#when I first read the issue from the first image I was going through it and it meant a lot to me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

whytheylosttheirminds · 1 month ago

Text

Don't Call Me Kid - Chapter 5 (part two)

(Rafe Cameron x Reader series, 3.8k words)

series summary: You'd had a crush on Rafe Cameron since you were six years old, but he friend zoned you at every turn. Once shy and insecure, you found new confidence and self-love after high school. When your high school friends go on a reunion beach trip, Rafe finally sees what he lost, but he isn't going to give you up without a fight.

tropes: unrequited crush, glow up, she fell first/he fell harder

series content: some angst, eventual fluff, slow burn, tomfoolery and shenanigans, drinking, fem!reader has occasional insecurity and body image issues

⇢ series masterlist

Years later, you’d still wonder if Topper did it all on purpose.

When you asked him, he’d just wink and say “bet you’d like to know.”

As your group walked down the dock towards the rental kiosk, Topper pulled out his phone, grinning down at the screen.

“What’s funny?” Carter tried to read over his shoulder.

“Nothing,” he tucked his phone in his pocket quickly, failing to hide the cheeky look in his eyes, zero poker face. “Kelce is coming.”

The guy Carter had haggled with brought your group over to the three jet skis and gave you a demonstration on how to drive them. You weren’t paying very close attention, more focused on the uneven pairing of the five of you and how to ensure you didn’t end up on the same jet ski as Tom. His rudeness this morning was the final nail in the coffin of your crush.

The guy gave Carter three keys, and you met her eyes, knowing she was thinking the same thing.

Topper looked at Carter hopefully, his big puppy dog eyes watching her with anticipation. You felt for him, the two of you really weren’t all that different. Sure, he’d gotten to hook up with Carter plenty of times, his crush not totally unrequited, but she’d never given him what he really wanted. At the end of the day, you were just two people who were really good at loving people who didn’t love you back. Still, you knew in your heart of hearts that Carter did love him back, even if she wouldn’t admit it. Maybe you would never get your dream, but you could make sure that two people you cared about got theirs, and that might be the only thing that made this all worth it.

You planned it out quick, knowing Carter was seconds from asking you to ride with her so you wouldn’t be with Tom, and also knowing that what she really wanted was an afternoon alone with Topper.

“I told Kelce I’d ride with him,” you blurted out.

“Did you?” Carter asked skeptically, trying to figure you out.

“Yeah, I think he’s still worried I’m mad at him,” you made up off the top of your head. “Thought I’d throw him a bone.”

Carter watched you the whole time she boarded the back of Topper’s jet ski, telling him to wait up so they didn’t leave you alone. Tom and Sabrina didn’t seem to care about leaving you, speeding off the second they climbed on their jet ski, Sabrina’s over-the-top shrieks echoing through the air.

“That bother you?” Topper asked when he caught you scowling in their direction.

“Actually, I’m thinking they might be made for each other,” you concluded.

“So you’re not, like, into him?” Topper asked hopefully.

“Not anymore. That ship sailed so quick,” you snorted.

“Ah,” he tried to play it cool, “good to know.”

“Don’t get any fucking ideas,” Carter warned him.

“I didn’t say anything!” He insisted.

“You don’t have to, you have zero poker face,” Carter said. “No Tom does not equal yes Rafe.”

“I’m just saying it’s good to know. Am I not allowed to know things?”

You rolled your eyes at their bickering, less than surprised they were having this conversation right in front of you.

“Y’know, you guys can just take off, I’ll be fine waiting for Kelce,” you offered, desperate to move this conversation about your love life out to sea and away from you.

“Right, Kelce,” Topper nodded. “Kelce is coming.”

“Why are you being so weird?!” Carter squinted at him.

“I’m not! I just wanna go!” Topper revved the engine of the jet ski.

Carter looked at you one more time, checking that you were okay with this.

“Have fun!” You said to reassure her.

That’s all Topper needed to hear, he hit the throttle and pulled away from the dock as fast as he could. Carter’s laughter filled the air, she grabbed him tight and tucked her chin in the crook of his shoulder as he drove. She was happy, so you were happy. Your whole life, that’s really all it took, and you knew she felt the same way about you.

With that lovely thought, you climbed on the jet ski so you’d be ready to go as soon as Kelce arrived.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄

Rafe held the keys a little too tight, Kelce struggling to pry them from his hands.

“You gotta take it easy on the clutch, she’s sensitive.”

“I know how to drive, man,” Kelce wriggled the keys from his grip as he climbed into the driver’s seat of Rafe’s truck.

Rafe stalled by the door for a minute, his feet suddenly feeling very heavy. He looked around the marina, scanning for the group. His heart skipped a beat when he found only you, bobbing in the water on your jet ski all alone.

He’d texted Topper a head’s up that he was coming and asked him to let you know. He didn’t want you to think he was in on Topper’s dumbass scheme to get you two together. If he was gonna do this he was gonna do it right, not try to trick you into it.

Now you were waiting for him, looking so gorgeous with your legs on either side of the seat and your hair blowing gently in the wind.

Usually, he didn’t call girls beautiful, typically opting for hot, or sometimes pretty if he was drunk. But the only word for you right now, and always, was beautiful.

“You gonna let me leave, man?” Kelce asked, gesturing to Rafe’s hands, still clutching the handle of the door.

“Yeah, sorry,” Rafe pulled away, wiping his hand against his board shorts when he realized it was clammy, the sight of you making him nervous in a way he had never been before.

“What’s got you so worried? Are you scared of her or something?” Kelce mocked him.

Rafe was surprised that Kelce had actually caught on to who he was looking at, giving him an annoyed eye roll.

“I’m not scared of her,” he defended himself.

“Don’t even worry about it man, I bet she’s still wrapped around your finger.”

Rafe shot Kelce a steely warning look he’d given him a thousand times.

“I’m just saying, you don’t need to worry,” Kelce explained. “You’re the man.”

Kelce was an idiot, and he spent a good ninety percent of their friendship pissing Rafe off, but he always tried to hype Rafe up. Usually he was annoyed by it, but right now, he actually needed it.

You used to talk about him that way, too. Oh, the money he would pay for you to see him in a good light again. He’d swim across this entire bay just to hear one kind word about him coming from your lips.

“Nah, I’m really not,” he shook his head slightly, looking back toward you. “But I think with her I could be.”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄

The audacity, the fucking nerve of him to come strolling down the dock looking that good. The sun actually broke through the crowds at his arrival, like he’d bribed the gods. He strolled towards you so casually, his grin easy, like he didn’t know he was the most attractive man you’d ever seen in real life. It pissed you off.

“What are you doing here?” You snapped at him when he reached you.

His grin faltered, like he was the one surprised to see you.

“Didn’t Topper tell you I was coming?” He asked.

“No, of course he didn’t,” you said, finally understanding the reason for Topper’s strangeness earlier.

“I asked him to,” Rafe swore. “I didn’t want to make you think I was trying to-”

“I think I’m just gonna go alone,” you cut him off, turning the key in the engine of the jet ski, desperate to put an ocean between you and him before he said another considerate thing that he’d just undo later. “You can rent your own.”

“No can do,” said the owner, arriving to hand Rafe a lifejacket. “This is our last one. You better take your boyfriend with you, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes at the situation and the misogynistic comment.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you mumbled.

Rafe felt the correction was unnecessary, but you didn’t seem to be in the mood for constructive feedback at the moment.

“Is it cool if I, uh, can I come with you?” He wasn’t walking back down this dock without trying.

“Fine,” you agreed reluctantly. “But I’m driving.”

“Good with me,” he climbed on quickly before you could change your mind.

With a kick that sent you both lurching forward, the jet ski roared as you tightened your hand on the throttle. Instinctually, Rafe’s hands landed on your side, holding you both in place. You only had a second to feel the pads of his fingers clinging to the soft skin of your waist before he pulled them away.

“Shit, sorry,” he said.

The guy on the dock leaned forward to push the jet ski from the dock, redirecting you out toward the bay.

“No, actually you should hold on,” he instructed. “These babies go fast and it’s a little choppy out there today. Take it real easy out of the marina and then you can kick it up when you’re in open water.”

You could feel Rafe’s hands twitch with hesitancy before they rested on your sides again, so lightly you wondered if he was actually touching you at all.

With a push, you drifted out to sea, slowly picking up speed with the turn of the throttle.

“Do you want me to let go?” He asked, leaning in so you could hear him over the roar of the motor.

Somehow, you thought two completely conflicting thoughts at the exact same time:

Yes, now.

and

No, never.

You settled on, “whatever.”

Rafe started to let go, but the jet ski hit the wake of a nearby boat, and you both nearly flew off the seat. His grip tightened protectively, practically pinning your body down. With his strong hands on you so firmly, it felt like you could hit a tidal wave and he’d still have you in his grasp. You needed more of whatever that was.

Your laughter filled the salty air as you purposefully drove you and Rafe over the choppiest patches of the water, hair whipping behind you into his face, and he didn’t even care. He watched you in the side view mirror on the front of the jet ski, memorizing every inch of your smile like he’d never see it again.

“Jesus, are you trying to kill us?” He teased, yelling over the woosh of the wind.

“It’d be a fun way to go!” You yelled back, meeting his eyes in the mirror.

Rafe’s hands still on your waist, you felt him lean in slightly. Even with two lifejackets between you, the proximity of your bodies was electrifying. You could feel his strong thighs on either side of your hips, closing you in everytime you hit a bump, securing you in place. You wondered if he was doing it on purpose or if it was just his instinct, you didn’t know which was hotter.

The water rushed behind you, a foamy wake marking your path as you continued driving as fast as you could. The others must’ve gone a different way out of the marina, because they were nowhere in sight. The sky was darkening slightly, the shift in weather causing most boats to drive the opposite way, back to the docks. But you just kept going, and Rafe didn’t tell you to turn around, both drunk on the adrenaline of the speed and the feeling of each other’s skin.

After a particularly jostling bump, the engine sputtered slightly.

“Fuck, what was that?” You puzzled, turning the throttle harder but gaining no speed.

“Here, you gotta twist it like this,” Rafe’s arms wrapped around you, his hands covering yours as he guided you to turn the throttle in the exact way you just were.

“That’s exactly what I was doing,” you bickered. “It’s not working.”

“Maybe I should drive?”

“It’s not my driving, something’s wrong with the jet ski,” you argued, swatting his hands away.

“Can you just let me try?” He argued back.

“No, you’re making it worse!”

The engine continued to sputter until it cut completely, causing both your bodies to lunge forward as it came to an abrupt halt.

“Rafe what did you do?” You accused him.

“What did I do? You wouldn’t even let me touch it!” He snapped.

You turned the key in the ignition over and over. The jet ski growled a few times but never started back up. Eventually, you gave up with a frustrated huff.

“I think we’re out of gas,” you conceded.

“Well, did you ask the guy if it was filled before you left?” Rafe questioned.

“Oh, so now this is my fault?” You craned your neck to see him, anger in your eyes.

“No, that’s not-”

“I’m so tired of this, Rafe.”

“We’ve only been out here for like a minute.”

“No, not this,” you motioned toward the water, “this,” you motioned between you and him.

“Oh. Me?” He tried and failed to hide his hurt feelings.

“Not you, just, all this back and forth. One second we’re having a good time and the next you’re pulling away or snapping at me. I have fucking whiplash.”

“Are you sure it’s not just from the jet ski?” He attempted a joke, it only half worked.

“How are we gonna get back?” You redirected the conversation before he could see you were smirking.

“A boat will come by,” he said confidently. “We’ll be fine.”

No boats came by in the following minute, or the following five. You sat in tense silence, your previous words still hanging between you. Your head hurt from the wind and trying to figure this man out.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, almost inaudible. “I know I’m…difficult.”

You turned your neck, not quite far enough to see him, but enough to let him know you were listening, that he should go on.

“I don’t know how to act around you,” he admitted. “One second I feel like I’ve fucked it up so bad that there’s not even a point in trying to fix it and the next…”

This time, you do turn, twisting your torso so you could look him intently in the eyes, imploring him to say something right for once, begging him not to let you fall off this cliff alone again.

“…you look at me like that,” he almost whispered. “And then I think fuck it, I’d try forever if you let me.”

For the first time ever, he was with you on the way down, finally jumping together.

“Can I?” He asked, voice low.

“Can you what?” you blinked at him slowly, the moment so surreal you worried it wasn’t happening, that you’d wake up in Carter’s bed, all of this day just one long fever dream.

“Fix things…with you?”

“I don’t know.”

It was the most honest answer you could give him.

“Can I try?” His voice broke slightly when he said it, and you could feel the vulnerability leaking through the cracks.

“Yeah,” you gave in.

“I miss you,” he breathed, and your heart felt heavy with longing and resentment at the same time.

“I don’t think you ever really knew me, Rafe,” you said, turning to face forward again, sad eyes scanning the horizon. “You never paid close enough attention.”

He thought over your words, and you could feel that there was something brewing in his mind, a decision he was making. When he finally spoke again, it wasn’t the words you expected.

“What’s your favorite color?”

You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face as you said, “huh?”

“Just tell me,” he smiled back, even though you weren’t looking, you could hear it in his voice.

You answered him, and he followed that question up with another, and another, and they kept rolling off his tongue and you kept answering, until the strangeness of it faded and the two of you were just talking.

For over an hour, you drifted, leaning forward on the handlebars with your back to him as Rafe asked you questions and listened intently to your long, detailed answers. You were hesitant, just at first. No one had ever let you talk this long without interrupting you. No one had ever wanted so badly to hear what you had to say. He nodded along to everything, responding with thoughtful mhms and carefully worded follow up questions.

After a while, you forgot about the surrealness of it all, where you were, who you were with. It was just you and your old friend, sharing your lives with each other.

I could do this for a long time, you thought, like maybe forever.

Everytime you thought he must be bored by now, he just kept asking, hanging on every word like he was collecting them for some secret project.

“What do you want to do after you graduate?” and “Who’s your closest friend?” and “Are you still into that one band?” and eventually, when he was running low on ideas, “what’s the last movie you saw?”

You laughed.

“What?” He asked with a timidness that squeezed your heart.

“The last movie I saw was the last movie you saw,” you reminded him.

“Oh, right,” he chuckled, but there was an edge to it.

“It’s a good movie, though,” you leaned back toward him a little, trying to pull him from whatever thoughts were causing his spirit to fall. “My favorite.”

He nodded, “Tom did a nice job putting together that little shindig.”

“I guess so,” you said, not sure how to proceed.

“You know he plays football for U of F?” He said. “Or did I guess, before he graduated.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yeah, he was All American,” he nodded. You’d give all the money you had for one glimpse of what was going on in his head.

“He’s an impressive guy,” he admitted. “I can see why you’d end up in his room.”

“Rafe, oh my god,” you huffed, standing suddenly. Your body rose above him, his eyes tracking every movement. You swung your leg over the seat, flipping around so you were facing him, sitting back down so you could look him in the eyes when you said, “I didn’t sleep in Tom’s room.”

“Oh.”

It was all he could muster up, his throat going dry from both the embarrassment he felt for being wrong and the sudden proximity of your bodies. He willed himself not to let his eyes travel down to the way your lifejacket was pushing your chest together, or the soft skin of your bare thighs, now spread open in front of him as you straddled the seat. He kept his eyes on yours, the most respectful option, though it didn’t help his speechlessness. The uninterrupted contact with your beautiful irises nearly put him over the edge. He almost hoped no boats would come by after all so he could look into your eyes for hours.

“Is that why you got up and left last night?” You questioned, not missing the way his eyes were trained intensely on yours.

“The floor was uncomfortable,” he mumbled.

“The floor,” you nodded, “the floor was uncomfortable. Got it.”

“You're mad at me again,” he surmised.

“When was I ever not mad at you?”

“I dunno,” he shrugged sarcastically, “somewhere between the movie and your panties hitting the floor.”

You wanted to slap him. And kiss him. He could tell, teasing you with a sideways smirk. You tried to channel the newfound confidence you’d had last night, addicted to the taste of power.

You leaned forward, hands on the leather seat between you, looking up at him with hooded eyes.

“Did you like that?”

“You know I did.”

He responded so fast and his voice was so low you couldn’t tell if he was pissed off or turned on. Either way, he wasn’t fucking around anymore.

“Then why didn’t you stay?”

It felt like that one question held so many questions, and based on the look on his face, you knew he could hear it too. You weren’t just asking about last night, you weren’t just asking why he went to sleep on the couch. You were asking about years of him coming up short, why he’d failed you so many times, why he never, ever seemed to pick you.

“I didn’t know you wanted me to.”

As he said it, the wind kicked up, and the jet ski began to rock even harder as waves rose and fell beneath you. One particularly choppy wave had you tilting a little too far off the seat, and Rafe’s hands landed on your waist again. This time, there was nothing hesitant about it. When you didn’t push him away, his thumb brushed an experimental circle into your skin.

“Do you want me to let go?”

In lieu of answering, your hands came to rest over his. He assumed you were gonna pull them off of you, and for a moment you thought you might too, but then his words echoed in your mind: he didn’t know you wanted him to.

You could do this. You could lean into it and just let it happen. You were supposed to fight it, make him grovel more, make him pay you back for the years you’d waited. It’s what everyone expected. You were only a few hundred yards off shore, but the rest of the world felt lightyears away, and out here, there was nothing stopping you letting him touch you, kiss you, have you. You could just let it happen, and no one would have to know.

But before you could decide if you wanted to, a deep rumble of thunder broke out across the sky.

“Shit,” you jumped.

“We gotta get out of here,” Rafe looked up at the darkening sky nervously.

“But how?”

“How well can you swim?”

That’s how Rafe ended up in the water, gripping the back of the jet ski as the waves rocked it harshly, water splashing up and landing on your feet. You tightened your lifejacket, feeling apprehensive about the whole thing.

“I can just push us if you want to stay on,” Rafe offered.

“No, it’ll go faster if it’s both of us.”

You stepped to the edge, hesitating, wanting to rip the bandaid and just jump in but not wanting to jump too far off and get separated. Your indecision cost you, your foot slipped and you dropped into the water, your leg scraping against the edge of the jet ski as you fell.

Blinded by pain, you reached for Rafe as your head slipped under the surface, but your hands came up empty.

(Chapter 6: part one)

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄

a/n: please note, the taglist for this series is currently closed. For updates, follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs 💕

1K notes · View notes

cheeseceli · 6 months ago

Text

When you struggle to eat

Pairing: Ot8!skz × Gn!reader (individually)

Genre: hurt/comfort, fluff, reactions

Request: reader thinking she eats "too much" and decides to eat way less for her body image, and how the skz boys would react to that.

Warnings: eating struggles will be discussed; reader has body image issues; mentions of food multiple times; use of petnames in Chan and Changbin's

Disclaimer: this was made with the purpose to comfort anyone who's going through a similar situation. If I made a mistake and made someone uncomfortable/aggravated the situation, please do tell me and I'll correct or delete this post immediately, whatever is preferred. Topics related to eating disorders will be discussed here, please don't read if that's something that triggers you.

Bang Chan - is ready to listen to all your worries

‌We all remember Chan's Room right?

‌He's ready to spend hours if needed just to understand what you're going through ‌and where your insecurities are coming from

‌At the same time, he will never judge you

‌So you know he's your safe place

Constantly checks up on you even if he's far away through texts and calls

And if there's someone who's aggravating the situation or making you insecure, you can bet he's gonna solve the situation himself

"Talk to me baby. What's going on in that mind of yours, hm?"

Lee Know - eats with you

Probably the first to realise something's off, considering food is almost his love language atp

Likes to have as many meals with you as possible

‌He usually makes a mountain of food in his plate, so you don't worry about the amount of food in yours

‌And he also runs errands with you

‌Especially those like buying food

‌You don't even gotta ask, he would be volunteering on the first opportunity

‌Also cooks for you, whatever you want

"Do you want to eat anything? I can cook"

Changbin - Hype man

‌Your personal hype man fr

‌Is ready to compliment you in absolutely everything

‌The best part is that you know that his compliments are always genuine

‌What do you mean you didn't like that trousers?? You looked fantastic in it! That shirt made you look even more gorgeous

‌He has known you for so long and still, he always finds something new to compliment you on

But even if after all the reassurance you want to change the way you look, he will be by your side to help you do it in a safe and healthy way

"You look perfect, baby. I promise. Actually, I still don't believe I managed to pull someone so beautiful like that"

Hyunjin - has all meals with you

‌And with that, I really mean all meals

‌Breakfast, lunch, dinner, you name it

‌Even if you can't really get out of your work place or your university, he's going there then

‌He just doesn't want you to be by yourself

‌He also always has something to say during those meals

‌News about their comeback, gossip at jyp, stories from his childhood...

He never fails to admire you a lot in those moments as well, never letting you forget how much he loves and appreciates you

‌He does that hoping it will distract you from the food, so you can be more at ease

"Have I ever told you about the time Kkami bit my ankle? I think I still have the scar."

Han - makes you feel beautiful

‌He truly doesn't understand how you don't think you're the most beautiful human being to ever set foot on this earth

‌In his eyes, you were born perfect

‌So, naturally, he makes it his mission to make you see yourself in his point of view

‌Compliments and adores you

‌Will make you feel beautiful, pretty, sexy, cute... Whatever you wanna be

‌Above all, he'll make you feel loved

"No matter what size, you'll always be my love. Don't forget that."

Felix - distracts you

‌With that, I mean that he tries to take your attention off food and body image related subjects

‌Before and after eating, he will always bring you along to activities where your mind can be turned off

‌So many fun dates!!

‌Even during the meals he'll have a similar idea to hyunjin and simply won't shut up

‌Most of his compliments don't involve around your body, so you really don't think about it

"I love this hairstyle of yours. It looks wonderful"

Seungmin - protects you

‌In a sense that no one even dares to comment on your looks/habits

Even if he isn't there with you

‌That because he made it very clear that everyone should watch their mouths around you

‌For as long as he's around you, he will do his best and more to protect you from harmful comment

Also tries to experiment a lot of different foods with you all the time, so you never feel like that's a burden or a bad thing

"Hey, have you heard about the new restaurant close to home? The food is peruvian. We could have dinner there tonight."

I.N - physically reassures you

‌He loves you and every single part of you, including your looks

I believe he was a bit lost in the beginning, not exactly sure on how to help you

‌But even if his words aren't exactly his biggest strength, he still wants to reassure you as much as he can

‌So he does that with his touch

‌Holding you on his lap, kissing all of your "imperfections" and tracing patterns in your skin

‌Anything that can ground, reassure and give you comfort at the same time

"Have I ever told you how perfect you are? I should tell you that more."

Masterlist | you'll probably like: when you're overworked (ateez comfort)

Thank you for reading<3 I hope this was able to help someone

» I won't put the taglist on this one as I don't want to tag anyone in something that can possibly trigger them «

Dividers by @/cafekitsune, images 1 2 3

Thank you so much for the beta readers: @duhgurl @beebee18 @applekiwi3202 @elqivxstxr @mrsunshine999 @msauthor

1K notes · View notes

trolagygirl2022 · 1 month ago

Text

Your future spouse's favourite thing about you! PAC reading

pick your image!

Pile 1: King of Pentacles, 5 of Swords, 4 of Pentacles, Page of Wands rev.

Ok so your future spouse is really going to like your bold and strong personality. The song that popped up in my head was "Boss B*tch" by Doja Cat. I see you having this cool aura and not letting people walk over you. You can come off as intimidating or strong but you do have a soft side to you :) I see your future spouse being really intrigued by your vibe. I'm also seeing money here, perhaps some of you have good jobs. You might have gone through some issues where you used to get walked over and people would treat you in a negative way. Now you're healing and you don't let negative people in your life. You're not arrogant or rude but you're willing to set boundaries for yourself. I see you guys having quite some confidence! What also popped up in my mind is a powerful lady wearing dark red. Like those vibes are heavily coming out in this reading!! A lot of powerful woman vibes! (You don't have to be a woman but I hope you're getting the vision that's popping up in my mind hehe).

Pile 2: The Magician, 6 of Cups, 9 of Swords, 8 of Pentacles, 7 of Swords, 2 of Wands.

