#but they still feel their influence afterwards

[darcyolsson]

feeling better these past few days <3 could be because i got prescribed these supplements (which were supposed to help my bones, but whatever, my body has been known to make its own rules), could just be a coincidence. either way very happy to not wake up tired for a few days in a row!!!

[fluffle-writes]

Fem!Vil and Fem!Leona would be butch af I cannot be convinced otherwise

[daydreamerdrew]

Captain America (2005) #36

[anxiousnerdwritings]

Can I request something spicy for YanBatman with his Ex-WifeReader? 🫨

TW: Semi-NSFW, implied breeding kink, mention/implied cockwarming

(I sincerely hope you like it! It feels like forever since I’ve written something like this, let alone something spicy.)

Entrapment

A talk. That’s all this meeting was suppose to be. Just a simple and civil discussion about the upcoming court proceedings regarding the divorce and what would be happening afterwards regarding your relationship with the family (especially Damian), nothing more. So, how did it end up like this? How could it have possibly strayed so far off track?

~~~~

You weren’t too surprised when you got a call from Bruce. He often went between nonstop blowing up your phone to not reaching out to you for days at a time, you were getting more and more used to it by now. You of course didn’t answer it, your lawyer had advised you not to after your telling them of how Bruce was throughout your entire relationship with him. His tendencies and the way he behaved when it came to you. Your lawyer wasn’t exactly completely believing of it, and that was pretty understandable given some of the things you had divulged to them (if you hadn’t lived and dealt with it yourself you would have had a hard time believing it too) but they decided it was better to be safe than sorry and advised you to not interact with Bruce outside of them. And so you hadn’t and you didn’t plan to either. That was until you listened to the voicemail that he had left behind.

He had an offer. He wanted to meet in person and discuss this whole situation, one on one. He wanted to come to an equal agreement outside of having to go to court. And as much as you hated it it sounded like it might be the better option. There was no pretending that this divorce would go in your favor, there were just too many things going against you. Bruce had the money, he had the means to get the best damn lawyer in Gotham and fight this to the very end. Not to mention that this divorce would be very public in general given just who it involved. And he could very easily get the media on his side, tarnishing your image as a whole. Not that you cared too much for that, you had planned to leave Gotham behind anyway after the divorce was final but the thing that got you the most was the rest of the family.

You adored Alfred. Not only was he simply one hell of a butler but he had been so good to you throughout your marriage to Bruce. Even though you two hadn’t been married that long, Alfred was still very much a support to you and what you went through. He didn’t completely agree with what Bruce did or how he went about things, you were your own person and he tried to remind Bruce of that on many occasions, but there was only so much he could do. And it wasn’t just Alfred you cared about, you also loved all of Bruce’s kids. Once you married Bruce they didn’t just become your family, they were your babies too. And you still wanted to have them in your life and you knew Bruce would hold them over your head no matter which way this divorce went.

Sure, the rest of the family had been involved to some extent with what Bruce was doing in your relationship, especially when it came to keeping you isolated and cooped up in the manor. But as far as you saw it that was all due to Bruce’s influence, you couldn’t bring yourself to actually believe that they would willingly go along with it of their own accord. Or that they even gave Bruce ideas to begin with to keep you by his side and with them as a result. You just couldn’t possibly think of them like that, you just couldn’t. So, it of course scared you at the thought of being completely cut off from the people you had opened your heart to. You still wanted to be there for them, still be a part of their life but just at a safe arm’s length away instead of how it was before.

The more you thought about it, mulling it over and over again in your head, this offer was sounding like the more beneficial thing to do. You did still have love for Bruce of course, you just didn’t want to be in that kind of situation again and you knew the only way to prevent that and keep yourself safe was to step away from him and any form of romantic relationship with him.

~~~~

The day was finally here for the two of you to meet and you couldn’t help the anxiety that washed over you. You never truly knew what Bruce would do, what he was really thinking in the moment. He was unpredictable like that. He could come off oh so charming and inviting, it was scary how easy he could lure you into his trap. And you knew better than anyone what it was like to be caught in that snare. That was what your whole marriage had been with him after all, just one big entrapment.

Even when you were briefly on the phone with him to set up this meeting you couldn’t contain the tremor of nerves you had just hearing his voice again. You really did miss it, you missed him. But this needed to be done. For the both of you. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself.

Seeing him face to face again was something else. He looked good, he looked like he was taking care of himself again. That was a far cry from how he was the first few months after you left. He was a mess and it showed. That alone almost had you going back to him just so he’d be alright but you knew what came with him being back to himself and you couldn’t put yourself in that position again. You just had to remind yourself that this was it and it would soon be over for good.

Bruce greets you with open arms, you’re not quick enough to back out of his reach before he’s already enveloped you in his hold. He’s warm, he’s always been so warm. And his hold is tight, longing but not as suffocating as it used to be. And just as you’re beginning to feel yourself unconsciously fall into his warmth just like you used to so many times before, welcoming his touch again, he pulls away. For a split second you want to reach out to him and feel his touch all over again but you remind yourself that this isn’t what this is anymore. It can’t be.

Once the two of you are settled you start off talking small talk and everything seems good, everything seems okay. Bruce asks how you’ve been, if you’re doing alright with everything that’s been going on. He seems caring. He seems like he genuinely wants to know how this has affected you but you remind yourself yet again that this isn’t what you think it is. He then moves on to talking about the family and how they have been holding up through out this process, everyone’s taking it hard. Dealing with it in their own way but it seems Damian is the one who is taking it the hardest. That’s what you had feared. You worried about how Damian was taking all of this, how he was being effected by it. He was such a guarded kid, so closed off. You felt terrible having to put him through this, as well as the others but it’s what needed to be done. Right?

It isn’t until you try to bring up the original topic of discussion, the entire reason for this meeting in the first place, that you see how this wasn’t remotely the meaning of this meeting. You barely caught sight of Bruce’s jaw clenching when the words left your mouth, that was enough insight for you to know that this wasn’t at all what it was meant to be.

It’s obvious that it’s the last thing he wants to do, you can tell. He’d rather talk about anything else other than that. It’s one thing to ask how you’ve been regarding it or talking about how the rest of the family’s been taking it in but he doesn’t want to actually get into it. He’s avoiding it, of course he is. You can’t blame him but this needs to be over with.

“Bruce.” He tenses. It feels like it’s been forever since you said his name, he’s missed hearing it from you. He wants to hear it over and over again, like a mantra. God, the way it hit him when that’s all you could say as he thrusted so deep into you, just his name rolling off your tongue repeatedly. Fuck he missed it. He missed you.

“Remember, we’re meeting here for a reason. I don’t want to take up much more time than we need to. So, could we get to it?” Business. That’s all this was. Bruce hated it. Of all things, this is what brought you out of hiding? This is what opened you up to seeing him once more?

No.

He wouldn’t take that as an excuse.

He just wouldn’t.

“You’re right, (Name). Let’s get to business.”

~~~~

Without a doubt in your mind this was his intention all along. Of course it was. How could you see it any other way?

Bruce was calculating. He proved that more than once since you have known him.

It showed I n how he talked, the words he said dripping off his lips one after another, the sweet nothings he filled your head with.

In how he touched you; the placement of his hands, the way his fingers brushed you, the methodic way they curled deep inside your warmth.

But more importantly he was the most calculated when it came to fucking you. He knew you better than yourself, he spent your whole entire relationship learning and memorizing your body. What you wanted, what you needed. What exactly drove you to the deepest depths of pleasure. He knew it all. And he certainly knew how to use it to his advantage.

Each thrust, deeper than the last, was all so cunningly planned out. The way he grounded his hips into yours, the way he clutched you so close, melding himself into you, opening you up even more to take him completely. Every single move was so irrevocably mapped out.

~~~~

Your warmth. Oh, how much he’s missed it. How much he’s fucking craved feeling it wrapped around, enveloping him whole again, only for him to feel. You have no idea how many times he’s touched his throbbing cock to the thought of it, to the thought of having you sprawled out under him again. You have no fucking idea.

Once he has you right where he wants you, completely lost in the ecstasy of it all, he allows himself to finally give in to his own blinding pleasure.

No more calculating.

No more cunning.

No more being methodic.

No more.

Now it was all solely his mindless self indulgence. His once slow, deep thrusts turned into rapid, savage pounding. His kisses were more aggressive, sloppy. His touch was burning hotter than ever as he gripped and grabbed every piece of you he could.

At this point, Bruce let himself get lost in it. He let himself fall into the deepest, darkest pits of his desires. All he wanted now was to chase that feeling he’s been left without for so long, over and over again.

One after another, he released everything he had deep inside you. Again, and again, and again. All of this; all of his pent up anger, hurt, passion, everything he had bottled up inside throughout this whole shitshow of a situation, he was free to let it all go.

After the haze finally let up, Bruce was left basking in the aftermath. He couldn’t have felt better than ever before. He had you again, he had you here in his arms and it wasn’t a dream this time. You were the real deal and he couldn’t have been happier.

He couldn’t help but look at you,, watching you, taking all of you in again just like the many times he used to before. You were a fucking mess after everything and he absolutely loved it. He did that to you, he made you that way. And he took great pride and pleasure in it. He left you so full, both with himself still inside you (he just couldn’t bring himself to part with your warmth again) and all his cum. This was how he wanted to stay. This was how he wanted to be.

Placing his large hand on your stomach, he caressed it tenderly. There was no way you wouldn’t fall pregnant after this, he had made sure of it with all the times he filled you with his seed. He wanted you pregnant, he wanted you filled to the brim with his baby. He needed to have you tied for life and what better way to ensure that than by bringing a new life into the world together.

You wouldn’t be able to get away from him now. This had been yet another way to entrap you, to keep you in his grasp and Bruce wasn’t going to leave any room for you to wriggle out of his reach again.

“Let’s start anew, (Name). After all, we’re going to have even more of a reason to work things out now.”

[knightyoomyoui]

Lose Our Control - Part 2 [+18] (COMMISSIONED)

TWICE (x Male Reader) ft. Aespa and IU

TYPE: Fluff, Smut, Heavy Angst

WORD COUNT: 12722

NOTE: IU is finally here to join the plot! This one is way longer than Part 1 (Read here) because this one contains MULTIPLE ENDINGS for you to see and decide what you prefer the best as part of me and client's agreement. Also, combining the word count of this to the previous, it has a total of 18466: making this my LONGEST ONE-SHOT YET.

Thank you everyone for the notes, reblogs, and asks as your praises for Part 1! Hope this one won't disappoint. ORDERED BY: @vl-47 TAGS: harem, LOTS of sex and kinks, yandere, obsessed psychopath

DONATE OR REQUEST FOR COMMISSION HERE: https://ko-fi.com/knightyoomyoui TRIGGER WARNING: This sequel contains mentions of violence (psychological abuse, torture, murder), and non-con.

== CONTINUATION FROM THE END OF PART 1 == The recent events that occurred two days ago has been disturbing you badly. It won’t let you sleep peacefully at night, knowing about the guilt of the huge mistake you have done. You may not remember exactly what you did, but what you’ve seen when you opened your eyes is telling that you mindlessly enjoyed it with the influence of alcohol. Three naked women sleeping alongside you that weren’t neither each of the TWICE members and seeing how all knocked up they were, you sure did put yourselves in a hell of a good time. Most people would be happy that they got the luckiest opportunity to bang a hot woman, but that’s not a case with you. How could you feel like that when you’re literally in a relationship with not only just one… but nine gorgeous woman you knew and fell in love with. That brings you to the question: Why did you do it? It was just for a moment that things have been a bit calm while you were regretting your actions and owing it with all honesty alone in your room as your conversation with Karina replays in your head since there wasn’t anything that followed up afterwards.

Yet you were wrong, it was intended to happen to prepare yourself for the worst to come. That was when Jihyo texted you that they’re arriving back to South Korea during the tour for an urgent matter, and her text seemed unusually cold. You stayed in your home, trying to compose yourself to act normal despite of your darkest secret being a distraction. The door of their dorm opened, revealing all of them one by one as they brought their luggages and bags inside.

“G-girls! You’re finally back! Let me help you with t-”

You stood up and were about to approach Jihyo but she halts and stares at you without any expression. “No need.” “B-but those look heavy… and you girls are tired from the flight.” “I said we can do this by ourselves.” JIhyo’s tone became sharper. She walked past you as she heads into her room.

“And YN… p-please leave us alone here.” Jeongyeon requested as she followed Jihyo and threw you also a menacing glare. “Can I just atleast stay here for a while and check up on you all? It’s been weeks since we haven’t seen-” “WE DON’T WANT TO SEE YOU ANYMORE, OKAY?” Nayeon yelled at you. She walked close at you and gave you a huge slap in the face. Her large hands were able to not only apply pain in your cheek, it even caused the corner of your lips to bleed. “H-how could you…w-we trusted you, we thought it’s all gonna be okay that we talked about the possibilities of each other fighting f-for attention. I thought it’s gonna be us!” They knew, you said in your thoughts. You leaned away still after the impact of Nayeon’s assault. “We were all scared and nervous that we’re going to be the reason of ruining our relationship because of how many of us we’re in love with you.” Momo said in gloomy vibe. “And we couldn’t put a finger in you because we knew you were such a likeable person, that we risked to put the blame on ourselves. Loving us had us think that it’ll be impossible for you to cheat…” Jihyo said while her back is turned at you from the hallway that leads to the bedroom. She stopped walking when she heard the loud slap that Nayeon did at you. “And yet you still did this to us?! Sana, show it.” Nayeon commanded Sana who rummaged through her bag. She pulls out her phone and played a video as she presented it to you with dreaded eyes. It’s a clip of you sitting along with Aespa as all of you laugh while drinking liquor at the bar. It ended when Karina pulled you along inside the VIP lounge. Your eyes widened in shock not just of being busted, but with how the girls knew about this. “You must be wondering, huh.” Nayeon asked you in attitude. “M-my friend Miyeon was there in the club. She recorded this because… she recognized you. She was surprised that you are meeting with other girls because…I mentioned you to her as my boyfriend.” Sana began cracking into tears. “And I can’t believe this is what you do to me.” “Behind our backs? Really, YN? How dare you.” Momo scoffed disappointedly. “Look, girls. Let me explain-” “What is there to explain, YN? You fucking cheated on us!” Nayeon went loud.

“It wasn’t my intention, okay! I was drunk at that time, I didn’t know what was happening. All I remember is that a woman named Karina just showed up beside me and talked to me. That’s it!” You tried to defend yourself. “YN… don’t be stupid, please.” Mina frowned and looked at you betrayed. “Intoxicated or not, you should’ve known already know about what too much consuming alcohol would bring you. It’s your own actions, you should be accountable.” “I-I know, okay. I;m sorry, but please believe me it wasn’t my intenti-” Nayeon pounded your chest with rampage of her fists. “And yet you still went to that damn bar! Why would you even go there in the first place!”

You became teary eyed, as you cannot endure seeing all of them getting hurt of what you’ve done. “I was lonely, okay? I tried doing everything to distract myself, but I just miss you all too much.” Some of them started crying harder, especially Dahyun and Tzuyu. “Nobody were there to join me, until my friends invited me to go there. I accepted and I-I thought drinking would ease my sadness away.” “FUCK!!!” Nayeon stomped and buried her crying face on her palm as she squatted below in front of you. “What do want us to say then, YN? That we’re sorry? Yeah, kinda but… what can we do? We’re idols, it’s our job to go in any places to entertain our fans. It’s not like we wanted to leave you too.” Momo confronted you as well. Jeongyeon came to console Nayeon as she hugged the poor woman. She looks up at you filled with rage and frustration. “What I hated the most out of anything is not only people close to me being liars, but you broke my friend’s heart, just as much as mine.” “Jeongyeon, please I really didn’t mean to-” You were about to came close to them when she shouted.”

‘YOU STAY RIGHT THERE. DON’T YOU EVER COME CLOSE TO US!” She gestured you before she focused back on cooing Nayeon. “This is… something we can’t tolerate for us to continue in this relationship, YN.” Jihyo said. “I loved you. WE loved you. I knew you do but… you still did what you did.” Jihyo cried after she said those words. “How can we ever trust you again?” “We thought we are already enough, yet you still gave yourself in to others.” Chaeyoung expressed her feelings. “It breaks my heart thinking that maybe… there’s something lacking with us that you could just be open with anybody to have you.” “Chaeng, it’s not like that. Come on, girls. All of you are enough. I will do everything to fix this, please. Just give me a chance, we should not let-” “You love us?” Nayeon looks at you, her reddish tired eyes in contact. She leans Jeongyeon away from her gently to allow herself some space. “If you… don’t want to break our hearts again. Do me and all of us favor then. Let’s break up.” Your jaw slowly dropped in shock. Panic controls you to go nearer at Nayeon and touch her. “W-wait, Nayeon please. Don’t do this. I- I can’t… I can’t let us end this way.” You tried to approach them one by one but they were all just avoiding your glances with their sobs.

“Tzu, Dubu… even you guys? Come on, please don’t leave me. I’ll do better, I promise.” You said as you observed Tzuyu and Dahyun trying to avoid you. Dahyun raised her head and met you with her shattered emotions. “How could you do this to us. Oppa? I thought we could have you with everything, but you let it go away with just a simple flirt from another woman.”

“T-Tzuyu?” You held both wrists of the maknae, encouraging her to look you in the eye. “I love you so much, please. I can’t lose you too.” You felt Tzuyu shuddered in your touch. “I don’t know what I should say, oppa. All I know is that I’m hurting. I love the entirety of you, including your body, but seeing you losing your guard just like that for others to take advantage of what should be ours… was so unfaithful of you.” Tzuyu proceeded to share her own. She was wiping her eyes using her shirt. “How can you convince us again that everything will work out just fine, that you be strong for us when you couldn’t even be loyal to us anymore?”

‘I think it’s better that we have to separate from now on. I suggest that you leave us alone for good, I can’t let our work ethics affected because of what you did to us. If you truly care for all of us, please don’t go breaking our hearts again by staying by our side.” Jihyo concluded their decision. You felt defeated and dismayed, losing all nine of them all at once has to be your worst mistake you’ve ever done in your life. You were about to keep on fighting for your relationship with them but Nayeon tugs your arm and pushes you forcefully to the door. “GET OUT! I DON’T WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN!” Her constant hits at you adds another stabbing pain in your heart that all you can do is to cry due to loss of words of their reaction. One last time, you looked at the girls crying because of you. They really didn’t attempted to watch you disappear. You exit their dorm and as the door closes, they all started to cry harder in each other’s arms as you made your way through the hallway devastated from such a huge loss in your lovelife. The aftermath of your failed relationship with TWICE, it had you ending your contract with JYPE abruptly as a part of the favor you wanted to do for the girls. You can just admit by yourself that you would’ve wanted to be with them longer, but things won’t be the same again. You mourned for the disaster you have caused and owe it all within yourself alone in your home. Sleepless nights of dreams, what ifs, and hopes about the girl’s future and what would it’ll be like if you were still with them. During your coping with heartbreak for days both losing special people and the job you dedicate in your life, you were fixing your clothes when you noticed a folded paper inserted inside the pocket. You opened it, and it revealed a phone number with a note that says “Call me if you need someone to pick you up. We can do it again if you like.” and a wink. It must be from Karina, as you speculated that she put this inside your clothes while you were sleeping, which you weren’t aware that she actually put that when she hugged you before you left the motel. The desire of moving on and stepping back on track with your job had you encouraged to atleast settle on this. Left with no choice, you gave it a try as you dialed it on the phone. “It’s me, YN. Where can we meet? Fine, I’ll be there.”

The next day, you and Karina met in your designated place which is in a cafe shop. Hearing about the story to detail her speculations of you reaching back to her despite of that given night, she told about her preposition as a repay for what you did to them in the club.

When one door closes, another one opens for a new opportunity as they say. So you did, now finding yourself sitting in a room along with Aespa’s staffs to discuss about your deal of collaborating with them through your songs that you may write for their future albums.

It was finalized, Aespa were happy to have you officially in SM Entertainment. You felt atleast grateful and happy to have a new start with a bunch of new people, but beneath those smiles you show while you shake their hands, they don’t know that something is still off with you.

Not wanting to ruin the moment, you hid it and focus on the important scenario right now. Aespa arranged a celebration for your successful contract signing and you accepted.

As all of you gladly talked about random stuffs, you were observing them with conflicted emotions, probably because you still haven’t forgotten that they’re part of the reasons why you broke up with TWICE.

They began to shift again to their unstabilized selves after many bottles of soju. Giselle and Winter fell asleep, while Karina and Ningning initiates the things they wanna do to you since they were throwing you some seductive brushes and glares.

It all started with Karina laying her head at your shoulder, drinking one last shot before she inhales your neck. You looked at her and she caught it, it pushed her to the limit of kissing your exposed skin dangerously.

It crept up to the jaw, your cheek, then forcefully tilted your head to face her and capture your lips. Ningning paused from her drinking as she watches you and Karina starting to get intimate.

You broke the kiss. Unlike last time, you were a bit sober to do these things with them. You inspected Karina’s lust forming in her expression, that same demeanor that misled you to the forbidden affection which cost your relationship that you were once valued the most.

A part of you were mad of what they’ve done, and those voices were telling you to make them pay for it by using the same thing they used against you. You pulled Karina up in her feet and dragged her shorts down.

Her red panties are in full view, Karina breathes heavily as she watches you stare by it and feel the graze of your fingertips across her legs. Meanwhile, Ningning is still watching the show going on in front of her with a bit of jealousy.

You smooched her thighs as they rise to her blocked center. You hooked your fingers in the waistband and brought them down slowly until they planted on her feet and on the floor.

Karina steps out of it, you smelled its center part before you folded it neatly and placed it on your pocket. 

You stood up in front of her. Karina eyes you full of hunger, she bit her lips before placing her hands on your shoulders and invite you for another passionate kiss. 

“See this? It’s what you do to me. Tonight, I’m going to make sure that you’ll beg me for me to stop, that is… if I agree to it.” You said.

“If that’s what you want, then show me what you can do. Don’t hold back this time, there’s nobody you can think of anymore other than me.”

“You two must be forgetting we’re still here… especially me.” Ningning rose from her seat, placing her glass on the table. She walked towards both of you to join the fun.

“Can’t let myself getting left behind.”

“You sure you don’t want to stay there amd behave like a good girl? Because this bitch clearly doesn’t understand what’s coming after her.” You said as you fiercely cupper Karina’s chin in which she only reacted with a chuckle.

“What can I say, sluts deserves harsh treatments. I might help you with that, but… I’m a good friend as well, I fear that you may be outnumbered here.” Ningning boastfully said.

“Uh huh? So you do admit that you are just as slut as your friend right here?”

“Yes, and what are you gonna do about it?”

“Outnumbered, my ass.” You tugged Ningning and pressed her at Karina who caught her with a liplock. As they began to french kiss one another, you started to take off your clothes. “You fucking relationship breakers, I’m going to destroy both of your asses simutaneously that tomorrow morning, yall will rely to my cock just for you to properly walk into work.”

“Let’s get this all started in somewhere that ain’t… messy.” Karina said as she viewed the sight of scattered snacks and empty bottles with Giselle and Winter sleeping soundly on the carpet. Before you followed them, you placed the two on the couch to be comfortable.

Entering the bedroom, Karina pushes you to the bed and straddled you. You lift her t-shirt to reveal her matching red laced bra. The size of her tits and the color of her garment effectively made her hotter.

You grope her tits, mashing them together and pressed them to largen their shape while you feel Ningning devouring your nape and shoulders from behind. 

Helping you locate the lock, you snap it off to remove her bra. Her saggy G-cup breasts dropped in full presentation. You gulped your throat before you start suffocating your face between her holy valleys.

Karina just moaned lewdly as she felt her attractor’s face buried into her precious bosoms. “Oh mmh yes, suck them please.”

You complied, mouth capturing her rosy nipples and slurped it like there’s a milk coming out of it.

To add more pressure, Karina began grinding on your legs to stimulate her bare pussy and help you feast on her breasts further. Ningning on the other hand, already took off her shirt to reveal her proud tits to put into work by massaging your back with it.

“My turn.” Ningning interrupted your breastfeeding with Karina when she snatches your lips. Your hands were still squeezing Karina’s tits as she starts to remove your lower clothing. 

Your cock sprung up in raging erection. Karina allows Ningning to drop your half body on the bed to sit on your face while she quickly swallowed your full length without any build ups. 

The rest of the night was full of loud noises coming from their moans, your degrading curses, and rough slapping of skins from the countless manhandling you gave to them in various positions around the room.

Then, the morning you woke up, you groaned not because of how stiff and exhausted your body felt from your threesome with Karina and Ningning. It was rather your cock that is stiff being paid attention by Winter and Giselle as they double teamed your balls. 

Turning you on, you asked Giselle to lay alternate on top of you so that she turns yourselves in 69 while Winter still sucks your balls below as she fingers herself. All of you came together, with Giselle sharing some of your load directly into Winter’s mouth.

The sex was great with them. Your connection definitely grew from not just from being their new songwriter but as a friends who gives them a benefit of sex. 

You do it for them either to ease their tiredness or if they bored. This habit was both a favor and a punishment of them for you.

Meanwhile, Aespa attended a music show to promote their new song Whiplash. At the same time, TWICE was there to do the same for their song Strategy.

They saw each other backstage and interacted. This moment allowed Nayeon and Jihyo to open up a specific topic to set aside their idol life.

“We heard that YN is now working with you.” Nayeon’s mood slightly lowered at the mention of your name.

“You guys know YN?” Ningning asked.

“Yup, he wrote some songs for us. Then he terminated himself out of JYPE.” Jihyo confirmed.

“Guess he couldn’t take his fault all by himself, so instead he ran away with it.” Jeongyeon stiffled a laughter. All aespa members turned at her, their faces became serious as they suspiciously comprehended those choice of words.

“W-what did he do? Did something happened between you and him?” Karina asked.

“Yes. How about you, there has to be, right?” Nayeon smirked with a sass.

“W-what are you trying to say unnie?”

“Can we just cut the act here, girls?” Sana said. “We all know what happened between all of you and him. Or as I can mention, that night in the club?”

All of their eyes largened in surprise. “O-oh my God… u-unnie… you’re the girlfriend he’s talking about?” Winter gasped both in shock and fear.

“This is gonna be strange but to correct you, it’s girlfriendS. Plural.” Momo clarified.

They all “huh-ed” which took TWICE aback. They didn’t expected that reaction. “Wait… you girls don’t know about that?”

“No. He only said it in a singular term. We didn’t know that he was instead referring to… all nine of you.” Karina shook her head.

They all bowed and kneeled which had to girls embarassed. “We’re sorry, unnies!” They all stated in unison.

“Oh my, no stand up! Get out of the floor!” Jihyo shrieked. Fortunately they followed. “Okay, we admit we came here to confront you girls about… well having an affair with him when we were in a relationship with him. But, I think we’re just gonna skip into that a little since… we didn’t expect that you girls aren’t aware that it’s actually all of us.”

“That damn bastard, he says he loves us but he can only mention one of us as his girlfriends?!” Jeongyeon complained. 

“What’s worse is that he didn’t even mentioned any or our names.” Mina added.

“Is that how YN actually hates us?” Dahyun frowned which had the girls including Aespa to feel sad for her.

“Swear to God, unnie. We really didn’t know. I can confirm it because I was the one who initiated-” Karina paused when she received a not so hard slap from Nayeon.

“U-unnie?”

“That’s for still having an agenda to ruin someone’s relationship. What if it wasn’t YN and instead some… married man. You guys could’ve caused troubles not only in your careers but for his relationship too with his wife.” Nayeon reasoned.

“Which as you can see, happened to us.” Chaeyoung bitterly smiled. Aespa faded in guilt.