Okay Pile two, I see your future spouse really liking your creative side! It seems that we have a lot of creatives here! From tarot to arts and craft, to singing and crocheting!! There's some activity that you're either really skilled at or just enjoy that your future spouse will find cute about you. It seems to be something you're quite passionate about and enjoy doing it. (Some of you guys might have even taken it as far as to do a little side hustle with it!). Your future spouse doesn't only see your craft but they also see your hardworking side and the amount of effort and precision that's put into this. I'll interpret the 7 of Swords as some of you that might have thought that you're not as good at whatever you do. I see some of you guys having little to no confidence. This doesn't have to do with your art work but also your self esteem in general, I see your future spouse heavily disagreeing with this because they'll love your personality and whatever you do!

Pile 3: 8 of Swords, Death rev, The Empress, The Devil, Ace of Swords, 6 of Swords.

Sooo pile 3, I see your future spouse being very interested in your appearance, especially your body 👀. It's not like in a creepy way that they're objectifying you or anything but I see them just really like your appearance and your features. Your energy reminds me of the The Empress card (I'm using the modern witch deck). She's confident in herself and her body. I see you guys having this sort of aura that pulls your future spouse in. They might find themselves feeling very drawn to you, almost like a spell ahahaha. Your future spouses might at first be attracted to this and this might lead them to want to know more about you and find themselves being a bit intimidated? Like when you're a bit intimidated around someone but you still want to get with them. Some of you guys might have partners from a different ethnicity/race/nationality. I see your partner really liking your culture and would try to learn a lot about it. Like they might try to learn your language and travel to your home place. For this pile your future spouse will put in a lot of effort to understand you 🥺.

Pile 4: The Tower, The Hermit, Page of Wands, 4 of Pentacles, 10 of Swords, Death.

This pile seems to be the shyiest of them all! Some of y'all might be naturally shy while the other side might have been sort of "bullied" into being introverted. There's a lot of heavy energy in this pile, a lot of you guys have a lot of heavy baggage that you're still suffering the effects of. The hermit tells me that a lot of you guys like to keep to yourselves and stay alone. You might not go out of wanting to connect with people because you're worried and scared about new connections. You close yourself out so you'll probably be quite hesitant when it comes to starting a new connection with your future spouse. I see them trying though even though you'll be a bit stubborn. They'll like it though, I see them wanting to chase you and do their best to get with you. They'll be intrigued by your mysterious presence and will want to know more about you! Not like they're trying to be nosey but they're just very curious about you!

#kpop tarot #tarot #pac reading #pac tarot reading #pac tarot #pick a card #pick a pile #paid tarot reading #free tarot #free tarot reading #tarotblr #tarot paid readings #future spouse tarot

754 notes · View notes

tarotofhope · 1 month ago

Text

PAC: ♥︎♡ The Moment they realize they are in love with you ♡♥︎

(Please Read My Pinned post *IMPORTANT NOTE* before selecting a Pile)

Pick an Image by meditating and selecting the image you feel called to. You can be attracted towards more than 1 image. If you are not able to select maybe this reading isn't for you.

♥︎ Pile 1 ♥︎

Cards: 9 of Wands, The Devil, The Tower, Empress, 2 of Swords.

Welcome to your reading, Pile 1. Your partner is aware of their feelings because they can feel that it is different with you. There are aware of your struggles, both past and present. You can meet them when you're out of a tough period in your life, when you'll be beginning to stand on your own and when you'll start clearing up all the previous mess, your previous issue can be related to finances, romantic or platonic relationships. See, not every love story is going to be the same because not all people are lovey-dovey and so they cannot express their feelings in a romantic manner. Also, there's not always going to be a specific time of realisation for everyone, for some people it's an everyday process. They feel it everyday when talking to you, being in your presence. I think you see them, talk to them or hang out with them everyday, and if not, very frequently. It is going to be a slow and steady process, nobody is going to be impatient here. They see you shining brightly in your light, they think you're very brave and beautiful and they have so much respect for you. It doesn't matter if you guys decide to get married or not, but I can say that this is going to be a long term relationship. They will let you know but in the most subtle yet assuring of ways, because they don't want to scare you, you would be feeling the same for them, but you might hesitate because of past experiences, so they might be the one to let you know first. You might also be very indecisive and doubtful about this connection in the beginning, but with time you'll become sure and confident.

That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 1.

Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼

♥︎ Pile 2 ♥︎

Cards: 2 of Pentacles, Queen of Cups, Strength, The Sun, Empress.

Welcome to your reading, Pile 2. Your partner and you could be work colleagues or your relationship could somehow be work related. There's a lot of stress and pressure, or it could involve a busy schedule but they see you thrive in that environment. You are unfazed. You're unbreakable. They see so much emotional maturity in you, so much inner strength and determination to earn what you deserve. They see you everyday at work and they're in awe of you everyday. They're just somehow too scared of you, to let you know. They think you might reject them. They're also someone to keep their feelings bottled up, and also because you have a professional relationship with them so they think they can't just hop towards you with a romantic proposal, it might not look appropriate. You guys might not be getting time for yourselves, to open up more or hang out much. They think you're very beautiful/handsome and they really like your habits and work ethics and so you would make a great partner. It can be so that, in the beginning, they only get to observe you, admire you and your work from afar and then maybe you both get a project to work on as a team, or they get to talk to you at office parties or meetings(not the usual formal office talk)..something like that, and then you get to know each other better, you start going out together by taking out time from your busy schedule. Somehow, other people at work might get the hints, you won't be able to keep this relationship a hush for a long time. Office romance is forbidden in some places, so you guys might be careful. They will let you know that they love you when you've gotten far into the relationship, but otherwise, they'll express in other ways through their actions. I think even you are this way and because you guys are the same, there is this silent kind of love and you're both okay with it.

That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 2.

Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼

♥︎ Pile 3 ♥︎

Cards: 3 of Wands, Kings of Swords, Queen of Swords, The Hierophant, 4 of Pentacles, 8 of Cups.

Welcome to your reading, Pile 3. You might be someone who lives far away from your family due to work. They think you're very free and independent. Nobody can tame you. They like your free spirit. You come across as very intelligent, smart and clever. You guys could be in a long distance relationship. You both don't get to catch up a lot or if this is not a long distance relationship, you guys might be travelling together everywhere, you look like best buddies more than romantic partners to other people. You guys could be childhood friends or just friends before becoming romantic partners. So this connection is far deep rooted or there is a lot of familiarity between you two. You both would come closer to each other one step at a time, realising you're both compatible and inseparable. You could be very unconventional but rooted deeply in your culture or if not this, you could be unconventional and firm in your beliefs, whatever your beliefs may be, you don't like others telling you what to follow and what not to. They like how you speak and stand up for yourself and others. The King and Queen of Swords both came up means you both have smart and sharp minds and open-heartedness towards different cultures and religions, you guys also like to communicate and debate a lot. You guys might even like to pull pranks on each other. You're both fun loving. You both respect each other's beliefs and need for space. Whether or not you know each other for a long time, you guys still seem to have gotten along well too soon in the beginning. There's a lot of friendship and mutual respect between you two, you both match each other's freak very well. Even if you go your seperate ways, you might still choose to stay friends.

That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 3.

Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼

♥︎ Pile 4 ♥︎

Cards: The Moon, King of Cups, The Empress, The Devil clarified by 6 of Cups, 2 of Cups.

Welcome to your reading, Pile 4. You guys could be leaving a toxic person or an unsuitable career behind when you meet this person. You guys could both be divine masculine and divine feminine partners in this union. They love your femininity because it doesn't matter what gender you belong to, the cards are showing too much feminine energy here, which belongs to the person reading this pile while your partner has a lot of masculine energy. They love how you're mysterious, secretive, intuitive, emotional and sentimental. You wear your heart on your sleeve. They must've been impressed by you at first glance itself. They'd think that you're just their type, you just fit their criteria of a desried partner. You look well put together, well dressed and they'd think you're cute too. You might have short to average height and some of you might even have a curvy figure or a round face which they'd definitely adore. I'm getting so many 18+ messages in this pile, but I can't mention them here. They love how you both look so well paired up when you stand besides them, like you were made for each other. They love how you're nurturing and caring and they'd like to be the provider. You both give yourself equally into the relationship, it would look like a proper traditional couple. I'm also getting marriage vibes from this pile, this relationship can end up in a marriage if you guys want that because I can see that at least one of you is interested in creating a family with the other. You both like children and/or pets.

That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 4.

Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼

♥︎ Pile 5 ♥︎

Cards: Ace of Swords, The Emperor, 9 of Swords clarified by 2 of Pentacles, The Hanged Man clarified by Death.

Welcome to your reading, Pile 5. They started falling for you when you both talked, your very first conversation might have made them think deeply about you afterwards. It's the way you speak, clearly and genuinely, with no extra sweetness nor bitterness, neither cringy nor too loud/soft, just perfect, to the point. You don't talk to impress, you just talk what's on your mind and in your heart. They also love how you think before you speak, you don't just blabber anything. They admire your intelligence and smartness. They might even love your voice. They love to communicate with you, all the things that you like and dislike, because they like to see your gestures and expressions, your hand movements, your body language, the way different emotions pile up on your face according to the nature of your conversation. They think that you're also very knowledgeable about many things. They love how you're not a people pleaser, whatever you feel comes out on your face, you don't entertain people who don't value you, you don't play pretend/you don't play mind games either. Whether you put all your cards on the table at once or not, whatever you tell them about yourself is genuine, your compliments, your love, hatred, everything. You come off as very assertive and honest to them while you may appear arrogant or rude to others when you speak in a straightforward manner. You might have been pressed in life a lot, which made you the way you are now. You might have been stripped of your self-esteem and self-confidence, you might have been stuck and trapped in a mentally traumatic situation, which eventually made you direct, stubborn in your beliefs and straightforward, after so many efforts, and you won't take this down for anybody and they respect this.

That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 5.

Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼

Thank you so much for being here. I post PAC readings every Tuesday and Friday. Do love and support by reblogging, liking or following.

——————————— ♡ ♡ ♡ ———————————

550 notes · View notes

etheraltides · 12 days ago

Text

Of Tears and Triumphs

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summarize: A quiet morning at the Cameron estate becomes a turning point as the reader grapples with anxiety and a relapse in her eating disorder journey . Rafe, noticing the distress, offers comfort and support, reminding her that nothing is ever lost.

Warning(s): Eating disorders (compulsive eating), body dysmorphia, anxiety, emotional distress (shame, guilt), mental health struggles (depression, self-image issues), substance abuse (reference to past drug use).

A/N: To anyone reading this who is struggling right now, I want you to know that you are not alone. It's okay to feel lost, to feel overwhelmed, and to not have everything figured out. Healing is a journey, and it doesn’t happen overnight. Be kind to yourself, even when it feels impossible. You are so much more than your struggles.

Remember, reaching out for help is a sign of strength, not weakness. There are people – therapists, counselors, loved ones – who can support you through this. You don't have to face it alone, and you deserve to find the peace and healing that’s waiting for you. Please, take the first step towards getting the help you deserve. You are worth it. 💙

The sun had just begun to creep over the horizon, casting a gentle, golden glow over the Cameron estate. Everything was deceptively perfect: the ocean's rhythmic crashing in the distance, the birds that chirped from the tree canopies, and the soft rustle of leaves carried by the morning breeze. Yet beneath this serene surface, a storm brewed in your chest.

You sat on the edge of the bed, legs folded underneath you, the light duvet twisted in your restless fingers. Rafe's side of the bed was empty, the indentation of his head still fresh on the pillow. He'd gone out for an early surf with Kelce and Topper, leaving you alone with your thoughts – a dangerous place to be.

The room felt stifling, the silence pressing into your ears like cotton. You glanced at the old Polaroid on the nightstand. In it, you and Rafe were beaming, arms slung around each other at some summer bonfire weeks before. Your hair was wild from the salt water, and his grin was as reckless as ever. It was weeks after your steady recover, before you tripped and the weight of guilt and shame began pressing down on you like lead.

Yesterday had started normally. You’d woken up with the soft glow of the sun filtering through the curtains, feeling almost optimistic. It wasn’t until you scrolled through Instagram that the first thread of anxiety wove itself around your chest. A picture from a girl you used to know, toned and confident in her bikini, had appeared at the top of your feed. The caption read “Hard work pays off.”

Your thumb froze mid-scroll, your heartbeat pounding in your ears. Memories of skipped meals and endless calculations surfaced like unwelcome ghosts. A voice in your head, sharp and familiar, whispered, Why can’t you be like that?

The feeling followed you through the day, clinging like a second skin as your whole algorithmic seemed to sense your mind and show you all the gorgeous and thin girls in your feed. By the time afternoon came, the anxiety had grown into a suffocating mass that sat heavy in your chest. You paced the kitchen, each footstep echoing in your head. The silence was unbearable, the ticking of the clock like a countdown to something inevitable. You knew you weren’t going to settle down or forget until you did it.

The pantry door creaked as you opened it. Your fingers hovered over the neatly stacked items, trembling. Just a little, you told yourself, reaching for a handful of crackers. Just a few so I can cover this awful feeling – some good, old food comfort. But one taste turned into two, and soon, control slipped through your grasp like sand.

You moved on autopilot, the familiar numbness settling in as you grabbed chocolate bars, chips, anything you could find. Each bite was frantic, fueled by desperation and self-loathing. The last spoonful of ice cream melted on your tongue, its sweetness turning bitter as regret surged up, hot and suffocating.

When you came to, the evidence surrounded you: wrappers crumpled like discarded dreams, smudges of chocolate on your hands, the tub of ice cream half-melted on the counter. The kitchen, once a place of comfort, had become a cage, and you were the only prisoner.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, and you sank to the floor, hugging your knees to your chest. The weight of shame pressed down, crushing and relentless.

This morning, the mirror was your jury, and it was merciless. You tugged at your shirt, the fabric clinging to your skin as if conspiring against you. Your eyes, usually bright with laughter, were rimmed with red, dull and haunted. The internal monologue was relentless:

You’re weak. You’ve ruined everything. How could you let it happen again?

The silence in the house was shattered by the sound of the front door opening and closing. Rafe's voice echoed through the hallway, carefree and light. “Babe? You here?”

You didn’t respond, the shame was too raw, too close. You pulled your knees tighter to your chest, staring blankly at the mirror as if it would offer some kind of reprieve.

Footsteps approached and then paused at the threshold. The room was drenched in the soft, fading sunlight, but it did nothing to lift the heavy atmosphere.

“Hey.” Rafe’s voice softened when he saw you, the smile fading from his lips. Concern clouded his eyes as he took in your hunched form, your tear-streaked cheeks. He set down his phone without a word, crossing the room in three long strides.

“What happened?” he asked, voice low and gentle. He knelt beside you, resting a warm hand on your knee. The weight of his gaze was heavy but not suffocating, it was grounding.

“I messed up.” You whispered, voice breaking. “I messed up so bad.”

Rafe’s brows knitted, and he took a breath, steady and patient. “Talk to me, baby.” he coaxed. When you didn’t reply, he shifted to sit beside you on the floor, pulling you closer.

“I ate. I ate everything yesterday. I couldn’t stop.” you admitted, the words spilling out in a rush. Your voice trembled with the weight of confession. “And now I can’t stand to look at myself or… or to look at food again.”

His jaw clenched, not out of anger but out of a protective frustration. “Hey, hey” he whispered, turning to face you fully. His hands found yours, fingers weaving together with tender insistence. “Listen to me. You are not defined by one moment, alright? Not by yesterday, not by what happened.”

Tears welled up again, and you looked down, unable to meet his eyes. Rafe reached out, tilting your chin up so that you had no choice but to look at his blue eyes. “You were there for me, remember?” he said, his voice thickening. “Every time I messed up, every time I felt like I couldn’t crawl out of that pit with coke. You pulled me through. Don’t you dare think I’m not going to do the same for you. For however long it takes.”

The room stilled, the truth of his words settling into the spaces between the pain and you couldn’t help the sob that escaped your lips. You felt pathetic and mess, and yet Rafe was being understanding and loving – he was treating you like you should treat yourself.

He took your hand, placing a kiss to your palm as his eyes watched you tenderly. “Why don’t you take a nice bath?” he suggested, his voice gentle but firm. “It’ll help you feel a little better.”

You blinked at him, the exhaustion and emotional weight making it difficult to argue. Reluctantly, you nodded, and with a small smile, Rafe guided you to the bathroom, making sure you were settled before stepping out quietly, having lighten up your favorite eucalyptus scented cantle on the way out.

As the warm water wrapped around you, easing the tension in your muscles, Rafe was already in the kitchen, brow furrowed as he watched a YouTube video on his phone, the volume low so you wouldn’t hear. The video was one of those wholesome, comforting cooking channels, and he paid close attention, following each step precisely. He wanted this to be a surprise, a moment where he could make you feel seen and cared for like you had made him feel when he was struggling to keep clean.

Half an hour later, you slipped into one of Rafe’s sweaters, not wanting any fabric hugging your body. The scent of simmering herbs greeting you as you opened the bedroom’s door. Your curiosity piqued, and you made your way to the kitchen to find Rafe standing over the stove, a look of focused concentration on his face as he stirred a pot.

“Rafe?” you called, the sound soft, hesitant.

He turned, a sheepish grin spreading across his face as he caught your surprised expression. “Hey, I thought you could use something warm and comforting.”

“You didn’t have to—” you started, but he interrupted with a warm look.

“Yes, I did,” he said firmly. “It’s just a light soup to warm your stomach and keep you up. Something gentle to help you feel a little more settled.”

A few minutes later, he ladled the soup into a bowl, sliding it in front of you with a spoon. “This is going to be the best soup you’ve ever had.” He promised with a wink.

“And if you can’t eat much, that’s okay but you just gotta try, alright.” He pulled a chair, his arm sneaking around your waist as he brought you to his lap. His hand on your hip brushing a soft pattern under the fabric.

“Thank you.” you whispered, the tightness in your chest easing a little as you blinked a tear away.

Rafe pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “Always,” he said, his voice unwavering. “And remember, we’re in this together. Every single step.”

The first bite was warm and soothing and you felt your cheeks burning as he guided the spoon to your lips but his gentle whispers distracting you from feeling ashamed. He watched, eyes hopeful and patient. “It’s… really good.” you said, a small, genuine smile breaking through.

“Told you.” he grinned proudly, his lips moving to the bare skin on your shoulder. “And if we have to go through this a hundred more times, we will. We’re in this together, okay?”

You nodded, the knot in your chest loosening, replaced with something warm and steadfast. Hope didn’t feel so far out of reach.

“Tomorrow, we’re booking an appointment with the best therapist in Charleston. We’ll find someone who can help, okay? Someone who can give you the support you need.”

The sincerity in his voice brought fresh tears to your eyes. It felt like an embrace, even though he hadn’t moved further.

“You can do this, baby. You’re my tough girl, remember?” He whispered, his hand running up and down in a soothing rhythm on your back as he pressed a kiss to your lips.

#rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron oneshot #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron x you

450 notes · View notes

hgfictionwriter · 2 months ago

Text

Discovery: Part Two

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie's nervous about a date at your apartment. Despite enjoying the evening and a chance to talk, she's left with lingering doubts about how to handle your evolving relationship.

Warnings: G!P content. Body image issues or even dysphoria; mental and emotional anxiety; internal conflicts; themes of self-acceptance. Reluctant gaslighting??

A/N: Thank you all for the interest in this piece. Still heavy on the angst here. Things will move more significantly in the next chapter. First chapter is here.

"Hey, for Saturday I was thinking of making us reservations at that new place on Greenwood. What do you think?"

"That sounds nice. But I was thinking maybe you could just come over instead. I'll make us dinner. We've been going out a lot and while it's fun to check out new places and it's sweet of you to plan all these dates, I miss our chill nights in."

A pit formed in Jessie's stomach upon reading your message. It was inevitable, really. You two couldn't have an entire relationship outside of your apartments. In fact, this whole going out every week thing was draining for her, but it was the lesser evil compared to hanging out at either of your places and what would, eventually, follow.

She ran a hand through her hair with a sigh.

"Yeah, sure. That's fine." She paused, staring at the message before exhaling in frustration. What a lackluster response. She deleted it.

What you were offering was legitimately what she wanted. She had the most fun when it was just you two, relaxed and in the comfort of your own homes. Just, now, there would be nothing relaxing about it. It would be coded with all sort of hints and allusions to something more now that you were dating. That tentative dance of will you, won't you, and when.

"That sounds great. What do you want me to bring?"

"Just yourself 😉"

Her shoulders slumped with a sigh. She should be excited. Instead, her mind ran rampant with thoughts and scenarios, each one more concerning than the last.

Through the rest of the week, she couldn't quite shake that weight in the pit of her stomach. Sometimes she forgot about it, but as soon as she had space to think or rest, worry came rushing back.

"Still want me to come over?"

Jessie hit send though she was standing at her bike already, helmet on and ready to go. And it's not like she wanted you to cancel. She really wanted to see you, but she was so torn.

"Yes lol. Of course I do. Been looking forward to it all week!"

Her chest panged and another text came through.

"Do you want to do something else?"

Now she really felt bad.

"No, no. Just checking. Just about to hop on my bike. I'll be over soon, then 😊"

"Sounds good. Ride safe."

Jessie's heart was racing as she shifted anxiously from one foot to the next as she rode the elevator up to your apartment. She looked down at the bouquet of flowers she picked up along the way and shook out a hand as she let her head fall back and she stared vacantly up at the ceiling.

"Calm down," she said to herself.

Soon, she stood tentatively in front of your door, hand poised to knock. She stood there frozen for a second before she brought her knuckles to the door. She fidgeted with the straps of her helmet and the paper around the bouquet as she waited.

A few seconds later the door opened to reveal your smiling face. Despite how she was feeling a second ago, the veil of worry that weighed on her dissipated upon seeing you. She couldn't help but smile back.

"Come in," you said cheerfully as you waved her inside before your eyes fell to the flowers. Distracted by seeing you, Jessie momentarily forgot about them and glanced down to follow your gaze.

"Oh," she voiced in belated realization before she smiled brightly and held them out. "For you."

You gave a wide smile and took them from her, smelling them and smiling once more before wrapping her up in a hug.

Her grip around you was slack to begin with, but when you held her tightly she found herself reciprocating. Her chest tightened as she held you close; she really missed you and it was a relief to hold you in her arms again. She felt herself relaxing a touch.

When you pulled your head away from her, you two locked eyes.

"I missed you," you said. Jessie felt a small blush forming and she gave you a coy smile.

"I missed you, too."

Her eyes closed as you gently closed in and soon your lips were on hers. It was chaste and sweet, but it sent a shiver down her spine and she couldn't help smiling into the kiss. Her heart warmed as she opened her eyes to see you smiling affectionately at her as your hand came to her cheek and gave her other a peck.

"Okay, let's get inside. And thank you for these, they're beautiful," you said as you ushered her in and closed the door. "Gosh. It feels like you haven't been over in ages. I guess you haven't - not since we started dating."

"Yeah," Jessie agreed with a faint laugh as she scratched the back of her head, nervousness starting to creep back in. She tried to remain relaxed as you stood close to her.

"Make yourself at home. Dinner should be ready soon."

Jessie followed you with her eyes as you returned to the kitchen and found a home for the flowers. She was lost in her thoughts before shaking her head out.

"Can I help with anything?"

You looked around briefly with the cutest frown on your face before giving a shrug.

"I guess you can get some plates and cutlery out."

She did so, carefully laying everything out before returning to the kitchen and standing awkwardly waiting for further instructions.

"Go sit down," you laughed as you shooed her away.

"No, let me help you," she insisted, a smile finding its way onto her lips, your mannerisms infectious.

You placed your hands on your hips and cocked your head at her. "Fine. Go get me these things," you unlocked your phone and handed it to her with a recipe on screen. You nodded to the pantry cupboard. "The shaker's in there. I saw this on a mixology account I follow and wanted to make us some tonight."

"Oh," Jessie voiced as she looked at the drink recipe. "Tequila?"

"Don't tell me you're scared of a shot of tequila," you teased lightly. "I thought some of you varsity athletes partied hard - especially in LA."

"Yeah, some," she emphasized as she scanned the cupboard for the items.

"You don't have to drink anything if you don't want to," you added. She gave you a fleeting look over her shoulder before returning with the supplies.

"It's fine," she said. "I'll try it."

It's not that she never drank, she enjoyed a relaxing beverage as much as the next person, but alcohol seemed like a dangerous thing given her current circumstances. However, perhaps it would take the edge off.

She started measuring out ingredients into the shaker and sealed it before shaking it all together. You looked back and gave her a not-so-subtle look of appreciation as your eyes fell to her biceps. You even reached out and gave her nearest arm a brief squeeze.

"Oh," you said with a quick raise of your eyebrows, a hint of a smile at the corner of your mouth before you turned away. Jessie blushed under your attention.

"For you," she announced after she poured out the drinks and handed you your glass.

She smiled softly as you cheers each other and took a sip. You both immediately winced and she started coughing at the overwhelming taste of alcohol.

"Shit," Jessie coughed, her eyes started to water.

You burst into laughter, but took another tentative sip.

"They are not joking with these drinks. Either that or you're heavy handed," you teased.

"I measured!" She insisted.

The drink certainly took the edge off for Jessie. By the time you were done dinner and settled into watching a movie together, her body was void of tension and her head still felt a bit light.

It wasn't long before fleeting pangs of concern started to edge in though. You two had watched shows and hung out on the couch together before, that wasn't the big deal, but as Jessie became acutely aware of your hand brushing up against hers, she found herself fidgeting lightly. She cleared her throat.

She tried to view you out of the corner of her eye and got the sense you were doing the same. Eventually, you took charge and slipped your fingers between hers, giving her hand a light squeeze. She turned and gave you a tight smile that caused your cheeks to grow flush.

While you'd both been quietly watching the movie, now you started to talk - making comments about the movie or other things. She responded softly as you chatted, cluing in that you were nervous and trying to distract to some degree. Soon, your clasped hands were resting on Jessie's thigh as you leaned into her, eventually resting your head on her shoulder.

Her heart started to pound with increasing intensity in her chest. She cursed inwardly. This shouldn't be a big fucking deal. She wanted to cuddle with you. She wanted to put her arm around you and pull you close. But it was the possibility of what would follow that had her wary.

She completely lost track of the movie, fully preoccupied with what to do. She was so conflicted. You drew small circles on her thigh and at one point laid a soft kiss on her shoulder. She cast her worries aside and lifted her arm to wrap around your shoulders. A rush of affection went through her as she caught the smile on your face as you cuddled in.

If she hadn't forgotten about the movie earlier, it was certainly forgotten now as you grew more handsy. Jessie tried to not appear affected, but her body was so tense in apprehension; she just didn't know how to relax.

When your lips suddenly made soft, sweet contact with her neck. Her free hand dug into the underside of her leg as she fought to remain indifferent. Your lips were sensual and teasing, your breath hot on her neck and she could feel sensations building within her and threatening to spill over. When your tongue grazed the sensitive skin of her neck she instinctively jerked away, fully breaking away from the embrace. She'd done it before she even realized it. An apologetic frown etched onto her face already before even seeing you.

That pit in her stomach hit deeper than ever when she saw the hurt and embarrassed look on your face, even if it was just for a second before you quickly masked it.

"Sorry," you said with a forced smile and a breathy laugh.

"No, I-" Jessie stammered, struggling to find her words. Her thoughts were a jumbled mess and she could just picture the pathetic look she was giving you. You forced another chuckle and tucked your hair behind your ear self-consciously.

"No, no. I'm sorry. Must be that heavy pour," you faintly joked, forcing a fleeting look. You straightened your posture and seemed to recenter yourself. You looked to her, earnest. "I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have pushed. I think I just-" you paused, collecting your thoughts, "I think I just thought you were being, I don't know, really...chivalrous? Or just shy. I don't know." Your face fell briefly before offering her a brave, half-hearted smile. "You clearly want to take it slow, and I should respect that. I do respect that."

Jessie turned to you, shifting on the couch to face you more fully.

"Hey, don't apologize. Seriously. It's completely okay," she assured you. You looked far from comforted, so she reached out and took your hands. Your grip was nearly non-existent until she gave you a squeeze and you mustered up a soft smile and squeezed back.

"Y-yeah, I do want to take things slow, and it doesn't help that I'm super awkward and shy," she said self-deprecatingly. "But please don't feel bad. I'm just...I'm awkward."

You made a slight face at her.

"I made you uncomfortable," you countered.

"I liked it," Jessie said, and it was absolutely true. "I just," she looked away briefly as she found her words, "I just want you to know that I'm interested in more than just physical with you." That wasn't a lie either.

You frowned deeply and your mouth quirked up in a smirk. "I think I sorted that out," you said somewhat flatly. You seemed to contemplate your words, choosing to move forward. "You know. After going on five dates and having barely kissed."

Jessie could feel her face start to heat up and her mouth felt dry. While she struggled to figure out what to say, you scratched at the back of your neck and spoke further.

"I don't know. Maybe it's in my head. You seem less comfortable with me now than before we started dating." You relaxed your shoulders, taking a breath as you sat straight and gave her an earnest smile. "I really like you, Jessie. And I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable, at all, so. If there's something I'm doing that's making you feel like that - you know, other than trying to make out with you unprompted-" you rolled your eyes, "please tell me. I don't want to push you away."

Jessie's jaw was clenched hard and she didn't realize her fingers were digging into her palms. She hated that she was making you feel this way and making you doubt yourself, and her.

"Y/N," she said your name imploringly, "I really like you, too. Please believe me. I really, really do." She searched your eyes, hating the hurt and uncertainty she'd sparked in you. Her shoulders fell and she thumbed the back of your hands softly. "I haven't dated in a long time. I don't really know what I'm doing. And I think I'm just in my head. I don't want to mess things up with you."

Your gaze softened and you gave her hands a light squeeze.

"You're not messing anything up. And, it's good that we're talking this through. I think that's really good and I'm grateful for it," you told her and she nodded readily.

"Hey," she said softly as she shuffled in closer to you. "I really like you. Please don't doubt that. Even if I'm being stupid. Thank you for being patient with me."

You gave a faint frown. "You don't need to thank me. Nor are you stupid."

"Mm, I'm kind of dumb," she said as she gave you a comical expression. You chuckled, but frowned further. She smiled at you. "I have this gorgeous, incredible girlfriend and I'm getting so stuck in my head that I'm making her think I don't feel the same way about her as she does about me."

You rolled your eyes briefly, but looked at her in thanks nonetheless.

"You're not dumb."

"Mm," she voiced further as she slowly leaned in. She whispered, "I kind of am," before her lips met yours in a soft, lingering kiss. Though you reciprocated, it was passive. Tentative.

Jessie kissed you anew, deepening it. Something she hadn't initiated before. Your reaction was delayed. She could almost feel the confusion and hesitation, but she stayed the course. Her hand came up to the side of your face, her thumb caressing your cheekbone and she kissed you more. You met her briefly, but paused, your hand coming up to her cheek, your forehead resting against hers as you broke the kiss.

"Wait - we don't have to do this," you said, opening your eyes and looking at her.

"I want to," she assured you as she kissed you again. And she did want it. And she didn't want her fear and apprehension to control her.

This time, you returned her kiss fully. Whereas all of the kisses between you two had been relatively tame and mild, now, with Jessie opening up just so, things were heating up quickly.

Kisses deepened and grew hungrier, breathing was heavier; soft, subtle moans starting, and hands began to wander.

Jessie was immersed in the moment, in you, before a tightening sensation in her pants brought reality crashing back down upon her.

Her eyes shot open and she became keenly aware of your hand drifting up her thigh. She cleared her throat and did her best to gently pull back without it seeming too abrupt. She forced a smile as your eyes belatedly drifted open and you blinked at her, confusion settling on your brow. She shifted away, positioning her body as best she could to conceal the bulge that was threatening to reveal itself.

"That was really nice," she said, trying to somehow feign that the make out session had reached its natural end.

"Um, yeah," you said slowly, a subtle frown still on your face and Jessie could see your mind trying to process what happened. You eventually offered a smile of your own. "Yeah. That was nice," you reciprocated. Your eyes studied her.

"Do you want something to drink?" Jessie asked as she got up from the couch and turned her back to you, already retreating to the kitchen. She released an inaudible sigh of relief as she rounded the counter and out of your view. She opened your fridge and glanced down. She ground her teeth together upon seeing the bulge in her pants.

"Fuck," she mouthed, upset with herself.

She peeked up over the fridge door to look at you again. You were looking vacantly at the wall before you realized she was watching you. Your expression immediately brightened and you gave a small shake of your head.

"I'm okay, thank you."

Guilt washed over her again.

The night wore on and though you both cuddled and it was less awkward than before, there were still hints of unspoken tension. That aside, it was a nice evening and Jessie was glad to have this alone time with you. It was just different than being out together.

At some point, you were both stifling yawns. She was keenly aware of the time and knew another key point in the night was fast approaching.

"If I'm exhausted, I can't imagine how tired you must be," you said as you covered your mouth as another yawn forced itself up. "You just got back into town on Monday, training all week, game yesterday and now today."

"I'm good," Jessie dismissed, despite the yawn yours pulled out of her. "But I should probably go."

You watched her quietly for a moment, before giving a nonchalant shrug.

"It's really late. I don't want you to have to bike home at this hour. Why don't you just spend the night?"

Jessie was shaking her head already and stood up by the time you were even done speaking. She waved off your offer.

"It's totally fine," she assured you.

"Babe," you beseeched, giving her pause. It still caused a small flutter in her chest when you called her that. She faltered, rubbing the side of her face briefly. You rose. "I can sleep on the couch," you offered and she shot you a withering look.

"Babe," she reciprocated. "You would never sleep on the couch on my watch. I would take the couch."

You didn't respond immediately and Jessie felt like you were going to say something else, instead saying, "Well, offer still stands. I really would rather you not go home this late."

She was tempted. God, she was so tempted. Again, it ate her up that you were paying for all of the baggage she now carried. In another time, she would've gladly taken you up on the offer. Hell, you two probably would've slept together by now - assuming you wanted to. She'd certainly dreamt of it enough and you seemed keen to move things forward. Instead...

"Thanks baby. But it's okay. Really. I'll text you when I get home." She tried to ignore the expression that flashed across your face before you gave a small smile of resignation.

"Be safe," you warned.

She put on her shoes, grabbed her helmet and jacket, but was fully distracted with how quiet you'd become. She put on a bright smile for you.

"Thank you for an amazing night," she said as she wrapped your arms around your waist. You reciprocated, wrapping your arms around the back of her neck, but you hesitated for just a moment. It was subtle, but Jessie noticed it. She gave you a kiss in hopes of bridging whatever thoughts you were having.

"Thanks for being okay just staying in. I enjoyed it," you said once you pulled back. Your gaze flicked away and a faint smirk crossed your face. You looked back to her, your cheeks growing rosy. "I swear I didn't invite you over just to try to make out with you or to try to convince you to spend the night." You shrugged. "I just like spending time just the two of us at home. It's more relaxed." Jessie nodded.

"I know. Me too," she agreed. Her tactic of booking dates around town had expired; she'd have to let it go. She gave you an encouraging smile. "We can do this more often."

"Okay," you accepted with a nod. You gave her another quick kiss. "Well, you better go."

"Okay," she said. She started to thumb the small of your back and stopped immediately. "Goodnight." She stepped out of your embrace and opened the door, taking a step out into the hall before pausing and turning back. "Raincheck on spending the night?"

Your smile reached your eyes this time. You nodded. "Of course."

A/N: Forgot a couple of folks asked to be tagged. @multifandomlesbianic @marvelwomen-simp

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #canwnt x reader #wlw fiction #wlw angst

437 notes · View notes

improbable-outset · 4 months ago

Text

📄 𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐅𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲

Kenji Sato x Fem!Reader

𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐔𝐥𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.8k (barely proof read </3)

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Wife and Pregnant!Reader, angst…like heavy angst, family issues (Kenji’s daddy issues, shocker), emotional breakdown, crying, Reader has a small accident (she’s in her third trimester), somewhat satisfying ending….

𝐀/𝐍: *grabs your shirt and looks at you dead in the eye* girl, if you knew how much I busted my ass for this fic—

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: While Kenji grapples with the pressure of becoming a father, he receives an unexpected invite from his own.

Kenji sat still on the couch with the latest images of the ultrasound staring back at him in his hands. His finger traced over the picture, lingering on the tiny form of the baby.

Despite the due date being a couple of months away, he still couldn’t fully grasp the reality of soon becoming a father. Each kick and shift he would feel from your growing stomach was a reminder of the new life that would soon be dependent on him.

He felt a series of emotions— anticipation, a hint of anxiety, but most of all, excitement. Kenji’s mind wandered to the future, imagining the day when he would hold his baby for the first time.

For a long time, he had always adopted the ‘cross the bridge when I get there’ mindset, never fully prepared for the far future. But the moment you told him you were pregnant, his fatherly instincts already took over his mind— it had been a messy journey for the both of you, adjusting to this new chapter in your marriage.

You, sensing his preoccupation, gave him a look; a signal he had come to recognise as a precursor to important news.

But, that was only the beginning. A boulder dropped in a pail of stagnant water, creating ripples that disrupted the quiet flow of your lives

“Don’t be mad,” you said cautiously. Kenji felt skeptical about what you were going to say— his eyes scanned your face, trying to gauge what was coming.

“What did you do?” he said slowly. Usually, when you would say this, it would be something minor, like misplacing his best baseball bat or rearranging his meticulously organised items. Anything that was easily fixable.

But what you said next felt like the rug had been pulled out from beneath him.

“I invited your dad over.”

He froze in his seat. For a moment, he didn’t say anything as he struggled to process your words.

His dad? Coming over?

Nothing could have prepared him for that. He hadn’t spoken to that man in years, and now, all of a sudden he wanted to come over. What was his motivation?

“Why did you invite him?” he asked, trying to conceal his frustration.

“He tried to call through Mina. I couldn’t ignore him.”

Kenji swallowed thickly, clenching his fist slightly “And when exactly is he coming?”

“Tonight.”

Kenji just pinched the bridge of his nose, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. There was no point wasting time arguing, especially when his father was due in a few hours. “Yeah, okay, fine. He can come over, I guess,”

“Are you mad?” You asked. His expression softened. He could never be mad at you. He knew this day would come eventually. He just didn’t expect it to be now, with a baby on the way. Maybe that was why his father wanted to come over.

“No, no. I’m not mad.” He cradled your face reassuringly. “Just a little annoyed, but I’ll be fine. He can come. I’ll greet him and then I’ll stay in our room until he leaves.”

Your face dropped in disappointment. “What?”

“Exactly as I said.” Kenji didn’t know what you were expecting from this. For him to reconcile with his father after years of silence? What a joke. “I’m not gonna sit with that guy for hours while he’s here.”

“That’s not how I imagined things would go.” Your face fell further, giving him a sullen look, hoping to coax him into changing his perspective.

“What did you expect me to do? Sit there for hours and make small talk?” Kenji scoffed. “Do you know how long it’s been since I last talked to him?”

He felt he was already being courteous by allowing his father inside. That was more than enough. He didn’t owe him anything else.

“He might help you with being a dad and give you some advice.”

Kenji almost laughed at that. Oh, the irony. His father was the last person to give him parenting advice. “No. I don’t need his advice. I can figure this out on my own. Don’t you understand?”

The rest of the day flew by, and the evening rolled in quicker than Kenji anticipated. Each hour that passed knotted the tension in his chest, making it harder to breathe properly.

Soon, there was an alert of a visitor outside the Ultrabase. Kenji let out a tired sigh, “I’ll…I’ll answer it.”

He rose from the bed and padded his way to the front door. His mind was a mess, and he didn’t know what to expect. He took a few deep breaths to calm his erratic heart before finally opening the door.

Kenji’s mood immediately soured when he finally made eye contact with his father. Seeing him for the first time in years sent an icy feeling through him.

“Dad…” he greeted, keeping his voice controlled.

“Kenji…it’s been a while, son.” Hayao said cautiously. Kenji towered over his father’s frame, noticing the crutches beside him. Despite the height difference, Hayao seemed smaller and more vulnerable with his old age

If the situation were different, Kenji would have only opened the door enough to fit his head out, blocking his father’s view of the inside. In fact, he might have not answered the door at all. He wouldn’t have allowed him access back into life. To keep that chasm between father and son.

But he knew that you were expecting him, so he opened the door wider and stood to the side to make room. “I suppose you should come in.”

Just as expected, you were standing beside him, waiting patiently to finally meet the unsolicited guest.

“Professor Sato.” You gave your warmest smile.

Hayao turned his attention to you as he stepped further into your house. This was the first time you saw each other face to face since he hadn’t attended the wedding. If only the situation didn’t feel so stiff, Kenji would’ve been thrilled for you to meet his dad.

He watched his father’s gaze shift to your growing belly as you rested your hands on it. Kenji’s protective instinct flared.

“Ah, hello dear. I must say, you are positively glowing.” Hayao complimented.

“I’m sorry for the short invite.”

“Oh no, it’s alright. I can tell I’ve come unannounced…but the sooner I see my grandchild, the better.”

His grandchild? The possessive pronoun left a bitter taste in Kenji’s mouth. It stung that his father was now trying to insert himself into their lives.

“Just a few months to go,” you said, trying to maintain a calm tone. Hayao reached over to place his hand on your bump. Kenji’s first instinct was to swat his hand away and tell him not to touch his wife.

But he held himself back, and allowed you to handle the situation. You didn’t pull away and let Hayao feel the baby’s movements.

“And how is the baby doing? Kicking a lot…I assume?” Hayao asked.

“Yeah, they’re very active,” you replied with a light laugh.

“Ah, I can imagine the little one must be feisty.”

Kenji stood off to the side, silently observing the interaction. He hadn’t moved an inch from the doorway as his dad interacted with you so casually.

His face morphed into a bitter rage, not understanding why his father was acting so excited and caring about your child. They hadn’t spoken in years, and yet here he was, acting as if nothing had happened.

He was probably only doing it to avoid causing an uncomfortable scene in front of you, much to Kenji’s relief. The last thing he wanted was to drag you into his family issues.

Hayao spoke again, completely oblivious to Kenji’s inner turmoil, “Any idea on the sex yet?”

You shook your head, still holding your excited expression. You didn’t have anyone to share the news with, so Kenji couldn’t blame you for your giddiness. “We wanted to keep it a surprise.”

Kenji clenched his jaw. He didn’t like the way Hayao was observing your growing belly. “You know, you remind me of my wife when she was pregnant. She always had a glow, even at the last phase.”

Kenji felt like he had just been dunked in a tub of ice. It hadn’t even been a minute, and already his father is bringing up his mother. But what his father said next did not sit right with him.

“I have some experience in the field of pregnancy. Some challenges might come up. But don’t worry, I’m here to help any way I can.”

No thanks.

“Thank you.” You said, your gratitude seemed genuine. “Uhm, do you want to take a seat? I’ll bring some tea,”

“Yes, thank you, dear.” Hayao smiled and sat down on one of the couches, making himself comfortable. His eyes flickered back at Kenji who hadn't said a word yet. “Actually, do you mind if I speak with Kenji for a few minutes in private?”

“Of course. I’ll get the tea ready,” you left before disappearing in the kitchen, leaving Kenji alone with his father.

The floor felt like hot coal. So much for escaping his dad’s presence in the bedroom. Hayao waited until you were out of sight before he turned to face Kenji.

“I’m glad you didn’t walk out the second I showed up. Your wife is very kind…” He paused, waiting to see if Kenji would say anything. He gave no response, so Hayao asked, “Can we talk? Just the two of us?”

“What do you want to talk about, Dad?”

“I want to talk about us. You and I. We’ve been…distant for a long time,”

That was putting it lightly, but Kenji held his tongue. His father was probably already aware of that.

“Dad…it’s been twenty years. Twenty years of you suddenly becoming distant from us. You never were around when Mom and I needed you,”

Twenty years. To his father, it might seem like just a fraction of his life, given his old age— a couple of decades.

But to Kenji, those two decades were everything. It was enough time for him to nearly erase his father from his thoughts entirely.

“I know it’s been a long time, but I’m here now, trying to make amends and make up for lost time.”

“Amends? You can’t just show up and expect everything to be fine, Dad. Do you think you can mend everything with just some apologies and small talk?”

“I know it won't fix everything. But I want to be a part of your life again, especially now with my grandchild on the way,”

“So that’s what it’s about? You’re only here because of the baby. Where were you when I was growing up? Why did you stay in Japan and leave me and Mom in America?”

“I always thought about you, Kenji. Always keep an eye on you from afar.” Hayao said gently. “But I admit, the thought of becoming a grandparent has made me realise the importance…the importance of family.”

If he kept an eye on him from afar, why couldn’t he be there in person? Why wasn’t he l there face-to-face, especially when it mattered most? Why wait twenty years?

Hayao continued. “I want to make it up to you, be there for you and for your child.”

Kenji stayed silent after that. The conversation wasn't going anywhere, and there were many unresolved issues that needed to be addressed if any real progress was to be made.

His mind was conflicted with his warring thoughts. One one hand, there was a lingering fear about letting his father in which will lead to further disappointment and pain.

On the other hand, despite harboring a deep resentment towards his father, there was a small part of him that hoped that this might be a chance to heal old wounds.

“Kenji! Can you help me with the tea please?” Your voice tore through the suspension in the room, making Kenji’s suffocation disappear.

“Yeah, coming,” he called back, casting one last glance at his father before heading to the kitchen, leaving the tension in the living room behind.

Kenji found you attending the water on the stove with a teapot and three mugs on a tray. Being in the kitchen with you, away from his father felt like a breath of fresh air— the tension in his shoulders ebbed away, replaced by the comforting normalcy of being alone with you.

“Soo…how’s it going?” you asked, turning to look at him.

“It’s…going I guess.” Kenji sighed deeply. “Talking to my dad is harder than I thought it would be.” He hadn’t fully grasped how many old wounds will be torn open just from his father's presence alone.

“Kenji.” Your voice softened. Kenji's gaze fixated on the hand that was resting on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart.

He brought his hand to hold yours as if anchoring himself. “Yeah…?”

“I know it’s tough, especially with your mom not being around anymore. And I know I don’t know the full story of your childhood and your pain…but he’s the only family we have.”

“Yeah, I know but it’s not easy. It’s hard to trust him when he hasn't been around for twenty years.”

“Do you think you could give him a chance?” You paused for a moment before you added, “If not for yourself, then at least for the baby. I really want them to know their grandparents,” you pleaded, your voice laced with hope.

Kenji closed his eyes as he processed your words. The thought of rebuilding a relationship with his father seems like an insurmountable task, a risk he wasn’t sure he could take.

But, he knew how important this was for you, especially with your parents not around anymore. You wanted the baby to have a connection with their family, which also meant including everyone.

He opened his eyes to see you looking back up at him, waiting patiently for his response. It took a few seconds for him to trust himself to answer, “I…I’ll try, for you and the baby. But honestly, no promises.”

“That’s all I want to hear.” you said, your smile warm and comforting, “I love you…”

Kenji’s heart soared at that, and he wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you closer. “I love you too.”

You leaned closer until your lips captured his. Kenji felt his world stop the moment he felt your lips. He tilted his head to deepen the kiss.

After a moment, he pulled his lips away but he still held you close, resting his forehead on yours. A hint of a smile tugged on his lips but his voice didn’t hide the vulnerability he was feeling, “I’ll try and hear him out, but I know it’s not gonna be a walk in the park.”

There was so much more he wanted to say, but he kept it to himself, instead turning his attention to helping you in the kitchen. He took over brewing the tea, carefully pouring it into the teapot. He made sure not to accidentally jostle you while he set up the tray.

“Thanks for being patient with me, and for understanding. I know I can be a pain in the ass sometimes.” Kenji murmured, his voice carrying his gratitude.

“Thank you for not being mad at me for answering his call,” you replied. You were trying to be lighthearted, but he could sense the underlying concern— there was no doubt that you were anxious about how he’d react to the news about his dad

“How can I be mad at you for that? I know you meant well. You just want what’s best for our family.”

“He kept calling, I couldn’t ignore him.”

“I know, you’re too kind for your own good sometimes, you know that.” He smiled, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “But seriously, you gotta stop answering unknown calls. Never know who’s on the other line.”

You laughed softly before placing the teapot on the tray. “Do you think I should make anything else?”