“But, we weren’t blaming you that much anymore for what happened. It’s still his fault and responsibility. And she failed with all of that.” Tzuyu said.

“That’s why we are here instead to… warn you about getting associated with him.” Jihyo said with all seriousness. “We can’t let another that will have their hearts broken because of his unloyalty and unfaithfulness.” 

“Were you all… perhaps, having feelings now for him?” Jeongyeon checked.

That question had Aespa reflecting about their recent encounters with him. Sure, sex with you was great but… they never had the time to concentrate on their feelings if you are already creating an effect for them aside from pleasure.

“W-we haven’t talked about that yet.” Karina denied, with the rest emphasizing it with a shake of their heads.

“So, just impressions?”

“Yeah, he’s pretty good. Wouldn’t try to object about his looks, well we do understand why all of you were concerned of other women trying to get into him.” She swallowed the lump in her throat after saying that, as she cleverly blamed themselves.

“We’re telling you now in advance that you should do something to prevent yourselves from getting too attached with him. You know what happened to us, and now that he found a new collection through all of you, he might do it again.” Jihyo warned them.

“Once a cheater, always a cheater, guys.” Nayeon shrugged.

“Anyways, we still do know our part that we can’t dictate what others feel, but just so you know we’re giving you already a heads up about the consequences. Don’t… don’t let yourselves get hurt.” Jihyo said, her emotions almost collapsed as she remembered the altercation, which was the last time they saw you. “I suggest it’s better to remain friends with him.”

All aespa members nodded to what the TWICE’s charismatic leader advised for them. They bid their goodbyes after congratulating and showing how delighted they are to see their fellow sunbaes. 

Sana was the one to depart, and before she tailed along with her co-members, she left one last favor for Aespa to do for her and probably on behalf of them.

“Take care of him, please. We don’t know what we lacked but… try to do better.”

ACT 4The following weeks have been very baffling for Aespa, and their minds couldn’t just focus properly on the priorities when they always get to see your face in the same environment you both were working in.Just a glimpse of your presence and it took them both to recall their interaction with their seniors whom they still didn’t expect that they were once yours. Ofcourse, it does affect their way of encountering you. It irritates them to the point that they’ve decided to give themselves a space to process everything not because of what they’ve learned about you, but the possibilities of what’s actually building up inside of them for you. These actions didn’t fail to get on your senses, as it slowly becoming noticeable of you that they somehow look a bit different communicating with you than the recent times they’ve had with you. It’s not that you were expecting, but they’ve gone less frequent on initiating sex with you. It wasn’t surprising until they also started to only laugh or speak occasionally, only because they make themselves unavailable to get along with you due to being ‘busy’. You know that’s not it, and so was them. You wanted to know if something is going on, so that’s why you give it a shot of questioning them regarding on that matter. It left you puzzled when they said ‘nothing’ and still they blamed work for draining their energy these days. Offering assistance, they declined. No more forcing occurred afterwards, you just let them be alone as requested. As your chat with them ended, the members sigh problematically, they just didn’t know what to do with you. It’s highly hypocritical and audacity of them to be mad for you that you’ve cheated, that’s why they were skipping into that truth. Rather, they are living into a lesser shameful and a reasonable cause of them to limit themselves from you. They’re just disappointed of how things turned out because of them and… what might happen if it was them now in TWICE’s position when they were with you. To put it simply, they’re currently struggling in this emotional conflict and tension within their decisions and feelings all about you. Back to where you are, you may not forgive what Aespa has done for you and TWICE but at the same time, you also couldn’t help but to feel alone knowing that all of the people you got to be very close inside this industry are currently out of your reach. It makes you sad that Aespa were going through tough times without your help, but they couldn’t surpass the amount of loneliness and longing you have everyday for TWICE. You were about to sleep into your comfy bed when your phone buzzed a notification. Opening it, all of your thoughts were a speaking of the devil. Talking about a perfect timing, someone wants to meet up with you, and unlike the last time, you accepted it initially because knowing this person since you two were little, she could never be cruel for you. The next day, you drove your car to the rendezvous she marked. Stopping by into her house, there she was, standing on the stairs to her doorway. Your childhood friend and sister-figure of your life, IU greeted you with a very cheerful demeanor. “Hiiii YN!” She waved her hand at you. You got out of the car and opened the door for her like a gentleman. Her instant hugged at you made you flinched and laugh at her usual clingy side. “Hey, easy haha. Hello to you as well noona.” You reciprocated the hug. It honestly felt so good, aside from your ex-girlfriends, she’s the other woman who could make you feel that love and care that gives off what a family should be. “I missed you so much. We haven’t seen each other in like forever.” She pouted.

“I mean, that’s what you get for being very famous in Korea right now.” She slapped you on the arm. “Ouch!” “So you are mocking me now just because I’m famous? Well what can I do, atleast I have a better job than you, and I never feel ashamed of being an idol” She teased you by taking out her tongue that had you rolling your eyes. “Yeah yeah yeah you are richer than me. I get it, ever since before you’re obsessed with money. No surprise.” “Stupid, that’s not it…. Or maybe just a little.” You shook your head as you found her silly antics ridiculous. “But shut up, okay? How dare you spit lies on me, I’m doing it because of my fans.” “Sure, sure. Whatever you say.” You joked. “Ugh stop annoying me.” She showed it in her face which kind of turned her adorable. Like a sister, you really love pissing her off. “Why are you keep blabbering out here. Come on, time is running we should start this day immediately.” She pushes you to make you reenter the car and get yourselves out of here.

“You should appreciate this, okay? I even had to sacrifice my dayoff to rest from all the shootings and everything just to meet you.” IU pretends to sulk. “I told you on the phone that I’ll be there when you need me, and I mean it.” You smiled and looked at her. “Yeah I know, and thank you for spending your time with me, noona. I do needed this, you know… to be free of this stressful life I just entered after I became a songwriter.” IU’s grin of hearing your grateful remark shrank when you mentioned your problem. “Was your job draining you that much? Didn’t quite expect that writing songs would be that tiring.”

“Yah, are you boasting out on me now?” You voiced out while your attention is fixed on the road. “Idiot, what I mean is that was JYPE making you write songs for their entire groups signed with them? How can you say your job is stressing you out?” IU elaborated. “We’ll talk about that later. For now, can we just enjoy the drive, please? I don’t want to start all of these right away with deep stuffs and such.” IU nodded. “As you say so, here lemme play my playlist. You better tell me what’s going on later okay? I want to know what I’m helping you with.” Reaching the largest mall in the city, you and IU went on to a shopping spree, even buying things for you as a gift in which you gladly accepted. She did everything to cheer you up with your worries and it did worked somehow. Just like the old days, she would watch a movie with you, take photos together, and play some arcade to compete with one another to check who is still better in games. However, among all of that, nothing can still top the favorite part of your time with her: food trip. While eating, you were reminded of your promise with her which encouraged you to open up about it. As usual, IU would listen to you in all ears, you narrated the entire story from the moment you signed in JYPE as a songwriter that led you to meet TWICE, the strange relationship you had with all of them, the breakup, and how you were involved with Aespa nowadays. IU’s reaction either falls or rises, particularly about the relationship you had with all of them. She became serious after hearing everything she had to know and to express her somber and empathy, she hugged you again in comfort. “I don’t know what I did… it makes me think I’m not fit for any of this.” Your emotions bawling inside. “I wanted to fix things right but it’s like I just want to move on from everything.” “I suggest you do it, YN.” IU advises. “They won’t do good on you if you still keep yourself connected with them. The burden of what you’ve created will never stop triggering your anxiety and guilt. For TWICE, well I do understand why they must be upset… I mean, you betrayed them but, you won’t suffer this much if they never let you get into this… toxic relationship of loving them all equally. They also have fault here somehow, don’t you think? As for Aespa… well going for revenge might not be worth it, YN. Shouldn’t you stop being near with them? Don’t forget what they did, but was it necessary for you to join them? What would TWICE will respond if they know that you associated with them? Do you think it’ll make them happy? No. Hate to break it to you, YN but… 

That’s why from now on, it’s better for you to leave them for good. Have a fresh new start, I can guide you with that.” You looked at her, she observed how fragile you are and it aches her. “You can?” “Yes, everything. I can give you everything that they can’t. And unlike them, I would do it all by myself.” IU confidently said, she stroked your hair to ease your emotions. “Come here.” She invited you for another embrace, You sobbed again, the more you let it all out on her, the more she bears anger for TWICE and Aespa for both putting you in an unhealthy relationship that manifested a horrible consequence in which you only had to handle responsibility since you’re the one who obviously sinned. Furthermore, it left her to return another side of her that YN never got to witness beforehand. Since they were little, your bond with IU had her to exceed your view of her role in your life. If she felt like your sister, then IU finds you to be her first-found love. 

And it never disappeared. She only had to hid it beneath her other priorities in life. But now that you’re back to become a part of her present situations in result of your lovelife issues, it motivated her to relive her deep feelings for you and use it to make you live in her future that she thinks you deserve. As IU wraps you in her arms, her thoughts are filled with plans of how to take care of you. At long last, she found the perfect time to finally disobey the platonic companionship and completely act using her heart beating romantically for you through the years. ACT 5

A true commitment to her words, IU walked the talk by beginning her agenda through the following days. Unlike before, she can insert a time for you frequently, even when you are with Aespa either she checks upon how you’re doing or she’ll invite you again to another gathering.

It was touching and grateful at first that IU is pouring a lot of effort of being your bestfriend that you can trust and rely to be on your side. How shameful of you to still not found her unhelpful when she literally sacrificing her busy schedule just for you.

Still, you feel shy and worried that you must be another burden that IU should carry, that’s why you reminded her not to babysit you too much that it affects her job. You tried to convince her that you’ll just gonna signal her if something might go wrong again between you and Aespa, but this is how the events starts to go downward spiral for you.

IU didn’t got mad at your assurance, but she declined. She said that you will never be a hindrance for her and that everything she’s doing right now is all for him only and because of him. 

At first you took it as some normal overprotective friend type of behavior from IU, but you began to spot some faulty antics from her that is making you a bit uncomfortable.

Sure yes, you appreciate her for being just one call away. However, her availability to reach you is slowly passing into the red line of boundaries that she might not be aware.

What you’re saying is that… IU wanted so much to let herself be known that she’s there for you that she hasn’t fail to come and see you everyday. She can be found in front of your dorm, outside of SM Ent. , and other places where she’s there to wait and watch for you.

It’s getting a little creepy from her, you thought. Why is she’s so determined to do this like it’s her glorious purpose to keep you psychologically stable from all problems when you already told her that she’ll be guaranteed to hear from you again when you need her.

Her obvious monitoring of you had you been concerned of her physical well-being since it must be tiring that she had to visit you when she’s tired from getting out from work. You just want her to stop this because your frequent meetups with her might become obvious to the public eye.

She was once seen by Winter and Giselle when they head out of the company for a while and they saw you chatting with IU wearing full jacket, a mask, and a cap to disguise herself. They secretly watched your conversation and after IU left, they were stunned when she entered a luxurious car.

Their curiosity piqued, they had you questioned if who that person is. You revealed it to be IU and that she stopped by to greet a friend. It was still bland, cold, and short interaction, as they just proceeded back on their tasks while you were left confused and tired from their behavior of being distant with you.

One day, IU invited you to eat with her outside but you had to refuse because there’s an ongoing studio production of a song again for Aespa. She said that she’ll still be waiting when you’re done and dropped the call when you were about to advice her to just move it the next day.

That made her to wait for hours on the restaurant she reserved, drunk herself out of wines she took plenty amount of times while you were there, busy contributing another song to add in Aespa’s discography.

It was the start of IU’s anger for Aespa to boil, and because of them she established a standard of having any women around you distracting your supposed to be time together be spiteful. Not even TWICE is safe from IU’s growing eagerness to have your attention piece by piece.

She had enough when you cut your stay in IU’s home short when surprisingly Aespa called you for an urgent discussion with them.

You were about to head out when IU began to spoke behind you.

“YN… was it really that important?” 

“I guess so, maybe duty calls.”

“But, are they?”

“Beg your pardon?”

IU sighed and started whining. “YN, can you tell me what exactly did they want you to go for?

“Uhh they said it’s just urgent. That’s it.”

“So you weren’t sure. Maybe they just want you there to use you again. You should just stay here instead.”

“Use me? What do you mean?”

“Oh come on, don’t you still see it? They’re just keeping you there in the company because they only want your skill to make them successful. Now that they’ve gone tired socializing with you, they all look at you nothing but a tool of their benefit. Well, not just for their career, but also for sex.”

“I-I don’t think that’s it. I went there to continue making myself being a songwriter to use. It’s not about them.”

“Oh really? Then why are you so excited to go out there and meet up with them, huh? Why? Were you expecting that you’re gonna make up with them after all these problems between you and them? Or… you just want to get another taste afterwards?”

“Ji-eun, stop. Why are you twisting my words?”

“I just…” IU came forward to hug you. “I don’t want you to go yet. Please.”

“Ji-eun… I really have to. Sorry, but I’ll be screwed if its for their project.”

You were about to leave when you heard a glass shatter. Abruptly turning, you saw IU with her hair down, she’s staring at the floor with a menacing stance.

Broken glass were around her. “Ji-eun, are you okay?!” You start to kneel and search for her feet for any signs of cut and bleeding.

“I want you to get out of that company.”

“What?”

“Work with me. Atleast there, I’ll treat you with care and I’ll respect you both in our personal lives and as work partners.”

“Ji-eun, it’s not easy.”

“What’s stopping you from leaving them alone?!”

“BECAUSE I’M DOING THIS TO GET BACK FROM THEM!!!” You raised your voice, making her stare at you in surprise. “I want them to realize that tearing me and TWICE members apart only result for nothing!”

“That’s why I’m saying it’s not about them. It’s always about Nayeon, Jeongyeon, Momo, Sana, Jihyo, Mina, Dahyun, Chaeyoung… and Tzuyu. Those nine were the reason I’m still staying with them even though God know I never wanted to.

I want to use them, take advantage of whatever they had, a fair share to be exact. Don’t you think I don’t realize that those girls would fall for me, Ji-eun?”

“Then why did you still want to go?” Ji-eun asked.

“Because if ever a time comes that one of them… or all of them just like what TWICE did, I want to break their hearts in the end instead. And if that time is today, I would be reject them without any hesitation… and I want to witness it by myself of how broken they will be, without any mercy or pity.”

“Revenge, huh?” IU chuckled. “So it’s not for Aespa… it’s all about TWICE this whole time?”

“Yes.”

IU laughs hysterically. “What a load of bullshit.”

She stepped closer at you. “Ji-eun, be careful! The glasses-”

“Shut up! What you do to me right now hurts more than these freaking shards I would’ve love to cut myself into.” She roared. “For TWICE? What, do you think it’s all worth it? YN, get your eyes wide open! They’re just useless and inconsiderate than those Aespa bitches!”

“Don’t be rash at them, they’re not.”

“Why? You’re still in denial, aren’t you? Whatever you do, that will forever stuck with them! It’s not gonna make you come back with them, you’re just wasting your damn time!”

“Who are you to tell what’s right or wrong for me, goddamnit! You were never there, Ji-eun! You don’t know what I’ve been through!”

“Playing victim in a situation that you’ve created? How cute of you.” IU scoffed.

You shook your head and groaned at how stressful IU is making these things for you. “Seriously, why are you doing this? Why are you trying to hold me back for? Were you perhaps, one of them as well?”

“I’m not.” IU pressed you on the wall and eyed you like a predator trapping her prey. “I’m better than them. How? I could love you with all my heart. I care for you, not to be shared by anybody. You’ll never get enough of me, YN. I’m completely natural for you.”

IU starts to kiss your neck as she starts ripping off your shirt. “I could never be a horrible woman like them.” She grabbed your head and kissed you fiercely. “Face it, YN. I am the only one who can give you anything than all of them combined.”

“But… Ji-eun…” You spoke after IU moved through your chest, peppering it with pecks of her lips. As she was about to attempt giving you hickeys, she paused when a deafening silence attacked her after hearing the words that felt like erupted her eardrums.

“I don’t love you.”

She just laid her head on your triceps. You watched her below, as you regretfully broke her heart. IU is a wonderful woman, you admit… but not enough to be a living personification of your ideal type.

“Why are you… making this so hard for me, YN?” IU starts to cry. “Ever since we were little, I’ve been holding these feelings for you, wanted you to acknowledge it. I thought everything we had would convince you to love me back.”

“But now that we’re here and I’m back to save you, you couldn’t even give me back what I want in return from you.”

She pulled something from her pocket. You then felt something pierced on your wrist that made you grunt in pain. 

IU stabbed you with a syringe with a clear fluid inside. You looked at her with widened eyes, and at that moment, the IU you once knew was no longer standing in front of you.

This one right here, is a much more obsessed, delusional, and possessive unlike she was. Its as if she transformed into a completely different person, gone with those compliments you had for her.

“You’re such an ungrateful bastard, YN. But don’t you worry now. I can still fix everything. It’s never too late for us to love one another, as long as I am the one in control.” 

Your vision of her starts to get blurry, your head spins, and you weren’t aware that you already collapsed on IU’s arms. Her empty expression in her face turns into a victorious smirk.

She closes the door and locks it. Dragging your body to her bedroom, she laid you and went for her cabinet. With handcuffs on your wrists bounded on the headboard, she could only watch you unconscious figure filled with lust.

“Sucks that this has to go this way. I wanted for you to see ourselves savor this moment. I guess I’ll just gonna wait for you to make it happen.” She giggled as she ran her fingertips through your midsection.

“Sleep tight for now my dear YN.” She kissed your lips and bit your lower lip before she slept over your upper body.

Hours later, it was now dark outside as you slowly woke up from getting knocked down by a substance inserted to you by IU. Speaking of her, you found her sleeping peacefully on your stomach.

You remembered what happened earlier that led her to do something unexpected. It wasn’t that she can only offer, as you realized that as you were about to stand up slowly and attempt to escape, your hands are shackled to the bed.

“Shit. What the fuck did she do to me?” You mumbled. You tried to break free, which made IU woke up from the sounds of clanging metal created by the handcuffs around the bars of the headboard.

“Oh, you’re awake. What time is it now?” She peeked at her phone. “9PM. Oh we have a lot of time for tonight.”

“W-what do you mean? What is this, Ji-eun? Why am i handcuffed, let me out of here!”

“Ssshhh… don’t worry, YN. I’ll let you go later.” She shushed you with her finger on your lips. “For now, let’s try something fun that we’ve never done before.” 

She starts to unbuckle your pants and tug it out, your boxers are now visible to her. “Finally we can start, I’ve waited patiently, you know?” 

“Help! SOMEBODY HELP!!!!”

“Oh that’s no good, be a good boy and don’t scream will you?” She grabs a scarf and covered your mouth. “We can’t let anyone see you bare naked in here, right? Oh well, they’ll rather gonna end up dead as they step here anyway.”

Your eyes stared at her in horror as she laughs at her supposed to be funny dark humor. This childhood friend of yours has gone insane, and now she’s about to strip you down while you only watch her do so.

“Don’t you know how much I wanted to do this? The more I think of you, the more I imagine everything about you that I haven’t seen yet. And that includes your body.”

She removed your boxers, revealing your underwear with the outline of your semi-erect cock in view. IU moaned at its sight and almost drooled by it. “Oh would you look at that. My fantasies has come to reality.”

“When you began working out, I got so invested to explore how you actually look physically, without any clothes for me to be blocked.” She sniffed at your clothed crotch, smelling its musky scent. “I always assumed that you’re packing from head to toe, especially this buddy you have here.” She giggled as she grate her fingers at the length of your cock.

She watched it twitch, begging to break free from its confines. “He wants me to touch it, let’s not make him wait, shall we?” IU smirked as she looks at you while she holds your underwear before removing it.

Your cock sprung freely, now in your full size erection brought by her teasing. “N-no… no!!! Don’t you dare, Ji-eun! T-this isn’t right!”

She pinched the foreskin of your cock which made you stretch your legs in pain. “SO IF ITS THEM, IT’S COMPLETELY ALRIGHT? FUCKING THEM ALL THAT EASILY?” 

She straddled your abdomen and slapped your face. “Yah, stop acting like that, pervert. From now on, I’m the only one who could get to touch you like this, you hear me? I’m the only one who has the access of this, you can’t fuck anyone than me because we love each other. Understood?” She directed while choking your neck.

“J-ji-eun… make it stop, please. I don’t want this to happen. Why did you changed?” You asked with a croaky voice.

“I never changed, what are you talking about? This side of me has been there in me for so long, and you left me with no other choice but to embrace it.” She gripped the girth of your cock and starts to stroke it. “Because if I won’t, I could never get to have you. And I hate that.”

Her hand pleasuring you is making you difficult to prevent expressing relief and satisfaction to her, because if you do, you’ll be looking like you’re enjoying this rather.

“It’ll take some time for you to get used to it, that’s why for now… all you have to do is lay there comfortably, while I do all the work for us tonight, baby. I’m going to use your cock, show you how more amazing our sex can be than what you had with those bunch of whores, and make ourselves feel good. What do you say?”

You didn’t answer as you frighteningly watched her jerk you off and spit on her hands to add more slimy friction. She also cupped your testicles and felt their weight. “They seem so full, God I’m going to make you let your semen fill me up to the brim. The thought of TWICE and Aespa not being able to take this from me anything is hnnghh…” She rubbed her pussy from her shorts. “Turning me on so bad.”

“Tonight, I’m going to make you mine. And we’ll be together forever.” 

“N-no… please, stop, Ji-eun” You cried as IU continues to increase her performance by involving her mouth now, sucking you passionately until the pacing increases.

She took the whole of it, buried her face down to your crotch where the tip of her nose is now poking your little pubic hairs. IU slid out and breathed deeply with some coughs after trying deepthroat for the first time on such huge cock like yours.

Gritting your teeth, gripping on the handcuffs tightly, shutting your eyes, you did everything to force yourself from cumming. It was super challenging especially this woman right here is shockingly well-trained which isn’t like her for her first time, she really does giving you a great blowjob so far.

Your balls weren’t safe either, her licking and fondling those pair is encouraging your seed to escape through your shaft but you tried to hold on. Adrenaline runs through your veins in frantic measures when IU starts to ejaculate you faster and tighter.

“O-oh my God… s-stop, I-I’m gonna…”

“I can tell you’re cumming, YN and I want it right now. Come on, give it all, baby.”

“Shit… n-no… please” IU continues to pump you demandingly. She also began caressing and playing with your balls which stimulates your crotch further.

“Fuck!!! If you keep doing that-”

“YES GIVE IT TO ME!!! CUM FOR ME, YN!!!”

“JI-EUNNN!!!!” You shouted her name as you blasted ropes of pure white cum straight in her face as she pointed your cock towards her. It felt like everything has gone slow mo, you lengthen your moans and whimpers while IU joyfully receives your massive load for a lewd facial.

She really wasn’t kidding. She emptied your cum by taking time to scoop them around her face and take it into her mouth. She was humming in delight at how delicious it was while you were left there still catching your breath at how long she edged your cock.

“Ready for round two?”

“What?”

“Silly you, the night has just begun for us. Don’t be such a killjoy, we can fuck for how long we want tonight. Only think about us, okay?”

Your tears flowed out of your eyes as IU starts to remove her clothes and present you her sexy body. Your hormones betrayed you, as the sight of her ample tits and that cute pussy of hers made your cock to harden again.

IU saw that and chuckled. Seeing how “excited” you are, she took you in her ride. The following hours were full of suffering in pleasure. Confusing as it is, but that’s only how you describe your situation at this point.

You felt betrayed as you thought your childhood friend would be the one to assist you for your goal. Yet here she was, becoming the worse than them by taking advantage of you physically, mentally, and emotionally for her own benefit, which was highly ironic of her.

It just confirms you that she’s out of her mind right now, and she definitely needs some help. But right now, you have to think for yourself first and how to get out of this.

IU continues to violate you as she used your cock to drain your cum greedily for her satisfaction all night long. Until 5AM, the bed creaks with her bouncing on your lap in sitting and reverse cowgirl, shoving her lips to your moist mouth, and even grinding around your body by using her petite figure. She also had you participate as well by turning yourselves in 69 position, making you eat her pussy with your hands in restriction.

With one last spurt of cum to her pussy, she slips out of your cock and collapses on top of you. She scanned your exhausted self and admired it.

“As what I promised, I let you out for today because like you said, you still got some shit to do with Aespa. 

Beware though, YN. Don’t do anything stupid, every step you make everywhere, you can’t run from me. I can even hire some bodyguards to watch you and I can pay them as long as they do their jobs right. That’s why I strongly warn you not to do anything stupid, I don’t want to punish you, okay?” She threatened. You gulped and slowly nodded at her insane motive.

Great, she just made everything worse for you. You cannot move around freely and finish what you’re planning for Aespa and TWICE because of how she traumatized and suffocates you in her obsessive attraction.

She went from being the wise option to  becoming your biggest problem, and it required you to focus on this by getting rid of her. This isn’t right, the relationship you’re about to have with her will never be ordinary.

However, this won’t be possible if you’ll do it alone. Now that she’s going to hire some men to watch your movements and possibly assist her of taking control of you, you will need help in this escapade.

ENDING #1 | THE BAD ENDING

It took you 2 days to guard your house if there’s any suspicious men standing in front of your house or she herself would go spying again.. There’s no shocker if IU already made her move this instant.

That woman must be going even crazier now that she doesn’t have you under her presence, she’ll do anything to keep herself updated about your routine.. For now, you don’t care that much as you dislike how she turned in a new persona that won’t grant her what she’s dying to claim since long time ago.

Time is running short, if the other side made themselves still active, you don’t have to just wait for nothing and submit yourself ini impending danger. “Fuck this” you whispered to yourself before grabbing a jacket and a hat, preparing  yourself in order to be unrecognizable on her radar.

In one swift alert, you immediately ran out of your house android the taxi you booked. Requesting for the driver to go faster as you told him the destination you’re about to go, your body slumped in both relief and worry for the possibility of other cars tailing the cab from behind, thankfully it didn’t happen.

After you were dropped at the familiar place, you walked through the pathway and entered the lobby. You informed the receptionist of your intention of being a guest who only wants to visit a close person that lives here with a convincing pretend.

Each footsteps as you get nearer and nearer made you tensed and anxious. It makes you harbor sorrow reminiscence visualizing all the memories you made with those girls in this place while remembering what happened the last time you and TWICE had a fight. Not a great goodbye to wrap up everything that started remarkably..

But, if you were that desperate and dedicated to formulate a plan of holding IU in custody, you have to grow balls and confront them about the aftermath including the words you wanted to say for them but never had the guts to went through.

You knocked on the door thrice and waited. The intercom attached below the emergency exit plan pinned on the wall began to speak.

“Who is it?” You recognized that voice, emotions swelling up inside.

“N-Nayeon, I-it’s YN…” Your response was shaky. 

“W-what are you doing here? What do you want?” Her tone suddenly changed to devious when your identity got unveiled.

“Look, Nayeon. I know you don’t want to see me or talk to me anymore but please just this once, hear me out.” You pleaded sincerely.. “I am completely owing what I did and I know I wronged for that, bigtime. I cost our relationship and I’ll always gonna regret doing that to you girls.

I love all, still. But i didn’t came to request for us to get back together. II came here instead to… ask some help.”

“Help?” Nayeon perturbed inquired. “For what?”

“You know my friend right? IU? Your biggest idol in K-Pop?” 

“Yeah?” She responded quizzically. “And what does this have to do with her?”

“She’s… gotten to be someone I used to know. Nayeon, my friend isn’t normal anymore after she… c-confessed to me and I humbly didn’t return the same admiration for her. She suddenly turned to be obsessed with me and now she wants me to be hers even if I don’t want to. I am scared, Nayeon. I don’t know what she might do but… I am dead serious that I want to distance myself away for me for how long it might take.”.

“Wait wait… are you saying that IU sunbaenim is a stalker of yours?”

“Exactly, and I know I messed up real bad that I have to come in here to meet up with you. I can’t even stay here for longer,  she’s watching me, Nay. Please, I want your help.” Your tone starts to be invaded with dread and depression. 

Her end went silence for a second before she spoke again, not with the words you were hoping for her to respond though. “YN… are you drunk? You sound like you’re just making up stories.” “W-what? N-no I’m not making this u-” “If you think for one single solitary second that I would just open this door and let us see each other face to face, you ain’t getting any of that. I’m not falling for your tricks anymore, YN.” “Nayeon!” Your panicking urges your voice to raise. “Y-you’re taking it differently, I came here just by that. How can I just pull a prank on you a-and…” “I CAN’T TRUST YOU ANYMORE, that’s why, YN. So are they.” Nayeon made it loud and clear. “IU sunbae is into you? Well I won’t be surprised with that, I mean you did the same with our Aespa juniors.” “Wait, what?” “You didn’t know? But don’t worry, I won’t let that occur, just for you to stop spinning people’s heads and play with their feelings in the end when you enter another relationship with them, not on our watch, YN.” Nayeon confidently said. “We already talked with them and guess what? They know our history now, scumbag.” You went speechless of Nayeon’s revelation, making sense why Aespa was being distant from you all this time. The more she brashly downgrade you, the lower your hopes fall of receiving rescue on your current dilemma. Tears form in your eyes as you bang your head in the wall feeling dizzy of giving up, all of your plans crumbled simultaneously. “Whether it’s true or not, we don’t care about you anymore, YN. We broke up with you,  it’s over for us. We don’t want nothing from you, so stop trespassing in our lives to gain another meaning or forgiveness because it’s your karma face and deserve it.”

She cut the line, leaving you slip on your knees and sob in anguish. Out with your revenge with Aespa and making amends with TWICE. All you can do now is to hold on, be stubborn to accept the fact that it’s IU’s world you’re about to live in. As you came home, you opened the lights and to your shock, IU was standing in the middle of the living room behind the chair. In front was a table covered in black cloth. Your fear subdues, desperation for help ran through your senses.

“You’re home. I hope you enjoyed meeting TWICE in person… behind my back.” IU wore a disturbing smile on her face as she sways a belt in her hand. “Ji-eun. It wasn’t what you’re thinking, okay? P-please, spare me.” You went on your knees and prayed for salvation. “You already got me once, I won’t let it repeat again.” she shook her head. “You think I could just walk around untracked?” She grabs her phone and saw a dot on a map that shows a location, and to your realization, she put a tracking system on your phone while you were asleep from her drugging you. “Very slick of you, YN. Having someone to have eyes and ears wherever you are, its kind of boring don’t you think?” “Ji-eun ah, please. Don’t do this, I- I will never do that, o-okay? Please… please…” You rushed to hug IU’s legs as you aggressively beg for your safety. “You should’ve done that way earlier.” IU’s tone went deep. “BOYS! COME OUT AND HELP ME WITH HIM!” Four men came out through your bedroom and approached you. Eyeing them all both confused and afraid, you tried to slip around and dodge their grasp as they began dragging you into the chair. “No… NO! GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME! J-JI-EUN AH!!!” You wailed as large men cuffed you in the seat, covered your mouth with a ball gag, and stripped your lower garment to expose your cock for IU.. As you groaned and grunted around the seat, you paused when IU unveiled the contents of the table, dozen set of what it seems to be sex toys and BDSM stuffs laid neatly. “I said it once and I warned you to not make me punish you, but since you’ve done the same to me, making me feel like I’m just as horrible as those bitches are. You’re gonna get it, YN.” She reached for a wand-looking vibrator and activated it. “I’m going to fucking drain your cum until morning as you sit there like a good boy for me. Understood?” You hummed in denial, not wanting any of it but you’re completely helpless at this point. Without any further ado, the bodyguards left the scene as IU starts to stimulate your cock by poking the wand’s tip on it, feeling its intense vibration to make your shudder in the chair. Meanwhile, TWICE and Aespa are on their respective dorms, their still kept feelings for you had them contemplating if what they did at you was right. ENDING #2: BITTERSWEET ENDING After Nayeon went silent on the intercom, she decided to discard her doubts at you as part of her is telling that you must be telling the truth. “If that’s what will make you to quit pursuing us, then fine. Just this once and when it’s done. I want you to disappear and stay away from us forever,got it ?” You hesitated for a while, you still do love her, but your fate nowadays is demanding a sacrifice of that miracle to repair what’s broken and start all over again with TWICE. Tears flowed in your eyes as you accepted that you and them will never meant to last… or probably to love one another. “O-okay. After this I… I’ll stop bothering any of you again. T-thank you, Nayeon.” She didn’t answer anymore. You left the front of their dorm with bittersweet tears flowing in your cheek, conflicted in relief and devastation for your heart to submerge. As you came home, you opened the lights and to your shock, IU was standing in the middle of the living room behind the chair. In front was a table covered in black cloth. Your fear subdues, desperation for help ran through your senses.

“You’re home. I hope you enjoyed meeting TWICE in person… behind my back.” IU wore a disturbing smile on her face as she sways a belt in her hand. “Ji-eun. It wasn’t what you’re thinking, okay? P-please, spare me.” You went on your knees and prayed for salvation. “You already got me once, I won’t let it repeat again.” she shook her head. “You think I could just walk around untracked?” She grabs her phone and saw a dot on a map that shows a location, and to your realization, she put a tracking system on your phone while you were asleep from her drugging you. “Very slick of you, YN. Having someone to have eyes and ears wherever you are, its kind of boring don’t you think?” “Ji-eun ah, please. Don’t do this, I- I will never do that, o-okay? Please… please…” You rushed to hug IU’s legs as you aggressively beg for your safety. “You should’ve done that way earlier.” IU’s tone went deep. “BOYS! COME OUT AND HELP ME WITH HIM!” Four men came out through your bedroom and approached you. Eyeing them all both confused and afraid, you tried to slip around and dodge their grasp as they began dragging you into the chair. “No… NO! GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME! J-JI-EUN AH!!!” They bounded your hands on the handlebars of the chair and muffled your mouth with ball gag to restrict any sounds you create that may grab the neighborhood’s attention. Unbeknownst to them, TWICE already called the police including IU’s company regarding about to matter. Sirens echoed around the area, IU and the bodyguards became alerted with the blue, light, and red lights flashing through the window. “Shit, w-what did you do!” IU barked furiously at you. Sounds of running footsteps can be heard from outside. The doors were barged, policemen are gathered outside as the bodyguards surrendered. “Motherfuckers! Why didn’t you all shoot them!” “POLICE! PUT YOUR HANDS UP!” The policemen warned IU. Panicking, she quickly grabbed a knife and pointed it at your neck as she wraps your head around her arm. “HOLD IT!” The leader commanded his men as they start raising their guns at her. “LEE JI-EUN, YOU ARE UNDER ARREST FOR KIDNAPPING YN/LN. DROP YOUR KNIFE OR WE WON’T HESITATE TO SHOOT YOU.” “DON’T YOU DARE, I WILL STAB HIM RIGHT HERE RIGHT NOW!” IU exclaimed. You couldn’t do anything but to sob and stare at the police for mercy.

To your surprise, all of TWICE and aespa members came inside your house while being guarded by the police. They saw your pitiful condition with IU, and they saw the truth with their own eyes. The once idolized by many has turned to a horrendously obsessive   love-crazed psychopath. “IU SUNBAENIM, STOP THIS. PLEASE!” Jihyo shouted. “THIS ISN’T YOU. DON’T RUIN YOUR CAREER JUST FOR HIM!” Karina added. “ALL OF YOU, SHUT UP! DON’T DICTATE ME WHAT I HAVE TO DO FOR HIM.” IU grunted. “HE’S MINE ONLY! NOBODY CAN TAKE HIM AWAY FROM ME, ESPECIALLY YOU BUNCH OF SLUTS!” “Unnie, don’t do this. You can have him now, he’s all yours.” You stared at Nayeon as you heard her. She glances at you, unspoken lingering feelings remaining for one another caught that as a means of goodbye. “We’ve had enough and it stays like that. You can make him change his feelings and grab his attention for yours only without any use of violence of harm. That’s not how you win a person’s heart by turning into a monster.” IU just listened at Nayeon’s appeal. The police were still holding on to their guard in case the suspect pulls out a life-risking manoeuvre. “You were mistaken. It’s your time now, unnie. You should’ve made use of it properly.” Ningning assisted her senior to prevent the misled superstar. “He wouldn’t let me.” IU started crying as she held at the back of your chair for assistance. She dropped the knife she use for threat, the police rushed to arrest the woman while some removed you from hostage. IU was taken to a psychiatric mental hospital in Seoul while you are under therapy due to depression from everything that transpired in the past months. As one last proper goodbye before parting ways for good, TWICE brought you food for your recovery and thanked you for everything despite of what happened before officially turning yourselves from strangers with lots of buried memories created together..

ENDING #3: HAPPY ENDING“I’ll think about it and inform them.” Nayeon told you before ending your communication with them. Grateful and holding on for one last hope at least after she considered your concern, now you wait to learn if your chance of survival still exists against IU’s control. Hours later, IU surprisingly greeted you in a menacing way, invading your property. The bodyguards joined her to set you up for a punishment she could think of by sexually torturing you. Sirens of police cars can be heard, your heart pumped fast as you heard the sound of rescue coming for you. Policemen arrived at the scene of a crime, they cornered IU and the bodyguards. Your eyes watered as you saw TWICE and Aespa made their way to help the police encourage IU to retreat in the power of the law. “Unnie, don’t do this. This won’t make you any less better for him. ” You stared at Nayeon as you heard her. She glances at you and nodded as a gesture to your gratitude. “Consider about your career and your relationship with YN through these years. You’re gonna go and throw them away just like that? “ALL THOSE PEOPLE DID IS TO TAKE EVERYTHING FROM MY POPULARITY AND SUCCESS!!!” IU complained. “That’s why I don’t feel complete even at the peak of my life, because all they did is to steal from my hardwork and passion for my dreams! That’s how awful they are!” Until I met YN again, and he reminded me that he’s the only person around anybody that surrounds me who has been loyal to me. Then in a snap, I wanted more. I came to my senses that it was never enough if it wasn’t him. I don’t just need his company, I need his love.” “Unnie, what you’re doing won’t you make you earn it. Love isn’t something to demand.” Ningning aided her senior to change the deluded superstar’s manipulated mind. “And most importantly, you can’t go terrorizing his life just to be with you.”

“We can’t force anybody to love us back.” Nayeon stated in melancholy. “Please, unnie. You’re my idol, I hate to see you turn into this.” Her worries disappeared when they all saw IU broke out of laughter. “Is that so? Forgive me not, Nayeon-ah… but if I can’t have him, I’ll just make sure NOBODY ELSE WILL!”

“NO!!!” She was about to stab you but the police reacted quickly, they shot IU in the shoulder, preventing your death and a murder case to settle. She lunged back and fell on the floor as the police hurried to arrest the wounded woman while the girls helped you out of the chair. You cried in their embrace as they comforted you. “You’re safe now, YN.” Jihyo whispered to your ears as she laid your head to her shoulder to absorb your pain selflessly. IU was taken to a psychiatric mental hospital in Seoul while you are under therapy due to depression from everything that transpired in the past months. As one last proper goodbye before parting ways for good, TWICE brought you food for your recovery. Aespa also personally apologized for how they treated you and concluded with a confession that they fell in love with you too but called it done as they wanted to pave the way for others they believed to be more suitable for him. In return, friendship has been restored by a closure with them that went smoothly because of how open-minded they are as you admitted what you've been planning to them secretly. You noticed a letter inserted on a basket of fruits in your last day of stay on your room. Reading the letter, a particular paragraph caught your eyes that made you tearful and heart throbbing in longing for their long-awaited affection. Finishing your treatment with the doctors handpicked by the girls with the help of the company’s connection, you left the hospital in great condition. A van stopped and its doors opened, Jihyo exits along the rest of the TWICE members. You can’t help but to cry again seeing them, which can be said the same for how they feel for you too. They came to approach and envelope you to a group hug, emotions going lively inside. “I’m sorry for everything, girls. I really do.” You apologized for the nth time and you will never stop reminding them how you willingly make yourself accountable. “I never stopped loving you all.” you finally said the words you’ve wanted to tell them. “We know, even if we try to forget you we just… couldn’t.” Jihyo replied. “Because our hearts prefer nothing but you. It’s hard to let go when we couldn’t lie to ourselves that we still love you. ”

Entering the van and away from the sight of the public, all TWICE members kissed you and included you in a group cuddle as they ride back home for a new beginning of their relationship. == END ==

[lovelyghst]

thinking about older!bf simon riley with his younger girlfriend <3

older!bf simon riley who would pull you into his lap at any chance he gets. at home while he's on the couch, tugging your passing frame into his to hear your pretty squeal of surprise. at the bar, so he can wrap his big arms around your waist and ensure you don't get lost or messed with. getting you all flustered and sinking into him, tense shoulders relaxing when he kisses your cheek. at any and every available moment of his waking day, he's going to hold you close.

older!bf simon riley who constantly has to have a hand on you. on your hip in passing, cupping your knee or shoulder whenever sat next to each other. holding your hand while out and about in public is an absolute must, as well as on your thigh with your fingers still laced as he's driving. sometimes he'll just put you in a gentle chokehold while you lean back against his chest and aimlessly scroll on your phone, him either watching from over your shoulder for entertainment or on the verge of nodding off 'cause your warmth is so comforting to him.

older!bf simon riley who spoils you beyond what the definition entails. he could never get enough of your parted lips and raised brows whenever he walks in with yet another new piece of expensive jewelry for you, and your pitiful refusals for overly chic clothes and meals that only scream ‘yes, and more’ in his mind.

older!bf simon riley who can't even begin to understand your admiration for your personal belongings such as stuffed animals and the dozens of baby-pink blankets you snuggle up with, but he always admits how much he absolutely adores you for it. he proves that through buying you more rather than allowing for you to settle with what you already have, and agreeing to cuddling under said blankets despite the false look of annoyance plastered on his expression.

older!bf simon riley who will gladly flex for you and your photos or entertainment, even if his face tells you he’s disgruntled. wrapping a big arm around your midsection for a mirror pic, pumping his bicep so you can watch all the veins and muscles become more prominent. he just loves to see a bemused smile on his pretty girl's face.

older!bf simon riley who took a while before he came to terms with just how much influence he has over you, between the simplest of word choices and interactions. frequently makes sure to tell you he’s proud of you, giving you all sorts of praises that remind you who you belong to. would rather die than see a serious frown on your face or have you go a second thinking you’re not doing enough. his crude jokes and unfiltered vocabulary makes it difficult, but he can adjust.

but also older!bf simon riley and his desires for his lovely, little plaything :)

older!bf simon riley who essentially ‘tricks’ you into scandalous positions. sometimes it’s as sweet as dipping his thumb in brownie batter and asking you to clean it off for him but only using your lips and tongue, and other times he’s shamelessly coming up behind you to cage you in against the counter, lazily grind his crotch against your ass, and satiating his morning hard-on as he plays it off as merely hugging his pretty baby good morning.

older!bf simon riley who has you grind on things before he gives you anything more. your pillow, a stuffed animal, even his thigh or boot if he's feeling generous. he likes to have you warmed up for him, and his favorite part is how you ask so, so nicely for his cock afterwards. he knows he's a sick man when the sight of you whining and crying for more than an innocent plushie against your cunt has him harder than ever, especially when he denies you a break and you follow his orders almost always perfectly. if not, it's alright; he doesn't mind teaching his girl a few things, or threatening you with a little punishment.

older!bf simon riley who sparks an oral fixation in you and plays into it incessantly. your head will be perched between his thighs, pretty and drooling mouth cockwarming him as he finishes up a few calls. or, more domestically, he’ll notice you biting at your nails as you study or watch a movie next to him, prompting him to shove his ring and middle fingers in your mouth without uttering a single word.

older!bf simon riley who loves to have you suck on his thumb as he fucks you, sometimes leaving it in your mouth as you sleep soundly.

older!bf simon riley who finds humor in making you ask for what you want, going as far as outright refusing to give any of it to you ‘til you listen. likes making you say some of the most deprived sentences you’d never even think to say yourself, regarding your own body.

“c’mon, darling. tell me how much you want me to stuff my cock in this needy, tight little cunt of yours. fuckin’ soaked for it, y’must want it bad.”

“need it really bad, si, please…want you in me,” you plead.

he shakes his head; “not like that, baby. say it how i did.” and when your face heats up, going all shy on him at the prospect, he urges you on: “go on, it’s alright. just say it.”

“…want you to stuff your cock in my needy, little cunt,” you murmur.

“atta girl,” he smiles, not sure if it’s from the words themselves or how his stupid doll couldn’t even keep a clear voice throughout.

older!bf simon riley who will fuck you hard into the mattress as you cling on to one of your aforementioned plushies. cooing at you to hug it tighter to your chest, making you tell it how good he's making you feel. will only ever use it against you if you try to hide from him behind the plushie, prompting him to rip it from your smaller hands and throw it across the bed. you'll whine and cry but simon doesn't care, as long as he gets to see your pretty, fucked-out expression.

older!bf simon riley who mocks you for how terribly wet you get when he’s manhandling you. pulling away from him cause you know it’ll result in being overpowered and perched over his lap, refusing to meet his eyes so he’s forced to slap your cheek to get you to focus - with no real force behind it, of course - just enough to get through your insubordinate, ill-mannered mood. his favorite is when you’re being snappy at him for no apparent reason so he has an excuse to fuck you back into your place. act like a brat, get treated like one.

older!bf simon riley who gets off on the amount of power he has over you due to his age. how you instantly end your arguing when he reminds you that you don't know the world like he does, and using it as an opportunity to get you on your knees as an apology for thinking you could possibly be right over him. shoving his cock in your mouth to keep anything else so useless from coming out of it, showing you a better purpose for that snappy, inexperienced throat of yours.  

older!bf simon riley who tries to keep his debauched lessons to a minimum, however, as the last thing he wants to do is scare off his sweet, little trophy girl. he spends most nights with his head locked in between your soft thighs for the better part of an hour, sometimes much longer, licking and finger-fucking your pretty cunt til you're lightheaded and overstimulated and ready for his fat cock. 

older!bf simon riley who pulls the, “so proud of you, pretty baby,” while he’s hitting impossibly deep in your pussy 'cause he knows it’s what gets you going the most, what gets you to stop thinking too much. “that’s it, good fuckin’ girl,” and, “takin’ me so well, sweets.” once in a blue moon, “little cunt’s desperate for attention, ain’t she? just beggin’ to be fucked and ruined by a man twice her age, eh?”

honestly i just think that older!bf simon riley is everything a girl needs!!

[ammifanart]

Do you think in another universe Cacao could've been a good father?

Personally. I believe Dark Cacao is a good father.

Rant incoming >:O.

From the canon context we get hints that Dark Cacao may have been a strict or a distant father, but not an unloving one. The reason Dark Cacao got so angry and terrible to Dark Choco was because he felt betrayed and heartache. Dark Choco attacked his father and almost KILLED him. That shit imo is way worse than anything Dark cacao could have done.

It was a bad choice for him to banish his son and afterward he said some mean ass shit to him (Like I will kill him myself and He was not his son) when he came back but Dark choco came back with the intent to KILL him again and take his sword so I believe he was just reacting to what Dark Choco was doing. I love both of them but out of the two I feel more sorry for Dark Cacao as a parent. He thought he was doing right by Dark Choco. But it just turned him power hungry.

Dark Choco was under the influence of the Strawberry Jam cursed sword but he still yearned for power above all. Thats why he took the sword in the first place. Dark Cacao says he regrets not teaching him that the reason he taught him to fight was to protect things, not just for the sake of might. He knew this, but he assumed Dark Choco would also learn this without being shown it. Anyway. TLDR. I don't think he's a bad father in the story. But if you mean a HEALTHIER parent to Dark Choco. He could have been yeah, way healthier.

Oh and Edit:

I am not saying Dark choco wasn't a victim of some bad parenting, he certainly was. And it's legit canon brother has PTSD. But things got as bad as they did because Dark Choco saught power and got corrupted by the sword.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Geta’s kisses were strong, possessive as though he was intentionally making himself envious of the idea that your lips had been touched by another before him.

His hand could be found at your neck more often than not, squeezing it now and then as though to remind you of who was the more dominate one out of the two of you, his thumb would even caress the pulse on your neck to see whether he was doing things that made your heart work a little harder.

His kisses were hot and soft at the same time. yet firm and had a way of leaving you a little breathless afterwards. He’s a man that has everything and yet he still heavily influenced by human greed and desire for even more, so much more despite controlling an already dominating empire.

So to say his kisses weren’t also demanding for more and more of you was an understatement as he would always find the need to deepen the kiss, invade your mouth with his tongue after demanding entrance before taking complete control. His kisses didn’t allow you to be in control anytime at all, for Geta always needs to be in content power no matter what for he doesn’t like the feeling of being weak or easily overthrown in anything.

Yet let’s say after an almost successful assassination attempt on either of your lives, Geta’s kisses become more of a celebration of living, a reminder that you were both still alive despite what the gods chose to throw at you and how you both continue to thrive regardless. His kisses were also ones of relief that his reign got to continue but also that you weren’t taken from him unceremoniously, not that he would ever admit it to you but he wasn’t quiet ready to give you up just yet, not when he was heavily indulging on the taste of your lips and how nicely you slot against him.

Caracalla’s kisses were bruising and felt rough, rushed as though he was running out of time and he wanted to taste every last part of you before so, even if meant suffering through his harsh bites to your bottom lip and causing it to bleed somewhat before slipping his tongue in.

His kisses left your lips aching and had a lingering tingling feeling of pain, it made you wonder if the man smiling before you was capable of a softer and less intense way to express his innermost passion and love. He was, it was just extraordinary rare that you were led to believe you married a man whose only emotions was sadistic and lustful.

Yet on the rare one off occasion where he’d be feeling soft and affectionate his kisses became soft, almost featherlight, and tender as he scattered them across your jaw, neck and collar bone as though he was eagerly chasing after something as you ran your fingers through his fiery hair in content. His kisses were almost desperate to keep you with him, to remind you that he was the one you married and dedicated yourself to despite his inherent chaos.

He tries to prolong the kisses as much as possible as they varied from moment to moment depending on his emotions and where his minds was in during the kisses. So with Caracalla you were subjected to more lustful, ravenous, carnivorous as though he was trying to devour you or make you into one being through deepened kisses and painful looking love-bites that left you wincing upon grazing them.

His kisses were like fire but you couldn’t help but grow addicted to it and the sting that came from his teeth digging into your bottom lip, he wasn’t good for you and yet you couldn’t help but become more and more convinced through every kiss that you could help him, become his solace and safe space; yet you knew deep down that would never be the case but yet his kisses made you all the more ignorant to his more dangerous capabilities in other aspects as though he was slowly corrupting you with each and every kiss.

[mggslover]

Addicted

In which Spencer meets a beautiful stranger at his local dealer, his addiction to weed rapidly turning into an addiction to her.

Pairing: stoner!spencer x stoner!fem!reader Genre: slight angst x smut (18+) Content warnings: weed usage (not promoting it! pls zont zo it), short mentions of tobias hankel and maeve, finger sucking, mutual masturbation, lazy high sex Word count: 3,6k A/n: my first fic inspired on a song! when i listened to 'denial is a river' by doechii, this fic immediately started to form in my mind

Spencer oftentimes wondered when he started becoming afraid of his own mind. Maybe there was never a starting point — maybe it was rooted in his bones, something he never had the chance to escape. An inherited terror, passed down like a family heirloom. 

He knew the descent into insanity was inevitable. That there would come a time when his mind, the thing he’s relied on all his life, would betray him. That he’d watch the pieces of himself scatter until his identity was nothing but a cruel mockery of who he once was.

What Spencer didn’t expect was for that moment to arrive so soon. He never imagined his first meeting with madness to be in a dark cabin as the sting of Dilaudid coursed through his veins. And what Spencer least expected was how he’d feel afterward — how, no matter the trauma, he would find himself aching for that sensation, longing for it to return.

With his reason still intact, he managed to sign himself up for a support group destined for addicts in law enforcement. Rehab might’ve been the hardest battle he’d had to face, and being clean is a title he still doesn't deserve. Because even though it’s been years since his arms last looked blue, he’s been smoking weed habitually. 

It started when a police officer in the program spoke up about his struggle with weed addiction, going into detail about the tranquilizing effects and how it left him unable to focus on the job. Whereas his story would sound appalling to most, Spencer found appeal in its descriptions. Cannabis offered the same calming qualities as Dilaudid, but with a lower overdose risk, and on top of that, it was far easier to obtain.

So when the officer casually slipped his dealer’s address in the middle of immersively sharing his story, Spencer made a mental note and found himself on the location later that day. The transaction was easier than he’d expected; showing the cash in his pocket was enough for the gruff man to hand him a small, opaque bag, its contents concealed. 

That same night, Spencer found himself sitting on his couch, supplies spread out on the coffee table before him. He remembered a guy from his PhD mathematics program, rolling a blunt in Yale’s community garden under the same big tree where Spencer would read his literature for the day. It gave him some of an idea on how to proceed. Once he had the wrap filled, he methodically pinched and smoothed the paper as he rolled it with his fingers, careful to avoid tearing. 

He didn’t feel much with the first drag, but as he inhaled deeper, a tingling sensation spread to his head and chest, almost coaxing him into a dosed state. The world around him instantly softened, and he sank further into the couch, as if a fuzzy, warm blanket had draped over him.

That moment marked the first of many, as Spencer would often return to the plant when experiencing withdrawal or when he started developing headaches later in his life. He frequently recalled how the officer mentioned performing less at his job while under the influence, but for Spencer, it had the opposite effect. He tended to approach cases too objectively and analytically. When he would go home at the end of the day and smoke before bed, his mind would suddenly make creative, out-of-the-box connections — connections he had never considered before. 

Spencer wasn’t ready to give up weed just yet.

———

You were lying down, your head resting on the armrest of the pink velvet couch that stood in the corner of your therapist’s office. For the past fifteen minutes, you’d been staring at a small star painted on the ceiling, which was part of a mural of the universe. It was supposed to help people ground themselves — to remind them that their existence was nothing more than a tiny spark in the entire cosmos.

“I don’t know,” you eventually responded in a sigh as your therapist questioned you once again. “This is a really dark time for me, I’m going through a lot.”

“By ‘a lot’, you mean drugs?”

You were thrown off guard by the inquiry, brows furrowing. “Um, I wouldn’t-”

“Drugs?” She repeated, her pen ready in hand, as her notebook rested open on her lap.

Your head shot up from its position on the armrest of the couch. “No, it’s a-”

“No?” She probed, her eyes raised up, glasses perched on the bridge of her nose.

“It’s a natural plant,” you stated, sitting up straighter.

“No, I’m not judging.”

You rolled your eyes at her attempt to reassure you. “I’m not an addict.” 

“I’m just saying-”

“I don’t think-”

“You wanna talk about it?”

———

The door slamming behind you was as much of a response as you would offer her. With hurried steps you walked out of the building, hand reaching into your pocket as you searched for your car keys. With a small click of the door, you entered your beat-up old car, shivering as you still haven’t been able to fix the radiator. 

You didn’t need to pull up the GPS — not that you even owned one — to know where you were headed. You speed-dialed your dealer as you rounded a corner, and maybe that was enough to confirm that you did have a bit of a problem with drugs. At least you were seeing a therapist; not many can say the same.