Kenji glanced back at the tray with the mugs and the teapot. “Nah, I think what you’ve got is plenty. The old man probably had enough caffeine today anyways.”

“Do you want me to go with you this time?”

Kenji nodded. He knew that having you there with him would make the conversation with his dad easier, especially when he felt on edge. “Yeah, let’s go. And if it gets too much, just squeeze my hand, okay?

Carrying the tray, Kenji felt his nerves calming as you walked beside him. Your quiet support was a steady force, and with your presence, he felt ready to face whatever conversation awaited in the living room.

He matched his steps to yours, moving slowly and carefully so you wouldn’t fall behind. The moment you stepped into the living room, Hayao straightened up, glancing back at your growing belly— which didn't escape Kenji’s notice.

He set the tray down on the table and took a seat on the couch, deliberately keeping his distance from his father.

“I hope green tea is okay for you,” you said, pouring the tea into Hayao’s cup before filling the other two mugs for yourself and Kenji.

Hayao nodded politely, steam curling from the rim as he picked up the cup with the freshly brewed tea. “Yes, thank you. Green tea is fine, I appreciate your hospitality,”

Kenji took his cup and leaned back against the couch, watching the exchange between you and his father. He was grateful the conversation wasn’t circling back to him. Right now, he needed a break from the emotional push and pull.

He kept his expression guarded, making no attempt to interrupt or intervene between the two of you, though he couldn’t ignore the swirl of conflicted emotions simmering beneath the surface.

“So…I hope you don’t mind me being here now,” you said sheepishly.

“No it’s not a bother. This tea is lovely, by the way. Thank you.”

“Of course. It’s all homemade,”

“Ah, that explains why it’s good. My son is very lucky indeed,” Hayao said. Kenji could pick up on the hesitation in his father’s voice, as if he was carefully choosing each word, trying to not overstep.

But the simple topic of your homemade tea seemed to have thawed some of the ice. Hayao took another sip from his cup, his eyes on you as you continued the small talk.

“How are you feeling, though? I imagine pregnancy isn’t easy on the body,”

“Well…I would be a mess without Kenji.” You admitted, taking his hand and lacing your fingers with his. Kenji’s heart throbbed at the gesture.

The ice melted further.

He felt you squeeze his hands softly, a silent nudge to encourage him to join the conversation. He steeled himself before he found his voice. “She’s just being modest. She’s been braving through morning sickness, swollen feet, and all the cravings like a champion,”

“That does sound like a journey. You have a strong woman there, Kenji.��

“Yeah, I know, and I’m grateful everyday.” The pride in his voice was palpable, filling the space between them. Even Hayao could feel it from where he was sitting.

“I can see that. Your mother would be very proud to see the man you’ve become.”

And just like that, the ice quickly solidified again.

The words struck Kenji like a blow, his grip tightening around his mug. The pressure in his chest increased as the mention of his mother stirred memories he wasn’t ready to confront.

He swallowed hard, forcing himself to keep his voice controlled. “Dad…don’t,” he managed, his tone a mixture of warning and plea.

Hayao noticed the shift immediately, but he didn’t backpedal from the subject. There was a hint of remorse in his eyes, with his voice gentle but firm. “I know it’s a sensitive topic, Kenji. But I meant what I said. She would be proud of the family you’re building right now.”

He couldn’t deny the truth in his dads words, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. The pain was still raw. The topic was still too heavy for him to fully address at the moment.

“I…I need some air,” he muttered, rising abruptly from the couch. The connection between your hands broke, leaving your fingers grasping at empty space.

“Kenji…” you called after him, your voice laced with concern. Your hand looked empty without his. Kenji quickly teared his gaze away.

“I need a moment. I’ll be back,” the words came out more rushed than intended.

A hint of guilt tugged in his heart as he left without another word. He pushed past the door with the cool night air slapped against his face. The door closed behind him with a solid thud, the sound echoing in the sudden silence he left behind.

Kenji slumped onto one of the cold stone benches in the courtyard, dropping his head in his palms. As much as he hated to admit it, he really wished his mother was here right now. She would know exactly what to say, how to untangle the knot of emotions tightening in his chest.

Since the day of her disappearance, it felt like a piece of him had been ripped away, leaving a gaping void that nothing could fill. His entire world had darkened, but he forced himself to continue living, driven by a demanding career that wouldn’t allow him to pause, even when his heart was breaking.

And then things got more complicated. He had been thrusted back into Japan, not by choice but by obligation, to take up his father’s mantle as Ultraman. It was a role he never asked for, a burden he wasn’t ready to carry, especially not with the unresolved pain of his mother’s absence still weighing down on him.

But then he met you.

For the first time, he allowed himself to be swept away by someone who truly saw him, not just the hero or the star baseball player he was expected to be. You didn’t realise it, but you had a way of pulling him back from the edge. He wished he could tell you how much that meant to him, but he was never good at expressing it.

Now, with a child on the way— his child, who you were carrying and nurturing— he felt more helpless than ever. How could a baby rely on him when he couldn’t even keep his own emotions in check? How could he be a father when he crumbled at the mere mention of his mother?

The soft sound of the door opening could be heard from behind, but Kenji didn’t bother to look up. He knew it was you. His father wouldn’t be so thoughtless as to follow him after what had just happened.

“Kenji?” you called out softly, your footsteps growing closer. Kenji didn’t respond, his face still buried in his palm.

“Oh, Ken…” you teased gently, trying to lighten the mood. Kenji let out a weary sigh but didn’t look up.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with Dad?” His voice came out rough, his irritation from earlier still simmering.

You sat down beside him, the bench cool beneath you. “No…not with you feeling like this,”

Kenji’s shoulders tensed, still refusing to meet your gaze. He was trembling slightly, trying to keep his emotions at bay.

“I’m fine.” he said through gritted teeth, an obvious contradiction to his current state.

“Not with that tone, you’re not.”

“And so what if I’m not fine? What’s it to you anyways?” He snapped, his voice sharp like a razor blade. He regretted it immediately, hating himself for directing his frustration at you. You didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of his messy relationship with his father.

But you could see right through his bullshit, as always. “Come here.” you coaxed, your voice soft and inviting. Kenji hesitated, his eyes flickered up to yours for the first time. He saw the warmth in your gaze that seemed to glow even under the darkness of the night with your open arms waiting to embrace him.

For a moment, his stubbornness kept him rooted in place, his pride demanding to stay strong, stay distant. But the comfort you offered was too tempting.

He turned his gaze away. “Why should I?”

“Let me hold you.” you whispered, arms still open for him.

Kenji looked back at you again, feeling his resolve weaken. He knew he couldn’t resist you— not when you were offering him the solace he desperately craved. He’d be a fool to reject it. With a heavy sigh, he gave in.

“Fine…” he shifted himself closer until he was in your embrace. He rested his head against your chest, his body relaxed as your warmth surrounded him.

The soft curve of your pregnancy bump nestled between the two of you, a reminder of the life brewing inside of you.

“Oh Kenji…” you murmured, gently stroking his face as he nuzzled into your neck. The rhythm of your heartbeat and the presence of the baby’s bump had a grounding effect on him. You felt like home— everything he needed right now.

The remorse from his earlier harsh tone towards you, combined with the aching absence of his mother, came crashing down. It was enough to shatter his pride as he leaned into your touch.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, his voice quivering with emotion.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” you rubbed his back, soothing his frying nerves.

He didn’t realise how stiff his body was until he finally allowed him to relax in your embrace. It was rare for him to be this vulnerable, but being held like this in your arms, it was easy to let his guard down.

All the pent up pain and suffering he’d been carrying for years finally found release through his tears. He let out a soft sob against your neck, the fabric of your shirt growing damp.

After a long, quiet moment, you spoke again, “This is going to be more complicated than I imagined.”

“It’s all so complicated,” he echoed.

“I know…do you think we can resolve things before the baby arrives?”

“I..I don’t think I can fix everything…not with all that’s happening. But I don’t want our child to grow up in a house filled with tension.” Kenji admitted slowly.

“Me neither,” you agreed, the shared concern binding you closer.

“I’ll try. I’ll try to fix things. But I don’t even know where to start…it’s been too long…” his voice wavered with the remnant of his sobs. Yet, for once, he didn’t feel embarrassed about it this time. The weight of responsibility to make things right for the baby was daunting.

You pressed a kiss to his forehead, filling him with a sense of reassurance. “We don’t have to fix everything tonight.”

“…you’re right.”

“But maybe we can at least end things on a civil note.”

Kenji nodded mutely, still feeling the residue of his tears but more at peace with his emotions now.

He pulled away from you and wiped his face with the back of his hands, smearing the last of his tears away.

“Are you okay with going back inside, or do you need more time?” You asked gently.

Kenji took a few steady breaths, his crying fully subsided. He met your gaze, then glanced back at the house, a newfound sense of resignation washing over him. “I’m okay…let’s head back,”

“Okay….We don’t want to keep you dad waiting any longer,”

Kenji stood from his seat and soothed his hair, trying to make himself look a little more presentable. He knew his eyes were probably red, and he might still look a bit disheveled from crying, but he was ready to face what came next.

You both walked back into the living room, hand in hand. Hayao looked up as you returned and sat down, his eyes briefly flickering over Kenji’s appearance.

Kenji was grateful his father didn’t comment on his puffy eyes.

“Sorry for the wait,” you said apologetically.

Hayao shook his head, a weary smile on his lips. “No need to apologise, dear. It needed to happen.”

Silence settled over the room for a moment. Kenji’s muscles were still rigid and his fingers subconsciously gripped your hand a little tighter.

Hayao gaze flickered between the two of you. He let out a quiet sigh, his action heavy with regret. “I suppose I should start, hm?”

Kenji nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Both of your gazes bore onto Hayao, waiting for what he was about to say.

“I…I know I haven’t been the best father to you, Kenji. I’ve been hard on you, too focused on Ultraman…I’ve put too much pressure on you and neglected everything else.” Hayao said softly, sadness evident in his eyes.

Kenji felt a jolt of surprise listening to his father. He didn’t let his guard down fully, but hearing his father’s self-awareness stirred something in him. Maybe it was the unexpected acknowledgment of his shortcomings as a parent.

Hayao continued, “Looking back, I realised I've made a lot of mistakes. I’ve been more of a boss than a father,”

Kenji felt the weight of his dads words, his remorse clear in his voice. But Kenji knew that years of tension and resentment couldn’t be fixed with just a few words of apology.

“I…don’t expect forgiveness, of course. I know I can’t turn back time, but I wanted to apologise to both of you.”

Kenji struggled to find the right words until he felt the reassuring grip of your hand, your thumb gently stroking over his knuckles. The small gesture helped calm some of the tension.

Finally, he spoke, his voice slightly strained, “I…I appreciate the apology, Dad. It’s a start.”

The rest of the conversation revolves around the future and the baby, with the interaction feeling more natural. The tension between Kenji and Hayao had eased somewhat.

At one point, Hayao asked about how Kenji planned to juggle his career, fatherhood and his Ultraman duties. Kenji explained that you’d both discussed this early in your marriage and were ready to handle the challenges.

But the conversation was cut short when you let out a sudden hiss from pain. Immediately, Kenji’s full attention was on you on high alert.

“Hey, you okay? What’s wrong?” His voice was calm, but his eyes betrayed his concern. When you didn’t respond right away, his worry deepened.

“Is it the baby kicking?” he asked.

You nodded, struggling to speak through the discomfort.

Kenji placed a hand on your shoulder, his voice soft but steady. “Easy, take a deep breath. The kicks might feel uncomfortable, but it’s a good sign the baby’s healthy.”

“Ah…Ken…ji…” you stuttered, the pain evident in your voice. His brows furrowed with worry, and instinctively rubbed circles over your belly.

“I’m here,” he reassured you. “Do you need anything? Water? Some more pillows?”

He almost forgot about his dad’s presence until he quickly stood from his seat and approached you. His expression was serious, his eyes flickering back to you and you bump.

“I’m going to get you a warm compress. It might help ease some of the discomfort,” Hayao said quickly, his voice still firm.

“Yeah…ah, okay.” You managed.

Hayao nodded and left the room to fetch the warm compress. Kenji stayed beside you, his hand squeezing yours gently. “Just hang in there okay? You’re doing great. We’re almost through the third trimester and it’ll all be worth it.”

“Kenji…”

His heart skipped a beat. “Is the pain getting worse?”

“I feel something wet,”

Kenji froze. You couldn’t possibly mean…? No. He had to ask if he heard that correctly.

“Wet? Are you sweating or…?” He let the rest of the sentence hang in the air. He didn’t want to think about your water breaking now, especially when you still had several weeks until your due date.

“Where’s Hayao?”

Kenji’s stress only deepened further when you didn’t answer his question. “Dad’s still getting the compress…are you sure you’re feeling something wet?”

“Yes.”

“Okay…don’t panic. We’ll figure this out. Do you feel any cramps or contractions?”

You shook your head. But there was still the matter of the wet sensation.

Kenji glanced towards the door, where his dad had disappeared. Whether he liked it or not, he really needed his dad right now— someone with experience, even if their relationship were strained.

He gazed back at you, his hands on your bump. “I think I peed…” you murmured, not meeting his eyes.

Kenji blinked in surprise, then his lips twitched up into a smile. The stress that had been coiled right within him unraveled almost instantly. Relief washed over him, and he felt a sudden urge to laugh at the situation.

It was such a normal, human moment— a reminder that despite the chaos, you were both still two people trying to navigate through this together.

“Oh, thank God. For a second I thought…” He shook his head, still smiling. “It’s okay, don’t worry. It happens sometimes during pregnancy, especially at this stage. Dad will be back with the compress for the kicks, alright? Just hang in there.”

“I feel gross,” you muttered, voice laced with frustration.

Kenji quickly shook his head immediately, his tone gentle and reassuring. “No, don’t say that. These things happen, it’s completely normal. You’re doing an amazing job.”

Just as he finished speaking, Hayao returned swiftly, the warm compress in his hand. “I’m back. What’s happening?”

Kenji’s gaze met his father’s, his expression stayed neutral, “She felt something wet, but she just accidentally peed herself a bit from the baby’s kicking,” Kenji explained. “She’s not experiencing any contractions, though.”

Too embarrassed to look up, you kept your head low, hiding your face behind your hands.

Hayao chuckled softly, his expression warm with understanding. “It’s okay, dear. Nothing to be embarrassed about.” Hayao stepped forward with the compress and settled beside you. He placed the compress over your bump, the warmth seeping through the fabric. “This should help alleviate the kicking, at least a little.”

Kenji watched as your face softened, the tension in your body visibly uncoiling. He smiled tenderly, “See? The compress is working, huh?” You’ll feel better in no time,”

“My clothes are soiled…” you whimpered.

“Don’t worry about that,” Hayao reassured you.“We’ll get you cleaned up once everything’s under control, okay? For now, just focus on resting and letting the compress its job,”

Kenji nodded in agreement, “Once the kicking settles down, we’ll get you cleaned up. A nice shower and a change of fresh, dry clothes will make you feel a lot better,”

Kenji’s mind drifted back to everything that had transpired in the past few minutes— from the moment you both stepped inside the house to now.

He couldn’t shake off the feeling of inadequacy that crept in him as he observed his father handling the situation so seamlessly. Despite his fathers help being a relief, it also stirred some doubt within him: Was he doing enough for you?

The man who has always been distant was now stepping in. Was his father silently judging him?

The mixed emotions were overwhelming. On one hand, Kenji was grateful— he wasn’t alone when caring for you. On the other, it was unsettling to have his father step into the role Kenji had felt it was his to bear.

Could this be a change in their relationship, or was this just a temporary reprieve from the years of coldness?

There was no point in overthinking, Kenji thought to himself. Forcing things to change between them could do more harm than good. For now, it was best to let things evolve on its own.

Once the kicking had subsided and you were feeling more comfortable, Kenji carefully helped you to the bathroom. He waited as you emptied your bladder, then gently guided you into the shower.

After you were dressed in fresh clothes, Kenji led you to the bedroom. He helped you onto the bed, making sure you were settled in the right position for comfort. Your eyelids grew heavy as you slowly fell asleep.

“Sleep well, sweet girl,” he whispered before planting a kiss on your forehead. He quietly left the room and closed the door behind him.

Outside he found his father waiting. The mere sight of him standing there brought back the knot of emotions Kenji had only just managed to unravel.

Kenji’s searched in his father’s expression for any hint of where things stood between them now. After a few heartbeats, Kenji opened his mouth to speak, his voice subdued.

“She’s asleep,” Kenji simply stated.

Hayao nodded, “That’s good, let her rest. She needs it after what happened tonight,”

Kenji exhaled, a heavy breath escaped him, “Yeah…I can’t help but worry for her. What if something serious had happened?”

Hayao’s tone was gentle as he replied, “I understand your worry. But she’s a strong one, and the baby is healthy. Trust in that, Kenji. She needs your support more than ever right now,”

Kenji knew his father was right, but his protective instincts that came with being both a husband and soon-to-be father made it difficult to fully ease his mind.

“You’re right, she is strong. I just…I just wish there was more I could do for her,” He glanced back at the door, thinking of you asleep inside. “I feel helpless sometimes, watching her go through all of this.”

Hayao placed his hand on Kenji’s shoulder, offering a reassuring squeeze. For once, Kenji didn’t feel the usual urge to flinch. Instead he welcomed the touch, finding an unexpected comfort in his father’s gestures.

“Believe me, I know how you feel. Watching the mother of your child go through pregnancy can be excruciating. But your support and your presence is the most important thing you can’t offer.”

This was something Kenji had never spoken about with anyone, not even with you. He kept his fear and doubts to himself, not wanting to burden you when you were focusing on nurturing the baby.

But now, standing with his father, he found himself opening up in a way he hadn’t anticipated.

But how ironic it was that he was comfortable enough to confide with his father— the same man that had once been a distant figure. But perhaps working together to ease your discomfort was what made things easier.

His father had been through this before, and likely, he had been just as uncertain and vulnerable. The realisation brought a surge of confidence in Kenji.

“I’ll be there for her,” Kenji said, more to himself than his father. “No matter what.”

A few hours later, Kenji got himself ready for bed, his body heavy with exhaustion. The day had been long and filled with unexpected turns, but finally, he could see the end of it. As he slid under the covers, he noticed you stirred, your eyes fluttering open.

Kenji smiled softly. “Hey, sleepyhead. You’re awake,” he murmured softly, reaching out to gently caress your cheek. “How are you feeling?”

You slowly sat up, rubbing some of the sleep from your eyes. “Groggy…” you muttered, your voice still thick with sleep.

Kenji chuckled softly. “Groggy, huh? Well you did sleep for a while. Take your time.” He leaned closer, his concern slipping back into his voice. “How’s the baby? Any more kicking?”

You shook your head slightly, stretching your arms above you with your belly arching as your body moved. “Not at the moment,” you said with a small sigh. “Has your dad left?”

“Yeah, he mentioned he had some important calls to make back home,” Kenji hesitated for a moment, “Why? Are you feeling okay? Do you need something from him?”

“No,” you replied. “I just wanted to know how are things with him now,”

Kenji sighed, ranking a hand through his hair. “Things between me and dad have been, well, better than before. We’re still working through some stuff, but tonight…was different.”

“You both make a good team, you know. The way you were both quick to attend to my aches,” you said softly.

Kenji smiled, feeling a swell of emotions at your words— mostly pride mingled with relief. “Thank you, sweetheart. Who knew a baby would bring us both together,” he rested his hands over your belly.

At that moment it dawned on him just how much the baby had done to bridge the gap between him and his father. This tiny unborn child had given them both a common purpose and a reason to put aside their differences and focused on what truly mattered.

You leaned against the pillows. “Come here,” you said, pulling him closer.

Kenji slipped further into the covers, his arms wrapped around you protectively. He pressed a kiss on your forehead, lingering there for a moment as he breathed in your comforting scent.

As you drifted back to sleep, Kenji held you close and ran his hand over your belly, his heart full.

He knew the road wasn’t going to be easy, but at that moment, he felt ready. If he could build a better relationship with his father, he felt like he could conquer anything, as long as you were by his side.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @gyusimp @aise-30 @popmagical @jellybonbons @coinduck

@rosaliin-blog @stfuchaase @blooscool @despacito-uwu16

Phew finally

Ayrus xoxo

#★— ayrus writes #ultraman #ultraman rising #ultraman: rising #ultraman x reader #ultraman x you #kenji x reader #kenji sato #kenji sato x reader #kenji sato x you #kenji sato x y/n #ken sato #ken sato x reader #ken sato x you #ken sato x y/n #ultraman ken

393 notes · View notes

deliciousangelfestival · 21 days ago

Text

The Imperfect Couple - 19 | End

Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader

Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.

Warning: Triggering conversation. Character died.

Words Count: 5,588

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

When life seems perfect, it often hides a test—a calm before the storm. For Steve, months after Peggy’s death, everything felt whole, secure. His presidency was steady, bolstered by approval from the public and respect from allies. Policies were sailing through Congress, his popularity was soaring, and his vision for the country was unfolding exactly as planned.

But something gnawed at him, an intuition sharpened by years in the military. A storm was coming—he could feel it.

“Mr. President,” Natasha’s voice cut through his thoughts as she entered the office with a stack of documents in her arms.

“Yes, Natasha?”

She placed a folder on his desk. “Here’s the speech draft for the press conference announcing your engagement to Miss Hazel,” she said, her tone carefully neutral. “If anything… goes south after the announcement.”

Steve took the folder, scanning the first page with a furrowed brow. He plans to introduce Hazel and Nate to the world. The public would need time to adjust to the news, and if the backlash was harsh, he’d be ready with a statement that cast Hazel in a sympathetic light.

“Thank you,” he replied, placing the folder aside.

Just then, the door burst open. An aide stumbled in, looking flushed and frantic. “Mr. President, I’m sorry to interrupt, but you need to see this immediately.” He thrust a tablet onto the desk, his hands shaking slightly as he pressed play.

A news anchor appeared on the screen, her voice grim and insistent. “Breaking news on an international scandal that could shake the nation. Our sources have uncovered what they’re calling ‘Deals in the Dark: Inside the Global Conspiracy Threatening Economic Stability.’”

The words "Steve Rogers" flashed across the screen, and the anchor continued, "Our investigation has linked these troubling deals directly to the highest office in the land.”

Steve’s face blanched. His name—his reputation—was being dragged through the mud in front of the entire country. Rage flared within him as he looked up, his jaw tight. “Get the Vice President in here. Now.”

A tense silence settled over the room as they waited. Moments later, Bucky entered, his expression carefully controlled, his eyes meeting Steve’s with a flash of concern.

“Close the door,” Steve ordered, his voice low and taut.

As the door clicked shut, Bucky stood before him, the weight of the situation hanging between them like a loaded gun. Steve’s hand curled into a fist, his voice barely a whisper but laced with fury. “Did you know about this?”

Bucky looked down, drawing a steadying breath, then met Steve’s piercing gaze. “I knew her was digging into things after her friend died, but… I didn’t know it would go this far.” He clenched his jaw. “I didn’t realize how deep she’d go—or how reckless she’d become.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed, a vein throbbing in his temple. “So you’re telling me you had no idea?”

“No, I didn’t,” Bucky admitted, his voice weighted with regret. “And I’m sorry, Steve. I’ll make this right. If you need a name to take the fall… blame me. I’ll shoulder this.”

Steve looked at him, surprised. Here was his Vice President—his friend—willing to sacrifice himself to protect him. It would be so easy to accept the offer, to let Bucky take the brunt of the fallout. It would keep Steve’s image intact, and Bucky could be quietly replaced.

But the advantage of having Bucky loyal by his side was too great. “No,” Steve replied, shaking his head. “This wasn’t your doing. And I need you here, not buried under this scandal.”

Bucky stepped forward, his gaze steady. “It’s alright, Steve. I haven’t done much lately as Vice President anyway. Let me take this on. We’re a team, aren’t we? Your problems are mine.”

Steve paused, looking at him, his anger tempered by the loyalty in Bucky’s eyes. “You’d take this for me?”

“Without hesitation,” Bucky replied firmly, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

Steve exhaled, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. He extended a hand, and Bucky took it, their grips strong, but their shared look even stronger. Then, in a rare moment of mutual trust, Steve pulled him into a fierce, brotherly embrace.