The sun was disappearing behind the clouds as you pulled into the familiar motell parking lot. There was a chill in the air, making you pull your jacket tighter around you as you walked toward room number 13. 

Your attention was drawn to a tall, lanky man with messy curls, bouncing on the balls of his feet with his hands tucked in his pockets as he stood in front of the door. It was a rare sight to see someone ahead of you in line — usually people would arrive one by one to not bring any attention to the scene, but then again, you made an appointment at the very last minute.

You walked up to him, standing beside him in an attempt to make the scene look like a casual visit. You offered a polite smile, which he returned with a brief wave of his hand. Awkwardly, you turned your gaze to the door in front of you, waiting. You could feel his eyes scanning over you, making you reach up to fix your hair, just in case something was out of place. He seemed to notice your action and turned his head.

After a minute, you cleared your throat. “Did you knock?”

He looked at you, and you weren’t expecting the flutter in your stomach as you met his deep, brown eyes. 

“I did,” he answered. “It’s been four minutes and twenty eight seconds, which, based on my previous encounters, gives him approximately three more seconds to open the door.”

You fell silent as the door opened, just like the handsome stranger had predicted. You reached into your jacket pocket, pausing when you found it empty. Your heart began racing as you checked the other pocket, then anxiously patted down your jeans.

“Fuck.”

“Are you okay?” The brown-haired man asked in concern.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just- I forgot my wallet.” 

“I could pay for you.” 

The casualty of his offer took you by surprise. “Really?” 

It was embarrassing that you didn’t turn him down, but you didn’t have the energy to be polite — today had been rough, and all you wanted to do was go home and relax. You felt a little less guilty when the stranger’s lips curled into a smile, as if he was happy to do this for you.

“Well, I don’t give a shit who pays. Just give the damn money — it’s cold.” 

The stranger’s lips tightened in response as he handed the man twice the usual amount of bills. The dealer handed over two small bags in return, closing the door behind him with a loud slam. 

“Here you go.”

You breathed out a soft ‘thank you’ as you accepted the bag from him. “I’ll pay you back next time.”

“That’s okay. I don’t mind,” he replied with a casual wave of his hand. 

You exchanged names, which led him to compliment yours and give you a brief history lesson on its origins. 

“I never expected to learn more about myself from a total stranger,” you chuckled. 

You didn’t notice he had walked you to your car until you stopped in front of it. “This is me. Where are you parked, or are you staying here?”

“I got here by subway, actually.”

You raised your brows, surprised. This wasn’t the safest neighborhood, especially at night, and Spencer didn’t strike you as the type to wander around here. 

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” you asked, just to be certain.

“Absolutely!” he answered, lifting up his shirt, revealing a gun holstered at his waist. “I can handle myself.”

Alarm bells blared in your mind at the sight, and you instinctively stepped back. 

“Wait! No, no, no,” Spencer put his hands up, showing you that he meant no harm. “I work at the FBI.”

He could read the doubt in your expression, slowly moving one hand to his jacket while keeping the other raised in the air. Carefully, he retrieved his badge and held it out, revealing it to you. You leaned in, observing the golden emblem and the ID picture beside it.

“Now, that wasn’t what I was expecting,” you said with a relieved sigh. “I guess I can offer you a ride, then?”

Spencer looked at you, as if considering all the possible outcomes of his answer. He ended up nodding his head and giving you a soft grin.  

“I’d appreciate that. Thanks.” 

The car ride was filled with a comfortable silence, the weight of the day settling over both of you. 

“You seem nervous,” he observed.

“How’d you know?”

“Your fingers are tapping against the steering wheel, and they’re out of rhythm with the radio, so it’s not like you’re tapping along with the song.”

“I guess I am.” You turned your head to him, then back to the road. “It has nothing to do with you, though. I feel oddly comfortable around you.”

When you glanced at him again, he was smiling, a glimmer in his eyes, shyly playing with his fingers. “Me too.”

———

You hadn’t expected Spencer to invite you in when you arrived at his house. He suggested you smoke together, saying you shouldn’t be driving while feeling anxious. 

Honestly, you didn’t care about the reasoning. You just wanted to spend more time with him. 

You were sitting beside him on the couch, legs pulled up and half draped over his as you took another drag from your joint. You didn’t know who started the conversation, but somehow you found yourself opening up about life and its struggles.

“I caught my ex cheating. He was supposed to pick up his stuff and leave the next day, but instead he crashed my place and just… destroyed everything I owned.”

His expression remained neutral, like he was trying not to judge, though his eyes said enough. After a beat, he spoke up again. “My girlfriend got shot in front of my face.”

Your eyes widened in shock, but the weed dulled your reaction. “Oh shit.”

“Yeah… shit,” he muttered in an exhale, picking up his joint again. 

Your eyes were drawn to his fingers, noticing the long, slender shape of them, the small bones shifting under his skin as he gripped the joint. The image of a tree flashed through your mind, its branches moving in the wind — or maybe it was just the weed making your mind wander. 

As he brought the joint to his lips, your gaze followed the movement, your breath catching when his pink lips parted just enough to reveal a hint of his tongue. A shiver ran down your spine as your eyes lingered there, entranced. He closed his lips around it, letting out a low hum that was almost a moan as he inhaled. 

He exhaled, filling the air with smoke, the rich scent enveloping you.

“Can I take a hit?” 

He didn’t question why you weren’t using your own. Instead he handed you the joint, his fingers brushing lightly against yours as you took it.  

You kept eye contact with him as you placed it between your lips, softly moaning at the contact, knowing his mouth had been right where yours was. 

Spencer took you in with dark, tired eyes. You threw your leg over his thigh, feeling the need to be closer to him as the air around you grew warmer. 

He didn’t seem to mind your clinginess, which gave you the confidence to lean in closer. Carefully, you reached out, your nails lightly grazing his jaw, making him shiver as he let out a quiet purr at the touch. 

“What are you doing?” he asked in a husky whisper, more intrigued than accusatory.

“I’m horny,” you whispered against his lips, fingers trailing down his jaw. 

His breath heaved at the proximity. “Evidence shows that cannabis can enhance sexual pleasure.” 

“Yeah?” you purred, lips brushing against his. “And what should I do about it?”

“You should touch yourself.”

“Should I now?” your voice teasingly sang as you leaned back, your hands sensually moving up the sides of your body before squeezing your breasts through your shirt.

“Like this?”

He blinked a couple of times, licking his lips. “A bit lower.”

You smirked, your hands trailing down your body, relishing how he was taking you in, unable to look away. Your hand stopped as you cupped your heat through your clothes, slowly rubbing your fingers in circles. “Here?”

He groaned at the sight, nodding his head in confirmation. “Right there.”

Spencer’s bulge pressed against your leg, which you had thrown over his lap. You couldn’t resist moving against it, making him gasp as he threw his head back.

“You should take care of that,” you suggested, nodding towards his pants. “Let me give you something to work with.” 

Spencer’s gaze was expectant, as he watched you slowly peel your clothes off. Inch by inch, you revealed your skin, leaving him desperate for more. 

Spencer mirrored your actions, undressing himself before he took a hold of your bare leg, placing it back on his lap, so that your legs were spread wide open. With one arm behind you, he pulled you in closer, his other hand reaching out to caress the skin in between your breasts, making you catch your breath. 

His hand trailed further up your skin, until his fingers were lightly tapping against your lips. “Open up for me,” he murmured.

You obeyed without hesitation, parting your lips for him to slide two of his fingers inside of your mouth. You responded instinctively, wrapping your lips around them, your cheeks hollowing as you started moving your head back and forth. Your tongue swirled in lazy circles, humming at the taste of his skin.

“Good girl,” he cooed in approval. “Get them all nice and wet, so that I can touch you.”

Spencer watched your eyes sparkle at his words. When a moan escaped your lips, vibrating around his fingers, he was reminded once again why he loved being high — it soothed his anxiety in a way that made his thoughts spill out without overthinking. And it thrilled him to see the effect his words had on you, words that would usually stay locked in his mind. 

The hand that had been resting around your shoulder wandered down to your breast, giving it an experimental squeeze. You moaned around his fingers, meeting his gaze, his nose nearly brushing yours as he watched you with intent focus. 

He pulled his fingers from your mouth with a pop, before he reached down to press them against your pussy. You closed your eyes in bliss as he rubbed his fingers up and down your slit, the combined juices of your slickness and your mouth made his fingers easily slip between your folds with every move.

“You’re so wet,” he whispered in awe as he pressed a soft kiss to the side of your mouth. 

“That’s your fault,” you teased, a playful smile tugging at your lips. He chuckled, his breath brushing your cheek. “I’ll take the blame,” he murmured before pressing his mouth to yours.

You hungrily accepted his kiss. Your hand slid between his thighs, finding his hard length pressed against his stomach. His cock felt warm against your palm as you wrapped your fingers around him, the movement causing a string of precum to form, connecting from his tip to his happy trail. 

Spencer groaned into your mouth, his tongue swirling against yours, deepening the kiss even further. You traced your thumb over the sensitive head of his cock, causing him to buck his hips and pressing his fingers harder against your clit in response. 

You squirmed at the intensity of his touch. His slender fingers continued to trail over your pussy, teasing with delicate strokes before slipping a finger into your dripping heat.

“Fuck, that feels good,” you moaned. 

You began stroking his length, squeezing him gently as you flicked your wrist. Every movement was a lazy, unhurried exploration of each other’s bodies. Savoring the haze of the high as it sharpened your every sensation. 

You broke the kiss, as you reached for the joint on the coffee table, turning toward Spencer with a playful glint in your eye. He gratefully parted his lips, as you placed the roll between them. He took a deep drag, the smoke curling into his lungs. You leaned closer, opening your mouth in anticipation to receive the smoky breath he exhaled, as you shared the pleasure.

Spencer took in the sight of you. Your swollen lips were slightly parted as you breathed in. Your nipples were hard with excitement, and your pussy glistened around his fingers as he slowly pumped them in and out of you. You were a sight to behold, and he couldn’t believe how lucky he’d gotten tonight.

He could look at you all day. He’s never felt so drawn to someone before, and he could easily finish just by watching your body as you sat bare in front of him. His cock fitted perfectly in your delicate hands. You were gripping him just right, bringing him closer to the release he’s been longing for.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, the words slipping out naturally. 

“So are you,” you replied just as sensually, your eyes tracing the way your hand palmed him, feeling his heavy weight in your grip. “I wanna know how you’d feel inside of me.”

A flush crept across his cheeks at your bluntness. “Yeah?”

You nodded slowly, humming in response. “Bet you’d fill me up so good.”

“Jesus,” he groaned, swallowing hard as he could feel the way you clenched around his fingers.

“Are you clean?” you asked him, and he quickly nodded.

He eagerly grabbed your hips as you crawled on top of him, moaning softly as he felt the weight of you. His hand slid to your neck, pulling you in for a sloppy kiss, sucking your bottom lip.

You reached down between your bodies, fingers curling around his thick length as you guided him to your entrance. You let out a shaky whisper as he filled you up more than you expected. Spencer noted the furrow in your brow, but before he could remind you to take your time, you were already rocking your hips against him.

“Oh, baby,” he cried out, his hands sliding to your back as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Your thighs rolled over his, and he met your pace, thrusting up into you.

“You feel so good,” he continued moaning as his fingers dug into your skin. 

You could only whimper in response and you fastened your movements, your breasts brushing against him with each slide of your hips.

He could feel you tightening around him, your legs trembling against his. “Spencer, I-”

You didn’t need to finish your sentence for him to understand. “Me too, sweetheart,” he groaned. “Please, don’t stop.”

You kept moving, the urgency in his voice spurring you on. You leaned in to capture his lips one more time, and Spencer accepted with a desperate whine. 

The pressure in your core finally broke, and you cried out his name as an overwhelming pleasure washed over you. Spencer’s grip on your hips tightened, and he pushed up into you one last time, his body shuddering as the warmth of his release filled you.

“You’re so amazing,” he sleepily groaned, nuzzling his head into your chest as you came down from the high. You chuckled at the scene, unsure if he even noticed how clingy he was being. It had to be the weed that made him hold onto you like that, but the action still made your heart flutter, imagining how you could be the reason why he’s acting this way.  

“Can you pick up the joint for me?” he softly asked, his lips brushing against your stomach. 

You giggled. “You’re really an addict.”

“I’m just addicted to you.”

[celestiamour]

Hej, czy mógłbyś stworzyć grę fem-reader x thanos (gra squid), w której oboje mają ten sam klimat i są najlepszymi przyjaciółmi z dzieciństwa, ale thanos zakochuje się w niej i w końcu mówi jej o tym w pierwszej grze??? (Jeśli uważasz, że to głupie, pomiń) Miłego dnia/nocy 😁🙏

ft. choi su-bong (thanos) x gn! reader — squid game

╰₊✧ childhood best friend! reader┊0.6k words

contains: thanos is his own warning, mentions of bullying, canon-typical violence, drug use, love confessions, they have the same energy, this sucks I'm so sorry

➤ author's note: i forgot how to write!! please be patient with me!! (i hope i translated this right)

╰₊✧ let’s get one thing straight, you probably teamed up to steal lunch money from other kids and maybe even pushed them into lockers afterward: a troublesome duo who ended up in the principal’s office more than once and had to be seated far away from each other or else the entire classroom would erupt into chaos. your parents told both of you to stay away from the other as they were a terrible influence, but it just had you guys sneaking out in the middle of the night to hang out at a nearby park.

╰₊✧ that’s when he realizes you’re his first love probably, pushing you on the swing set at two in the morning with nothing but a dim street light to light up the night, barely in high school and yet determined to make you his. unfortunately, while he’s trying to figure out how to tell you or figure out how you feel about him so as not to ruin the friendship, you tragically move away for some reason and leave him broken-hearted.

╰₊✧ he wrote his first rap about this experience, and it touched hearts all around the world, probably launched his career, and remains in his top ten most streamed songs. 

╰₊✧ alright, now to the games, the second he laid eyes on you, it was like all the young love buried from years ago hit him like a ton of bricks. he audibly gasped as if he had just run into the queen of england, even making his fans turn their heads, jogging up to you to see if you remembered him. he’s so excited, he almost trips on his way over.

╰₊✧ on your end, you remembered him obviously, he’s made quite a name for himself and you’ve seen clips of his music videos/performances which you look into every now and then out of curiosity. you would be lying if you said he wasn’t even more handsome than the screens do him justice, his brightly-colored purple hair seemed to suit him so well and he’s grown so tall. you’re also pleased to see that little has changed about his attitude, still the same old su-bong you remember him to be.

╰₊✧ you two are probably near each other when the true nature of the game is revealed, and he offers you one of the colorful pills hidden in his cross necklace which you smack him for getting into drugs, but you can’t say you’re surprised. he becomes so carefree afterward that he blatantly pushes three other people over and watches them get shot for the fun of it, but he also does the contradictory action of hiding you behind him to make sure you don’t get shot. 

╰₊✧ the smile that splits his face when he hears you laughing and going along with his antics is worthy of being photographed when it hits him that this experience would be much like the times you both shared as kids. he finally reunited with his childhood best friend, and he’s going to make the most of the time you have together— death games be damned! 

╰₊✧ keeps you close throughout the voting process and confesses his love once he sees you press the blue button. the amount of time you both have left is uncertain, but if you both help each other out and make it out alive, then the leftover money will go to the future he dreamed of having with you. he doesn’t care if it seems unrealistic or too ideal, he’s thanos and nothing was ever impossible for him.

╰₊✧ of course, you say yes and become a force to be reckoned with!

[mrsfancyferrari]

Marriage of Convenience

Summary: Lewis has to get married to you for a year for his engagement in Ferrari. Who knew how much he would get sucked into your life…. pt 1

Song: Heartless · The Weeknd

Author’s note: Hey guys! I saw some tiktok that was about tropes with F1 drivers and Lewis's one was marriage of convenience. It has stuck with me ever since! I'll be using some real results from the races so it will not always be updated every week! Please like, reblog and share this! 🫶

Word count: 18.8k

MASTERLIST - F1

Lewis Hamilton, the illustrious Formula One champion, stood in the opulent office of his PR manager, the walls adorned with gleaming trophies and framed newspaper articles detailing his meteoric rise in the racing world.

The sun cast a warm glow through the floor-to-ceiling windows, painting the room in a hue of gold that matched the luxury that surrounded him.

Yet, the warmth did little to dispel the chill that had settled in his stomach at the mention of the words "marriage of convenience."

"But why now?" he pressed, his voice laced with a hint of desperation. "I've been single for years, and it's never been an issue."

His PR manager, a sharp-witted woman named Elena, leaned back in her chair, her fingers steepled under her chin.

She wore a smile that was both empathetic and firm, as if she knew this was a battle she'd already won.

"Lewis, my dear," she began, her British accent crisp and professional, "the rumors have been swirling like a tornado around a trailer park. Your personal life is becoming a distraction, and your competitors are using it to their advantage. A whirlwind romance, a quick 'I do,' and voilà, you're the settled, mature, and dedicated racer that everyone adores."

Lewis sighed, running a hand through his close-cropped hair. "Fine," he conceded with a begrudging nod. "But you're finding someone who understands this is all for show, right? No strings attached, no messy feelings."

Elena's smile grew wider, a knowing glint in her eye. "Leave that to me," she said. "I have the perfect candidate in mind."

"Her name is Y/N," Elena began, sliding a sleek manila folder across her desk. "She's a model and an influencer with a taste for fast cars and an even faster lifestyle."

She opened the folder to reveal a photograph of a breathtaking black woman with goddess braids that cascaded down her back like a midnight waterfall.

Her almond-shaped eyes sparkled with intelligence and a hint of mischief, her full lips curving into a smile that could make the sternest of hearts flutter. "Y/N understands the business, and she's more than capable of playing her part. She's signed an NDA that would make Fort Knox look like a suggestion box."

Lewis studied the photo, his heart racing slightly at the thought of being married, even if it was just for show. He wasn't a stranger to beautiful women, but this was different—this was a strategic move, a chess piece in the grand game of his career.

He cleared his throat, trying to push aside the butterflies. "Alright, let's get this over with. When do I meet her?"

Elena's smile remained unwavering. "Tomorrow night, I've set up a dinner meeting at Le Château de Lumières. It's the most romantic spot in the city, perfect for a first date that'll look like it was plucked from a fairytale."

Lewis nodded, his throat suddenly dry. "Fine," he murmured, his eyes still lingering on the picture. "But what happens after the season ends?"

Elena leaned in closer, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "Then, my dear Lewis, we orchestrate a spectacularly tragic fallout. Something dramatic, but not scandalous—perhaps you're both too busy with your careers, or you realized you were better off as friends. The public will eat it up, and you'll be free to pursue whatever—or whoever—you wish afterward."

He nodded, trying to calm down the tornado of emotions swirling inside him. Marriage, even a fake one, was a concept he'd never truly considered.

The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on his shoulders, but he knew he had to trust Elena.

She had a knack for spinning his life into gold, and if this was what she deemed necessary for his career to continue shining, then he'd have to go along with it.

Elena slid the folder back to him with a knowing smirk. "You can have the file if you want to admire her more," she teased, her fingertips brushing against the glossy surface of the photo. "Her numbers are in it, of course."

Lewis grumbled something unintelligible under his breath before snatching it and walking out of the office, his mind racing with a mix of apprehension and intrigue.

The folder felt heavier than it should have, as if it contained the weight of his future rather than just a few pieces of paper and a photo.

He knew the drill—fake relationships had been part of his public persona before, but marriage was a whole new level of commitment, even if it was just for show.

"Remember to study her likes and hobbies, you might find something in common," Elena yelled from the office. He couldn't help but smirk at her enthusiasm—it was infectious. He knew she had his back, and that was all that mattered.

Back in his penthouse, Lewis found himself staring at the folder on his coffee table, Y/N's mesmerizing eyes peeking out from the photograph.

He decided to take Elena's advice, eager to find common ground with his soon-to-be fake wife. As he scanned through the pages detailing her life, he found himself genuinely intrigued.

Her love for fast cars, her charity work, and her penchant for extreme sports mirrored his own passions.

Perhaps this wouldn't be so bad after all.

With a sigh of resignation, he pulled out his phone and searched for her social media profiles. He told himself he was only interested in her fashion sense, but as he scrolled through her feed, he couldn't help but admire her beauty.

Each picture was a masterpiece of angles and lighting, showcasing not only her impeccable style but also the way she carried herself with an air of confidence and grace.

Her figure was a symphony of curves, each one highlighted by the designer garments she modeled. But he was a man of integrity, so he focused solely on her outfits, nodding in approval at her exquisite taste in luxury brands.

He noticed her love for racing reflected in some of her captions, with shots at various Formula One tracks around the globe. It was clear that she had an appreciation for the sport that went beyond the glamour.

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀

"Fans would definitely believe this," he murmured to himself, his thumb hovering over the screen.

They both shared a love for speed and the thrill of the chase—both on and off the track.

With a sigh, he set his phone aside and rolled onto his back, his thoughts racing faster than his cars ever could. The reality of the situation was setting in: he was about to embark on a season-long charade with a woman he had never even met. His stomach churned with a mix of anxiety and anticipation.

As he lay there, the sound of a bark pierced the silence, jolting him out of his contemplative haze. Quick footsteps approached, and before he could react, Roscoe's furry face poked into the doorway. The bulldog's eyes sparkled with curiosity, his tail wagging enthusiastically.

"Did you have a good nap, Roscoe?" Lewis asked, his voice thick with affection. The dog's response was a series of eager growls and sniffs as he trotted over to his dad, his paws thumping rhythmically against the hardwood floor.

Lewis chuckled and sat up, his six-pack abs rippling as he did so. He reached out and scratched behind Roscoe's ear, the dog's eyes closing in bliss. The simple act of bonding with his pet helped to ease the tension that had been building in his chest.

"Alright, buddy," he said, standing and stretching. The fabric of his sweatpants outlined the firm muscles of his thighs and the curve of his ass, evidence of countless hours spent in the gym and behind the wheel. "Tomorrow is a special day, so you better be on your best behavior. You're about to meet the woman who's going to be my fake wife and your fake mom for the season."

Roscoe cocked his head to the side, as if he understood the gravity of the situation. Lewis couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all—his burly bulldog playing step-son to a supermodel for the sake of his image. He stood up and padded over to the windows, his bare feet sinking into the plush carpet, the coolness a stark contrast to the warmth of the day outside.

He looked out over the bustling city, the setting sun casting a fiery glow across the horizon. It was a stark reminder of the race he'd run in the morning, the thrill of the wind in his face and the roar of the engine still echoing in his ears.

Tomorrow would be a different kind of race altogether—a race to win over the hearts of his fans, to keep the sponsors happy, and to maintain the facade of a perfect life. But as he felt the comforting weight of Roscoe's head on his leg, he realized that maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't be so bad to have a partner in this charade.

"Come on, let's get you a treat," Lewis said, his voice a gentle rumble that seemed to resonate through the room. He walked to the kitchen, the dog's nails clicking against the floor as he followed. The sleek chrome and marble surfaces gleamed under the pendant lights, a stark contrast to the warm, lived-in feel of the living room.

Lewis grabbed a treat from the jar on the counter and tossed it to Roscoe, who caught it with surprising grace for his bulk. "You're going to need to charm her, buddy. Maybe even more than you charm the judges at those dog shows."

The bulldog's eyes lit up, and he trotted over to his bed, the treat forgotten as he began to perform a series of clumsy, yet earnest tricks.

Lewis couldn't help but laugh as he watched Roscoe's antics. "I think she'll love you," he said, his voice filled with affection. "But let's not get ahead of ourselves. We're both just actors in this little play."

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

"Y/N, repeat what you just said," your mother repeated, looking utterly perplexed, her perfectly manicured hand hovering over the delicate china teacup as if it were a lifeline to sanity.

"I signed a contract to 'marry' Lewis Hamilton for a year," you announced with the casual air of someone discussing a weekend getaway, a smug smile playing on your lips as you watched the shock ripple through her impeccably made-up visage.

"The Lewis Hamilton?" she queried, her eyes narrowing to slits as she tried to process the ludicrous information you'd just served up like a hot slice of gossip at a high society luncheon.

"Yes, Mother," you drawled, not bothering to look up from your phone as you swiped through the latest collection of designer shoes. "The very one who races cars and breaks hearts for a living. But don't worry, this is strictly business."

Her silence was palpable, thick enough to slice with a knife. You could almost see the cogs whirring in her head, trying to piece together this unexpected jigsaw puzzle of your life.

Finally, she found her voice, "Why on earth would you agree to such a… such a… frivolous arrangement?"

"To boost our engagement," you said, enunciating each word with the precision of a seasoned politician, raising your gaze to meet hers. "It's a win-win, really. His fanbase goes through the roof, and I get to live like a queen for a year. Plus, think of the networking opportunities!"

"But your reputation," she gasped, setting the teacup down with a clink that sounded like a death knell for your social standing.

You rolled your eyes, "Mother, it's all just for show. And it's not like we're actually going to be doing the whole marriage thing. We're just going to pretend."

Her sigh was one of resignation, tinged with a hint of disappointment. "I just hope you know what you're getting into," she murmured, her eyes searching yours for a glimmer of doubt.

"Trust me, I've got it all figured out," you assured her, your voice a blend of confidence and nonchalance that would make any business mogul proud. "Now, if you wouldn't mind, I need to go pick out a wedding dress. The press will be all over this, and I can't disappoint them with a lackluster wardrobe."

Your mother's expression was a masterclass in poise under pressure. "Very well," she conceded. "Send me the pictures. I'll handle the social media side of things."

You leaned in to kiss her cheek, the scent of her expensive perfume lingering as you pulled away. "Thanks, Mother," you said with a wink. "I knew you'd understand."

As you sailed out of the room, her voice followed you like a soft breeze. "Just remember, darling," she called after you, "keep your emotions out of it. You're playing a role, nothing more."

Your heart thudded in your chest, a delicious mix of excitement and trepidation. You had signed up for a year of make-believe with the world's most desired man, and you had no intention of letting reality spoil the fantasy.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

The velvet leash grew taut as Lewis tugged it gently, urging the bulldog, Roscoe, to follow him through the dimly-lit corridor. The dog's jowls swayed with each reluctant step, a silent protest to the indignity of being tethered like a mere accessory.

Despite his displeasure, Roscoe's curiosity about the evening's events remained piqued. The whisper of fabric against fabric grew louder as they approached the private dining room, where the scent of fine cuisine wafted through the air.

"Come on, Roscoe, you have to meet her too," Lewis murmured, his voice a blend of excitement and nerves.

The restaurant's peculiar policy of leashing dogs seemed almost comical in the grand scheme of the evening, yet it was a small price to pay for the exclusivity of the venue.

The walls of the corridor were adorned with paintings of pastoral scenes, a stark contrast to the urban jungle outside.

Upon entering the room, a soft glow from the candles on the table cast a warm embrace around the figure of a woman who was more than just beautiful—she was an embodiment of elegance.

Her eyes sparkled like the diamond necklace that hung delicately around her neck, and her smile was as radiant as the polished silverware that lay before her.

As they drew closer, the air grew thick with anticipation, charged with the electricity of new beginnings and the thrill of the unknown.

Y/N's gaze fell upon the unusual duo—Lewis, the charming billionaire, and Roscoe, the leashed bulldog. Her eyes narrowed playfully as she took in the scene.

She knew that this was not a typical dinner date, and that was precisely what made it so alluring.

"Well, hello, Mr. Hamilton," she purred, her voice a velvet caress that seemed to resonate through the very air. "I'm surprised you didn't bring your entire zoo."

Lewis chuckled, his grip on the leash loosening as he felt the tension in the room dissipate.

"Ms. Y/N, I assure you, this is a very special occasion. Besides, I thought you'd appreciate the company of my best man here."