“Thank you, Bucky,” he murmured, his voice softened with unspoken gratitude.

As they pulled back, Bucky’s expression was resolute. “Whatever’s coming,” he said, his voice low, “we’re facing it together.”

Steve nodded, his mind racing with strategy and resolve. The scandal might be a blow, but with Bucky at his side, he felt fortified, ready to weather the storm—no matter how dark it threatened to become.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

With Bucky's promise still fresh in the air, Steve watched as his vice president worked hard to keep issues from flaring up. Bucky stood tall, his confidence showing as he spoke to reporters and citizens, assuring them that their concerns were being handled. But underneath, Steve could sense the tension in Bucky—his jaw tightened, and worry flickered in his eyes whenever new problems popped up.

Each time one issue seemed to fade, another arose, and it always seemed to lead back to you.

As Steve stood in the Oval Office, the weight of the scandals crashing down around him felt almost suffocating. Illegal domestic surveillance, military manipulation, a nuclear program scandal, and Stark Industries' data misuse—all of it traced back to you. The walls felt like they were closing in as he realized you were the mastermind behind this revelation. Even Bucky was oblivious to the full extent of the details.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady the rising tide of anger and betrayal, and faced you across the room. The tension hung heavy in the air, electric and dangerous. “When will you stop?” he demanded, his voice low and filled with barely restrained fury. “This is not only hurting me but also Bucky.”

You met his gaze, unflinching, your own anger simmering just below the surface. “Come and kill me, you crazy sociopath,” you shot back, your voice dripping with defiance.

Steve took a step closer, his fists clenched at his sides. “If you keep doing this, you’ll ruin the future of Nate’s life,” he warned, his tone now tinged with a desperate edge.

“I knew you have a soft spot for him. And I appreciate it,” he sneered. “But imagine him being branded with the image of being the illegitimate child, with his father as the most evil president in history.”

Steve’s jaw tightened. “Or you could choose this one: he’ll find out who I really am. Instead of shame, he’ll be proud to be the son of the president.”

“You fucking psycho,” you spat, taking a step back, putting space between you and the weight of your shared history. “Using your own son as your shield.”

Steve shook his head, disbelief mingling with a simmering rage. “You hate me because I killed your friend. Sure, I understand that. But if he were still alive, your husband and I probably couldn’t win the election.”

As the two of you locked eyes, the atmosphere crackled with tension—a brutal dance of hurt and anger, intertwined with a strange sense of familiarity. Steve’s breath quickened, the realization dawning on him that the battle wasn’t just external; it was deeply personal, and it threatened to consume them both.

“Everything is about paying back. Everyone in here knows everyone’s secrets.” Steve's voice was cold, his jaw clenched tightly as he glared at you, the tension in the air crackling like electricity. His hands were balled into fists at his sides, as if holding back the urge to lash out.

"I hate people like you—the idealistic type," Steve said, his voice low and simmering with frustration. He stepped closer, his eyes narrowing as he locked onto yours, the tension in the air palpable. "If you get rid of me, there will only be another just like me."

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

After talking to Steve, you returned home, your heart still racing with the weight of the conversation. As you stepped through the door, you saw Bucky waiting for you, his expression unreadable. The moment you locked eyes, tension filled the room.

"You’re just a puppet for Steve," you spat, your voice dripping with disdain. "I’m so ashamed of you."

Bucky's face hardened, his jaw clenched tightly as he stepped closer, his frustration boiling over. "You don’t understand anything! I’m doing what I have to do," he shot back, his tone sharp and defensive.

“Doing what you have to do?” you scoffed, your hands trembling with anger. “You’re covering up Ian’s death! You’re a coward for letting this happen!” Your words hung heavy in the air, each accusation striking a nerve as you paced back and forth, unable to contain your rage.

Bucky’s eyes flashed with a mix of hurt and anger. “You think it’s that simple? It’s not just about me! I have to protect what’s left of this place, even if it means making sacrifices!” He ran a hand through his hair, the frustration evident in the way his fingers curled into his scalp.

You shook your head, refusing to back down. “Sacrifices? You mean sacrificing your integrity? You’ve lost yourself to this game, Bucky! I can’t believe you let Steve manipulate you like this.”

Unbeknownst to both of you, your heated argument was being overheard. Natasha listened intently from the hidden bug that had been planted in the room, her brow furrowed with concern as she glanced at Steve. “Both of them are fighting. Bucky sounds surprised,” she informed him, her tone serious.

Steve leaned back in his chair, a slight smirk forming on his lips. “Good,” he replied, a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes. He relished the chaos unfolding, knowing that conflict could lead to clarity, both for Bucky and for you. The storm brewing between you two was exactly what he needed.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Even though there was turmoil at home, everything had to keep going. Bucky had to accompany Steve to attend the parade. The parade was a vibrant spectacle, a sea of red, white, and blue, with flags fluttering in the crisp air. Cheerful crowds lined the streets, waving banners and chanting the names of their leaders, their excitement palpable.

"Mr. President! Mr. President!" they roared, their voices a chorus of admiration for Steve Rogers, who stood tall and confident, a smile breaking across his face as he waved back. The warmth of the people's adoration radiated around him, but as the crowd's energy surged, the atmosphere felt electric, almost frenetic.

Beside him, Bucky Barnes maintained a more stoic demeanor. Though he wore the badge of Vice President, the cheers seemed to pass over him, fewer and far between. He appreciated the excitement but felt a twinge of disappointment that the cheers weren't for him. He turned to Steve, his brow furrowing slightly, and remarked dryly, "You know, I thought they would be a bit more enthusiastic about me."

Steve had brought Bucky here to entertain him because he knew about the problems between Bucky and you. You're wild and couldn't be tamed.

Steve chuckled, eyes glinting with mischief as he leaned closer, "Put a leash on your wife, or she'll embarrass this country." His laughter rang out, mingling with the cheers of the crowd, but Bucky's gaze drifted past him, scanning the parade route.

"Yeah," Bucky replied, a hint of agreement in his voice, but his eyes were still fixed on the crowd. There was a tension in the air that he couldn’t quite place.

Steve turned to Bucky, his brow slightly furrowed with concern. "How is she?" he asked, his voice low, almost hesitant.

Bucky crossed his arms tightly over his chest, his jaw clenched as he replied, "I told her to be quieter."

“Good,” Steve said, his expression softening a bit. He took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before continuing, "I’m planning to have Hazel by my side."

Bucky's eyes widened, disbelief flashing across his face. "What?" he exclaimed, his posture tensing as he processed the implications of Steve’s words.

"I knew you’d know," Steve said, a hint of regret creeping into his tone. He stepped closer, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. "And I’m sorry. But I promise you, I will give Hazel and Nate the best future."

Bucky fell silent, the weight of Steve’s promise hanging in the air between them. He looked away for a moment, his thoughts racing, before finally nodding, a mix of resignation and reluctant acceptance etched on his face.

Steve smiled, relief washing over him as he saw Bucky's reaction. There was a sense of camaraderie in the moment, a silent understanding forged in the midst of tension. But as Bucky looked at Steve, his eyes betrayed a flicker of uncertainty, hinting at the underlying conflict that still simmered just beneath the surface.

"I'm so glad to have you as my partner," Steve continued, sincerity evident in his tone. "May we work together until we die."

"Until we die," Bucky murmured, his voice almost lost in the surrounding commotion.

Suddenly, a voice cut through the noise, calling out, "Barnes!" A hand waved from the throng, the first time anyone had shouted his name that day. Bucky glanced at the person but didn’t respond with a wave like Steve did. Instead, he gave a subtle nod, a flicker of acknowledgment that felt more calculated than celebratory.

In that instant, chaos erupted. "KYAAA!!!"

A sharp crack rang out, slicing through the jubilant atmosphere. Bucky staggered as if struck by a physical blow, his eyes widening in shock.

The cheers turned into gasps of disbelief, and screams erupted as the crowd reacted in panic, some dropping to the ground, others frantically searching for cover. The Secret Service sprang into action, "Protect the Vice-President!", a wall of suits forming around Bucky as people pushed back in terror, the once-cheerful parade transformed into a scene of horror.

"Bucky!" Steve shouted, rushing forward, his heart pounding as he reached his partner's side. The world around him blurred, and all he could focus on was Bucky, crumpling to the ground.

Everyone was shouting, the air thick with fear and confusion, but all Steve heard was the ragged sound of his own breathing and the desperate cry of his friend. "Bucky!" he repeated, urgency lacing his tone.

Bucky's breath came in ragged gasps, his body sprawled on the pavement. The color drained from his face as he struggled to lift his hand, feeling the warmth of blood seeping through his fingers. With a surge of effort, he grasped Steve's arm, pulling him closer, anchoring himself to his partner even as the life slipped away from him. "All hail the President," he managed, his voice weak but resolute.

Steve's expression shifted from shock to horror, his body taut with the weight of impending dread. Bucky's grip tightened, holding him in place as if preventing him from moving, creating a storm of emotions that threatened to overwhelm them both. "Bucky, stay with me," he urged, desperation lacing his tone.

Bucky locked eyes with Steve, seeing the fear reflected there. A strange calm washed over him as he whispered, "As Nate's father, this is my gift for you."

Then, without warning, a searing pain tore through Steve’s chest, a sharp shot of agony that rooted him to the spot. The world blurred around him as he struggled to comprehend what was happening, realizing in that instant that he was the true target.

Steve felt the impact before he could process the meaning behind Bucky’s words. The world around them seemed to slow as the realization of betrayal hit him. He caught a glimpse of Bucky's fading form, and in that moment, a twisted smirk crept across his lips. "Well played," he murmured, before the darkness consumed him, and he dropped to the ground.

Bucky’s grip slackened, the warmth of his hand slipping away. Bucky’s body went limp, and as everything turned dark around him, Steve felt his own strength faltering.

That day, which was meant to be a celebration, turned into a day of mourning. Two main leaders of the country were injured, and no one knew who was behind the attack. With the most important figures in the nation harmed, it felt like an embarrassment for a country that prided itself on its strength.

Both parties in the government reached a silent agreement to keep the situation under wraps and portray Steve as a hero.

The news headlines that would follow would echo through history: “The President Dies Protecting the Vice President.” It would be a legacy of sacrifice, a testament to their bond. Steve Rogers would forever be remembered as the only president who lost his life protecting another, a tragedy that would resonate for generations.

Everyone would remember him as a good symbol, sacrificing himself for someone, without recalling the darker aspects of his actions. This was the last gift Bucky gave to him.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

2 days later

Bucky's eyes fluttered open, the sterile brightness of the hospital room piercing through the haze of his coma. As his surroundings came into focus, the first thing he saw was you, your face streaked with tears, a mixture of relief and anger etched across your features.

You rushed to his side, gripping his arm tightly, your voice trembling with emotion. "You idiot! What kind of plan was that? Risking your life?"

Bucky's brow furrowed slightly as he tried to process your words, his voice hoarse but steady. "Didn't I tell you? I will accept it if you hurt me."

Both of you pretended to fight to keep Steve from suspecting anything. He knew how much Bucky loved you, and with the two of you constantly bickering, he wouldn't notice that someone else had hired an assassin.

It was Caroline. She was the one who hired the sniper to take Steve's life. Don’t mess with a mother—or a woman like her.

Bucky getting shot first was all part of the plan. Caroline’s intention was to take out Steve, but Bucky warned her that he would also become a suspect if that happened.

Instead, he proposed that he get hurt first, diverting everyone’s attention to him, allowing Steve to be vulnerable next.

It was a risky plan—an idiotic one, really. But Bucky insisted, determined to see it through despite the danger that loomed over them all.

A deep sigh escaped your lips, a blend of frustration and relief washing over you. You leaned against his chest, resting your head there, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath your cheek. In that moment, everything else faded away—the anger, the fear—and all that mattered was that he was alive.

Risking his life was necessary to make his plan work. He didn't want the past six years of his efforts to go to waste.

The past six years had been exhausting for Bucky Barnes. He had immersed himself in the treacherous waters of politics, drawn in by the intoxicating taste of power that left a lingering sweetness on his tongue.

He quickly realized that understanding the law was not merely a tool; it was a weapon. Knowledge of loopholes became his advantage, a means to navigate the convoluted game of governance. But knowing the rules wasn’t enough; he needed to be ruthless. That was where Steve Rogers came into the picture—his mentor, a family friend for years, whose facade of integrity masked a far more sinister reality.

In Bucky’s eyes, Steve had always been perfect, a paragon of virtue. But as time wore on, the veneer began to crack, revealing the monstrous truth lurking beneath.

Steve was a predator cloaked in a hero’s guise. His charming smile belied a voracious greed that left a bloody trail in its wake. It was a shock to discover that Steve had been having an affair with Hazel, and now he was the father of Nate, the child whose very existence felt like a dagger to Bucky’s heart.

This betrayal was too much to bear. Bucky’s hatred for the man he once idolized simmered just below the surface, boiling over as he considered how to dismantle the carefully constructed empire Steve had built. Bucky knew the rules; he understood the political landscape better than most. But how could he bring down someone so deeply entrenched in the system?

Despite all his advantages, Steve believed he was the master of this game. No, he wasn’t. Bucky’s confidence swelled as he acknowledged that Steve’s skills—his war experience, his tactical mind—would ultimately falter against the true currency of politics. In this brutal arena, the real gold was connections and money. Behind every politician lurked unseen puppet masters pulling the strings, and Steve was no exception.

Bucky knew that while Steve had forged connections, he lacked the pedigree that defined the upper echelons of power. Steve had been a nobody until Peggy Carter had invited him into their circle, and that was when they made a monumental mistake—choosing Steve. He might have had his allies, but he would never be blue blood like Bucky and Peggy.

Then there was Peggy. The last straw. Bucky’s heart twisted as he recalled the circumstances of her death. He was all too aware that it had been Steve's machinations that had ultimately led to her demise. Bucky had witnessed the toll it took on her, the way she had struggled under the weight of her decisions, her life unraveling in the shadow of Steve's ambition. Bucky’s hands tightened into fists at the memory.

Caroline had been the voice of caution, her words echoing in his mind: “This is why you never bite the hand that feeds you.”

She may not have been a good mother, but she had been a loyal friend to Peggy, always protecting her interests, ensuring that her secrets remained buried. Bucky could see how easily Caroline could hire an assassin, how she moved through the shadows like a whisper, orchestrating the chaos without ever getting her hands dirty.

He never thought you and Caroline would join forces to rid the world of Steve. With each passing day, Bucky felt the walls closing in, the weight of the decisions he had to make pressing down on him like a vice. Steve would fall; it was only a matter of time.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Bucky stood in the Oval Office, a resolute figure beside the iconic Resolute Desk, a Bible open in front of him. The room was thick with anticipation, everyone watching him intently as he prepared to deliver his vow. His posture was firm, shoulders squared, as he looked around at the faces of his colleagues and allies, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on him. He glanced at the words on the page, drawing strength from their meaning as he readied himself to speak.

With a steady voice, he began, "I stand before you today, not just as your president, but as a servant of the people. I vow to uphold the Constitution, to protect the rights of every citizen, and to work tirelessly for the betterment of our nation. Together, we will fight against corruption and ensure that government truly serves the people. I promise to lead with integrity, to listen to your voices, and to bring about the change we so desperately need."

You stood behind him, pride swelling in your chest as you witnessed Bucky fulfill his promise to become president.

Behind you sat Caroline and Julius, the latter in his wheelchair, their expressions a mix of hope and admiration. Bucky’s oldest brother, Shawn, had called to congratulate him, his voice brimming with encouragement. Your brother Tim stood nearby, a smile on his face, reflecting the joy that filled the room. At the back, Hazel lingered, her posture tense and withdrawn, reluctant to stand close to her family.

As the applause began and everyone congratulated Bucky and you, Natasha approached Hazel, who stood near the corner as if she wanted to hide.

Perhaps she was too embarrassed to be there. Before, she had come to the White House as Steve's mistress, and everyone knew who she was but kept their mouths shut. This time, she was here only as Bucky's sister. “I have something for you,” Natasha said, extending an envelope toward her.

Hazel hesitated, her brows furrowing in confusion. “For me?” she asked, glancing from the letter to Natasha, unsure of what to expect.

Natasha nodded, a subtle smile breaking through her serious exterior. “Yes, it’s from Steve.” With that, she stepped back to take her position.

Hazel’s fingers trembled slightly as she took the letter, the weight of it heavy in her hand. As she opened it, memories flooded back, and she felt a rush of emotions. It was a final message from Steve, words that resonated with her deeply.

The atmosphere in the room shifted as Hazel read the heartfelt letter, her heart pounding in her chest.

"Hazel,

If you’re reading this, it means I’m probably no longer living. And that's okay; I've come to accept it. The world I’ve inhabited has been fraught with danger, and I’ve made choices that have led me here.

Hazel, from the moment I met you, it felt like looking into a mirror—a reflection of my own heart and soul. You brought warmth and light into my life, even when I was lost in darkness. Your strength has always amazed me, and I want you to carry that with you as you move forward.

Live the life you’ve always wanted. I’ve made arrangements for you and Nate, ensuring you both have the financial support you need to thrive.

Please, for our Nate, support him and listen to him. He will need you more than ever now, and I have every confidence in your ability to guide him.

If there is a next life, I hope we never meet again. You deserve someone better than me. Now that I’m gone, please try to forget me and the mistakes I made. I genuinely wish you and Nate nothing but the best.

Steve Rogers

P.S. Don’t worry about the twins. They’ve been independent since they were young and have the Carters to guide them. They’ll be okay."

Tears fell onto the letter as Hazel finished reading it.

“Mom?” Nate's small voice broke through her moment of grief.

Hazel looked down at her son, the last legacy of Steve, and quickly wiped her tears away. “Do you want to visit Uncle Steve?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

Nate nodded enthusiastically, his bright eyes shining with admiration. “Yes! He’s a hero for saving Uncle Bucky!”

Hazel flinched at the mention of Bucky, but she forced a smile, wanting to be strong for her son. She knelt down to his level and took his small hands in hers, feeling the warmth of his tiny fingers. With her other hand, she clutched the letter written by Steve, a reminder of his love and hopes for her.

Together, they held hands as they walked, Hazel’s heart swelling with determination. Just as Steve had wished, she would live life to the fullest and be a great mother to Nate.

After Hazel and Nate left, Natasha approached Bucky with a serious expression. “Both of them have left,” she informed him.

Bucky turned to her, his demeanor cool and composed, devoid of any trace of warmth. “She read the letter?” he asked, his voice steady and flat.

“Yes,” Natasha replied, nodding her head.

“Did she believe it?” Bucky pressed, his gaze sharp and focused.

“I hired a professional to copy Steve's signature, and I added a bit of his perfume to the paper,” Natasha explained, her tone measured and confident.

“Good.” Bucky’s expression remained impassive, his eyes betraying no emotion. He had written the letter himself, crafting it to sound like it came from Steve. His intention was clear: he wanted Hazel to move on from Steve, to find a new path without the shadows of the past weighing her down. This was necessary for her future, and he understood the sacrifices it took to ensure that.

“Good job.” Bucky looked at Natasha again, and she nodded in acknowledgment.

It was a curious alliance—how could a loyal supporter of Steve choose to work with Bucky? The answer lay in humanity. Natasha had pledged her loyalty to Steve because he saved her from the chaos of war when she had no one to turn to. In her eyes, he was a hero, and she had turned a blind eye and deaf ear to his misdeeds, including the affair with Hazel.

But everything changed when she witnessed the heartlessness Steve displayed toward Peggy. The righteous man she once admired had morphed into a monster, and her faith in him shattered. With Steve’s death, Natasha reevaluated her principles and decided to align herself with Bucky.

Bucky brought her on board because he recognized her skills and capabilities. He needed people like Natasha—sharp, resourceful, and fiercely dedicated. But he also understood the value of loyalty and did not intend to take it for granted. Their partnership was strategic, grounded in the shared goal of reshaping the political landscape, and Bucky was determined to build a team that could challenge the corruption that had long plagued their world.

“Have you got everything you need?” your voice pulled him away from his thoughts.

“Yes,” he replied, a smile breaking through his usual stoicism as he took your hand in his.

As you both walked through the grand halls of the White House, the sunlight streamed through the tall windows, casting a warm glow on the polished floors. Bucky’s grip on your hand was firm, steady, a reassuring anchor in the midst of the political storm surrounding him.

Bucky had his share of greed, but he loathed those who didn’t know their limits. Among those were his so-called friends, Edgar and Brock. Together with Steve, they formed a trio of self-serving opportunists, always proclaiming their actions were “for the people” while their true motivations were purely selfish—“for me, me, and me.”

What set Bucky apart from Steve, Edgar, and Brock was his ambition to dismantle the very system they thrived in. He wanted to rid politics of corrupt individuals like them, who masqueraded their greed as altruism. Bucky had seen too much of the damage they had inflicted on the community, and he was determined to be the catalyst for change. He refused to become like them.

To clean up the government, he knew he had to start with this corrupt trio. It was a slow and grueling process, requiring patience and strategy, but Bucky was committed to the fight. He would work behind the scenes, gathering evidence, building alliances, and slowly dismantling their influence. It was exhausting, but he was relentless.

His ultimate goal extended beyond simply removing them from power. He envisioned a government rebuilt on integrity, one that truly served the interests of the people rather than the egos of a few. The road ahead was fraught with challenges, but he was willing to face them head-on. Every step he took toward exposing the trio brought him closer to realizing his vision of a more just and equitable political landscape.

As Bucky navigated the murky waters of politics, he felt the weight of his mission pressing down on him. He was no longer just a pawn in the game; he was a player with a purpose. This time, he wouldn’t be silenced. He was determined to take the fight to them, fueled by a deep resolve to expose their hypocrisy and restore honor to a system long tainted by greed.

But alongside you, he realized something important: for an imperfect couple, you both made a perfect team. As you walked together, side by side, it felt like you were crossing a finish line, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. Each step was a testament to your shared commitment—a bond forged in trust and understanding, built on the ashes of past mistakes.

You glanced up at him, and in that moment, you could see the determination in his eyes, the fire that ignited whenever he believed in something. Together, you were more than just individuals; you were partners united in a common cause, ready to fight for a better future. In the complicated world of power and betrayal, your partnership was a beacon of hope, lighting the way toward justice and change.

-The End-

Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who followed this series until the end. This story has its flaws, but I truly appreciate your support and dedication. It was incredibly difficult for me to wrap up this journey and say goodbye to Bucky and his fierce ex-wife. Writing a tale that intertwines politics with romance has been both a challenging and rewarding experience. I've learned so much about character development and the complexities of relationships, and I'm grateful to have shared this journey with all of you. Your feedback and encouragement have meant the world to me.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

@thezombieprostitute

@scott-loki-barnes

@mostlymarvelgirl

@dexter99

@missvelvetsstuff

@kjah97

@krissydclayton93

@itsteambarnes

@toldyouitwasamelodrama

@lassie-bird

@bighappypiels

@buckitostan

@barnesxstan

@bada-lee-ily

@mrsstuckyboo

@florie1

@cjand10

@sidraaaaaaaaa

@aritoocute

@crazyunsexycool

@mcira

@touchstarvedforbuckybarnes

@pattiemac1

@elizalexwil

@gingersnap-2

@whitexwolfxx310

@marvel-wifey-86

@kumointhesky

@hnnhbananananana

@je-suis-prest-rachel

@nouis-bum

@thebuckybarnesvault

@unaxv

@hzdhrtss

@blackbirdwitch22

@darsynia

@lokislady82

@bonkybarnes106

@kandis-mom

@imrandomstuffsblog

@chimchoom

@wintrsoldrluvr

@greatenthusiasttidalwave

@sebastians-love

@kythefangirl25

@mrsnikstan

@identity2212

@justsebstan

@clairoscharm

@billyseye

@g1g1l

@sxnshinebxcky

250 notes · View notes

froggibus · 5 months ago

Note

🍦- Wally West PLEASE

Something body worship, like reader feels insecure and he reassures them or wally comes back after a mission and thinks reader is just the most gorgeous goddess while they're doing something super mundane like reading on the couch or binging movies

Electric Love - Wally West

Pairing: Wally West x fem! reader (uses fem pronouns + has a pussy)

Genre: smut/nsfw, mild angst + hurt/comfort

Word Count: 2.4K

Summary: when Wally catches you feeling down about yourself about how you look in a bikini, he’s determined to remind you how beautiful you really are

CW: young justice! Wally (but could be read as comic! Wally too), established relationship + you live together, insecurity & body image issues, light emotional break, Wally rips your clothes off hehe, porn with plot, kinda long start sorry, praise, oral (f! receiving), unprotected sex (make good choices), creampie, rough sex, mating press

I was so excited to write this one I had brainrot abt it all through work (& made the worlds worst caramel macchiato ever cause I was so distracted) i really really loved both ideas you gave me but to suit the summery vibes i chose the first part! however i WILL be filing away the second part for future use! thanks so much for joining in on the fun <3

this is part of our Summer Suntacular event! come check it out!

You frown as the nylon fabric snaps against your skin with a crack. You tug on the waistband of the bikini bottoms one more time, seeing if this fifth and final time will actually make the red high waisted bottoms look acceptable. It doesn’t.

“No,” you mutter to yourself in the mirror. With a sigh, you slide your hands up to the matching top, shifting the tiny triangles to try and cover the slightest bit more of your skin. “Absolutely not.”

As much as you loved the ruffled, scarlet bathing suit when you’d seen it in the store, you don’t love it nearly as much now that you have it on. The fabric sits awkwardly, digging into your skin and bulging in all the wrong places. You take a deep breath, blinking back tears.

“Walls!” You shout down the hall, forcing your voice to be as steady as possible. “I changed my mind. I’m not going.”

Your boyfriend is at the door in an instant, sliding so fast across the wooden floors that he almost slams into a wall. Bracing himself on the chipped paint of your doorframe, he tilts his head at you.

You hate the way your voice shakes as you try to speak. “I can’t go.”

Wally’s gaze softens as he takes you in completely. From your bikini that’s almost the exact shade of his suit, to the glossy sheen of your eyes that tells him precisely how you’re feeling.

“Baby.” He releases the door from his grip and shuffles slowly—slower than you’ve ever seen him—towards you. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

He stands close behind you, green eyes fixing on yours through the mirror. You flick your eyes down, opting instead to stare at your socks and spare yourself the embarrassment of Wally seeing you this way.

You shift your arms to hide your stomach, as if that will hide the way the bathing suit disfigures you. “I feel awkward.”

“Awkward?”

“I—” The lump in your throat is almost unbearably thick, and as you open your mouth to speak, the floodgates burst open. “I look horrible! It’s so embarrassing, Walls.”

Your knees wobble and you pitch forward, the hard floor beneath you looking so incredibly inviting—but Wally catches you before you can fall. His strong arms pull you to his chest, using his own body to support yours.

“Don’t look!” You sob, “please don’t look.”

He lifts a gentle hand to your cheek, brushing away the fat tears that sizzle their way down your skin. Gone is his usual goofy demeanor, his supportive side shining through.

Wally keeps a firm hold on you while you cry, occasionally using his hand to brush away stray tears. “Let it out, it’s alright,” he murmurs in your ear.

You dig your nails into your palms in an effort to ground yourself, coupling the motion with deep breaths. Wally murmurs praise to you the whole time, embracing you as you come down from your breakdown.

When you’ve finally stopped, Wally brushes away the final tears before they can fall and gently strokes your chin until your eyes meet his in the mirror. He offers you that famous, shining grin—his smile only growing brighter when you give a hesitant one of your own.

“Now,” he says softly, gripping your chin firmly in his calloused fingers. “Why is my girl so down on herself?”

You loose a sigh, glancing at the awkward red fabric still clinging to your body. “It’s just this stupid bathing suit.”

Wally follows your gaze, narrowing his eyes at the clothing as if he could laser it off. He drops his hand from your chin and runs it down your side.

Beneath his touch, electricity crackles, filling your veins with liquid fire. He fixes his hand on your hip, fingertips just barely sliding themselves into your waistband.

“This is what’s giving you so much grief?” His hot breath fans over the side of your neck. “This stupid scrap of fabric?”

Even the air conditioning isn’t enough to stop the heat that follows Wally’s touch. You let your eyes flutter shut, basking in the way his fingertips slip further and further down your bathing suit bottoms.

Your enjoyment is cut short by a sharp tug and a loud ripping sound, snapping you out of your daze. You notice all too late as cold air hits your exposed core and Wally holds up the tattered remains of your bikini bottoms.

“Wally!”

“What?”

You stare slack jawed at the shreds of what was once your bathing suit. “That was expensive…”

As if he can’t hear you, Wally suddenly grabs the centre of your top and rips it clean down the middle. The nylon slips down your shoulders and pools on the floor, leaving you completely naked.

“It was making you upset.” He shrugs. “I’ll buy you a new one, alright?”

“The bathing suit wasn’t the problem…”

“Then what is?” It’s more of a challenge than a question, his green eyes crackling with mischief.

“I—”

“Don’t you dare say you’re the problem.”

You almost laugh at how quickly he cuts you off. You don’t answer him, opting instead to lift your chin and meet his eyes.

He plants a gentle kiss to the side of your neck. “You’re so beautiful, you know that?” He kisses the inner part of your shoulder. “I think you forget that sometimes.”

“N-no,” you say shakily, though you’re unsure what part you’re replying to.

“Really?” He exhales, the feeling of his breath on your sensitive, exposed skin making you shiver. His voice is almost a whisper when he speaks next. “Let me show you how pretty you are, baby.”

Wally has you laying on your back in your bed before you can even react, manhandling you with all the care in the world. He cups your face gently, pressing his lips against yours and stealing all your breath away. The familiar, intoxicating scent of citrus and coffee feels your nostrils—peculiar, but unmistakably him.

He pulls away, leaving you out of breath. You can only manage one deep, shaking breath before he’s touching his lips to the centre of your collarbone, gently nipping at the sensitive skin. Your chest flutters in response.

Wally looks up at you, his gorgeous green eyes dark with lust and filled with love—all of it for you. He plants a kiss to the centre of your chest, keeping his eyes on yours as he moves to give a sloppy kiss to each nipple. You swelter under his touch, fireworks exploding in each new place he kisses.

“Pretty, pretty girl,” he coos, kissing his way down your stomach and to your hips. “Fucking beautiful.”

The heat in your core nearly boils over when he makes it to your hips, his tongue swiping across the skin just beneath your tummy. His hands slide to grip at either thigh, separating them to make room for himself in the middle. Despite the heat threatening to consume you, you shiver in anticipation.

Wally looks at you one more time, pure adoration in his gaze, before diving into the aching heat of your cunt. From the first brush of his soft tongue against your throbbing clit, you’re so gone.

“So fucking good,” he mumbles between your legs, the vibrations only adding to your pleasure.

You can’t help but buck your hips, thrusting against his face in a desperate attempt to get more. Wally steadies your wild movements with a heavy hand to your tummy, pressing down till it makes the knot building inside of you impossibly tight. You shut your eyes and grasp desperately at something—anything—to ground you during his relentless assault on your heat.

Wally whines as your fingertips tangle in his hair, but says nothing. He shifts his grip, grabbing your thighs and tossing them over either shoulder. The backs of your knees ache from the sudden stretch, but it’s a welcome distraction from how fucking hot you feel and how fucking good his tongue feels lapping your gushing cunt.

He pulls away for only a second to take a breath before shoving his face further in, his nose bumping against your clit harshly. You suck in a breath, throwing your head back. You’re wound so tightly and everything is so incredibly, impossibly hot, every movement he makes threatens to send you over the edge.

Wally spurs forward, practically suffocating himself in your cunt, and begins tracing circles around your aching hole. His scalp aches from where you tug at his fiery red strands, but you taste so fucking good and you look so goddamn pretty, he’d welcome anything you’d give him right now—even the pain.

He dips his index finger inside of you, and before he even bottoms out, you’re unravelling. You thrash beneath his grasp, the only thing keeping you from seizing violently is his hand holding your stomach. The world around you blurs, tears pricking at your lashes as your cunt spasms and gushes on Wally’s face.

He doesn’t let up as you come, keeping his finger inside to give you something to clench around. His face stays buried in your cunt, gladly accepting all your sweet juices onto his waiting tongue. It’s so hot and so messy, coating his lips and dripping down his cheeks and staining his t-shirt—but he doesn’t care. Not when you taste so good, not when you’re so gorgeous.

It takes nearly a minute for the world to come back to you, and even when it does, it’s still spinning. Your chest rattles with each breath, heart seemingly pounding as fast as Wally runs.

He pulls away from your cunt with the biggest grin on his face, the whole lower half of his face glistening. “Fuck,” he groans, licking his lips. “Fuck, you taste so good.”

Despite your breathlessness, you reach out with a shaky hand to tug at the collar of his shirt, fisting the fabric and pulling him towards you. Wally gladly follows, crashing his lips against yours and slipping his tongue in your mouth.

You’re both breathless, panting from the heat and the friction, and when he pulls away, a sloppy trail of spit connects your mouths.

Wally almost cums right then and there just from how you’re looking at him—lips all puffy and swollen from making out, stars in your teary eyes.

“God, baby, don’t look at me like that.”

You tilt your head at him. “Like what?”

“Like I should fuck you till you can’t think anymore.”

And just like that, the fading fire in your core roars to life once more. “Wally,” you mumble, reaching for him again.

“Say you’ll let me.” He bats his eyes at you. “Say you’ll let me fuck that gorgeous, gorgeous cunt.”

“Please fuck me, Walls.” You look up at him through your lashes. “Please.”

Wally has his pants down to his knees before you’re even done speaking, not even bothering to pull them all the way down. He dips two fingers into your folds, collecting your slick and eagerly rubbing it down his hard length.

You prop yourself up on your elbows just so you can watch as he lines his tip up with your opening. He pushes his hips forwards, the tip of his cock just barely slipping into your cunt. You suck in a breath at the slight ache—his width is always a bit of a shock—and let yourself fall back into the pillows.

Wally gently presses down on your stomach, groaning at the way you clench around his cock as he bottoms out. The tip of his cock perfectly brushes your gspot with every shaking breath he takes while he forces himself to stay still.

The second he feels your walls ease up, he’s pulling out and slamming his hips back into yours. His thrusts force all the breath out of your body, each one rougher than the last. Despite how aggressive his movements are, you know this is restrained for Wally, that he’s holding himself back on your behalf.

“Wish I could stay buried in your cunt forever.” He pants. “Never wanna let you go.”

Wally leans further into you, propping himself on his arms while his hips slam into yours hard enough to bruise. Breathless moans are forced from you with every movement, Wally pressing his lips against yours to drink up each sound you make.

He folds you in on yourself, your knees pressing into your chest and allowing him to go even deeper. He buries his face in your neck, half panting and half kissing you.

“Wally.” You gasp out.

The feeling of his cock just barely brushing your cervix is more than enough to have the knot in your stomach building. You wrap your arms around him, curling your fingers and digging them into the muscles of his shoulder blades.

“S—shit,” he groans. “Feels so damn good.”

He gently nips at your neck, rolling his hips into yours and finally sending you over the edge. Heat floods through you, all of your muscles seizing as your orgasm rolls over you. You close your eyes, digging your hands even harder into Wally’s skin, desperately riding out wave after wave of pleasure.

Wally’s hips stutter, his thrusts getting sloppier, and then your clenching, gummy walls are sending him over the edge with you. He forces himself as deep as he can, bottoming out just as the first waves of hot cum flood through you.

The aftershocks of your orgasm are so exhausting that you can hardly feel Wally collapse on top of you, bearing the full weight of his body. The two of you pant in unison, chests fluttering together. With every breath he takes, his soft, sweaty hair tickles the side of your neck.

Wally lays tangled with you for a few minutes, his cock still buried inside of you while he regains his strength.

Finally, he sits up with a grin. “So,” he says, “how’s my beautiful girl feeling?”

Wally laughs when you give him a weak thumbs up from below him. “Good.” He smiles. “And don’t you ever forget it.”

summer suntacular | masterlist | dc masterlist

(if you enjoy content like this, interactions go a long way! comments, likes & rbs are always greatly appreciated ^-^ !!)

#wally west smut #Wally west #Wally west x reader #Wally west x you #the flash smut #the flash x you #the flash x reader #kid flash #kid flash smut #kid flash x reader #young justice smut #young Justice x reader #x you #x reader

409 notes · View notes

lassieposting · 11 months ago

Text

I like to think that once things have settled down post-game, Tav will start addressing Astarion's critically low self-everything issues.

Like, this man's obnoxious, vain exterior is a paper-thin sheet of ice over a bottomless lake of insecurities and negative self-talk, and we see that the whole way through the game. He's been taught to believe that his only value is in his body. He'll bitterly call sex the only thing he's good for. He's shocked if you dump another companion for him, because he sees himself as having nothing to offer but baggage. He knows, in an abstract way, that he's attractive, but he doesn't remember what he looks like.

Perhaps one evening he asks what they see in him, and when they ask what he thinks their answer will be, he's stumped by the question.

And Tav decides it's past time to do something about that, because there is so much about him that is worthy of love.

Consider: Astarion rolling out of bed at like noon, padding naked to the bathroom to wash and style his hair, and catching sight of something tucked into the frame of the mirror. It's a sketch of him, one of Tav's, and beside it, they've scrawled the words you're beautiful. He grins, and traces the charcoal strokes with a fingertip while he brushes his teeth, because that's not a difficult one to believe, and he's touched.

But then he starts finding more little sketches, and more little notes. When he reaches for the book he's been reading, there's one tucked into the page he's dog-eared - a little caricature of himself, curled up in an armchair reading a giant book, captioned you're clever. He snorts a laugh, a little self-deprecating. Loathe as he is to admit it, he's no Gale, and he has brain fog more often than not. But...well, he did graduate law school and pass the bar once upon a time, so technically they're not wrong.

You're brave is resting on his pillow when he comes back from splashing his face in the bathroom one night, still trembling from a nightmare. His eyes well up when he spots it, and when he crawls into open arms and buries his face in Tav's clavicle he mumbles that he doesn't feel very brave at all. That's a hard one to accept, but they will keep telling him.

You care about me... is simply sitting on a dresser one day. Two little drawings with that one; in the first, he's bandaging a cartoonish bump on Tav's head. On the back, though...he recognises that image, Tav tied up and spitting rage at him through the night, lost to their Urges, as he kept watch. In smaller letters, his own words are reflected back at him: ...even when that's an objectively stupid thing to do.

You never gave up is in the medical kit kept under the bed, the one stocked with salves and oils for the bone-deep ache of two hundred years of consistent injuries. Tav will rub his shoulders for him if he asks, he knows that. But, well, two centuries of hiding any sign of weakness makes for a tough habit to break. He touches the reminder gently, as though it's fragile, and after a moment's hesitation, calls them in for help.

And on and on they go, dozens of little notes, a tangible list of things they love about him. Repeated, sometimes, some more than others, as and when he needs to be reminded of them. Often accompanied by little drawings that make him laugh or snort or cry - snapshots at how Tav sees him. His ridiculous bedhead. His unflattering blood-drunk expression, gawking into the middle distance, utterly lost in the sauce. The way his ears will sometimes twitch in his sleep. The Sexy Side-Lean pose he didn't realise he tends to do in doorways. His dramatic readings of appalling erotica.

And gradually, he begins to believe them.

#bg3 #bg3 headcanons #astarion ancunin #astarion x tav #astarion x durge #tav's drawings are either beautifully done sketches or chibis there is no in between

972 notes · View notes

satorusugurugurl · 6 months ago

Note

heyy!! how ru? soooo, i was thinking about jjk men found out that reader has problems with food, if you are okay with it, could you write it? if you r not its okay! you are a great writer and i love reading your stuff!! kisses!

JJK Men: When You Have an Issue With Food

Characters: Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, Ryomen Sukuna

Word Count: 3,907

Warning: Themes of eating disorders, issues with food, negative body image, suggestiveness, fluff in the end

A/N: Thank you for the request, Nonnie! As someone who has struggled with issues regarding an eating disorder, this took me a bit of time to figure out, but I feel proud of it. Please seek out resources if you struggle as well! There are so many helpful resources that have helped me!

Gojo Satoru:

Satoru loved sweets. He developed his love in high school when stimulating his brain, which led to him developing a sweet tooth, so you could always count on him to bring home all sorts of sweets, which was nice. You enjoyed it until someone at work mentioned that it looked like you gained weight. You brushed it off at first, but it struck a nerve when she said you might lose your boyfriend if you continued eating the sweets. Did you put on a few pounds since you started dating Gojo? Was it all the sweets you had been enjoying with him?

The comment had you poking at your stomach in the mirror with a pout. That woman blatantly announcing their view in front of your coworkers was rude. It was embarrassing and had you questioning if Satoru had noticed if you gained weight. You need to stop indulging in sweets, or more people might start making comments about your weight. Or the worst-case scenario was that Satoru would leave you.

That same day, you went straight to the gym when you got home. You heard footsteps rushing to the door when you returned to your apartment. Satoru nearly tackled you as he kissed your cheeks repeatedly as you headed for the kitchen.

“Hi, Toru!” You giggled as Satoru shuffled with you into the kitchen, not once letting you go. “How did the mission go?”

“It was boring! I wish I could’ve brought you with me!” White strands of hair fly as he yanked his head away from your face. “But I brought you home some souvenirs.” He handed you a pink bag with a cute cat label. “Macaroons from France! This shop is known for its take on different flavors. Peanut butter and jelly blueberry and cinnamon roll. I bought one of every flavor for us to try.” His smile was wide and warm, leaving you feeling sick.

“Oh, thanks.” You placed the bag onto the counter with an evident frown. One Satoru saw your unenthusiastic reaction, and it made him pout.

“What’s wrong? You love macaroons.”

“I do. I just—” Nausea twisted in your stomach. “I can’t eat them anymore.”

The combination of ‘I do’ and ‘I can’t’ had Satoru reeling in stunned silence. “What do you mean you can't? Did you develop a macaroon allergy while I was gone?”

“No, I can’t keep eating sweets, Toru.”

Satoru could tell something had happened while he was gone. Usually, you jumped at the chance to try an exotic sweet he’d bring home. For you to be so dismissive wasn’t like you at all. He’d only been gone for a week, and suddenly, you had an aversion to sweets.

His fingers gently grab your chin between his thumb and forefinger. The second his eyes meet yours, he can feel your anguish. Tears glimmer in your eyes as a little hiccups sound in your chest. Seeing you in such a state had your boyfriend searching you for injuries only to realize it wasn’t on the surface but deeper.

“Sweetheart.” The tenderness and concern in his voice make you cry harder. “Baby, what’s wrong? Talk to me.” Satoru pulls you to the couch, sitting you directly on his lap.

“M-My c-co—“ si s wreck through you as you try to speak, “my coworker—”

“Your coworker what? Who do I need to Hollow Purple?”

Satoru runs his hands gently up and down your back, which is soothing. “They were asking if I gained wei—weight. A-And they said that I would lose you if I gained more.” His hands stopped moving, and his eyes widened in disbelief.

“I’m sorry. What the fuck did you just say?”

You spilled your guts out, telling him everything from what they said to you to going to the gym. Never once amid your rant did he interrupt you. He just held you, pressing kisses against your tear-stained cheeks until you shuddered with a sigh once you were done.

“Baby, my sweet, beautiful girlfriend. Fuck them. Fuck those assholes; God, I hate people so much.” His hands grab your hips, making you straddle him to stare into his eyes. “I think you’re beautiful just the way you are. If you want different souvenirs, I’ll bring you something different. If you want me to bring you back, I will.” His hands gently stroke at your tear-stained cheeks. “But don’t let a bunch of assholes dictate what you can and can’t eat.”

Sincere cease the stream tears. “You think I’m perfect?” A smile graces your face, causing Satoru’s heart to flutter.

“Yes! I love you, whether you indulge in sweets or focus on going to the gym. Regardless of your choice, I’ll support you, whether I bring you home more treats or join you at the gym; say the word, and I’ll support you no matter what.”

You gently pressed your lips against him. To which he gladly reciprocated, holding you tight as you messily made out like horn-crazed teenagers. You happily munched on the macaroons Satoru brought home the next day at work when your phone rang. The woman who had commented on your weight, Tadashi, appears on the caller ID, making you roll your eyes

“Yes?” You asked, licking the crumbs off your lips.

“You have a delivery here in the front.”

You rush to the lobby and pass other assistant supervisors into the waiting room. The delivery man is hidden behind the arrangement of your favorite flowers. You melted as you stepped forward, the floral scent drawing you in.

“Hi, those are for me.” You helped your hands out to the vase.

“Yes, they are!” The flowers lowered, and your grind blindfold creased as he stared down at you.

“Toru?!”

“Just had to remind you how perfect and loved you are!” he placed the flowers down before rubbing his arms around you. “I also want hollow purple the assholes who hurt you.”

“No, Toru, please don’t do that.”

While murder was out of the question, Satoru decided on a different approach to let your coworkers know how much you were loved. He wrapped his arms around you before dipping you in front of all of your shitty coworkers just before kissing you. He made such a scene making out with you and grabbing your ass that you were left a blushing mess. He finally managed to pull away; he flipped off the woman who had made such terrible comments to you.

“Hope this proves that I’m never going anywhere.” he slaps your ass again, drawing a squeak from you. “She’s mine forever and always, no matter what!”

Nanami Kento:

Ever since high school, you have had a food issue. When you were a child, your grandparents often commented about you cleaning off your plate or having seconds. They would frequently call you chubby or warn you that man would like a woman who finished her meals before him.

Because of their comments, you never ate as much as you would like. Purposely leave as much food on your plate as possible without starving yourself. While the habit was unhealthy, it pleased your grandparents to the point they finally got off your back about your plate and weight. After their deaths, the harmful habit caused by their poisonous words scarred you your whole life.

No matter how hungry you were, you never finished your plate. A handful of the entire plate was eaten at every meal you ate. If you were still hungry, water helped with the lingering traces of hunger. Because of your seemingly peckish behavior, you were called a bird throughout high school and even into adulthood. You didn’t see it in a bad way. You were eating the way you did, which never bothered you. You were happy and content with your choices until you started dating Nanami Kento.

When he first asked you out, you thought the good-looking man was pulling a joke on you. Much to your relief, he was serious. He wanted to take you out for dinner and drinks, which you excitedly agreed to. Nanami took you to the best restaurants in town, and it was. You moaned as you ate until you had to force yourself to stop, as you were dangerously getting close to finishing your plate for the first time in years.

Your grandparents' words haunted you as you reluctantly put your spoon down. That was the first time he picked up on your issue. The way you assured him that you were full when your eyes still lingered on your food or how you moaned when you took a bite of the sweet dessert, going in for another spoonful only to freeze and drop your spoon.

Something didn’t seem right, but Nanami wouldn’t pry on the first date. Perhaps you weren’t that hungry, or you were nervous around him. There was no point in bringing it up right now. He wasn’t even sure if he’d get a second date.

But he got that second date and the third, and soon, he became your loving, doting boyfriend

A boyfriend who noticed you not cleaning your plate off wasn’t just a one-time occurrence but a habit of yours. No matter the meal, breakfast, lunch, or dinner, you never finished your plate. Even when you complained about how starving you were, you never ate until you were full.

You never looked satisfied whenever you ate; one would even say that you looked disappointed whenever your plate was taken away at restaurants. Or when you close the lid on your unfinished bento box. You wanted to eat, but something was preventing you from pushing past the limit you made for yourself

Nanami didn’t want to pry or embarrass you by bringing it up, but he could no longer hold his tongue after the two of you had gone to dinner. You stopped eating, and while he finished his meal, you chugged down an entire glass of water. Clearly, you were still hungry but not wanting to eat.

He decided he needed to bring up the manner in the comfort of his home, away from watchful eyes. So Nanami invited you to his condo for a homemade dinner featuring your favorite meal.

It was so good. The flavors were perfect, mouthwatering, and nearly orgasmic. You moaned eagerly, shoving more food into your mouth, losing yourself in the delicious meal made by loving hands; Nanami watched you while sipping on his wine, watching you eat until you stopped eating like always. The disappointment was evident on your face as you reluctantly put your fork down.

Now was the time to act.