Her smile grew, a knowing twinkle in her eye. "Best man, huh?" she said, standing up with the grace of a gazelle. "I see you've got a sense of humor, Mr. Hamilton."

Roscoe, feeling the shift in the room, allowed his tail to wag slightly, his earlier annoyance forgotten as he caught the scent of her perfume.

It was a sweet, intoxicating blend of jasmine and vanilla that seemed to speak of exotic lands and passionate nights.

"And who's this handsome boy?" she cooed, leaning down to address Roscoe. The bulldog, ever eager for affection, leaned into her touch, his eyes closing in pleasure.

"Ah, this is Roscoe," Lewis said with a touch of pride. "He's a bit of a diva, but I assure you, he's quite well-behaved when properly motivated."

Y/N reached out to stroke the dog's head, her fingers lingering for a moment longer than necessary, feeling the softness of his fur and the warmth of his body.

"Well, it seems I've got quite the welcoming committee," she said, straightening up to her full height and extending a hand to Lewis.

Their fingers met in a firm, yet delicate handshake, sending a thrill up his spine. Her touch was cool and smooth, like the finest silk, and it sent a jolt through his body that he hadn't felt in years.

"Lewis, please," he said, his voice a whisper. "I think we can dispense with the formalities."

Her hand remained in his, the warmth from their palms mingling, creating a current that seemed to pulse through the very air that surrounded them.

Y/N's eyes searched his, looking for a hint of what was to come, a promise of the evening's delights.

"Very well, Y/N," he murmured, the sound of his voice a caress that seemed to stroke her very soul. "Shall we sit?"

The three of them moved to the table, the leather chairs creaking softly as they settled into them. The table was set with fine china, the crystal glasses casting rainbows of light across the crisp, white linen.

A bottle of champagne chilled in an ice bucket, the promise of a celebration yet to unfold.

As they sat, Y/N couldn't help but feel a strange sense of déjà vu, as if she had been here before, with another man, under very different circumstances.

But this was no ordinary man, and this was certainly no ordinary dinner. The weight of the necklace grew heavier, a silent reminder of the deal she had struck.

The waiter, a young man with impeccable manners, approached with a silver tray laden with hors d'oeuvres. His eyes flickered briefly to the leash in Lewis's hand before he focused on the couple, his expression unchanged.

"Your usual, Mr. Hamilton?" he inquired.

"Yes, thank you, Freddie," Lewis replied, his gaze never leaving hers. "And for the lady?"

Y/N's eyes roved over the selection, her stomach fluttering with a mix of excitement and nerves. "Surprise me," she said with a smile.

The waiter nodded and deftly selected a few items before retreating, leaving them in the warm cocoon of the candlelit room.

The silence that followed was filled with the soft crackle of the candles and the distant clink of silverware on porcelain.

Lewis reached for the champagne bottle, his fingers sure and steady as he popped the cork with a flourish that sent a spray of bubbles into the air.

The sound was like a declaration of intent, a promise of the passion that was to come. He filled her glass, his eyes never leaving hers, and then his own.

"To new beginnings," he toasted, the crystal flutes clinking together like the ringing of wedding bells.

The bubbles danced in the golden liquid, a fizzy symphony of anticipation. Y/N took a sip, the cool liquid sliding down her throat with a tantalizing tickle that made her shiver.

She watched as Lewis did the same, his Adam's apple bobbing with the motion, a gesture she found inexplicably erotic.

"So, do you know more about this… arrangement," he asked, the word 'arrangement' rolling off his tongue like a secret shared between lovers.

"Yes, I do," she spoke politely, setting her glass down with a soft click. "We're supposed to take our wedding photos next week Thursday, but it can be changed if you like."

Her words hung in the air, a silent invitation for him to take the reins, to assert his dominance in this game of pretense they were playing.

He leaned back in his chair, stroking Roscoe's head as he contemplated her words. "I trust you have everything under control, then?"

Y/N's smile grew, a hint of mischief playing at the corners of her lips. "I always do."

"Excellent," he said, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate through her very core. "But there's something I need to discuss with you before we proceed."

Y/N's eyebrow arched slightly, a question lingering in her eyes. "And what might that be?"

Lewis took a deep breath, his gaze flicking to the dog for a brief moment before returning to her. "Do you mind if my dad comes with me?" he said, his voice a soft rumble. "He said this was the 'only' time he was going to see his son get married."

Surprise flitted across Y/N's features, but she quickly schooled her expression back to neutral. "Of course," she said, her tone even. "I would be happy to include your father in our…arrangement."

Lewis's eyes searched hers, looking for any sign of hesitation or mockery. Finding none, he nodded slowly.

"Thank you," he murmured, feeling a weight lift from his shoulders. "He's quite the character, but he means well."

Y/N's smile grew warmer, her eyes gleaming with understanding. "I'm sure he does," she said. "And I'm quite fond of characters myself."

"As long as my mother can come too," she said, her voice teasing.

Lewis's eyes widened, his grip on the champagne flute tightening for a brief second before he managed to compose himself.

"Your mother?" he repeated, his voice a mix of incredulity and amusement.

Y/N nodded, a wry smile playing on her lips. "Yes, my mother. She's quite the socialite, you know. She'll make sure the photos are absolutely perfect for the society pages."

Lewis's eyes searched hers, trying to discern if she was joking or if this was a genuine request. The thought of his stern, business-like father being a part of their staged nuptials was one thing, but the addition of her mother, a woman known for her sharp tongue and even sharper wit, was another matter entirely.

"Your mother, you say?" he repeated, his voice laced with a hint of apprehension. Y/N nodded, her smile unwavering, and took another sip of her champagne, her eyes never leaving his.

The bubbles danced on her tongue, a fizzy counterpart to the dance of emotions playing out before her.

Lewis's mind raced, trying to imagine the woman who had raised the enigmatic Y/N, who had agreed to this unorthodox union for the sake of his own ambition.

He could almost hear the whispers of her reputation, the tales of her social triumphs and the occasional scandal that had graced the pages of high society magazines.

"I see," he said finally, his tone measured. "And what does your mother think of… our arrangement?"

Y/N's laughter was like a chime of fine crystal, delicate and alluring. "Mother is quite thrilled," she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "She's always had a soft spot for a man who knows his worth and isn't afraid to show it."

Lewis couldn't help but feel a twinge of unease. Her mother's presence would add an unexpected dynamic to the already complex situation. But he knew better than to argue with a woman who could navigate the treacherous waters of high society with such ease.

"Very well," he conceded, his smile forced but genuine. "The more the merrier, I suppose."

The tension between them eased as they delved into their meals, the succulent flavors of their dishes a delightful distraction from the unspoken tension.

Roscoe, seemingly aware of the shift, settled at Lewis's feet, his snoring a gentle bass line to their conversation.

"Your mother is quite…known," Lewis said, choosing his words carefully. "What should I expect?"

Y/N's gaze grew distant as she thought of her mother. "Expect the unexpected," she replied with a knowing smile. "But she has a heart of gold beneath that tough exterior."

They ate in silence for a few moments, the weight of the unspoken contract hanging heavy in the air.

Finally, Y/N cleared her throat. “We should probably talk about…appearances. What’s the plan for things like…races?”

Lewis leaned back in his chair, pushing his plate away. "Right. Races. Well, the team and my management have a schedule in mind. They want us to be seen together at as many events as possible. It’s all about maximizing…visibility."

Y/N frowned slightly. “Visibility. Right. Well, my work is quite demanding, but I'll be able to attend at least 3 races at the start before my work starts again.”

Lewis seemed surprised. “Three? That’s…more than I expected, actually. Which races?”

“China, Japan, and Australia,” she replied. “I managed to clear my schedule for them. After that, it will be more difficult, but I can try to make a few here and there when I have more time.”

“Australia is a long way,” Lewis commented, more to himself than to her. “It’s a demanding circuit, and the jet lag is brutal.”

"I'm aware," Y/N said dryly. "I've traveled before."

He gave her a small, apologetic smile. “Of course. Sorry. It's just…it's a lot to ask you to be a part of this, especially knowing you have your own life and career.”

Y/N shrugged. "It is what it is. I agreed to it, didn't I?" she replied trying to stay formal.

Lewis nodded slowly. "Yes, you did. And I appreciate it. More than you know." He looked at her, really looked at her, for the first time that evening.

He saw a hint of apprehension in her eyes, but also a surprising strength. He wondered, fleetingly, what she really thought about all of this.

“So, Australia,” he continued, breaking the eye contact. “We’ll be traveling on different days, of course. Security and logistics are…complicated. But we’ll be staying at the same hotel. There will be a lot of press events, photo opportunities, things like that. My team will brief you on the details.”

Y/N resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Of course. I wouldn't want to deviate from the pre-approved narrative."

Lewis smirked, a genuine smile reaching his eyes for the first time. “You catch on quick. Look, I know this is all…surreal. And probably incredibly annoying. But I promise, I’ll try to make it as…bearable as possible. And I’ll try to be as respectful of your time and your life as I can.”

“I appreciate that, Lewis,” Y/N said, her voice softening slightly. “I’m not expecting this to be a fairytale, but I do expect us to treat each other with respect. We’re both professionals, and we should act like it.”

“Agreed,” Lewis replied, extending his hand across the table. "To professionalism."

Y/N hesitated for a moment before taking his hand. The contact was brief, but a faint spark seemed to pass between them.

It was nothing dramatic, just a subtle shift, a momentary acknowledgment of the strange and uncertain journey they were about to embark on together.

Lewis, observing Y/N stroking Roscoe, his bulldog, said, "So, what about dates?"

Y/N stopped mid-stroke, fixing him with a sharp glare. "Dates? Lewis, we're in a contractual agreement. This isn't real."

"What? I heard married couples still go on dates and we're going to be married soon," he retorted, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Y/N sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Fine. What are your hobbies so we can link them to it without making it too obvious that we're reading from a script?"

"Well, I like golfing, surfing, playing the piano…" he started, ticking them off on his fingers.

"Boring," Y/N teased, more out of habit than malice. Lewis didn't seem offended, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Okay, okay. What about you then? Give me something good to work with."

"Easy. Archery, animal riding, shooting…" she said casually, continuing to pet Roscoe.

"Shooting?" he repeated, thinking it was a joke. "Like…guns?"

"Yeah, shooting. I am one of the best shooters in my family," Y/N said matter-of-factly. Lewis looked genuinely shocked. "Guns? Really? You don't seem like a…gun person."

"Appearances can be deceiving," Y/N replied with a cryptic smile. "It's a family tradition. We've been competing in shooting competitions for generations. It's quite exhilarating, actually."

Lewis shook his head, seemingly trying to reconcile the image of the elegant, equestrian beauty with a crack shot. "Well, that's…unexpected. Maybe we could arrange a 'date' at a shooting range. Show the world a different side of you. Spice things up a bit."

Y/N considered this, a flicker of genuine interest in her eyes. “Perhaps. I haven’t been to the range in a while. I could certainly give you a lesson. Though I can’t promise you’ll be any good.”

Lewis laughed. "Challenge accepted. But you have to promise not to be too competitive. I'm a champion, you know."

"We'll see about that," Y/N said, a playful glint in her eyes.

The conversation drifted, covering details about their upcoming staged engagement party, the social media strategy, and the general rules of engagement (pun intended).

After an hour, they were both feeling the strain of the pretense. Roscoe, however, seemed to be thriving on the attention.

When they finally finished the catered lunch, Roscoe, true to form, woke up again, demanding belly rubs. It was time for Y/N to leave. Surprisingly, Lewis didn't want her to.

He found her sharp wit and unconventional hobbies intriguing.

"Do you need a ride home?" he asked, walking her to the grand entrance of the restaurant. The question felt surprisingly genuine, a departure from the carefully crafted facade.

"No, my friend is picking me up, thank you for the offer," she said.

They waited for a few minutes, a comfortable silence settling between them. The only sound was the gentle hum of the city in the distance. Then, a car pulled up and honked.

"That's her, I'll be going home now, bye Lewis," she said, her hand hovering for a moment before gently touching his arm.

The contact was brief, almost hesitant, but enough to send a strange flutter in his stomach. She then looked down, rubbing Roscoe's face, who was nestled in his arms. "Bye Roscoe, I'll see you soon,"

Then she walked down the opulent stairs, entered the waiting car, and with a final wave, she was gone, leaving Lewis standing alone in the doorway, Roscoe snoring softly in his arms.

That evening, Lewis found himself thinking about Y/N. He couldn’t deny she was interesting.

Far more interesting than the endless parade of socialites and models he usually surrounded himself with. . . .

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀

The roar of the Ferrari engine faded, replaced by a dull hum in Lewis' ears. He should have been focused on the intricacies of the new aerodynamic package the mechanics were painstakingly explaining.

Instead, his mind was a runaway train, careening toward a single, looming destination: Y/N.

He was getting 'married' to Y/N. For a year. The absurdity of it all still felt surreal, even after weeks of negotiations, contracts, and carefully crafted press releases. It was a business arrangement, pure and simple.

A calculated maneuver orchestrated by his management team to boost engagement, fan interaction, and ultimately, his brand. A fake marriage.

He hadn't even argued. His career was his everything. He'd poured his life, his soul, into racing. If this…stunt, this temporary charade, helped solidify his position, then he'd play the part.

But that didn’t stop the unsettling flutter in his stomach.

He only half-heard the mechanic's concluding remarks, a jumble of downforce percentages and drag coefficients. He mumbled a thank you, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips, and practically bolted from Maranello.

The image of Y/N in a wedding dress swam in his mind, a mirage both enticing and terrifying.

He gripped the steering wheel, pushing the car to its legal limit as he sped towards the Bridal Boutique. His own suit, a classic black tailored piece, was already sorted.

It had been his father’s, a detail that had felt strangely poignant amidst the manufactured romance.

Pulling up outside the boutique, he took a deep breath, trying to regulate his racing pulse. He stepped out of the car and headed inside, the tinkling of a bell announcing his arrival.

"Y/N's here," he announced to the receptionist, a woman with bright, friendly eyes. He felt a ridiculous need to justify his presence. "I'm…ah…Lewis Hamilton."

The receptionist's smile widened, a knowing glint in her eyes. "Ah, Mr. Hamilton! We've been expecting you. She's over there. You're a very lucky sir, she's very beautiful."

Lewis swallowed, feeling a lump form in his throat. He murmured a thank you and navigated through the maze of tulle and lace.

His gaze scanned the room, passing over blushing brides-to-be and their entourages, until he found her.

Y/N was standing on a raised platform, surrounded by fabric and mirrors. She was facing away from him, but even from this distance, he could see the curve of her neck, the way the light caught in her hair.

She was wearing a simple, elegant gown, ivory silk that cascaded to the floor.

The satin felt heavy against your skin, a stark contrast to the lightness you usually embraced. You stared at your reflection, a stranger in a sea of white lace and tulle. This wasn't you.

This wasn't the free-spirited, motorcycle-riding, target-shooting version of yourself that you carefully cultivated. This was… bridal.

And you were about to be a bride. For a year. To Lewis Hamilton, the racing prodigy whose reputation was as fast as his cars.

You swirled again, the dress billowing around you like a cloud. It was beautiful, objectively. Expensive, undoubtedly. But it felt like a costume, a character you were trying to embody but couldn't quite grasp.

Father would have loved it. Traditional, elegant, perfectly… safe. A sigh escaped your lips. Since when did you care about safe?

You had been trying on dresses for hours, each one more elaborate than the last. Each one failing to capture the essence of you. You knew Lewis was going to be late.

His team meetings always ran long, especially with the season going to be in full swing soon. He’d apologized profusely over the phone, his voice laced with a nervousness that mirrored your own.

You glanced at the clock on the wall. Still another hour to go. “Next!” you called out to the stylist, your voice echoing slightly in the opulent boutique.

You needed to get this over with before Lewis arrived. The thought of him seeing you in this parade of frills and lace sent a shiver down your spine.

Dress after dress, disappointment mounted. A mermaid gown that made you feel like you were suffocating. A ballgown that swallowed you whole. An A-line that was simply… boring. None of them felt right. None of them felt like you.

Standing before the mirror, you examined the latest contender – a strapless, heavily beaded monstrosity that sparkled under the chandelier light.

You looked like a disco ball. A very uncomfortable, very expensive disco ball.

“I can’t do this,” you muttered to yourself, the words barely audible. You had agreed to this arrangement – the fake marriage, the orchestrated photos, the carefully crafted narrative designed to boost Lewis’s public image.

You knew what you were signing up for. But seeing yourself in this getup, imagining walking down the aisle towards a man you barely knew, felt surreal.

He cleared his throat. "Y/N?"

You spun around, the heavy dress making the movement awkward. Lewis stood just inside the doorway, his shoulders filling the space.

The breath caught in his throat. The receptionist hadn't exaggerated. You were stunning. The dress, while beautiful, paled in comparison to your natural radiance. Your eyes, usually sparkling with playful mischief, were now tinged with a nervous apprehension that mirrored his own.

"Lewis," you said softly, your voice a low, melodic hum. "You made it."

He managed a weak smile. "Couldn't miss it. The… dress looks amazing on you."

"Thank you," you replied, your fingers nervously pleating the fabric. "Did… did you see your suit?"

"Yeah, it's… it's great. My father's. Which feels… I don't know, significant, somehow. Even though all of this..." He trailed off, gesturing awkwardly around the room.

"Is what it is," you finished for him, a hint of wry amusement in your voice. "A very public, very expensive, agreement."

The silence that followed hung heavy in the air, thick with unspoken anxieties and uncertainties. You both knew this wasn’t a real marriage.

It was a business transaction, a carefully calculated move to improve Lewis’s image and, let’s be honest, give your fledgling art career a boost. But standing here, in a bridal boutique, surrounded by the symbols of love and commitment, it felt… complicated.

"So," he said, trying to inject some levity into the situation, "are you ready to become Mrs. Hamilton for the next year?"

A small smile touched your lips. "As ready as I'll ever be. Just try not to crash the car on our wedding day, okay? Think of the engagement rates."

He chuckled, the sound easing some of the tension in his shoulders. "Wouldn’t dream of it. My driving is worth more than that." He paused, his gaze sweeping over you. "Is this the dress you're picking?"

You shook your head, the movement causing the beads to clatter softly. "I hate it. It doesn't represent me. It's… too much."

"Maybe your fiancé should pick one for you," one of your entourages said. You forgot they were even there. All this while they were sitting on the couch, probably bored out of their minds.

Lewis seemed surprised by the suggestion, but a playful glint appeared in his eyes. "Sure, I think I know your taste well." Before you could protest, he disappeared into the racks of dresses, a wide grin on his face.

"Don't pick something too girly!" you yelled after him, and you heard his laughter echo from behind a curtain.

You rolled your eyes and turned to your entourage, “I should have never let him do that.”

“But it’s too late now!”

Lewis emerged, holding a dress that was… surprisingly you. It was a sleek, ivory slip dress, with delicate lace detailing at the neckline and a subtle, almost imperceptible train. It was understated, elegant, and undeniably chic.

"Well?" he asked, holding it out. "Think this is more your style?"

You took the dress, running the silk through your fingers. "This is... perfect. How did you know?"

He shrugged, a self-deprecating smile on his face. "I've been paying attention. Besides, anything would be better than that monstrosity."

The fitting room suddenly felt smaller, the air thicker. You met his gaze, a silent acknowledgment passing between you. This was going to be a strange year, a year filled with pretense and performance.

But maybe, just maybe, there was a sliver of something real amidst the artifice.

"When I go change into this, why don't you go try on your father's suit?" you suggested, trying to break the unexpected tension.

Lewis's smile widened. "Good idea. I'll see you in a bit." He winked, and with that, he left the fitting room, leaving you alone with the dress and your increasingly complicated thoughts.

The ivory silk felt cool against your skin as you slipped the dress over your head. It fit perfectly, as if it had been made for you. You looked in the mirror, and for the first time since agreeing to this ridiculous scheme, you didn't feel like you were playing a part.

You felt… like yourself. Maybe, just maybe, this wouldn't be a complete disaster.

"Lewis? Are you there?" you asked hesitantly from behind the curtain.

"Yep, just waiting for my future wife to be revealed," he joked.

"Okay," you said shyly, feeling a blush creep up your neck.

You could hear the rustle of fabric and a muttered, "Alright, here we go." Then, with a dramatic flourish, the curtains were drawn open, revealing Lewis in a impeccably tailored suit.

It was classic, understated, and undeniably him. In his hands, he held a bouquet of bright yellow and blue flowers.

He stood there, momentarily speechless, his eyes fixed on you. The air crackled with an unspoken energy, a palpable tension that both thrilled and terrified you.

"Wow," he finally breathed, his voice a low rumble. "You look… incredible."

You felt your heart skip a beat. "You don't look too bad yourself."

He grinned, handing you the flowers. "Yellow and blue. They're your favorites, right?"

You took the bouquet, inhaling their sweet fragrance. "They are. Thank you."

"Right, we'll leave you alone to suck up the moment," the main entourage, Monica, announced, herding the rest of the entourage out of the room.

The door clicked shut, leaving you and Lewis alone in the opulent room. The weight of the situation settled heavily on your shoulders.

You walked towards the plush velvet sofa and sat down, the voluminous dress swallowing you whole.

"Where's Roscoe?" you asked, referring to Lewis’s beloved bulldog. "I miss him." You’d met Roscoe several times during the contract negotiations and found the wrinkly pup to be far more endearing than his owner, at least initially.

"So you miss my dog but not me, your future husband, your future love of your life, your…" Lewis teased, a playful glint in his eyes.

"Okay, okay, I get it," you said, slapping his arm lightly. "I missed you too." It wasn't entirely a lie. During the days of rehearsals and media training leading up to this day, you'd found yourself strangely comfortable around him.

He was surprisingly down-to-earth, considering his fame and fortune.

He chuckled, the sound easing some of the tension in his shoulders. "So… do you need help getting out of that dress? I'm sure you're dying to take it off."

You laughed, a genuine, bright sound that surprised him. "Actually, I was kind of enjoying it. Makes me feel like a real princess, even for a few hours."

"Well, you certainly look like one," he said, a genuine compliment escaping his lips.

"Alright, enough flirting," you said, trying to regain your composure. "We have a fake marriage to attend."

"Right," he said, suddenly remembering the logistics of the whole thing. "The venue, the vows, the… first dance."

"Don't worry," you said, your eyes twinkling. "I've taken care of most of it. The venue is a beautiful church outside of Florence. The vows are… well, let's just say they're carefully worded. And the first dance? I'm thinking something slow and romantic. What do you say?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Slow and romantic? You think you can handle it, Mrs. Hamilton?"

You grinned, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Try me, Mr. Hamilton."

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I think… I think I might just enjoy that."

The drive to the church felt surreal. You were seated next to Lewis in the back of a sleek, black car, the Tuscan countryside whizzing by in a blur of vineyards and olive groves. You expected awkward silence, maybe a stilted conversation about the weather. Instead, Lewis surprised you.

"So," he began, turning to you with a genuine smile, "tell me, what do you actually know about Formula 1? Besides the fact that I'm supposedly good at it?"

You chuckled. "More than you probably think. I've been following the sport since I was a kid. My dad's a huge fan, and he practically raised me on a diet of qualifying laps and race strategy."

His eyes lit up. "Really? Most of the 'celebrity' guests I meet at the races barely know the difference between a pit stop and a penalty. It's… refreshing to actually talk to someone who gets it."

He launched into a detailed explanation of the upcoming season, his passion evident in every word. He spoke about the new regulations, the aerodynamic changes, the challenges they were facing with the car's performance.

"We're struggling with the downforce," he explained, his brow furrowed in concentration. "The simulations are promising, but we're not seeing the same results on the track. We're working on adjusting the suspension and the rear wing design to try and find that extra bit of grip."

You listened intently, nodding occasionally, asking informed questions. "Have you considered tweaking the differential settings? Maybe a more aggressive locking strategy could help with traction out of the corners?"

Lewis stopped mid-sentence, staring at you in surprise. "That's… actually a really good point. I hadn't thought of that. I'll bring it up with the engineers. You have to come to the factory in Maranello so you can get to know the team before the season starts."

"I'd like that," you admitted, a genuine smile spreading across your face.

This wasn't the superficial celebrity encounter you'd anticipated. He was treating you like an equal, someone whose opinion he valued. It was… disarming.

As the car pulled up to the church, a mix of nervousness and anticipation fluttered in your stomach. You were about to 'marry' a Formula 1 legend, a man you had met, for the sake of boosting his public image. The absurdity of the situation hit you full force.

The church was even more breathtaking in person. Nestled amongst rolling hills, its ancient stone walls seemed to whisper stories of centuries past.

There were some photographers strategically positioned, discreetly snapping aesthetic pictures of the venue. They were there to sell the illusion, to capture the romance that wasn't truly there.

Lewis left the car first, extending a hand to help you out. "Ready?" he asked, his voice surprisingly gentle.

You took his hand, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver through you. You smiled and walked towards the entrance of the church, the sound of hushed chatter growing louder with each step. Your palms were sweating, and your heart hammered against your ribs. You were anxious. Terribly anxious.

Lewis squeezed your hand reassuringly. "It's gonna be great, wifey," he murmured, a playful glint in his eyes.

You nodded, trying to force a smile. "Just…don't call me that in public, okay?"

He chuckled. "Deal. And relax. Everyone here is in on it. It's just us, our friends and family."

The heavy wooden doors swung open, revealing a small gathering of people. You saw a mixture of familiar faces – yours and Lewis's close friends, the ones trusted enough to keep the secret – and family. All their faces were directed to you.

You and Lewis were immediately engulfed in hugs and pats on the back. Some of your friends were teary-eyed, overcome with emotion, while others offered proud congratulations. The scene was chaotic, overwhelming, and strangely…supportive.

"You look beautiful, darling," one of your friends gushed, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. "I'm so happy for you both!"

You managed a weak smile. "Thanks, Sarah. Don't cry, you'll ruin your makeup."

Finally, you spotted your mom across the room, engaged in conversation with Lewis's father. Your mother was already crying, naturally. She always cried at weddings, even the fake ones. Seeing her emotional state made your own eyes start to sting.

"Mom!" you called out, gently extricating yourself from the throng of well-wishers.

Your mother turned and rushed towards you, engulfing you in a tight hug. "My baby is getting married!" she sobbed, her voice thick with emotion. "I'm so happy for you, sweetheart. He seems like such a wonderful man."

You glanced over at Lewis, who was smiling warmly at your mother. He could charm the birds out of the trees, you thought.

"He is, Mom," you said, deciding to play along. "He's wonderful."

She pulled back, holding you at arm's length, and examined your face. "Are you happy, darling? Really happy?"

You hesitated for a moment, the question hitting you with unexpected force. Were you happy? You were about to embark on a year-long sham marriage with a man you barely knew. Logically, the answer should be no. But as you looked at Lewis, standing there patiently, a curious feeling began to stir within you. Maybe, just maybe, there was more to this arrangement than met the eye.

"Yes, Mom," you said, surprising yourself with the conviction in your voice. "I'm happy."

Your mother squeezed your hand. "That's all that matters. Now, go get married!" She beamed, wiping away a stray tear with the back of her hand.

Just then, Anthony Hamilton approached, his face etched with a nervous concern that mirrored my own. He fidgeted with his tie, avoiding direct eye contact.

"Y/N, dear," he began, his voice a low rumble. "Are you… are you sure you want me to do this?" He gestured vaguely towards the makeshift altar. "It’s not too late to back out, you know. Lewis… he can be a handful."

My heart went out to him. He was a good man, Anthony, despite the pressures of his son's demanding career. He probably felt as uncomfortable with this whole charade as I did.

"Of course, Mr. Hamilton," I answered, offering him my most reassuring smile. "I feel like it would be the best option for everyone." For Lewis's career, for my future, for my mother's peace of mind.