“Darling, is the food not to your liking?” A sense of dread burned in your stomach as you looked up from your half-full plate at your boyfriend

“No, it was good! I’ve never tasted something so tasty.”

Nanami placed his wine glass down, licking his bottom lip. “ Are you just not hungry?” You shook your head, cheeks burning. “Then why don’t you eat more Love? You clearly want to.”

“But I don’t wanna lose you—”

Not expecting that to be your answer, Kento pulled his chair to your side, sat down, and gently grabbed your hands. You flushed as he brought them towards his mouth, pressing gentle kisses against your knuckles. Your boyfriend looked so distraught over your answer as if it had wounded him to the soul.

“Why do you think that? Have I made you feel if you were to finish your food, that would result in me leaving you? If I made you feel that way, I’m sorry.”

“Ken, no, no, wait a second.” Your fingers squeezed around his hand. “You didn’t do anything remotely close to making me feel that way.”

“Then why do you think you’d lose me if you were to finish a meal in front of me?”

Swallowing at the lump of dread in your throat, you sighed. “Well, it’s something my grandparents always used to say.” You told him everything about their crude remarks and terrible advice. You also confessed that despite their passing, their words still haunted you, making it hard for you to finish meals.

“That has to be the most asinine bullshit I’ve ever heard.” Kento snapped, irritation carved into his features. “People are so cold and cruel. They don’t understand that words can impact a person for the entirety of their lives.”

“Kento—”

“I can assure you that I would rather you finish your plate than starve yourself. Food is one of the many joys in life that is better shared and company.” He closed the small distance between you. “If you finish your plate, I won’t be disgusted or turned off. I promise you it’s the opposite; seeing you happy and enjoying yourself makes me happy.”

“It does?”

“You always look so happy when you eat something you like.” Nanami picked up your fork and is holding it out for you. “So please don’t let the cruel words of terrible people dictate how you live your life. I won’t be leaving anytime soon, so please eat as much as you’d like.”

Hearing those words from him, the man who stole your heart, made your soul soar. Confirming that your grandparents were terrible people and that he wouldn’t leave you left you feeling overjoyed. Like you had been set free. It was like Kento had taken bolt cutters to the chains wrapped around you for years. That rush of relief had you eating more food off your plate with a happy hum.

You ate all the food off your plate for the first time in years. Nanami grinned as he gently stroked your head, elated to you, so happy and satisfied. Seeing you in such a euphoric state delighted him; words could not describe it. Nanami Kento was falling hard for you, and he couldn’t wait to see what the future holds for you both.

Ryomen Sukuna (Modern AU):

“Big bro!” Sukuna Thomas is a slice of toast on Yuuji’s plate. “Bro!” The smaller boy pouts at his brother, who ultimately ignores him, tossing a butter knife into the sink. “Brother!”

“What?!” Sukuna snaps, running a hand down. His little brother is unfazed by his tone, happily munching away on the toast he had prepared for him.

“Big sis forgot her lunch again!” Yuuji always referred to you as his big sister, even though you were dating his older brother. Sukuna made a mental note to discuss calling you by either your last name or first name, whatever you preferred, when you got home from work.

“No, I handed it to her,” Sukuna is about to call Yuuji a brat for lying when he spots your Bento box wrapped in a cherry blossom cloth on the entrance table by the front door. He swears you’d lose your head if it weren't attached to your body. This was the third time you had forgotten your lunch this week. “Dumb little brat.” he snatches it off the entrance table to put it back in the fridge for you. “She’d if it wasn’t for delivery services and convenience stores. Always forgetting her shit.”

“She didn’t forget it.” Yuuji’s addition has his brother shutting the door to the fridge to box still in hand.

“The hell you mean she didn’t forget it?”

The smell of sterilized wipes makes your empty stomach twist. Maybe the fasting and the protein shake in the morning weren't cutting it anymore. This meant you would have to eat a bit more, which was something you didn’t want to do. Not when your beach trip with Sukuna and the boys was around the corner.

“Hey.” One of your coworkers tapped her knuckles on the door of the exam room you were cleaning. “Once you’re done here, you can take your lunch if you want.”

“Lunch?” You laugh, pulling your gloves off and tossing them in the trashcan. “If you count a protein shake as lunch, I’ll take it.”

“Oh,” your coworker covered her mouth, “ I think I just ruined the surprise.” Surprise? What the hell was she talking about? “Your boyfriend is in the lobby with your lunch.”

Oh fuck.

Without another word, you rushed through the office, heading to the lobby. Sukuna stood by the front desk with a scowl over his tattooed face. He was pissed, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to face him, but the plot to hide vanished the second his crimson eyes shot in your direction.

A chill ran down your spine as the sheer coldness in his gaze had you frozen in your spot until he motioned for you to come over with his index and middle finger. You approached him, smoothing out your scrubs, avoiding eye contact at all costs, which lasted for a second before Sukuna could use his fingers to lift your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes.

“Let’s take a walk.” The sharpness of his tone left no room for discussion

“Okay.”

He at least waited until he was outside to turn and glare down at you. You would have to thank him for that. “Care to explain how you forgot your lunch?” His jaw is clenched, and the veins are popping out of his neck as he attempts to hold back his anger.

“I uh—”

“And before you even think about telling me ‘you forgot’ for the third time this week, long and hard about how you wanna answer my question.”

“I left it behind.”

Sukuna nodded with a scoff. “So does this mean you haven’t forgotten your lunch all week, or have you purposely left it behind?” You give him a guilt-ridden nod. “Why?” His being short and questioning your motives was exactly how you imagined his reaction if he found out what you were doing.

“Because of my diet.”

“Diet, the fuck you mean your diet?”

Your cheeks burn as he repeats the word diet ten more times as if repeating it will help him understand your reasoning. Sukuna listens to you sigh in defeat before sitting on the fountain's edge in front of the medical complex where you work. His frustration blinded him so much that he didn’t notice how you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth or how your leg bounced anxiously.

He sat down, putting your bento box off to the side. “Why are you skipping meals on this ‘diet’?” The bastard was using air quotes now.

“My coworker showed it to me. Two meals with protein shakes and eat only one big meal or day I could tone up.”

“So you’re basically ‘starving’ yourself to tone up?”

“Can you stop using air quotes?”

“I will once you tell me why you’re skipping meals for the shitty diet you don’t even need to be on. If you want to focus on your health and getting toned up, do it. I’ll go to the gym and show you how to use the machines. I’ll even spot you. But so that you know, I think you’re perfect the way you are.”

“You’re obligated to say that because you’re my boyfriend.” Your attitude in your tone has said boyfriend glaring daggers. “You’re muscular and buff, and I’m—“ you pout, “ I’m just me.”

“Yeah, and I want you, all of you.” He’s getting fed up with the piss-poor attitude you have going on. “What’s with the self-hate.”

Sukuna was expecting more attitude or possibly the silent treatment, but you didn’t; instead, it was quiet as your delicate fingers rubbed against your pants. “I-I bought a new swimsuit for the trip to the beach and—” your boyfriend perked up, interest peaked. “And it’s a little snug in some places.”

“Snug?”

“Yeah.” When you first got the swimsuit, you saw nothing wrong with it, but a friend of yours pointed out that your bottoms were a bit snug in the ass region—seeing that your beach trip was two weeks away, your coworker recommended the not-so-awesome diet you were on since you wanted to tone up; because if your friend thought it was snug. You could only imagine what your boyfriend would think. “I just wanna look good for you.”

“Oi.”

“Ye-mph!” Just as you turned to look at him, he shoved the tip of a rice ball into your mouth.

“I need to see you in those bottoms.” There was a certain cuteness with how he puffed his cheeks out as you eagerly chewed on the rice ball. Once you finish swallowing, you grab it by the end and pull it out, holding the remainder of it in your hand

“You want to see?”

“Of course, why the fuck would you listen to some nobody? Let me see them, and I’ll tell you what I think.”

That was the last thing you wanted, but you knew he wouldn’t let this go until you did. Taking another bite of the delicious rice ball, you sighed in defeat. “I’ll show you, Sukuna,” He flicked his finger against your forehead. “What was that for?!” He shoved the second rice ball into your mouth, silencing you.

“For being a dumbass, eat your lunch and bring those bottoms back to my apartment.” He pressed a kiss against your cheek. “I gotta get back to work, but don’t forget I love you the way you are. Please don’t starve yourself because you assume I wouldn’t like something on you.”

You ate all your lunch while dreading the mere thought of him seeing you in the bottoms, which your friend had deemed too tight. The anxiety of what was to come had your day flying by, and before you knew it, you were peeking your head out of the bathroom of Sukuna’s apartment. Your boyfriend sat on the edge of the bed, watching you closely.

“Promise you’ll be honest. I’m dead serious, Kuna.”

“Promise.” When you stepped out of the bathroom, Sukuna’s eyes widened at the sight of the tight red bottoms you wore. They were snug and all the right ways. They were hugging your hips and the curve of your ass perfectly. The color complimented your skin tone. You were so fucking perfect. Your friend must have told you that your bottoms look too snug because they were jealous of you.

Sukuna stood up, crowding you against the wall, inhaling sharply as you hit the cool wall. Your tattooed boyfriend sunk to his knees, his lips and teeth nipping at your thighs up to the curve of your hips. The warmth of his mouth, how you gasped, your hands gripping the pink tufts of hair.

“Kuna.”

“Throw those fucking shakes away, babe. These are perfect.” His voice was muffled as he nipped harder at your skin.

“You don’t think they’re too snug?”

“No, they're perfect.” He whispered, drawing closer and closer to your core. “Now, let's have our own little experiment. I wanna see how well they do—” crimson eyes meet your panting flushed face, “when they’re wet.”

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks

730 notes · View notes

remiratboi · 25 days ago

Text

Lost Souls Campground - Ollidar

Masterlist

Yandere!MHalfOrcXFatAFAB!G/NReader ~ 11K Words

You met when you were children, and he never spoke. You were childhood best friends. Now, a decade after you last saw him, you've returned to the very campground you grew up seeing him at. You never imagined you'd find him there again.

CW: Monster fucking, noncon/dubcon, stalking, yandere, obsessive relationship, unhealthy relationship, body image issues, bondage, gaslighting, manipulation. Let me know if I missed something.

I re-edited it and changed a few things, and posted it all as one!

Every year, your family would vacation in the Moonlight Realm. The pocket universe that had been discovered around 100 years ago. ‘Moonlight Realm’ it was affectionately called because of the creatures who dwelled there. Monsters.

As well as monsters of all kinds, the Moonlight Realm boasted of beautiful scenery, cheap rates, and what humans originally deemed “exotic cultures”.

But the humans and the monsters had settled into a comfortable coexistence, and monsters were far from rare any longer. You grew up with creatures all around you. It was common and equal. The human race had come a long way.

The little cabin you always rented for the whole summer was small and cramped. You, 3 siblings, your parents, and an elderly dog made the 2 bedroom unit feel like a shoebox. From a very young age, you had learned all the best hiding spots and getaways in the park. When you were around 10 years old, you found that apparently someone else had found them too.

A young half orc named Ollidar, or Ollie.

You didn’t speak the same language, and the first time you met, it had been awkward and confusing. You had tried to tell him he was welcome, and that there was enough room for the both of you. He seemed to understand, as he ended up sitting across from you in the small natural clearing that sat just inside the forest.

You probed him with questions, you tried acting things out, you tried writing them down with a stick in the dirt. He didn’t respond. Sometimes it looked like he understood something but he never gave any reply. Just sat there, watching you. Sometimes he’d smile shyly.

The first summer it had been a lot to get used to. He started meeting you every day in the same spot. Sometimes he’d read, or listen to music on his AirPods, but mostly he watched you.

You wasted a few days trying to get him to respond, but since he never did, it slowly switched to you just talking to him. You told him… everything. You had to fill the silence. It would be too awkward if not.

You told him about your friends back home, your cat who you missed terribly and hoped was liking the pet sitter. About your favourite movies, books, foods. You told him about your fears, you weren’t sure why. You told him embarrassing stories. Sometimes you even worried he would think you were lame or weird and leave, but he never did. He just listened.

The summer came to an end and you did your best to tell him goodbye. That you hoped to see him again.

And you would. Every year. Every summer you spent two glorious months glued to each other’s sides. Your families became close through you. He had a sister and two moms. Your parents got along, and all of your siblings as well.

No one understood why he never spoke. It wasn’t a language barrier anymore. After 7 summers together both families knew more than enough about the other’s language. Enough to communicate with little confusion. He seemed to understand everything. If you asked him to pass you something, he would. If you gave him something he didn’t want, he’d shake his head. But he never spoke.

You stopped going on family vacations when you turned 18. You had moved out, so had most of your siblings. Your parents decided it was time for your own family vacations.

The first summer that you weren’t going, hit you harder than you’d ever imagined. Your chest hurt.

The next year was better.

And the next.

Soon you were 28 and that little half orc was just a fond, albeit, bittersweet memory.

Until your parents decide to do a sort of reunion trip this year. All of your siblings, and their families, plus you and your parents, would be taking a summer vacation to Lost Souls Campground in the Moonlight Realm this year.

It had barely changed. Some machines had been upgraded, the cabins had clearly been renovated to function with modernity, but other wise it was beautiful, serene, and just like you remembered it.

“It’s you.” A strong deep voice full of awe whispered from behind you. You turned around and was met with a face indeed in awe. It took a moment but you realized this was the first time you’d ever heard his voice.

“Oh wow!” You exclaimed. Genuine joy spreading across your face. “You’re here?!” You cried and raced up to him. He didn’t even flinch as you threw yourself at him. His arms opened and he gathered you in a powerful embrace. There was a hint of desperation in the way he clung to your soft body.

You felt a pang of anxiety that had been previously overtaken by the shock of seeing him. You were not thin anymore. And while you loved your body, and felt sexy in it, not everyone else was as comfortable with fat bodies as you were. What if he didn’t want you like this?

Want me like this? What am I thinking?!

You tried to pull yourself away from the hug, but he held tight.

“It’s you…” he muttered into your hair. He was warm, and huge. The orc part of his genes must have been strong. He dwarfed you. It took a lot for someone to make you feel small. Some part of your brain short circuited when you finally registered he had been lifting you. You panicked slightly then, worried about being too heavy and pushed yourself from his chest. He reluctantly lowered you down.

You were blushing from feet to head as you smoothed out your clothes. “Sorry, I… I was just surprised to see you.” You stuttered out. You looked up at his face. He was beautiful. You could see hints of the boy you knew, but he had grown, developed thick muscles, his face thinned out and lengthened.

“You came back.” He replied. His gaze was hyper focused on you. It seemed nothing else registered to him any longer. You squirmed a bit under such overwhelming attention.

“Yeah, we stopped back then, when all of us had moved out. But we are doing a sort of reunion trip this summer!” You explained excitedly. You felt giddy. You didn’t even really understand why. You felt excitement at seeing him.

“Does your family still come here every year?” You asked and leaned around him to see if any of them were standing near by.

“No, just me.” He answered. For the first time since seeing you, his gaze dropped. His cheeks darkened.

“You must really love this ratty old place, huh?” You joked and nudged his arm with your elbow.

“I guess.” He replied, still avoiding eye contact. “So how long are you here for?” He asked.

“The whole summer!” You exclaimed, throwing your arms out wide as if that would show the physical manifestation of time. “I had about a decade of vacations days saved up, so I decided to take the whole summer. Everyone else is just here for a couple weeks.”

He nodded and glanced back up into your eyes. “So just you and your partner are here for the summer? Or do you have kids now?” He asked and dropped his gaze again.

You chuckled. Kind of a transparent attempt my guy. “No, no partner. No kids. Never found anyone willing to put up with me long enough.” You joked self deprecatingly. “You of all people know how much I can talk.” You grimaced at yourself.

“That was my favourite thing about you.” He replied quietly. He seemed nervous. You blushed again. “The way you spoke was mesmerizing.” He continued before, it seemed, he could stop himself.

A manic sounding giggle escaped your lips. “Wow, marry me?” You joked. It was his turn to laugh like a crazy person.

“So, uh,” you continued “how long are you here for?”

“Whole summer.” He answered and smiled up at you. “How solo were you hoping to spend your time?” He ran his hand down the back of his neck and rested it on his shoulder.

You laughed and placed your hand on his arm.

The first few days with Ollie were a little awkward. Not in an uncomfortable way, but in that you didn’t know eachother anymore. It had been a decade since you had spent time together, and while he talked a little more than he used to, it was still few and far in between.

You couldn’t tell if he found it awkward though. He never mentioned it. He just followed you around. He seemed content to just exist nearby you.

The first two weeks breezed by in a flurry of family, kids, games, and way too much food. At the end of it, you waved them goodbye and excitedly hurried back to the little cabin. This would be the first time you’d had it all to yourself.

You pulled the door shut behind you and basked in the quiet for a moment. You could always hear other campers outside. Kids shrieking, vehicles moving, multiple different music sources all floating on top of eachother. And inside was a sort of haven from it all.

You made your way to the kitchen to grab a drink when you found a plate full of cookies, uncovered and still warm on the counter. You were surprised, you hadn’t noticed anyone baking before they’d left? Weird.

You inspected a cookie. Sniffed it, licked it. You didn’t immediately explode, so you shrugged your shoulders to yourself and took a bite. It was a very good cookie. You grabbed a couple more and threw them in a baggie. You gathered some other things, and changed into your bathing suit.

The beach was a short 5 or so minute walk from your cabin, and you munched away at your cookie the whole way. It was a bit overcast, so the beach wasn’t as crowded as it usually was.

You claimed a spot near another family, so that you felt comfortable leaving your stuff alone if you swam, and laid your towel out. You pulled your slinky bathing suit cover over your head and dropped it next to your things.

It was still a bit early in the day to go into the water so you opted for sunbathing with the hopes you’d get all warm and toasty then cool off in the water. Soon you were face down on a towel, your head on your arms, dozing away. You were interrupted by a prolonged blocking of sun rays.

You craned your head up and struggled to make out who it was looming over you with the suns rays blinding you from behind them. You glanced down at their feet next to you and recognized pale green skin.

“You liked the cookies?” Ollies deep voice asked. You were about to say yes, when you processed the implications of him being the one to hand deliver, into your kitchen, without asking, the surprise treat you’d found. You sat up and tugged his hand so he wasn’t standing in front of the sun anymore and you could actually see him.

“Uh, yeah they were good. But, that means you were in my cabin?” You asked incredulously.

“Oh, sorry, was that inappropriate?” He asked, genuine concern seeming to lace his tone. “Sorry, I sometimes…” he trailed off. He looked anxious again. You chose to let him work through what he wanted to say. Words were hard for him, and you wanted him to feel safe sharing them with you. Even if right now you were kind of peeved with him. “Sometimes I don’t understand what’s.. ok, or whatever.” He finished.

“Well, I appreciate your apology. No, going into someone else’s space without their consent, isn’t ok.” You softened. He wasn’t trying to cross a boundary. And he had apologized immediately. “How did you get in anyway?” You queried, already moving on from the emotions.

“I, uh, it was unlocked.” He stuttered out. Your eyebrows knit together. You could have sworn it was locked. But you shrugged past the confusion quickly. How else would he have gotten in?

“Weird. Well, anyway, I do like the cookies, they are delicious and very sweet of you.” You placed your hand on his lower calf where you could reach in a comforting way. “Just next time please knock.” You winked and giggled.

He nodded emphatically.

You and Ollie spent the day at the beach. You realized later that you never actually asked him to join you, but you weren’t displeased that he did. Even after only two weeks, you were pretty used to having him around you again. It was just like when you were kids.

Well, almost. You couldn’t help but notice some of his gazing wasn’t quite as… wholesome as it had been when you were kids. But it didn’t bother you. He wasn’t lewd about it at all, and if you were being honest with yourself, you kind of enjoyed it. Also, you had to admit, you had done some gazing yourself.

He was huge. He was muscled. He was gorgeous, and didn’t seem to be aware of it. He was exquisitely shy around everyone but you. And on top of all that, he seemed to notice only you.

You had watched countless others throw themselves at him, just to be rejected one way or another. More often than not, it seemed he just genuinely didn’t realize he was being hit on. Sometimes he’d be forced into straight up turning someone down, but mostly he’d just give them a puzzled look, and walk away.

Today was no different. You were reaching for the sunscreen when a volleyball sprayed sand all over you. You yelped and sand filled your mouth. A very pretty woman jogged over.

“O-M-G! I am so sorry about that!” She said in one of the fakest voices you’d ever heard. She said it to Ollie, not you, even though he hadn’t been hit with the spray at all. Normally you would have said something sassy, but you were too busy spitting sand from your mouth.

Ollie didn’t respond to her, but he leaned over to grab the volleyball from where it had landed between you.

“I’m Selina!” She said, all bubbly. “I’ve seen you around, you should play with us some time!”

Ollie looked up at her, volleyball still in his hands. He glanced at you. He turned back to her and thrust the ball towards her. He held it tightly in one single hand. You couldn’t help but notice how large his hand was.

“You should be more careful.” He replied, emotionless.

She took the ball and giggled anxiously. “Oh, yeah of course, we totally will.” She smiled awkwardly at you. “So, do you want to come play now?” She shot her shot.

“No.” Ollie replied.

“Aw, come on. We don’t bite.” She joked and wiggled her finger at him.

Ollie glared at her now. His face no longer impassive but furious. It surprised you. He didn’t normally express much emotion visibly.

“First you spray sand all over my partner,” he started.

Partner?!

“Then you apologize to me, not even the one you sprayed.” He continued, his tone developing an edge. The girl raised the hand not holding the ball in front of her and took a hesitant step back.

“THEN you hit on me in front of them, and don’t take no for an answer?” He shook his head at her, his soft black curls bouncing with the movement. “I am so, painfully, not interested.” He finished.

The woman blushed deeper red at each of his words, before spinning on her heel and practically running away.

“That was kind of rude.” You said quietly. You could feel his annoyance rolling off of him.

“Did I say anything untrue?” He asked you. His words were demanding, but his tone was soft. He was always soft with you. He glared in the direction she had ran.

“Well, not really.” You answered speculatively. “Mostly. Partner?” You asked and turned to look at him.

“Ah, yeah, sorry. I guess that wasn’t true.” He replied. He glanced up at you from the side, but didn’t turn to face you.

“Why did you say it then?” Your voice sounded small, but you felt bold for vocalizing the question pounding in your head.

He turned to look at you for a moment. A fire blazed in his eyes. He didn’t say anything for a long time. He just stared into your eyes. You found you couldn’t look away.

Finally, “Sorry, I guess I wanted more reason to defend you. I felt… more angry than made sense.” He turned to look back down in front of him. You mulled his words for a moment. That made sense. What you still wondered about was the feelings that made him ‘more angry than made sense’.

You reached out and lay a hand on his shoulder. He tensed for a moment, but then quickly relaxed into your touch. “Thank you for defending me.” You said quietly. A smile played at his lips. He glanced back at you for just a second.

“Oh, also I think that was the most words I’ve ever heard you say all in a row about the same topic.” You teased him.

Your hand still lay on his shoulder. A part of you recognized the moment was over, and it made sense to remove your hand. But you didn’t. His skin was warm and you could feel his muscles tense and move with him.

You were surprised by a sudden, intense desire to touch him everywhere.

“I like your bathing suit by the way.” He mumbled. You almost didn’t catch it. Your cheeks burned and you stared at him for a second too long.

You snapped out of it and finally pulled your hand from his shoulder. You found yourself fidgeting with the ties that hung down the side of your string bikini. To be honest, you hadn’t expected to see him here, and this suit was one you normally reserved solely for private sun bathing as it was pretty skimpy. You were suddenly very aware of the soft rolls on your sides. The way your thighs pressed together.

“Oh, really?” Your laugh had a slight edge. “My mom told me it’s not… flattering on my body.” You didn’t know why you told him that. It was embarrassing. Not only had your mother insulted you, but she’d body shamed you. And now you were telling the absolute hunk of a man sitting next to you looking like an Adonis? “But I like it, still.” You finished lamely.

You looked up then to see Ollie staring at you. The fire in his eyes had returned. The same fire he’d had when you asked him why he’d called you his partner. “It’s very flattering. Your mother is a lovely woman, but clearly blind.” He spoke with an almost comedic level of seriousness. You fought the instinct to brush off the compliment. You didn’t want to. You wanted to believe him.