His eyes welled up, and he nodded slowly, his voice thick with emotion. "Alright, alright. But promise me you'll look after him, eh? He needs someone solid in his corner."

"I promise," I said, though I wasn't sure if I was promising him or myself.

"Alright! Everyone go to your positions now!" the videographer yelled, his voice cutting through the emotional tension like a rusty knife. The sound of hushed conversations and shuffling feet filled the room as everyone scrambled to their assigned seats along the aisle.

Anthony, after taking a deep breath, offered me his elbow. I placed my hand there, the silk of my dress cool against his suit. We walked behind the large oak doors that led into the ballroom, hiding from the expectant gaze of the crowd. I could feel my pulse throbbing in my ears.

Suddenly, the opening bars of "Canon in D" filled the room, a classic choice for a deeply un-classic situation.

"Ready?" Anthony asked, his voice barely a whisper.

I took a deep breath, forcing a calmness I didn't feel. "Ready."

The doors swung open, and I started to walk. Slowly. Deliberately. Each step was calculated, designed to capture the perfect angle for the cameras. The faces of the guests blurred into a sea of expectant smiles and glittering jewels.

She could see her mother beaming in the front row, her eyes brimming with tears. Y/N hoped they were tears of joy, not disappointment that her daughter was entering into such a transactional union.

At the end of the aisle, Lewis stood waiting, looking impossibly handsome in his custom-tailored suit. He caught my eye, and for a brief, fleeting moment, I saw something flicker in his gaze – a vulnerability, perhaps, or just a raw, naked ambition.

We reached the altar, and Anthony squeezed my hand before stepping aside.

"You look lovely, Y/N," Lewis murmured, his voice low and smooth.

"Thank you, Lewis," she replied, keeping her voice equally neutral. "You don't look so bad yourself."

The officiant, a jovial man who looked like he'd rather be anywhere else, cleared his throat.

"Dearly beloved," he began, his voice echoing through the hall, "we are gathered here in the presence of God, family, and friends to witness a joyous occasion—the union of Lewis Hamilton and Y/N L/N in holy matrimony."

The ceremony was a blur of rehearsed lines and forced smiles. They exchanged vows that felt hollow and meaningless. They slipped rings onto each other's fingers, the cold metal a stark reminder of the contractual nature of their relationship.

Then came the moment she had been dreading.

"You may now kiss the bride," the officiant intoned.

Lewis turned to her, his eyes searching hers for a moment. Then, he leaned in and kissed her. It was a chaste, professionally executed kiss, designed to elicit cheers from the crowd and likes on Instagram.

But even so, you felt a strange flutter in her stomach, a sensation she quickly dismissed as the product of nerves and exhaustion.

It was all a blur from then on. Walking down the aisle with Lewis in hand, waving at the guests, mostly family and friends, throwing confetti over our heads.

The whirlwind of congratulations, the endless photos, the forced smiles that were starting to ache my cheeks.

Then, suddenly, we were in a room by ourselves, apparently, it's tradition for newly weds to stay in the same room right after the ceremony to soak up the moment.

The honeymoon suite was extravagant, all plush velvet and panoramic views. It felt absurd to be here, pretending, with 24-hour security just outside the door to ensure the “integrity” of our little charade.

My friends, bless their hearts, had noticed my tense demeanor and, with a knowing wink, had slipped two glasses of wine into my hands. "Relax a little, Y/N," Maya had whispered, "You look like you're about to explode."

I took a tentative sip. The wine was crisp and refreshing, a welcome distraction from the buzzing in my head. I was a lightweight, a fact I had conveniently neglected to mention to Lewis. He stood awkwardly by the panoramic window, his perfectly tailored suit looking even more impeccable against the velvet drapes.

He turned, his expression hesitant. "That kiss was... nice," he said, almost as an afterthought.

I raised an eyebrow, taking another sip of my wine. "Well, I'm happy you enjoyed it because that's all you're getting from me today," I said, leaning back against a ridiculously ornate chaise lounge.

He frowned slightly. "We do have to kiss more during the first dance and the reception party."

The wine had officially loosened my inhibitions. A mischievous glint sparked in my eye. I found myself leaning forward, a dangerous smile playing on my lips. "Is that an order, Mr. Hamilton?"

He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously. "It's…a suggestion. A highly recommended suggestion."

I burst out laughing, the sound bouncing off the high ceilings. He looked even more uncomfortable. "Alright, alright. A suggestion it is. But tell me, Lewis," I drawled, tilting my head, "how passionate are we talking? A quick peck for the cameras? A lingering lip-lock for the tabloids? Or perhaps a full-blown, movie-style makeout session to send your fans into a frenzy?"

He gaped at me, his usually composed facade cracking. "Y/N, are you…teasing me?"

"Maybe," I said, grinning. "Consider it a rehearsal. For the sake of public perception, of course. We have to be convincing, right? This isn't just about boosting your engagement numbers; it's about protecting your reputation."

He took a deep breath, visibly steeling himself. "Fine. Let's…rehearse." He approached me cautiously, like he was approaching a wild animal, his eyes locked on mine. "Just…remember it's all for show. This is purely professional."

"Of course," I whispered, the wine singing in my veins. "All for show. Completely professional." My heart, however, seemed to have missed the memo. It was thumping against my ribs like a trapped bird.

He placed his hands on my waist, his touch surprisingly gentle. He leaned in, his breath warm against my cheek, and I suddenly found myself struggling to remember my lines. "Ready?"

My voice caught in my throat. I managed a shaky nod, my heart suddenly pounding a rhythm that had nothing to do with wine and pretense. As his lips met mine, a strange sensation washed over me. 

 He hesitated, giving you a moment to back out, but you didn't. Instead, you raised a hand and rested it on the back of his neck, your fingers threading slightly into his short, dark hair.

It started slowly. A tentative brush of lips, a polite greeting. He tasted of mint and something else, something subtly powerful and undeniably Lewis. He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours. "Is this… believable?"

"Believable enough to fool millions?" you countered, your voice a husky whisper. "Probably not. Try again. Think longing, think desperation, think… you're about to lose the most important thing in your life."

Lewis frowned. "That's a bit dramatic, even for this."

"Welcome to acting, darling," you said, your smile widening. "Now, try again."

This time, he didn't hesitate. He leaned in, his lips claiming yours with a possessiveness that sent a shiver down your spine. This wasn't the gentle, chaste kiss from before. This was raw, demanding, and surprisingly… good.

Your eyes fluttered closed, and you found yourself responding without conscious thought. Your fingers tightened their grip on his neck, pulling him closer.

The kiss deepened, tongues dancing, breath mingling. It was a whirlwind of sensation, a delicious chaos that blurred the line between rehearsal and reality.

For a fleeting moment, you forgot this was all a performance, that you were just pawns in a PR game. You were just two people, caught in the heat of a kiss that felt anything but fake.

He finally broke away, his chest heaving, his eyes dark and intense. "Okay," he said, his voice raspy. "That… that was better."

You were still trying to catch your breath. "Better indeed," you managed to say, your voice slightly breathless. "But was it believable? Or just…intense?"

Lewis looked away, running a hand through his braids. "It was…both. Maybe too intense."

"Too intense for a fake marriage?" you challenged, raising an eyebrow.

Before he could answer, I noticed the smear of red on his chin. "Oh, you've got my lipstick all over your mouth," I said, a mischievous glint in my eyes.

Before Lewis could touch his face, I held his hand, preventing him. "Leave it there, at least that will convince people that we were kissing," I said, letting go of him.

He stared at me, a mixture of surprise and something else I couldn't quite decipher flickering in his eyes. "You're… surprisingly good at this," he said, a hint of admiration in his voice.

"That's my job," I replied, a smile playing on my lips. "But you're a quick learner, Lewis. I'll give you that."

The large hall was bedecked in a symphony of white roses and crystal chandeliers that cast a soft glow across the polished floor. The moment you and Lewis stepped in, the buzz of conversation hushed and all eyes turned to you.

The crowd erupted in applause, a wave of congratulations that made you blush despite the artifice of it all.

You took Lewis's offered arm, his grip firm and surprisingly comforting, as you both glided towards your sweetheart table at the center of the room.

The scent of his cologne mingled with the floral bouquets scattered around, creating a heady aroma that was at odds with the butterflies doing somersaults in your stomach.

Your hearts beat in sync with each step, echoing the rhythmic thump of the bass from the live band playing in the corner. The dress you wore was a vision of elegance, a stark contrast to the nervous energy thrumming through your body.

You felt like a moth drawn to a flame as you approached the table, the spotlights seemingly highlighting every imperfection, every lie. Yet, as you sat down, the plush chair enveloping you in a gentle embrace, the weight of the moment lifted slightly. You exhaled and offered him a tentative smile.

"Well, we've made it this far," you murmured under the guise of the applause.

"Barely," he quipped, a playful glint in his eye.

As the applause died down, a server appeared, filling your glasses with champagne. The cool liquid was a welcome relief against the dryness of your mouth.

You took a sip, feeling the bubbles tickle your nose. The room was alive with the sound of laughter and clinking glasses, a cacophony of happiness that seemed almost surreal.

"To us," Lewis said, raising his glass. His smile was perfect, a masterpiece of diplomacy. You mirrored the gesture.

You clinked glasses, the sound resonating in your ears like a toll of fate. "To the most convenient marriage of the year," you toasted, trying to keep your voice steady.

The liquid slid down your throat, a potent symbol of the agreement you'd made. You felt the warmth spread through your body, loosening the tension slightly.

The dress, a creation of satin and lace, whispered against your skin with every movement, a silent reminder of the part you had to play.

As the applause faded into the background, the first course of the meal was served. The table was an opulent display of gourmet delights, each dish more tempting than the last.

Lewis picked up a piece of hors d'oeuvre, a dollop of caviar perched atop a tiny cracker, and held it out to your lips.

"Open for me," he said, his voice low and playful.

You parted your lips and allowed him to feed you, the salty fish roe bursting on your tongue. The sensation was oddly intimate, and you watched his eyes darken as he observed your reaction.

The taste was decadent, a delightful assault on your senses that made you want to moan. You chewed slowly, savoring the richness.

You returned the favor, plucking a strawberry from the fruit platter with your fingers and bringing it to his mouth.

The fruit was ripe, the juice staining your fingertips and leaving a sweet trail across your skin. He took the berry with a smoldering look that sent a bolt of heat through your core.

You picked up a piece of chocolate-covered fruits, the dark chocolate shimmering with edible gold dust. You held it to his mouth, watching as he took it with a bite, the gold leaving a glittering trail on his bottom lip.

Leaning in, your heart racing, you couldn't help yourself. You licked the remnants of sweet chocolate from his lips, the taste a tantalizing mix of the rich confection and the salt of his mouth.

You blamed it on the alcohol, the way it loosened your inhibitions and made everything feel more daring, more alive. His eyes searched yours for a moment, and you realized with a start that he wasn't objecting.

The room spun slightly as you felt his hand come to rest on the small of your back, his thumb tracing lazy circles against the bare skin exposed by your dress.

"You're doing great," he whispered in your ear, his breath hot against your neck.

You leaned into his touch, the warmth of his hand spreading like a brand across your skin. The champagne had done its work, the tension giving way to a pleasant buzz that made everything feel a little less forced.

You turned to face him, your eyes locking for a moment that seemed to stretch into eternity.

"Thank you," you murmured, your voice a soft purr that seemed to resonate through the room.

His gaze dropped to your lips, and for a heart-stopping second, you thought he might kiss you.

But instead, he leaned back, his expression unreadable.

The band struck up a tune, the sound of instruments swirling around you like a warm embrace. You felt a sudden pressure to perform, to be the bride everyone expected you to be.

Maya bustled over to your table. "Can you guys cut the cake now, or do you need more time for yourselves?" she teased, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

The question was like a splash of cold water, reminding you of the façade you were maintaining. You laughed, a little too loudly, and nodded.

"We're ready," you said, standing up. Lewis's hand was at your elbow, guiding you through the crowd towards the grand, multi-tiered cake.

The cake was a masterpiece, a cascade of white fondant adorned with intricate lace detailing and delicate sugar roses.

You felt a strange sense of detachment as you both took the knife, your hands shaking slightly.

As you made the first slice, the sound of cameras clicking filled the air. The flashes were like stars in a night sky, blinding you to everything else.

But all you could see was Lewis's profile, the tension in his jaw, the way his hand held the knife with surprising tenderness.

He took a piece of cake and offered it to you, a silent question in his eyes. You took it, feeling the soft cake crumble against your teeth.

The sweetness was overwhelming, a metaphor for the situation you found yourself in.

You took a deep breath, willing yourself to be the poised and elegant wife Ferrari required.

The spotlight was on you, but it was the pressure of his hand against your back that kept you from crumbling like the dessert in your mouth.

"Move closer," you whispered, holding out a dainty slice of the heavenly cake to him. The scent of vanilla and buttercream filled the air as you brought it closer to his lips.

The moment was charged with a current that made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.

With a gentle nudge, you coaxed him to open his mouth. His full lips parted slightly, and you placed the cake on his tongue.

His eyes never left yours as you traced the outline of his mouth with your fingertips, catching the crumbs that clung to his perfect smile. The warmth of his breath danced across your fingertips, sending a shiver down your spine.

You watched as he closed his eyes, savoring the flavor. His Adam's apple bobbed with each swallow, and you felt a sudden urge to trace the path the cake took down his throat with your own mouth.

As the music grew louder and the flashes grew more insistent, Lewis leaned in, his breath warm against your ear.

"Dance with me?" His voice was a velvety rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. You nodded, and he took your hand, leading you to the dance floor.

The lights dimmed, casting the room in a romantic glow. A slow song began to play, a classic ballad about love and commitment. Ironic, you thought, given the circumstances.

Lewis placed his hand on your waist, and you reluctantly put yours on his shoulder. The fabric of his bespoke suit felt smooth beneath your fingers.

He pulled you closer, and you could feel the heat radiating from his body. You avoided looking at him, focusing instead on the swirling patterns of the projected lights on the ceiling.

"Relax," he murmured, his breath tickling your ear. "It's just a dance."

But it wasn't just a dance. It was a performance, a charade, a carefully constructed illusion. Every step, every sway, every glance had to be perfect, believable.

You caught the eye of someone, notebook in hand, eagerly observing your every move. You forced a smile, hoping it looked genuine.

As the song continued, you found yourself slowly starting to relax. Lewis was a surprisingly graceful dancer, guiding you effortlessly across the floor.

The rhythm of the music, the warmth of his body, the soft lighting – it was all strangely seductive.

"You look beautiful," he said softly, his voice barely audible above the music.

You finally met his gaze, and you were surprised to see genuine warmth in his eyes. Was it possible? Could there be something more to this arrangement than just business?

"Thank you," you whispered, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks.

He smiled, a genuine, unguarded smile that transformed his face. "You know, this isn't so bad."

"What isn't?" you asked, confused.

"This. Us. Pretending to be in love," he said, his eyes twinkling. "We're pretty good at it, don't you think?"

You laughed. "We are, aren't we?"

As the song ended, he leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above yours.

"You know what would make this even more believable?" he whispered.

Your heart skipped a beat. "What?"

"If we kissed," he murmured, the words sending a shiver down your spine.

You looked up at him, your pulse racing. The idea was ludicrous, of course. This was a marriage of convenience, a contractual agreement to help him secure his engagement at Ferrari.

Yet, as his eyes searched yours, you found yourself leaning into the moment, curious about the sensation of his lips on yours.

The music swelled around you as his hand slid from your waist to the small of your back, pulling you closer. His other hand cupped your cheek, the pad of his thumb brushing lightly across your skin.

You felt the electricity crackle in the air between you, and without another word, he closed the gap, pressing his mouth to yours.

His kiss was gentle at first, exploratory, as if he too was surprised by his own actions.

But the alcohol was really hitting the both of you, and with it, your inhibitions began to melt away like candle wax in the heat of desire.

Your arms slid around his neck, pulling him closer, your body responding instinctively to his touch.

Lewis's hand slipped down from your waist to the curve of your hip, his thumb tracing lazy circles through the fabric of your dress.

You held back, though, coming back to your senses. This wasn't what you had signed up for. You were supposed to be his beard, not his lover.

You stiffened in his arms, and he must have felt the shift in your demeanor because his hand stilled.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice low and thick with a hint of regret. "I didn't mean to cross a line."

You took a deep breath, your chest rising and falling against his firm embrace. "It's okay," you managed, even though your body was screaming for more. "We just need to remember what this is."

He nodded, his eyes searching yours for reassurance. "Right," he murmured, his grip loosening slightly. "A marriage of convenience."

The music had changed to something faster, a pounding bass that seemed to echo the beating of your heart. You stepped back, trying to compose yourself and smiled for the cameras.

"We should focus on the wedding," you said, your voice shakier than you would have liked.

Lewis's hand remained at your waist, his thumb continuing to stroke your skin in a gentle, hypnotic rhythm. "Are you okay?" he asked, concern etched into his features.

You took another deep breath, willing your racing pulse to slow. "I'm fine," you lied, plastering a smile back onto your face. "We're just playing our parts, right?"

He nodded, his eyes lingering on your mouth. "Right."

The music changed again, the tempo quickening. The DJ announced that it was time for everyone to join in, and the floor flooded with guests eager to dance. The pressure of the moment was lifted as the spotlight shifted away from the two of you.

The crowd grew thick around you, a sea of bodies moving in a harmonious wave of color and sound. Lewis's hand remained at the small of your back, his fingers splayed possessively.

You felt a thrill of excitement as you realized that in this chaos, you could be anyone, do anything, and no one would question it.

And then, through the kaleidoscope of faces, you saw her. Your mother, standing at the edge of the dance floor, watching you with a knowing smile.

She had always had a knack for reading your expressions, and even from this distance, you could feel her approval. It was as if she knew the secret desires that had blossomed in the warmth of Lewis's embrace.

Her eyes sparkled with a mischief that told you she wasn't fooled by the pretense of your union.

You felt a sudden rush of heat, remembering the way Lewis's kiss had made your knees weak. You hoped she hadn't seen that.

"I'm going to talk to my mother," you murmured into Lewis's ear, your voice low and urgent.

He nodded, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before you slipped away from the dance floor and made your way through the throngs of partygoers.

Your mother's smile grew wider as you approached, her eyes twinkling with the same mischief that had always made you feel both cherished and exposed.

She knew you so well, and as you reached her side, you were acutely aware of the rapid beat of your heart, the warmth still lingering on your cheeks from Lewis's kiss.

"Having fun?" she asked, her voice a sweet symphony of teasing and concern.

"Mother, let's talk outside," you suggested, gesturing to the balcony, desperately needing a moment of respite from the pounding rhythms and probing gazes.

Her smile never wavered as she nodded in agreement, placing a hand on your forearm. "Lead the way, dear," she said, the warmth of her touch grounding you amidst the whirlwind of emotions.

The cool night air hit you like a breath of fresh oxygen as you stepped out onto the balcony, the sound of laughter and music muffled by the thick double doors.

The moon cast a silvery glow over the cityscape, painting the buildings in a soft, ethereal light. The distant sounds of traffic were a faint reminder of the world beyond the bubble of the penthouse suite where your lives had suddenly become a performance for the paparazzi.

Your mother looked stunning in a midnight-blue gown that accentuated her figure, her eyes dancing with curiosity. She took a sip of her champagne, her gaze never leaving you.

"What's on your mind, darling?" she asked, her voice a gentle coo that could melt the coldest of hearts.

You leaned against the balcony railing, the cool metal a stark contrast to the heat still pulsing through your veins from Lewis's kiss.

"I just needed a break," you replied, hoping she wouldn't push further. The night air kissed your skin, sending goosebumps along your arms.

Your mother's eyes searched yours, a knowing glint shimmering in her gaze. "You seem…flustered," she said, her tone light but her words carrying the weight of a thousand unasked questions.

You took a deep breath, the cool air filling your lungs and calming your racing thoughts. "It's just…Lewis," you began, struggling to find the words.

"What about your fake husband?" your mother said, her voice dripping with playful accusation. She had always been perceptive, and she knew you better than anyone.

You felt a blush creeping up your neck, and you took a sip of the cool, bubbly champagne to buy yourself some time. "What do you mean?" you asked, feigning innocence.

Your mother raised an eyebrow, the gesture so familiar it was as if you were a teenager caught sneaking in past curfew. "I saw the way he was looking at you during the first dance," she said, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. "And the way you two were just…dancing."

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the pulsing heat between your legs, the phantom feeling of Lewis's hand on your hip. "It's all for the cameras," you protested, even though the words felt hollow.

Your mother's smile grew knowing, and she leaned closer, her perfume a faint whisper of gardenias in the night air. "Is that all it is?" she murmured, her eyes twinkling with the same mischief that had always made you squirm. "Or is there something more going on between you two?"

You took another deep breath, the coolness of the air doing little to ease the heat pooling in your belly. "Mother," you began, feeling the weight of her gaze on you, "I've only known him for less than a month."

Her smile softened, the playful glint in her eyes fading to a look of understanding. She leaned closer, her voice a warm, comforting whisper. "Sometimes, love doesn't care about time, darling. It just happens."

You stared out into the night, the city lights blurring as you replayed the last few minutes in your mind. The feel of his lips on yours, the gentle caress of his hands, the way your body had responded so instinctively.

Was it possible to develop feelings so quickly, so intensely, when the foundation of your relationship was nothing but a business deal?

The question lingered in the air as you watched Lewis mingle with the other guests, his charisma lighting up the room. His laugh was infectious, his smile captivating, and the way he moved through the space was like watching a panther – sleek, powerful, and utterly in control.

You took another sip of champagne, the bubbles fizzing against your tongue as you contemplated your mother's words. Love? In a marriage of convenience? The very notion seemed absurd, and yet, you couldn't deny the undeniable pull you felt towards him.

The way your body had responded to his touch, the way your heart had skipped a beat when he looked at you – it was all too real, too potent to dismiss as mere infatuation.

"Just remember what you said three weeks ago, that 'it's all just for show. And it's not like you're actually going to be doing the whole marriage thing, that you're just going to pretend.'"

Her voice, usually a soothing balm, was sharp with an undercurrent of something you couldn’t quite place. "Don't break your own promise, but I wouldn't mind it. Lewis will take good care of you."

Her words hit you like a ton of bricks. Was she…encouraging you? But before you could respond, she had already turned away, leaving you alone with the night's whispers and the tumultuous dance of your thoughts.

You took another sip of champagne, the bubbles fizzling down your throat, and tried to convince yourself that it was just the alcohol playing tricks on you.

But deep down, you knew it was more than that.

Sighing, you set the champagne flute down on the railing and smoothed your hair back, trying to regain your composure. The chilly breeze whispered across your skin, sending a shiver down your spine that had nothing to do with the temperature.

With one last deep breath, you pushed away from the balcony and turned to face the warm embrace of the party once more.

As you stepped back into the penthouse suite, the heat and the music enveloped you like a lover's arms. The lights danced over the guests' faces, casting a spell of excitement and anticipation.

The DJ announced that it was time for the welcome toasts, and a hush fell over the room. You searched the crowd for Lewis, your heart skipping a beat when your eyes met his across the sea of bodies.

He offered you a smile, his own eyes a storm of emotions that mirrored your own.

Making your way to the makeshift stage, you took your place beside him. The spotlight was hot on your face, and you could feel the eyes of the guests on you, eagerly waiting for you to speak.

Lewis took your hand in his, the warmth of his touch sending a jolt of electricity up your arm.

You cleared your throat, the words of your toast already written but feeling so insignificant now. "Thank you all for joining us tonight," you began, your voice steady despite the tumult in your chest. "This is a very special occasion."

Lewis squeezed your hand, his thumb stroking the back of your palm in a silent message of support.

You glanced at him, his eyes locked onto yours, and felt a jolt of something primal, something that had nothing to do with the contract you'd signed.

"We're here to celebrate the beginning of a new chapter in our lives," you said, your eyes never leaving his. "One filled with adventure, success, and," you paused, feeling the weight of his gaze, "passion."

The room erupted in cheers and applause, and Lewis stepped up to the microphone, his hand still wrapped around yours. "Thank you," he said, his voice a rich baritone that seemed to resonate in the very air around you.

"To my beautiful wife," he turned to you, a smoldering look in his eyes that sent a delicious shiver down your spine, "Thank you for agreeing to this crazy adventure."

You leaned into the microphone, the warmth of his body against yours a potent cocktail of desire and nerves. "And to my dashing husband," you said, your voice a purr, "Thank you for making this marriage of convenience feel like anything but."

The crowd gasped, and a smattering of laughter filled the room, but you didn't care. You knew you were playing with fire, but the heat was too tempting to resist.

As you finished your toast, Lewis leaned down and whispered, "You're going to pay for that later." The words sent a shiver of anticipation through you, and you couldn't help but smile.

You took your cue, your voice steady despite the tumult of emotions raging inside you. "To our friends, our families, and Ferrari," you said, raising your glass, "Thank you for bringing us together."

The room erupted in cheers and applause, and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction at the success of your ruse.

But as you watched Lewis, the way his eyes sparkled with mischief, you knew that this marriage of convenience was about to take a very inconvenient turn.

"Now, it's time for the parent dances," the DJ announced, breaking the spell of the moment. You felt a knot in your stomach. You had lost your father years ago, and having your mother dance with Lewis was the closest thing you'd ever get to a traditional wedding dance with a parent.

"Mrs. L/N," Lewis said, extending his hand towards your mother with a charming smile. "May I have the honor of this dance?"

Her eyes sparkled with delight as she took his hand, the same hand that had sent shockwaves through your body just moments before. "Why, Mr. Hamilton, I'd be thrilled," she replied, allowing him to lead her onto the dance floor.

You watched as they swayed to the music, the connection between them palpable. The sight was bittersweet – a reminder of what you had lost and what you never had.

But as you observed them, the tension in your chest began to ease. If Lewis had to dance with someone, you were happy it was your mother.

She deserved this moment of joy and glamour, even if it was all an act.

As the song came to a close, Lewis guided your mother back to her seat and returned to you, his eyes never leaving yours. "Your turn," he murmured, extending his hand.

You nodded, trying to ignore the butterflies that had taken up residence in your stomach. This was your job, to make this marriage look believable, and part of that meant playing the role of a loving wife to a tee.

As the music changed to a slower tempo, Lewis' father, Anthony, made his way over to you, his smile warm and welcoming. He took your hand in his, his grip firm but gentle, and led you onto the dance floor.

"Thank you for being here, my dear," he said, pulling you closer into his embrace. You could feel the strength in his arms, a stark contrast to the softness of his voice.

His cologne, a rich blend of leather and sandalwood, wrapped around you, a comforting scent that reminded you of the safety and protection a father's arms could offer.

"The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Hamilton," you replied, your voice a soft whisper against his chest. You felt a strange comfort in his arms, a sense of belonging that you hadn't felt since your own father had passed away.

The music washed over you, a gentle symphony that seemed to be composed just for the two of you. You moved in sync with him, his steps guiding yours with a grace that could only come from years of experience.

His hand rested at the small of your back, the heat from his palm seeping through the fabric of your dress and setting your skin alight.

You looked up at him, his eyes crinkling with kindness. "You know, you're quite the catch," he said, his voice a gentle rumble. "My son is a very lucky man."

You blushed, your heart fluttering at the compliment. "Thank you," you murmured, your voice barely audible over the music. "Lewis is… quite the catch himself."

Anthony chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Yes, he is," he agreed. "But I can see the way he looks at you. There's more to this than just a business deal."

You swallowed hard, unsure of how to respond. The truth was, you didn't know what was happening between you and Lewis. It was like you had stumbled into a fairy tale, except the prince was a billionaire race car driver, and the marriage was as fake as the smile you painted on every day.

"You don't have to tell me," he said, as if sensing your discomfort. "But just remember, love has a way of sneaking up on you when you least expect it."

His words hung in the air, and you felt a sudden tightness in your chest. Was that what this was? Love? The very thought was terrifying, and yet, as you watched Lewis across the room, his eyes never leaving yours, you couldn't help but wonder if there was some truth to it.

The dance ended all too soon, and you found yourself back in the swirl of the party, the music and laughter a cacophony around you. You searched the room for Lewis, needing to be near him, to feel the reassurance of his presence.

Then, you heard a mic being tapped, and the volume of the room dropped like a curtain. You looked at the stage to see Maya and Miles with grins on their faces that could only mean one thing – they were about to give their speeches.

Your heart skipped a beat. You knew Maya all too well; she was the kind of friend who had a knack for speaking her mind, especially when it came to juicy secrets.

Miles took the mic first, his voice smooth and charming. "Ladies and gentlemen," he began, "I'd like to start by saying how honored I am to be standing here today, witnessing the union of two of the most amazing people I know."

"Now," he continued, "I know we're all here to celebrate the love between Lewis and his beautiful bride," he said, pausing for effect. "But what I'd like to remind everyone is that this isn't just a marriage – it's a partnership that's going to be taking the racing world by storm. And speaking of storms, I've got a little something for you two,"

Maya strutted up to the podium, the mic in one hand and a glint in her eye that had you on the edge of your seat. She tapped it, the sound echoing through the room, and announced,

"Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to share a little story about how our dashing couple met. It's not your average love at first sight tale, oh no."

You felt your face heat up as the room grew quieter, all eyes on Maya. Lewis's hand tightened around yours, his thumb stroking your knuckles in a silent message of reassurance. You could see the curiosity in his eyes, a hint of amusement playing on his lips.

Maya began, "Picture this: Two strangers, thrown together by fate, or should I say, by Ferrari. A billionaire playboy, and a girl with a heart of gold. They say opposites attract, but in this case, it was more like a collision of epic proportions!"

The audience chuckled, and you couldn't help but feel a mix of dread and excitement. You knew Maya had a wild imagination, and she wasn't one to shy away from spicing things up.

"They say love is a wild ride," she continued, her voice taking on a dramatic tone. "But let me tell you, when these two hit the track, it was nothing short of explosive! The chemistry was palpable, the tension could have fueled a race car!"

Your heart raced as she painted a vivid picture of your whirlwind romance, embellishing every detail and adding a steamy twist here and there. You shot her a glare, but she only winked back, reveling in the moment.

Miles took over, his deep voice a stark contrast to Maya's. "But what you don't know," he said, leaning into the mic, "is that there was a secret deal made, a deal that would change the course of their lives forever. A marriage of convenience, you say? Pish-posh!"

The crowd leaned in, eager to hear the juicy details. You held your breath, waiting for the inevitable revelation of your arrangement with Lewis. But instead, Miles spun a tale of a daring bet between the two friends, one that had led to a year of adventure and discovery.

"They said they'd keep it professional," Miles said with a wink. "But when love enters the race, all bets are off!"

You felt a strange mix of relief and disappointment. It wasn't the truth, but it was close enough to keep the secret intact. The crowd roared with laughter, and you couldn't help but laugh along, the tension in the room dissipating like mist on a warm morning.

As the applause died down, you leaned into Lewis, whispering, "Your friend is something else."

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "He does have a way of keeping things interesting," he murmured, pulling you closer.

The rest of the reception was a blur of laughter, dancing, and whispered secrets. The speeches had been a wild ride, but somehow, you found yourself enjoying the thrill of it all.

The way Lewis looked at you, the way his hand never left your side – it was as if you had stumbled into a love story after all.

As the night went on, you were able to relax, a glass of champagne in hand, chatting with your friends who had flown in for the occasion. They were all buzzing with excitement, eager to hear every detail of your whirlwind romance with the infamous Lewis Hamilton.

You felt a thrill run down your spine every time they talked about your "true love," knowing that it was all just a well-orchestrated facade. But the way he made you feel, the way he looked at you – it was easy to get lost in the fantasy.

You took a sip of the bubbly liquid, the coolness of it spreading through your body like a gentle caress. The alcohol did its work, loosening your inhibitions and making you feel light, like you were floating on air.

The room was warm, a cozy cocoon of friendship and goodwill that enveloped you, making the weight of your deception feel a little less heavy.

Your friend Laura leaned in, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "So, what's it really like being married to a superstar?" she asked, her voice low and conspiratorial. You giggled, feeling a little tipsy and more than a little bit naughty.

"Well, it's not all fast cars and glamour," you said, your voice a purr. "But the perks aren't too shabby." You shared a knowing look with her, and she squealed, her hand flying to her mouth. You had always had a flair for the dramatic, and tonight was no exception.

As you talked, the room grew hazier, the air thick with the scent of expensive perfumes and cologne mingling with the aroma of fine wine and rich food.

The music was a sensual backdrop, the rhythm pulsing through the floorboards, inviting you to move. You felt the warmth of Lewis's hand on the small of your back as he joined your circle of friends, his presence a comforting warmth that seemed to drive the chill of doubt away.

"Let's dance," he whispered in your ear, his breath sending a shiver down your spine. You nodded, placing your hand in his, and allowed him to lead you into the throng of bodies, each swaying to the seductive rhythm.

His hand slid to your waist, his fingers ghosting over the smooth fabric of your dress, and you felt a thrill at the possessive way he held you, his other hand cradling yours.

The music was a slow, sultry number that seemed to resonate within the very core of your being. His thigh brushed against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through you.

His touch was like a brand, leaving a trail of heat wherever it went. You looked into his eyes, and for a moment, you forgot about the cameras, the guests, the lie. It was just the two of you, lost in a dance that felt all too real.

The conversation with your friends was lively, their questions about married life to the legendary Lewis Hamilton met with your playful evasions and coy smiles. The champagne bubbled in your veins, making you feel more daring, more alive.

You caught Laura's eye, and she winked, a knowing smile playing on her lips. The tension between you and Lewis was palpable, a secret only the two of you shared, and it was intoxicating.

Suddenly, the music shifted to something softer, a classic love song that seemed to beckon for a more intimate moment.

You felt Lewis's hand tighten around your waist, pulling you closer, your bodies fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle you never knew you were meant to complete.

His breath was hot against your neck, sending shivers down your spine as he whispered, "Let's take the family picture."

You nodded, allowing him to lead you off the dance floor and towards the small area designated for family photos. Your mother sat watching, her eyes filled with a warmth that seemed to say she knew more than she was letting on.

She patted the seat beside her, and you sat down, feeling a sudden vulnerability that the alcohol hadn't quite prepared you for.

Lewis's father, Anthony, took a seat. The sight was surreal, a makeshift family portrait that was as beautiful as it was unexpected. The photographer, a friend of the Hamiltons, approached with a professional smile. "Ready?" he asked, holding up the camera.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the erratic beating of your heart. Lewis sat beside you, his hand reaching for yours, and you felt a rush of affection that was as surprising as it was overwhelming.

The camera clicked, capturing the four of you in a moment of forced intimacy that somehow felt more genuine than you had anticipated.

The flash illuminated the room, freezing the scene in time – a snapshot of a life that wasn't quite real, but felt more right than anything you had ever known.

The picture was taken, and the moment passed, but the warmth lingered. You couldn't help but look at the image displayed on the camera's screen – the four of you, a small but significant representation of what could have been.

Your mother's smile was wide, her eyes sparkling with happiness, and you realized that maybe this wasn't just about the Ferrari deal. Maybe, just maybe, it was about creating a new kind of family, one born from necessity but blossoming into something more.

The photographer handed the camera to Lewis, who studied the picture with a thoughtful expression. "It's perfect," he murmured, his thumb brushing over the image of your joined hands.

"Yes," your mother agreed, her voice thick with emotion. "It's like looking at a real family."

The words hung in the air, and you felt a sudden tightness in your throat. This was supposed to be just a year of pretending, but the lines between reality and the role you were playing were beginning to blur.

As you looked into the camera lens, you realized that the love in your eyes for Lewis was no longer just an act.

It was a tangible thing, a living, breathing entity that had snuck into your heart without you even noticing. . . .

His eyes scanned the room, finally settling on her. Y/N. Even her name felt foreign on his tongue. She was surrounded by her friends, a vibrant group of women who punctuated her words with laughter. He watched her, a strange curiosity washing over him.

She seemed… lighter, more at ease than he’d ever seen her with him. The corners of her eyes crinkled as she smiled, a genuine, unburdened smile that never quite reached him.

He felt a tap on his shoulder. His father, Anthony, stood beside him, a proud smile plastered on his face. "Son, I've gotten you and your wife a present."

Lewis braced himself. He knew his father’s “presents” usually came with strings attached.

Anthony gestured towards a nearby table. On it sat a framed picture. Lewis's breath caught in his throat. It was a photo from the ceremony, taken just as the priest declared them husband and wife.

In the picture, he was kissing Y/N. The angle made it look passionate, intimate. A lie meticulously crafted for public consumption.

“Lovely, isn’t it?” Anthony beamed. “A perfect memento of your special day. I’ve already had copies made for all the papers.”

Lewis forced a smile. “Right. Perfect.”

He took the frame, the cold glass a stark contrast to the warmth of his hand. The kiss in the photograph was nothing more than a well-rehearsed move, a performance for the cameras. Yet, looking at it now, with the love in her eyes captured in that split second, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of something akin to regret.

"Thank you," he murmured, his voice thick with something he couldn’t quite identify.

Anthony clapped him on the back, his eyes gleaming. "Remember, son, this is just the beginning. You two are going to be the golden couple of the racing world. A powerhouse team that can't be beat."

Lewis nodded, trying to ignore the knot in his stomach. He had agreed to this sham of a marriage for the sake of the Ferrari deal, for the sake of his career, but seeing the hope in his father's eyes made him feel like a fraud.

Anthony leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Now, I know this isn't the way you planned your wedding night," he began, "but I've got a little surprise for the two of you."

Lewis's heart skipped a beat, his mind racing with what his father could possibly mean.

"Dad," he began, his voice tight. "We've talked about this. It's just for show."

Anthony's smile never wavered. "Of course, of course," he said, patting Lewis's back. "But a little bit of authenticity goes a long way, doesn't it?" His eyes twinkled with mischief. "Besides, I've got a feeling that there's more to this arrangement than meets the eye."

Lewis felt a sudden heat rise to his cheeks. His father had always had a knack for reading him like a book, and it was clear he wasn't fooled by the façade. But before he could protest, Y/N's mother called Anthony over, her eyes sparkling with happiness.

"Goodbye son," his father said, his grip firm on Lewis's shoulder. "I hope you can enjoy this new chapter in your life."

The words echoed in Lewis's ears as he watched his father walk away, leaving him standing next to the framed photograph.

He glanced back at Y/N, her laughter filling the air like music. Her eyes caught his, and she offered a soft smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. It was a smile for the cameras, a smile that said, “Everything is fine.”

But Lewis knew better. He could see the shadows that lurked beneath the surface, the doubt that she kept so well hidden.

He made his way over to her, the floor seeming to tilt beneath his feet. He had to admit, the champagne was hitting him harder than he'd expected.

The warmth of her hand in his was like a lifeline, grounding him in a reality that was quickly becoming more tangled than the vines that adorned the walls of the venue.

Their guests began to file out, their laughter and chatter fading like the last notes of a symphony. The grand ballroom grew quiet, the only sound the soft clink of crystal and the rustle of fabric as they moved together.

The first guest approached, an older woman with a cackle that could cut through glass. She leaned in, her breath hot with whiskey, and whispered in his ear, "A little something to keep you both warm on those cold nights, dear."

With a wink, she handed him a velvet box that was surprisingly heavy. He took it, feeling the weight of her assumption pressing down on his shoulders.

The next was a burly man, a sponsor for the racing team, who clapped him on the back hard enough to make him stumble. "Here you go, champ," he said, his meaty hand palming Lewis a bottle of cognac.

"Keep her happy, yeah?" The bottle was cold, the condensation already forming on the glass a stark contrast to the heat of his cheeks.

A procession of well-wishers followed, each with a gift more extravagant than the last. A set of silver cufflinks that weighed down his wrists, a leather-bound book of love sonnets that smelled faintly of cigars, and a sculpture of a Ferrari that was so intricately detailed it looked as if it could drive off the table at any moment.

Each time, the guest would lean in and whisper something about the marriage bed, their eyes glinting with knowing amusement, as if they were all in on a secret that was anything but secret.

The weight of the gifts grew heavier with each addition, until Lewis felt like he was carrying the weight of a thousand expectations. The room spun around him, the lights playing tricks on his vision as he tried to keep his smile in place.

Finally, the last guest had gone, the caterers had cleared away the last of the dishes, and the music had faded to a dull throb.

The only people left were their closest friends, the ones who had known them before the racing world had claimed them, before the Ferrari deal had turned their lives into a performance.

Lewis placed the last gift on the pile, his heart racing. He could feel the eyes of their friends on him, the same friends who had seen them through the ups and downs of their careers, who knew that this marriage was a sham.

He approached Y/N, who was still sipping on her champagne, surrounded by her giggling friends. The way they leaned into her, whispering sweet nothings, made him feel like an outsider in his own wedding. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions that surged within him.

As he drew closer, the scent of her perfume reached him, a delicate blend of jasmine and vanilla that had haunted his dreams for weeks. It was the same scent she'd worn on their first time meeting each other.

He wrapped his hand around her waist, feeling the smooth fabric of her dress give way to the warm, supple flesh beneath. Her breath caught in her throat, the sudden touch sending a tremor through her body that made him tighten his grip, if only to steady her.

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes wide and searching, and for a moment, Lewis wondered if she could feel the storm of doubt and desire that raged within him.

He leaned closer, the scent of her perfume wrapping around him like a seductive embrace.

Her breath hitched, the soft fabric of her dress whispering against his fingertips as he pulled her closer. He felt the warmth of her skin through the gossamer material, her body responding to his touch with a delicate shiver.

Their eyes locked, and in the silence of the emptying ballroom, the truth of their arrangement danced unspoken between them. The air grew thick with tension, the only sound the erratic beating of their hearts.

"Are you ready to go?" he muttered, the words barely escaping his lips.

The music had stopped, the laughter had faded, and the only sound left was the erratic thumping of their hearts. The question hung in the air, a silent plea for a connection that went beyond the script they'd been given.

Y/N's eyes searched his, a mix of confusion and something else, something he hadn't anticipated. Her cheeks were flushed, not from the heat of the room but from the potent cocktail of emotions that swirled within her.

The champagne had done its work, loosening her inhibitions and leaving her vulnerable to the storm that brewed in her chest.

"Tired?" she murmured, her breath warm against his neck. The word was a question and an invitation, a gentle challenge to his intentions.

Her pulse quickened, a silent rhythm that matched the tempo of his own heartbeat, echoing through the sensitive skin of his neck.

Lewis nodded, the simple gesture loaded with a world of meaning. His eyes never leaving hers, he felt a strange thrill at the thought of her submission, her willingness to follow him into the unknown.

He wasn't tired in the traditional sense; he was weary of the charade, the endless masquerade that had become their lives.

"Let me say bye to my friends," she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. The words seemed to hang in the air, a declaration of intent that sent a shiver down his spine. The room swirled around them, the faces of the remaining guests a blur of pastel colors and forced smiles.

He nodded, his hand still clutching hers, the heat of their connection a stark contrast to the cool air conditioning. The tension between them was palpable, a living thing that seemed to pulse in time with their racing pulses.

Y/N turned to her friends, her smile a practiced mask that didn't quite reach her eyes. She whispered her goodbyes, each word a silent promise that she'd return to them, unchanged by the whims of fate that had brought her to this moment.

The women hugged her tightly, a few whispering words of advice or congratulations that she barely heard over the roar of blood in her ears.

As she moved from one friend to the next, her mind swirled with the gravity of the situation. The warmth of their embraces was a stark contrast to the icy grip of doubt that had taken hold of her heart. Each goodbye felt like a final farewell, a symbolic cutting of ties to the life she knew.

When she finally turned back to him, her eyes searched his for reassurance. The intensity of his gaze made her knees wobble, and she took a deep breath to steady herself.

"I'm ready," she murmured, the words a soft caress against his skin.

Their friends had formed a corridor, cheering and showering them with the remaining confetti as they walked hand in hand towards the exit.

Each step felt like a leap into the abyss, the weight of their decision pressing down on their shoulders. Yet, with every footfall, the tension grew more electric, the anticipation more potent.

The confetti fluttered around them like a blizzard of colorful secrets, whispering sweet nothings of passion and promise.

Each piece that stuck to their skin was a silent testament to the excitement of the night to come. The cheers grew louder, the claps more insistent, as if the very air was urging them onward.

Y/N felt a strange mix of exhilaration and fear. The confetti stuck to her lashes, her hair, the fabric of her dress, a glittering reminder of the happiness they were expected to embody.

His grip on her hand was firm, grounding her in the present, as the cacophony of their friends' celebration grew dimmer with every step.

As they passed the threshold, the confetti cascading down like a glittering waterfall at their backs, the weight of their decision settled over them.

The cool evening air kissed their flushed faces, a stark contrast to the heated passion that awaited them. The world outside the ballroom felt alien, a place where their roles could be shed like the very confetti that clung to their clothes.

Their eyes met, a silent promise exchanged, and the cheers of their friends faded into the distance. The night was theirs, a canvas upon which they would paint their desires without the judgmental eyes of society watching over them.

He led her to the limo, the driver holding the door open with a knowing smile.

The cool leather of the seat was a stark contrast to the heat that emanated from their bodies, their hearts beating in unison like a primal drum.

As the car pulled away from the curb, the city lights danced across their faces, casting shadows that played upon their features like lovers' whispers.

The confetti that clung to them fluttered in the breeze from the open window, a gentle reminder of the world they'd left behind.

Y/N leaned back into the plush seat, her eyes closing for a brief moment as she allowed herself to be enveloped by the sensation of the cool leather against her skin. She was tired, but it wasn't the physical exhaustion of the wedding that weighed her down.

"Wake me up when we get there," she muttered, the words slipping out of her mouth like a soft sigh.

Lewis chuckled lowly, his eyes never leaving the road ahead.

"I don't think that's going to be an issue," he murmured, his voice a velvety rumble that sent shivers down her spine.

The idea of staying at his house had been a fleeting thought, a secret fantasy that had danced at the edge of their consciousness since the moment they'd met.

The car's smooth ride seemed to mimic the rhythm of his breath, deep and steady. The scent of her perfume filled the space around them, an intoxicating blend of jasmine and vanilla that had become as familiar to him as his own heartbeat.

Lewis hummed but discarded that thought immediately. He wasn't going to wake her up.

The gentle vibrations of the car's engine lulled her into a deep, peaceful sleep, her head resting against his shoulder. Her soft, even breaths brushed against his neck, sending waves of warmth through his body.

He felt a primal need to protect her, to shield her from the world outside, even if just for this one night. His eyes remained on the road, but his mind was lost in the sweetness of her presence.

When the limo arrived at his house, he thanked the driver with a nod and a tip that conveyed the depth of his gratitude.

The engine's purr grew quieter as the car came to a stop, and the world outside seemed to hold its breath in anticipation of what was to come. The headlights cast an ethereal glow across the manicured lawn, illuminating a path that led to his front door.

He turned to her, the soft curve of her cheek still pressed against his shoulder, her lashes fluttering with the beginnings of a dream. Gently, he lifted her into his arms, cradling her like a precious treasure that had been entrusted to him.

Her eyes remained closed, but a faint smile played upon her lips as if she knew she was safe, protected in the cocoon of his embrace.

The cool night air kissed her skin as he carried her up the stone steps to the grand entrance of his house. The weight of her was comforting, grounding him in a way that his vast wealth and power never had.

The door swung open, revealing a warm, inviting foyer that was a stark contrast to the cold, impersonal hotel suite they had just left behind.

Inside, the scent of freshly baked cookies wafted from the kitchen, a welcome greeting that seemed to have been orchestrated by some invisible hand.

He kicked off his shoes, the sound echoing through the hallway, and carried her to the living room. The crackling fireplace cast flickering shadows across the floor, dancing over the polished hardwood like a living tapestry.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she took in her surroundings with a sleepy smile. "This isn't the hotel," she murmured, her voice a soft purr that seemed to resonate with the warmth of the room.

He chuckled, his breath stirring the hair at her temple. "No, it's not. This is my home," he said, his voice thick with the promise of what the night would hold.

He lowered her onto his plush bed, her legs draped over his as he sat beside her, one hand never leaving her waist.

Her eyes searched his, the sleepiness replaced by a spark of excitement. She knew this was a pivotal moment, one that would change their dynamic forever. "What are we doing?" she whispered, her heart racing.

With a knowing smile, he leaned in and brushed his lips against hers, the warmth of his breath mingling with hers. "Whatever you want," he replied, his voice a seductive whisper that seemed to coil around her like a lover's embrace.

He kissed her again, more insistent this time, his hand sliding up her side to cradle her neck, his thumb tracing the delicate line of her jaw.

Her breath hitched, and she leaned into him, her body responding instinctively to the heat of his touch. The weight of his hand on her neck sent a shiver down her spine, and she could feel her skin prickling with anticipation.

His thumb traced the outline of her ear, sending a cascade of sensations through her, making her squirm with pleasure.

He deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring the soft recesses of her mouth, tasting the sweetness that was uniquely hers.

Her hands found his shoulders, her fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt as if to hold onto him, to never let go. . . .

[ominouspuff]

Kote’s House

Kote’s first house is a pathetic thing, and he is incurably proud of it. The twi’lek he purchased it from very evidently could not make up his mind what to do with a man that grinned while he haggled, but it was the first time Kote had haggled over a purchase of his very own. He had thoroughly enjoyed it.

The house is built for one being, and a compact being at that, but Kote doesn’t have much. Moving in is quick, and most of his efforts during the next few days after go into attempting ambitious repairs for things he doesn’t know the first thing about. 

His plumbing is an issue, he knows. Something is getting blocked up. Somehow while trying to fix the kitchen tumbler, his fresher spout explodes.

He hadn’t kept his new house a secret from anyone by any means, but it is still surprising when Fox barges in through his jamming front door. He finds Kote on the floor in his cramped kitchen while the fresher rains water in the adjacent room, laughing so hard and so crippled with delight that he can’t get up.

He tries to explain how wonderful it is —

“I-I have to fix my plumbing on my own, vod—”

—but judging by Fox’s single raised eyebrow he knows it doesn’t translate.

Fox, it turns out, is moving into the neighborhood. Kote doesn’t ask about the house Fox already has — the house he has visited, which is very nice and fancy — or point out that Fox’s contract there cannot possibly be up, which begs the question of why he’s here in Kote’s neighborhood — except that Kote already knows the answer to that question. So he doesn’t ask.

Fox doesn’t show him any grace or forbearance, though.

“Don’t even know how to fix a damn pipe, front lining show-off—” His brother snarls, but it is muffled; his top half had to go down beneath the floor they’d pried up to get at the plumbing issue.

“So that’s what they had you doing all these years.” Kote says, because he really is in a criminally good mood. He barely ducks the foot-long pipe Fox throws at his head, feeling giddy.

He makes dinner that night in thanks. Fox stays, ostensibly because now that he’s fixed the fresher he intends to use it, because his new house isn’t hooked up properly yet to all the supply lines and power grids. 

They choke on homemade tiingilar (vode-style; Kote can’t pretend at the real thing yet) so heavily spiced it’s got grit to it that sticks between the teeth. It’s disgusting, but Cody had bought fifteen different spices and while usually he likes to keep his approach to the unknown more cautious, more methodical, he couldn’t think of anything he wanted to do more than use them all at once for the first time. 

Wolffe joins them not long after; brings a few others along by recommending the apartment he picks out, so that soon most of the complex is taken up by vode, Kote hears, but he doesn’t visit yet. Everyone’s too busy coming over to his house, it seems; filling up his kitchen and asking why he hasn’t fixed the trash disposal yet, why he doesn’t have a couch, doesn’t he know they’re all the rage among civilized folk?

Kote fixes the trash disposal with Rex, who is better at it than he is but says it’s only due to Skywalker’s influence on managing all things mechanical. 

“How is Skywalker?” Kote asks, and gets more than he bargained for over the next hour. At first he’s a bit off-put, because he’s trying to get dinner sorted again and he’s not been very fond of Skywalker at the best of times, but Rex is snorting out a story and laughing and it’s contagious, so Kote just resigns himself and settles in to enjoy.

Skywalker has little ones, now. Obi-Wan is the only one that can get them to sleep. Ahsoka is distressed; she knows better, but every instinct in her is apparently in agony over the little ones’ inability to eat meat yet. She obsesses over nutrients in their diet — which, given what tiny natborn humans primarily ingest in the early stages, makes for some slightly awkward conversations.

Rex helps with dinner afterward, and they take turns being incredulous over natborn baby facts, shoving around one another in the tiny, uncomfortable kitchen.

“What’s your next project?” Rex asks at one point, glancing sidelong with a cheeky look, and Kote levels his vegetable knife at him (he’s got a vegetable knife. Specifically for vegetables. It’s a very new concept). 

“I make everyone’s dinner on Tuangsdays.” He says. “I’m productive.”

Rex’s sharp-toothed grin turns thoughtful. “Yeah” He says. “Everyone loves coming here, you know. You could be the new 79’s.”

Kote knows. He plans and plots, and puts more work into researching recipes than he’s put into any research whatsoever in months. It feels a bit like coming out of a shore leave; his thoughts quicken and his excitement grows. He hunts down a market. He brings a bag. He shops, bargains, and returns victorious.

He sends out a few comms., and can’t help but shake his head and grin at how different the responses are. 

What a marvelous idea, Cody. His general — ex-general — says.

Yus pls, Ahsoka sends back, with some sort of strange tooka vidclip that dances with wiggly gyrations Kote can only assume indicate excitement.

Where is your house, Anakin says, blunt and to the point, and Kote can appreciate that. 

He sends the address. He cooks all day. The sun sets, and Fox and Wolffe arrive, already bickering, Rex trailing behind with a long-suffering look sent to Kote, begging commiseration.

“Ugh, don’t you ever stop smiling, now?” He gripes when Kote just grins at him. 

“Nope,” Kote says, unrepentantly.

He leaves the soup on the stove, simmering, and takes his cup of caf to the window. He leans on it, breathing in cool air, and just listens — listens to the squabbling as Wolffe gets on Fox’s case for not washing Kote’s dishes correctly the last time they visited. Hears the soft thumps of Rex sneaking into the cramped room Kote has set aside for plants and the sole pet he has; a pastel goullian, fins swaying ever so gently, permanent scowl in place. Thinks he catches, distantly, the sound of his remaining three guests (Padme couldn’t attend, and had made him feel very awkward by how thoughtfully she apologized for it) plodding up the hill. 

“Cody!” Ahsoka cries, coming into view and waving. 

Kote’s cheeks have stopped aching from all the smiling he’s gotten used to, so it’s easy to let another through.

[borathae]

↳ Index [Day 21 - Needy Fucking]

Pairing: Soft Dom!Seokjin x f. sub!Reader

Genre: married life!AU

Kinks: penetrative vaginal sex, needy fucking, oh lord they are so needy, strength & size kink (he is taller), hair pulling (m.receiving), choking (f.receiving), subby girl tears, praise kink, good girl kink, possessive dirty talk, breeding kink for the sake of possession NOT pregnancy, creampie, use of a plug to keep the cum inside afterwards, he playfully spanks her clit with it, hihih they’re so needy but they’re also in love <3

Wordcount: 2.2k

a/n: honestly, i don’t know what demon possessed me but i wrote this in like fourty minutes and it’s so unhinged JFJDAJF i watched outlander before that and they were being so horny so i think the language i used got a lil influenced by it jjfadjf have fun my loves 💗

“You’re such a good girl”, Seokjin grunts through gritted teeth, burying his heavy cock inside your dripping cunt over and over again. 

You are beneath him, writhing and moaning with your head far away in the blissful high of pleasure he has you on. 

It started off as a romantic evening. You and he wanted to do something special as husband and wife, have a little date and make it lovely. And oh lovely it was. You went for dinner to an expensive restaurant then had fun at an arcade until you even spent your last pennies on the silly machines. It was perfect. It was fun. It was romantic. And it was arousing. 

Being with each other like this - having fun and laughing together, spending time doing something you both enjoyed and seeing each other dressed up in pretty clothes - made the desire for each other so unbearable that you barely managed to drive home without taking each other in the car. In the middle of the road, causing trouble for others. Of course you didn’t. You were civilised like that. Ignoring, of course, the heavy make out session in the apartment complex hallway. Now, normally you and he are never that public with your skin ship, let alone with outright desire, but you needed each other so much. Seokjin kept panting and growling into your mouth, acting like a starved man finally having his taste of flesh again. You never witnessed him in public like this before, wanting him like nothing else because of it. If you were any less civilised, you might have ripped his clothes off his body right there and then.

But you controlled yourselves, stumbling into your apartment and right to your bedroom, undressing each other on the way so that you fell into the sheets both naked and wet. There was barely any, what others might consider as traditional, foreplay. No long exploring touching, no hungry mouths tasting the other, no grinds or needy rubbing. There were hungry kisses, strong grips and desperate begs for the other. It wasn’t long after you and he fell into the sheets that Seokjin was buried inside of you. Deep and in a merciless, maddening rhythm. And you loved it. You loved every second of it. 

You still do. 

You love it so much.

“Good girl, taking me so well. Being so pretty for me, fuck I can’t get enough of you”, he moans, showing you his honesty in heavy rolls of his hips. His cock is weeping, pleasure mixing with yours and covering both your groins in it. How sticky it is. How messy and wet and sinful. If he could, he would bottle this feeling so he can relive it whenever he wants to. He loves nothing more than to laugh with you, loves nothing more than to experience happy life with you and to see that you are enjoying yourself as well. Tonight you ruined him, you made him a mad man driven by his desire for you. You looked so beautiful, you were so perfect and funny and wonderful. Seokjin knew he had to make you feel eternal the moment you first smiled at him. 

And he loves that you want him just as much, that you are so wet and so warm because you are in paradise. Seokjin pumps his throbbing cock into you in a sensual roll of his hips. He keeps it there, writing his name on your most sensitive spot. He watches with a dizzy head how this turns off every single light of sanity in your eyes, leaving behind fiery, wild flames of pleasure. The only thing keeping the flames at pay are your tears, filling your beautiful eyes before rolling down your temples. 

“Jin”, you whimper, lower lip trembling and fingers desperately grasping his hair. It is as black and dark as the night, hanging into his beautiful face messy and damp from sweat. It sits perfectly between your fingers, twisting so easily as you hold onto it for dear life. 

“Does it feel good for you? Is this nice?” he asks you, mesmerised by the view of you. 

You nod your head, sobbing softly with your brows furrowing in ecstasy. 

“___ my sweetheart, I love being with you”, he gets out, making sure to keep the rhythm going. It makes you feel like this and Seokjin would be damned if he took this away from you. The tug on his hair grows. It burns and pinches, motivating him to keep going. It feels so good to have his hair pulled. Especially when it is done in a moment of passion. 

You do it gently and softly whenever you and he are making out. You do it mindlessly and rather shakily when he eats you out for a long and attentive time. And you do it harshly and desperately whenever he is buried inside you to the very hilt. 

Seokjin loves having his hair pulled in a moment of passion, riding on such a strong wave of pleasure that the feeling brings him to his fall tonight. 

His middle presses into you, rubbing against your swollen clit while his veiny cock still drills your puffy walls. His face falls into the crook of your neck and his left hand incidentally falls around your throat, laying there trembling and trying not to squeeze down. 

“Seokjin”, you sob, instantly wrapping your limbs around him. Your hips meet him in the middle, falling into a sloppy dance solely motivated by pleasure. It feels so good to both of you that you can’t stop it. So now you lie rutting and fucking in the sheets, holding each other so close that not even air could separate the two of you. 

He is taller than you, he has more muscles too. You always call him your gentle giant and your handsome protector. Whenever you do, Seokjin smiles to himself shyly and he seems to be cuddlier for the rest of the day. Sometimes when you lie together after a hard day, you love to rest your head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat. You feel so safe whenever he allows you to do this. When the weather is colder again, you sometimes like to cuddle into him until he wraps his jacket around both of you. You feel so warm and taken care of whenever he does this. And sometimes in bed, when he is barely awake, you lie beside him and trace the paths of his body until you made a map of it. You feel so blessed whenever he gives you consent to do this.  

Tonight, his tall, strong body is atop of you, spending you warmth and applying gentle pressure on your chest. You never felt more connected with him than you do right now and you sob because of it, begging him to seal the connection even deeper. 

“Choke me, please.”

His hips falter for a moment.

“Please my love, please.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, please. I’m yours, just please make me yours.”

“Oh, I’m gonna make you mine in more ways than one, my love.”

His fingers close around your throat, cutting off the blood flow to your brain just enough that a warm dizziness spreads behind your eyes. 

“Holy fuck, Seokjin”, you moan, arching your back as best as his body on top allows you to, fingers twisting his hair in an attempt to handle what he gives you. 

“Is this what you need, sweetheart? Does this feel good?”

“Yes, good. So good, oh god, so good”, you sob and mewl, throbbing around his heavy cock.

“Fuck sweetheart, I’m gonna cum so deep inside you. Gonna breed you with the sole purpose of making you mine.”

“Seokjin, please!”

“The way you say my name, urgh fuck”, he gets out and growls, forcing himself back onto one elbow so he can look at your face as he makes you feel eternal. 

Your eyes are squeezed shut, your brows pulled tight and your mouth is agape. This is it. This is the face you make when you feel nothing but pleasure. 

Seokjin swears he tears up himself at the sight of you, applying a little more pressure on your veins. 

You wail up, arching your back off the sheets and reaching above yourself to twist the pillow. Your legs fall from his hips, shaking on the mattress each time he drills his leaking cock into you. 

“Say it again, sweetheart. Say my fucking name.”

“Seokjin”, you croak. 

“That’s right. Who makes you feel so good?”

“Seokjin”, you whimper. 

“I do, baby, I do. Fuck”, he grunts, struggles for a second then continues with even more passion, “and who do you belong to?”

“Seokjin”, you wail, grasping his wrists to squeezes them so tightly, Seokjin fears they might bruise. 

“You do, baby, you do. Fuck, you do. Mine and I’m yours. All yours, baby. With my body, heart and soul. Yours.”

“I’m cumming, please.”

“Let go, sweetheart. I’m right here. Your gentle Seokjin’s right here”, he soothes you and lets go of your throat. 

The blood shoots back to your brain, serving as the final blow to throw you over the edge. You make a little squeak then fall into silent screams, shaking with such vigour that Seokjin fears for you for just a moment. 

“Holy fuck sweetheart, what the hell? Baby, fuck. That’s it, cum for me. That’s it, such a good girl. Cum on my cock, such a good girl. You’re so pretty like this, my good girl, my pretty girl”, he chants, tongue acting quicker than his brain. He has no idea what he is spitting, but he knows that whatever he is saying to you in his delirious state, it comes from his heart (and maybe also a little from his cock).

“Please. Breed me”, you croak out with what little strength you have left as your orgasm shakes you, but to Seokjin’s ears it was as clear as day.

It breaks him. He couldn’t have stopped it even if he tried.

His eyes roll back and stay there, his back arches as far as the position allows it to. His legs feel like weak sticks, shaking between yours as his heavy balls empty themselves inside your tight cunt. He makes sure to cum so deep, to bury each droplet of his white seed in your walls so that they will know who they are allowed to welcome. Not that he has any doubt in your faithfulness, as you have none in his’, but it still feels so good to both of you to seal this promise of monogamy with a deep, sticky creampie.

He drops on top of you once your highs died down, burying you under his weight. Not that you mind. You hug him tightly, smiling happily with your head still turning.

“I fucking love you, Mister Kim”, you lull.

“I fucking love you too, Misses Kim”, he rasps, voice barely there after what he just experienced.

With your heart fluttering, you giggle. He giggles as well, kissing your neck softly. You enjoy it with tingling skin, making him feel good as well by tracing his spine gently.

“I can’t believe we did that.”

“Yeah, it was amazing. For me it at least. Was it-”

“Hush, of course it was amazing for me. You did everything right.”

“Yay, I’m glad I did.”

You laugh because he is a dork and you are irrevocably in love with him. You shift a little under him, groaning in disappointment.

“I don’t want to leak. I wanna keep you inside me for longer.”

“Mhm”, he pecks your cheek, “I have an idea. Do you trust me?”

“With my life.”

“Then, don’t move. I’ll be back.”

He rolls off of you, giving your pussy a little kiss before he truly climbs off bed to hurry to the dresser.

“What on earth are you doing?” you ask him in a chuckle.

“Getting something so you can keep me inside.”

“And what will that be, mhm?”

He returns to you, climbing on top of you. You grab bundles of his hair, purring happily as he kisses you. The kiss lasts until your breath runs out, then it breaks and Seokjin disappears between your legs. You prop yourself up in your elbows.

“What are you doing?”

He lifts a clean silicone buttplug. You ogle it, gulping.

“I know your pussy’s strong enough to keep it inside for a little. Wanna have it?”

“Yes”, you say, opening your legs.

He takes the plug inside his mouth to wet it, letting go of it with a bop of his puffy lips. He connects it with your clit first, spanking it softly. You gasp and twitch, soon reaching down to his shoulder gently.

“Stop it you”, you laugh, “I’m too sensitive for your shenanigans.”

He chuckles and nuzzles his nose into your inner thigh, kissing your skin lovingly.

“Sorry, couldn’t resist”, he murmurs, giving you one last kiss before sitting up.

He connects the toy with your puffy hole and pushes it inside, making you moan softly and drop into the sheets in a sensual squirm.

“Mhhhm that’s nice. God, I love being plugged up with your cum still inside.”

“And I love knowing that something of mine is inside that warm heaven of yours”, he rasps, kissing a path up your body, “now come and let me kiss you.”

“Is it just me or is someone not sated yet?”

“When it comes to you? I’m like a spoiled house cat never happy with what its fed.”

You fall into the kiss laughing and smiling, twisting his hair gently.

[mintyys-blog]

Hi loved ur zatanna, and raven inspired reader so much ✨️ 💗. I wanted to ask if you could please do a x-men storm inspired reader. On how she met main mark and how they're relationship came to be. 😘😘

THUNDERSTRUCK — mark grayson x storm! reader

INVINCIBLE MASTERLIST

Y/N had always known that her powers were not something that could be easily hidden. She was different. Her ability to manipulate the weather—control the skies, summon storms, and even influence the very atmosphere around her—was a force to be reckoned with. But she had learned to control it, to understand that balance was key. As a young woman, she had faced many battles, some literal and others more internal, but one thing she had never anticipated was finding a place where she truly belonged.

It happened one day when Mark Grayson—better known as Invincible—had arrived in her city. A young hero, just starting to make a name for himself, he was everything Y/N had heard about: strong, determined, and, in many ways, a bit reckless. But it was his heart, his genuine desire to help others, that caught her attention.

The first time they met, it was during an unexpected storm. A group of villains had descended on the city, threatening to cause destruction with no regard for anyone’s safety. Y/N had tried to keep the storm contained, but the chaos of the attack pushed her to the edge of her control. Lightning crackled in the sky, winds howled violently, and the very air seemed to press down on the streets like a suffocating weight.

In the middle of this, Mark appeared—his bright, determined figure cutting through the chaos. At first, Y/N wasn’t sure what to think. He wasn’t quite like the others she had seen—he had a naivety about him, a sense of optimism that almost felt out of place in the midst of such destruction. But as he fought alongside her, saving civilians and holding back the villains, she began to see something else in him: someone who wasn’t just fighting to win, but fighting to protect.

Their battle was brutal, but together they defeated the villains. Afterward, as the skies began to clear and the storm started to subside, Mark turned to Y/N with a grin. “That was amazing! You really know how to control the weather,” he said, his voice filled with admiration.

Y/N smiled, her usual cool demeanor still intact, though she couldn’t help the small spark of curiosity. “It’s not all about control,” she said. “Sometimes, the storm just… needs to be unleashed.”

Mark laughed, a sound that made her feel something she hadn’t in a long time: warmth. “I get that. But you definitely know how to handle it.”

From that moment, they started to spend more time together. At first, it was casual—fighting side by side, helping one another with their respective challenges. But there was a connection between them, one that neither could ignore. Mark was kind-hearted, but there was also a strength to him that Y/N respected. She had been wary of relationships before—her powers and the dangers that came with them made intimacy difficult. But Mark, despite his own struggles and responsibilities as Invincible, never judged her for her abilities. In fact, he embraced them.

As their friendship turned into something more, Y/N found herself feeling like she was finally able to let down her guard. Mark, in his own quiet way, made her believe that she could have both love and her power, that she didn’t have to choose one over the other.

Their relationship grew stronger, not just because of their shared battles, but because of the respect and trust they had for each other. When they stood together, whether in the heart of a storm or in the aftermath of a battle, they were unstoppable. Y/N’s powers became a symbol of their connection—a reminder that no matter how turbulent life got, they could weather any storm, together.

And so, through the chaos of their world, Mark and Y/N found their peace in one another. A relationship forged through understanding, strength, and the willingness to embrace the power they both held—together.

As time went on, Mark and Y/N’s bond deepened. The chaos of their world seemed to follow them, but there was something about facing it with someone who truly understood the weight of it all that made things easier. Mark had his own struggles—being a superhero, trying to balance his duties, and dealing with the responsibility of living up to his father’s legacy. But Y/N saw something different in him: a person who fought not for fame or glory, but because he genuinely wanted to make the world a better place.

One evening, after a particularly grueling battle, the two found themselves atop a building overlooking the city. Y/N had calmed the storm she had unintentionally created in her frustration with the fight, but the winds were still strong, her senses alert to everything around them. Mark, on the other hand, was tired, his suit battered from the fight, but his smile never wavered.

“How do you do it?” Y/N asked, her voice soft but curious. “How do you keep going, no matter how hard it gets?”

Mark’s expression softened, and for a moment, he seemed lost in thought. Then, he turned to her, his eyes steady and sincere. “Because I know there’s always a chance to make things right. No matter how many times I fall, there’s always another chance to stand up again. And besides,” he added with a grin, “there’s something about fighting alongside you that makes everything feel… worth it.”

Y/N felt a warmth spread through her chest, something she hadn’t let herself feel in a long time. She had always been guarded, keeping others at arm’s length to avoid the inevitable pain of losing them. But with Mark, she found herself opening up in ways she hadn’t expected. He didn’t push her to change or become someone she wasn’t. Instead, he accepted her as she was—the calm in her storms and the fury she sometimes couldn’t control.

One night, as they sat together beneath the stars, Mark took a step closer, his hand brushing against hers. “I don’t know what the future holds for us,” he said quietly, “but I know that I want to face it with you. You’ve changed the way I see everything.”

Y/N turned her head to meet his gaze, her heart racing for a moment. “And what if things get… complicated?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “What if we can’t handle it?”

Mark’s expression was unwavering, a quiet confidence radiating from him. “Then we’ll face it together. You don’t have to carry the weight of the world alone. Not when I’m here.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. She had never allowed herself to trust anyone like this before, never allowed herself to believe that someone could truly stand by her, no matter what. But with Mark, she felt that pull, that undeniable connection that told her maybe—just maybe—there was a future for them. A future where she didn’t have to fight alone.

Their relationship was put to the test, though. As much as they supported one another, the dangers of their world were ever-present. One day, a new villain appeared—one whose power seemed to match Y/N’s in ways that unsettled her. This new enemy could manipulate the elements, creating storms of her own, and for the first time, Y/N found herself struggling to control her abilities.

The battle that ensued was fierce, with both women unleashing devastating forces on each other. Y/N’s mastery over the weather was challenged, and for a moment, she thought she might lose control. But Mark was there, as always, fighting beside her. He kept the villain distracted, giving Y/N the time she needed to regain her focus.

When it was over, and the villain had been defeated, Y/N collapsed into Mark’s arms, exhausted and overwhelmed. The storm within her had settled, but the emotional aftermath was still swirling in her mind.

Mark’s voice was calm, steady, as he gently stroked her hair. “You did it. You didn’t let her win.”

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes filled with gratitude and something deeper. “I couldn’t have done it without you. You’ve always been there when I needed you.”

Mark smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “Always. We’re a team, remember?”

From that point on, their relationship took on a new depth. They weren’t just partners in the battle against evil—they were partners in life, supporting one another through every challenge, every obstacle. Y/N learned to trust Mark with her heart, just as he trusted her with his. They fought for each other, for their city, and for a future where they didn’t have to face the storms alone.

In the quiet moments between battles, Mark and Y/N found solace in each other. Whether it was sharing a peaceful evening under the stars or simply sitting together in silence, their bond grew stronger. They knew the world was far from perfect, but with each other, they found a sense of balance that kept them grounded.

As their relationship deepened, so did their understanding of one another’s powers. Y/N taught Mark how to tap into the forces of nature in subtle ways, while Mark’s unshakable optimism became a steady anchor for Y/N during her most turbulent moments. Together, they proved that no matter how fierce the storm, love could be the calm in the eye of it all.

[whatudowhennooneseesyou]

𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐢 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐍𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐀𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐬 (𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 & 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐅𝐨𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝)

Disclaimer: This is for entertainment purposes only and should not be taken seriously. 18+

Methodology: Traditional and Whole Sign

Placements:

Leo Sun

Cancer Moon

Sagittarius Rising

Virgo Venus (retrograde)

Scorpio Mars

Is He A Fuckboi?

6/10

People who have a Virgo Venus can enjoy having sex without feelings involved so Mingi probably can be a fuckboi but his Cancer Moon would intervene and he would become emotionally dependent on you very quickly.

His Sagittarius/Jupiter influence means he has a high drive like super fucking high he can go all day if he had the opportunity.

So, I feel in his horny moments he could just fuck a random stranger but afterwards or when it's out of his system, he'd probably feel bad or low-key guilty about pursuing sex if there's no 'feelings' involved.

Red Flags:

Mommy Issues! Mingi is a huge Mommy's boy and he's mentioned in the past about how his relationship with his mother is the most important to him.

This is EXTREMELY common in men who have Cancer Moons and they usually grow up with a mother who 'babies' them and have a borderline codependent relationship with their mother.

So you might struggle with being accepted by his family and consistently fight for approval or validation from the women in his family.

Green Flags:

Your No 1 Support Person! You will feel like you haven't experienced as much support and hype energy from your loved ones like the support you'll experience from Mingi.

He will be devoted to you and worship you and do whatever he can in his power to ensure your life is easier and more enjoyable whenever you're with him.

Whilst Mingi is a high-maintenance partner, his presence as a boyfriend would have a healing impact on you and life will fill like a more positive experience when you're with him.

Ideal Type: If He's Into Women (Which I'm Damn Sure He Is)

Personality Traits:

Extroverted!!! He has a 5th House in Aries so he is attracted to women who are loud, outgoing, extroverted and are not afraid to speak up about their needs.

Mingi is someone who's a constant over thinker so he needs a partner who is okay with being upfront about what their needs and expectations are of him, it's why he has a strong friendship with Yunho because Yunho tells him what to do and he does it.

Protective!!! He really is low-key looking for someone who will embody a 'mother' role and ensure he feels safe, protected and cared for all the time.

If you look at heaps of fancalls with Mingi, the ones where you can tell he's invested in the Atiny are the ones who lead the fancall and just basically hype him up and froth over him.

Physical Traits:

Here's the Link to a fancall with an Atiny where he explicitly says 'you're my type' and you can TELL omg he looks like he wants to devour her in those remaining 30 seconds.

A feminine/girly aesthetic with a slight emo/punk twist combined with a masculine attitude is the best way to describe Mingi's type physically.

If you don't want to click the link, he says word for word to the Atiny 'look so amazing, black (he did say that but the Atiny muted it), and dark, and your accessory and outfit is so beautiful...yeah my type'.

The Atiny later revealed she's British and Dominican so the rumours of Mingi being attracted to women who are of a different ethnic background are probably true (a win is a win).

Sub, Switch Or Dom?

Mingi is a switch with a submissive preference and the only member of Ateez who has a submissive preference and would fall into the category of being an obedient and needy/clingy sub.

He has an 8th House Moon and these people are NASTY in the bedroom usually so his partner would have to be open to trying new things.

In a dominant position, Mingi would become a soft/service/pleasure dom and would probably still need a lot of reassurance even if he's taking the lead.

And men with a Scorpio Mars are the type to fuck and love passionately so whilst he's not a degrading/mean lover...he wouldn't necessarily be a gentle lover either because he struggles with verbally expressing his love for you so he's going to ensure you know he loves you in another way.

Which usually manifests in him fucking you so deep your hips bruise, legs are shaky and there's an ache in between your thighs the next day.

Speaking of thighs...

Kinks: (Just A Few)

Ass and Thigh play!!!

Mingi is an arse and thigh guy all the way, he loves seeing your arse jiggle as he fucks you doggy style and leave hand prints all over your cheeks.

Would enjoy a late night lovemaking session where he can hit it from the side and squeeze and play with your thighs as he fills you with his love.

He'd enjoy pulling out and covering your arse with his sticky cum, watching it drizzle down your thighs while he takes a few sneaky pics for his phone collection.

You think he's been a bad boy and want to punish him? It hurts his feelings that he can't fuck you but he'd be more than okay with pushing his dick in between your thighs and just getting off in that way.

And don't think this is just for you no honey, this goes both ways.

You riding his thighs? Using him like a personal toy just to get yourself off? He'd have to force himself from not cumming in his pants with how hard it would make him.

Scratch his thighs, smack his arse, you can low-key bite the meat of his arse and leave a bruise there and he would enjoy it all the same.

You just need to validate him and tell him how good he is, how proud you are of him, how wet he makes you feel.

'Look how wet you made me right now mmmh? You deserve a reward for being such a good princess for me right?'

On a more taboo level, Mingi could also be into kinks like anal, arse play (both giving and receiving), rimming, and I think in the right environment he'd even let you peg him.

Just ensure he receives the most immaculate aftercare, allow him to do the same to you and he'll never leave your side.

He's tied to you for life.

I won't be publishing anything in September because I'll be writing for Kinktober so pls enjoy this longer post!

It's been a struggle for me to stay motivated on here because my last few posts have flopped with receiving attention and/or interest...considering how long I have been on here.

So adieu until October!

Taglist: @scuzmunkie @marievllr-abg @umbralhelwolf @starsareseen @lino-jagiyaa @mischiefsmind @mrcarrots @junieshohoho @gyuhanniescarat @partywithgyu @whatsk-poppinhomies @hologramhoneymoon @staytinyinmybpack @necessiteez @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @berryberrytan @laylasbunbunny @bangchanbabygirlx @i-love-ateez @anyamaris @krishastumblernow @hexheathen @michel-angelhoe @northerngalxy @justaaveragereader @ja3hwa @silentreaderthings @daddysspecialdollyworld @abby-grace @wisejudgedragonhairdo @smilefordongil @writhingwrecked @hongthoven @youre-alittle-taste-of-hell

[sheeezu]

⋆ Shift - Energy conversion method ⋆

This method basically materialises your DR when you divert your precious mental and spiritual energy towards it.

It's a pretty easy method and the time period might vary for different people, I don't think it should go over an hour.

First, what is energy and how can you start consciously feeling the direction of your energy.

Energy and vibrations are practically the same thing. You must have heard about it if you've dwelled into astral projection or the gateways tape, where one of it involves imagining putting away your negative emotions/energy in an energy convertor box.

Although this method doesn't rely on visualising, what we're going to achieve is to take our energy, which is characterised by strong emotions, and put it towards our DR, WRs, kind of like a vending machine, you put a coin in to get your desired product.

Think of it, at all times we are putting emotional efforts into something, e.g your CR while going through your day, you feel at all times. If we talk about shifting, we have an attachment to the practice of shifting to our affirmations, towards hope of being in your DR, one day, tonight, etc. We all do this, but to shift, we need to throw this away. By following this principle of emotional involvement, and instead directing it directly towards your Dr, reality will shift for you.

Anyways, enough rambling, let me explain the method.

Basic concept of the method- in theory.

Energy, it exists in many other forms in us. But for this method we'll be taking our emotions, feelings. Feelings which are strongest in order of time, because the reality we're in and the ones we usually shift to involve the influence of time - past, present and future.

In order of the strongest feelings, we can form a direct connection to our Drs.

Past - Nostalgia.

There's nothing stronger than nostalgia, which leaves you feeling trapped in the nicest way possible, in the middle of your memories. I still remember it, my waiting room which i based off my grandparent's house, which always gives me a strange sense of comfort and nostalgia, the sharp subcontinental sunlight which fills me with warmth makes me feel familiarity which I can't describe.

In your DR and WR there must be something which causes you to be filled with nostalgia, it's perhap a memory from your childhood, or if you go into the specifics stuff like me, like how the light from the streetlights illuminate the fog on a winter day, or if you're shifting to your WR it's a special object, a place. Don't chicken out on this one, you're a living breathing person in your Dr, who has lived there their entire life.

Present - Desire, need, passion.

In the present, the strongest you could feel is having an impulse to act passionately, associating it with your DR. You're not a robot who's stuck up on affirming, you're someone who's already in your DR, so full of life.

Future - excitement.

Your plans in your Dr fuels you with excitement. Sure, you have already assumed you're already in your Dr, but that doesn't make it any less exciting to wake up and do what you love, to see the faces of your loved ones. You feel strongly regarding your foreseeable future in your Dr.

Basic concept of the method- in practice.

You could do this at anytime, but it's best to do this when you're relaxed. Your tiredness level doesn't matter, nor does your position while laying down, it's best to just not move, but if you're not comfortable with it, you can move around but try to not focus on it, focus on what's going on in your mind, because that's what shifts you.

Close your eyes, the best thing you could start off with is light daydreaming about your DR, for better or quicker result during the whole method it's best if you think of more decision/consequences based scenarios, afterwards, or during if you're going to affirm, I'd recommend visual affirmations (go around a specific place in your DR, see affs written around in any way you could think of).

We're checking into our DR. Now you're going to tell yourself that you are present in your DR fully, physically, mentally in your 4D, so you're supposed to remind yourself that 3D follows right afterwards.

Now, we're going to do a little on our own to attract results in 3D instantly by converting our energy, and expressing our DR in emotions.

All those emotions I've mentioned before, you're supposed to practice them in order of time, time does not exist anywhere else, just in your DR.

You could this by visualising scenarios where these feelings are induced naturally, for past, you can flash nostalgic images in your mind, or by listening to nostalgic voices relating to your DR as if listening to an old tape.

For present, if you're laying next to your S/O, do you feel desire to just roll over and just hug them? Other than that, you have a need to sustain yourself, your humanely need to stretch in bed, get up to eat, look out the window into the morning sky.

For future, if you work an engaging job, you could get excited about it. Other than that, hype up your future goals, aspiration.

If you've done this by adopting the nature and characteristics of your DR self, you can shift easily. You can add a wider variety of emotion. Importantly, don't fall into any doubts about you not being there, about you still being here, if you can't get over the gut feelings or if the shifting symptoms are intensifying periodically than you can keep repeating your scenarios/words/voices which induce these emotions for you.

...

Before I fall into a deep contemplation on how I could've improved this post and my explanation I am just going to go watch dead poets society because I miss it.

...