You tucked your hair behind your ear and smiled to yourself. “Thank you.” Your voice was soft.

After that day on the beach, Ollie became significantly more protective of you. More possessive. He was always around you. He brought you coffee and breakfast, he fixed little things around the cabin for you, he planned activities for you both to do.

You wouldn’t have thought him a hardcore hobby guy, but he took you rock climbing, and snorkelling. He took you to a local pottery studio, he brought you to the library in town. He always had you doing something.

It was starting to drive you crazy.

You had wanted to relax?! Not that you didn’t enjoy the activities, and his company, but it never stopped. You were on vacation. You had planned to lie on the beach for two months straight, eating, drinking, and probably smoking a lot of weed. Now here you were, sober, and painting in the woods.

You felt guilty. This was a beautiful activity, and you were genuinely enjoying it. But it just hadn’t been what you planned for. You would have loved a few things here and there, but not every day, all day long.

You decided to tell him that evening. The painting class ended, and you were actually pretty pleased with your work. It was a life painting of the little waterfall and pond the class had been set up next to. You weren’t anything special, but you were proud of it nonetheless.

Ollie jumped into his old, open jeep and carefully placed both of your paintings behind his seat. He leaned across the bench seat to offer you his hand. He pulled you up onto the bench like you weighed nothing. It’s something he must have done 100 times by now, but every single time, you blushed like a fool. Your core heated at the casual way he handled you.

“You’re not heavy, you know.” Ollie broke the silence as you headed back to the camp.

“… what?” You asked, confused.

“You always look so worried after I help you into the car.” He glanced at you then back to the road. “You’re not heavy.” He stated matter of factly

You blushed again. He had no idea.

“Oh, yeah, I guess I’m worried about that.” You lied lamely. You’d always been bad at lying. You chewed on your lip.

His brows furrowed slightly. “Ok, so if that’s not it,” His voice was smooth and deep. He didn’t speak much. Even now. He mostly used basic gestures to communicate. But sometimes, when you were alone, he’d talk. You loved it. More than you probably should have. A warmth spread from the centre of you and radiated out. “what is it then?” He continued, pulling you out of your own thoughts.

“Uh, what is what then?” You replied, hoping he’d drop it if you pretended not to understand.

“Why do you blush so hard every time you get in my vehicle?” He asked. There was no getting around that one.

You sighed to yourself. Do you tell him? What the hell, you thought to yourself. What does it matter if he thinks you’re a horny slut? He’s just some guy you’re going to see for another month and a half, then never again. Who cares… right?

“I… gods this is embarrassing,” you started. You saw his one eyebrow raise. “It’s… ok… it’s hot as fuck, ok?” You forced out. You could feel how warm your cheeks were. This was worse than you thought it would be. You cared more than you liked.

“… what’s hot?” He asked slowly. You died a little. Of COURSE he was going to make you spell it out.

“Omg Ollie, I just… I’m not… small alright? So having a very attractive man casually lift me like it’s nothing?” You stared out the open window, unable or unwilling to look at him. “That’s really hot.”

He nodded slowly beside you. You could see in your peripheral that his cheeks had also darkened.

“Is it hot because any man is lifting you, or because I’m lifting you?” He finally asked.

Jesus Christ

“You know,” you started, your voice an octave too high. “I REALLY haven’t given it much thought.”

It was silent in the car for a long time.

Finally you couldn’t take it anymore. “So…”

He didn’t look at you. His knuckles were white on the wheel.

“So what are we doing tonight?” You asked.

“Nothing.” He replied, too quickly. Your heart fell. Here it was. Just like always.

You were quiet the rest of the drive. He dropped you off at your cabin. Normally he’d jump out and open your door for you. Not tonight. Had you really read him that wrong?

You shut the door behind you and turned around to speak. Before you could, he shifted the gear and drove slowly away.

You spent the evening alternating between disappointed, embarrassed and annoyed. It surprised you how hard it was to keep your mind off of it. Normally rejection rolled off of you. You were pretty used to it, unfortunately. Dating while fat was… something else.

But this was different somehow. You cared this time. It hit you like a truck when you realized it. For the first time, in a very long time, you cared.

You hated it. You hated giving someone that power. Being vulnerable wasn’t something you did well.

You had spent your entire life being “too much”. You were too big, both in personality and body. You were too loud, you had too many emotions, and thoughts. You talked too much. And people were not scared to tell you. You couldn’t even count the times and ways people had defined you as “too much”. The blatant words, the subtle actions, the micro aggressions. That was your life.

But not him. He had told you his favourite thing about you was how much you talked. Which, honestly, felt fake, but it was hard not to believe his genuine eyes. He had done so many things to make you think he…

You instinctively shut down that train of thought. You shouldn’t get your hopes up. He’s made it clear you read things wrong.

The next day came slowly. It was raining. You rolled over in bed, not eager to start the day. You debated going back to sleep, when you heard dishes clinking.

You shot up, fear ripping through your chest. Had you imagined that? No. You heard it again.

A chill settled in your bones as you carefully, silently, crawled out of bed. You wore a skimpy tank top that barely covered you. It was low cut, you never wore a binder/bra, you didn’t need to, you had been blessed with only tiny handfuls for tits, and it rested under your waist showing your lower stomach. The booty shorts you wore didn’t make things any better. They were practically underwear. You debated trying to throw more clothes on, but knew the closet doors creaked.

The little cabin was small, but the bedrooms were on one side, and the kitchen on the complete opposite. You made your way towards it, picking up a badminton racket on the way. It had been discarded in the hallway after another one of your activities with Ollie.

You raised the racket above your shoulder and took a deep breath to steel yourself. This was it. You slowly stepped around the corner. Your mind filled with murderers and villains.

The tall, pale green half orc that was bent over the stove with his back to you was not what you were expecting. You practically sobbed with relief.

“Ollie?!” You demanded, your voice cracking and sounding a lot more desperate than you’d like. He turned slightly, but didn’t look away from whatever he was doing.

“Good morning!” He said cheerily. “Sorry if I woke you. I just wanted to make you breakfast to make up for yesterday.” He continued. You noticed now milk and eggs on the counter. The smell of food wafted towards you.

You didn’t say anything. Your brain was struggling to compute. You had like 7 questions. How had he got in? Why did he do this? Why did he think it was ok? But most importantly, what does he mean ‘make up for yesterday’?!

Just as you realized you’d been standing there, slackjawed, not answering, for far too long, he turned. As soon as he saw you, he froze. His cheeks went dark green and the flipper he was holding clattered to the ground. You were confused for about .02 whole seconds before you remembered you were almost naked.

“Uh, I’ll be right back.” You blurted out and raced back to your room. You threw the door shut and leaned against it. What the hell was he doing here? In your cabin! While you were asleep!

Your mind raced as you threw a loose tee over the tank, and a pair of thin sweats on. You made your way back to the kitchen.

“Ollie, I think we need to talk about boundaries-” you started. You stopped when you noticed the front door was open. You looked from the door to the kitchen. He was gone. A thin plume of smoke started on the stove. Something was burning.

A quick toss of the pan into the sink dealt with that. You turned off the burner and leaned on the counter in bafflement.

No, fuck that! He doesn’t get to just run away from this!

You ran after him.

You stormed down the little path, through the camp, and straight to Ollies cabin. You always thought his cabin looked less like a vacation home, and more like a regular home.

Three raps rung out as you knocked on the front door.

No answer.

You were like 90% sure he had gone home.

“Ollie, I know you’re in there. We need to talk.” You called. It was silent for a long moment. You almost began second guessing yourself.

“I… I can’t.” Came softly from inside.

Can’t?! CAN’T?!

“Like HELL you can’t!” You shouted through the door. You cringed slightly when you ended up being louder than you’d meant. A couple walking by stared at you. You raised your hand and smiled unconvincingly.

“Ollie,” you continued, a bit quieter. “You just broke into my cabin while I was sleeping. We are talking about this, right now.” You gritted your teeth. “Open. The. Door.” You left no room for discussion.

A long moment passed with no reply. You fidgeted. Just when you had started to consider squeezing your ass through a window, his voice came through the door.

“It’s open.” He answered.

Oh.

You turned the handle and pushed the door open. He sat, in the afternoon light filtering through the window, on his couch, head hung so you couldn’t see his face, with a large pillow gripped in front of him.

He looked sad. You hadn’t expected sad. You don’t know what you’d expected, but not sad. You steeled your resolve.

“Ok, this has gone too far.” You started. “You’re a great guy, but you don’t seem to understand boundaries, so I’m going to lay them out, clear as day, and if you cross them again, that’s going to be it, Ollie.” You finished and crossed your arms. He looked up through his curls. He looked like he was in agony. You instinctively took a step back, surprised by his intense reaction.

You shook your head, trying not to let those puppy dog eyes break you down. “How do you keep getting into my cabin?” You demanded. “And don’t give me some shit about it being unlocked. I know it was locked last night.”

He looked up, further. His eyes scanned your face. He seemed to be debating if he wanted to answer. You waited.

Finally “I… have a key.” He said, guilt lacing his words.

“A KEY?!” You practically shouted. “Where the hell did you get a key?!”

He groaned and leaned back on the couch. He ran his hand across his face. “I own it.”

Your mouth dropped open. “What does that mean?” You said slowly, dangerously.

“I, I bought the campground a few years ago.”

“You own the ENTIRE campground?!” You demanded. Your voice had started to enter dog whistle pitches.

He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. He buried his face in his hands. The large pillow was squished and stuck out at weird angles.

“You never came back.” He said quietly. The dam broke. “One day, you just never came back. 4 years went by and I did everything I could to find you. No one had information, no one knew how to contact you or your family. I kept coming back every year, desperate to see you again, to hear you again. But you were never here.”

He glanced up at you. You felt numb. His eyes were filled with sorrow.

“4 years after you last came they were going to shut it down. It hadn’t been doing as great and the owners were old. They told us it would be the last year. I had some money from my grandparents inheritance, and…” he shook his head at himself.

“I couldn’t let the only connection I had to you disappear. Even if you never came back, all those places we had spent time in, the feelings I had for you, here I got to live in them. I felt you everywhere. Every little memory.”

His cheeks were a deep dark green, but he seemed unable to stop the flow of words from his mouth for the first time in your entire lives.

“I made a lot of changes, put a ton of work in, and the campground is doing great now. This is my life here. I don’t run the day to day anymore, but I live here, I maintain it.”

He looked back down at the ground. “And you finally came back.”

You stood there, stunned. Long moments of uneasy silence passed between you.

“Ollie this…” you didn’t even know what to say. Panic started to rise in your throat. “This is too mu-” you heard yourself start to say it. The words you’d heard your entire life. Too much.

“I need to go.” You blurted out and turned to leave. A noise came from behind you.

Ollie grabbed your shoulder and turned you around to face him. He pushed you against the door, your back to it. He held you there with his hands against the door next to your head. His huge arms framed your face and he bent down to look at you. His face was so close.

“Please, don’t go, just listen, I-” he stuttered. Desperation filled his eyes. Frustration filled yours.

“No!” You shouted. “You don’t get to stop me. You don’t get anything!” You poked his chest, jabbing your finger accusingly. “You don’t get to reject me then tell me you’re obsessed with me!” You spat, the words cruel. You didn’t care. Your nerves were frayed. You didn’t know how to handle yourself after his confession. His obsession.

Confusion pulled his eyebrows together. “Reject you…?” He asked. You blushed. You hadn’t meant to bring that up. But apparently even now, your stupid little monkey brain could only think about that.

“Yesterday.” He still didn’t understand. “And today.” He grimaced but still seemed not to understand. You rolled your eyes and ran your hand through your hair. “You’re so dense sometimes.” You muttered.

“Yesterday, I told you… that I thought you were hot, and how turned on I was, ok? And then you just ran away.” You couldn’t look up at him not with his face so close. Not with his eyes boring into yours. Not with his lips just inches away. “And then today, you see me in skimpy clothes and run away again.” You couldn’t believe you were about to say it. “Like, I get if I’m not your type, but… I guess I just thought you felt differently ok?” You looked up into his eyes for one second before looking back down. The desperation hadn’t gone away, but it looked hungrier than before.

“This doesn’t even matter, I shouldn’t be talking about this right now.” You placed a hand on his chest and pushed softly. He didn’t move. “I need to process what you just told me, and I’m not thinking right.”

“I didn’t run away because I wasn’t into you.” He said. His voice was surprisingly hoarse. Gravel had filled his throat. You looked up in surprise. His cheeks had a new kind of heat to them. Hunger filled his eyes. But there was also fear. You could see how unsure he was.

“I ran away, both times, because I was about one second away from throwing you to the ground and fucking you.” Your breath caught. Your eyebrows pulled together slightly. You shouldn’t be so happy to hear that, you thought. He’s crazy. He’s obsessed with you. Like actually.

But he’d never hurt you.

A small voice in the back of your mind said.

“I love you.” He held your eyes. His gaze softened slightly. The hunger didn’t go though. Neither did the fear. “I always have. I could listen to you talk for the rest of my life. You’re funny, witty, gorgeous, and a bit of a dumbass.” He smirked. “I would do anything for you.” You believed him. “Just give me a chance to show you.”

He moved one hand from beside your head to rest it on your waist. He pulled himself into you. His hard chest pressed against yours, the solid door against your back. You couldn’t breathe.

You felt hot. You felt like you were standing on a knife’s blade. Fall into him, into this crazy, terrifying fantasy, or fall back into reality. What if you could make fantasy a reality? Did you even want that? Some rational part of you screamed. He had been in your home while you slept. He bought an entire huge business because he might get to see you again. He was obsessed with you. He was dangerous. How many times had he let himself in while you slept? What could he have done?

You felt yourself shaking your head before you’d decided to. You pushed your hand on his chest again. “Ollie, I need some space. I need to think.” You said.

“Please,” he begged. “Please just let me show you how well I can take care of you. I can give you everything you’ve ever wanted.” Some part of you wanted that to be true. Wanted him to be true. But could you handle the obsession? What if it went deeper, darker.

You shook your head again and he let out an exasperated groan. “You’re not giving me a chance.” He complained. And edge of mania had started to show in his voice and expressions. “I need to show you. If you just let me show you, then it will all be ok.” He spoke fast and low. You felt his fingers playing with the hem of your shirt, then the hem of the tank top underneath.

“Ollie-” you warned.

“No, no, just, you don’t understand.” He cut you off. He leaned down and kissed your neck. You froze. “I’ve been waiting years for you. You think now that I’ve finally got you back, I’m going to let you go?” Darkness seeped at the edges of your vision as fear took hold. “That moment a month ago changed my life, and I’ve spent every second since learning about you.”

His hand on your waist tucked under your tank, and he placed it against your ribs. His hand was huge. Almost comically so. And it rested just inches from your chest. No fabric separating you any longer. All he had to do was move up.

His other hand came down to hold the back of your neck. He pressed you even harder against the door. His breath was ragged as he kissed up and down your neck and shoulder in between words.

“I know what you like. I know how you like it. I’ve watched you.” A sob wracked through your chest at that. The first time you’d reacted outwardly since he started kissing you.

“You’re so lonely. I’ve heard you cry in your bed at night. I’ve heard you beg to be loved. That’s what I want to do, baby.” He pulled back and looked deep into your eyes. “Let me love you.”

“Let me love you.” Ollies plea rang through your head. He was so close. Too close.

“Let me make you feel good, love.” He said. He pushed his knee between your legs, parting them. You gasped and wiggled but he held you firm between his hand on your waist and his arm bracing the door by your head.

You didn’t know what to do. You could scream. Somehow that felt like the wrong thing to do. You knew you weren’t thinking straight. You could feel your cunt throb against his leg.

“I want to show you how well I know you.” He nuzzled into your neck, nipping at your soft flesh. You couldn’t help the half sob, half moan that ripped from your chest. “I want to show you how well I can take care of you.” He pleaded with you. He raised his knee and ground into your clit through your clothes. You moaned and tried pushing him away. He didn’t budge.

“Please, Ollie, don’t-” you tried to beg him to let you go. Just as you started talking he reached up under your shirts and rolled his thumb over your nipple. You choked on your words.

“I’ve wanted to touch you for so long.” He whispered into your neck. “But I thought you’d never look at me that way. Until yesterday.” He squeezed the nipple he was rolling. Your back arched instinctively and you pushed yourself into his body. He groaned.

“Everything about you is so expressive.” He practically growled. The words flowed like they’d never been stopped up before. “I used to imagine you were singing. The melody of your voice. I would play beautiful instruments in my mind worthy of keeping up with you.”

He ran his lips up your neck to your jawline. You felt him tremble slightly. He didn’t kiss you there. He just lingered. “I wished a thousand times I could talk to you. That I could open my mouth and words even half as clever as yours could fall out.”

He pulled back and looked you in the eyes. You were still pressed against him, your pussy was resting, and throbbing on his leg. His thumb rolled your nipple slowly while he spoke.

“But you didn’t force me to talk. You were ok to let me be silent. I never got to thank you for that.” You saw a pain flash through his eyes. He didn’t break eye contact and you found yourself unable to. You were surprised when your own heart throbbed at his pain. “You were… are the only person in my entire life to accept me as I am, no expectations.”

He kissed you. It was soft, warm, but just like everything else, desperate. You didn’t move for a moment. You didn’t know what to do. He kissed you harder, and you felt his anxiety rise. The panic that you weren’t going to kiss him back. You felt how badly he wanted you to kiss him back.

And then you realized, you wanted to. You wanted to kiss him. Not like this, but you did. Some where along the lines, you’d developed feelings for this huge, stupid hot, and completely crazy man. You knew it was dangerous. The fear chilled you. But the desire warmed you right back up.

Suddenly you were kissing him back. Your hands were in his hair, on his neck, his shoulders. He leaned in even further, crushing you against his chest. His other hand came down to your neck and gripped you tightly. The hand on your chest explored further, touching all of you. Just as quickly as it started, it became overwhelming.

“Ollie, stop, not like this.” You said in between kisses. You tried pushing him back again. He growled again, but this time it was frustrated, feral.

“Stop pushing me away.” His words were heavy with warning. “You want this, me. I know you do. Just let me show you how good i can be. How i can make you feel.” He spun you around faster than you could react. He pressed you against the door, his hard cock pressing into your lower back. He twisted one of your arms behind your back and held you there. “I don’t want to hurt you, but you wont give me a chance.” His other hand snaked back under your shirt and pinched your nippled, hard. You gasped. “I know you’ll love it, eventually.”

Tears started to spill from your eyes silently. You didn’t fight back. You knew there was no point. He was so much bigger and stronger than you. It was more than just that though. For some reason you couldn’t bring yourself to. If he was telling the truth, he knew exactly what kind of things you liked. You knew how wet your pussy was already. Being taken against your will was probably your number one fantasy.

BUT IT IS JUST A FANTASY

You shouted inside your mind. You should be screaming. Fighting, kicking, anything! And yet, as he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, all you could do was think about how hot that was. He threw you around like you weighed nothing. And he wanted you, so badly. You had never been desired like this before. Not to these extremes.

He threw you down on his huge, orc sized bed. It was reinforced with a thick wood frame. You instinctively curled into the fetal position. The tears hadn’t stopped, even if you didn’t really feel that sad. You were in a strange state of disconnection. On one hand you logically understood how wrong this all was. How dangerous this was. What he was about to do to you. But emotionally, you couldn’t care less. You were dripping wet, and the way he felt about you gave you butterflies. The way he talked about you and his feelings for you, made you feel valuable. It wasn’t something you had experienced much in your life. What he had said about you being the only one to accept him, rang in your mind. Was he that for you? Could you accept what he was about to do to you because he was the only person you had never been too much for?

You could give him permission, you thought. Then at least it wouldn’t be r*pe. But a part of you knew no matter what happened, it still would be. And another, quieter, more insidious part knew you’d rather it be forced. To finally fulfill that deepest darkest fantasy.

Ollie stood over your curled body on his bed. “You’re so beautiful.” He muttered. He didn’t seem to be speaking to you, but about you. It made you blush regardless. What was wrong with you? He bent down and tried to pry your limbs apart. You held to yourself tightly.

“Don’t make me hurt you. I don’t want to, but you need to listen to me.” The warning had returned to his words. You didn’t relax your position, but when he tried again to move your body, you allowed it this time. “Good pet.” He purred, satisfaction lacing his voice. Your cunt throbbed at his words. He slowly raised you up to a sitting position.

“Take off your shirt, love.” He said softly, but with intent. You found yourself staring into his eyes while you crossed your arms across your chest to reach for the hem on either side. You paused. He nodded once, and you slowly pulled both shirts up and over your head. His breath caught as your chest was revealed. You were surprised to find he hadn’t stoped looking into your eyes, and after the shirt was past your face, your gazes caught again. You blushed and squirmed under his intense eye contact. Instinctively, you lifted your arms to cover your chest. He raised one eyebrow in a disapproving way and you froze. He reached out and gripped both of your forearms.

“If you can’t keep your arms down, I’m going to have to restrain them. This is your only warning.” You lowered them and he smiled. Your heart thudded in your chest, his approval suddenly the most important thing. Where had that shy boy gone? Where did this confident, dominant man taken over? He moved forward, kneeling with one knee in between your legs. He pushed you gently until you were lying on your back on the bed.

Ollie lifted one of your legs, and started tugging at the hem of your sweats. it suddenly became too much again and you bolted back up. Your hands gripped his on the cuff of your pants. “Wait,” you panicked.

Ollie sighed. “I warned you.” You didn’t understand for a moment, until he reached by the beds headboard and pulled an already attached silk tie out. One end was tied to the frame. An alarm went off in your head that you silenced immediately upon realising he’d prepared for some eventuality of tying you up. He quickly grabbed your right hand and started tying it tightly to the headboard. Now the panic really set in. It was too real. You started crying in earnest, blabbering and begging. You weren’t coherent. Even you didn’t know what you were saying.

It was too late.

With one hand tied, he snatched the other and repeated. You pulled and wiggled, but he clearly knew what he was doing. The ties were soft, and not tight enough to hurt, but the knots themselves were solid. He returned to slowly removing your pants.

“Please Ollie, it’s not too late, you can stop still.” You pleaded. You honestly didn’t know if you meant it or not.

“Baby, you know I can’t stop.” He replied in a patronizing voice. “I need you, don’t you understand that?” He pulled the sweatpants fully off, and you were left in only your little shorts that were basically underwear. The cold air answered the reality you had been dreading. You were soaked. Your shorts definitely had a wet spot. And if you somehow hadn’t been sure already, the look of pure, animalistic satisfaction that spread over Ollies face, solidified it.

“I knew you’d like it.” He said smugly. “I told you, i know what you like.” He leaned forward, knee in between your legs again. He brought his face next you yours and whispered in your ear. ‘I know you’re a desperate slut, just begging to be fucked into oblivion.” He placed his huge palm against your clothed cunt. The heat was tangible. “Luckily for you, I’m happy to oblige.” He teased. His voice cavalier and excited. It was like he couldn’t understand how far past ok he had gone. He raised his hand from your cunt and brought it back down in a swift, hard smack. You cried out, not able to stifle yourself. It devolved into a long drawn out moan. “You can’t lie to me, beautiful.”

He turned and kissed you, hard, frantically. His hands roamed over your body. He ground his knee up into your clit again. Your breath hitched as you tried desperately not to moan again. He pulled himself away and looked down at your still clothed pussy. He looked mesmerized.

Ollie slowly hooked his fingers in the waistband and tugged down. You pushed your ass into the bed, trying to keep the shorts from pulling down. He glanced up at you, a look of impatience on his face. “Lift.” He demanded. You relented. The shorts peeled from your skin, highlighting just how wet you were. You squirmed in embarrassment both from the exposure and the fact you were dripping. He folded the shorts and tucked them into his pants pocket. You didn’t miss that he had tossed all of your other clothes.

He leaned forward, hand reaching for you, but you started wiggling violently, trying to close your legs. “Wait, wait, Ollie, no you need-” He stopped and smacked your inner thigh, hard. You cried out, the tears redoubling. You pulled at your restraints and tried to push your legs from their positions on either side of him. He held them down.

“Do you need me to tie your legs up too?” He said condescendingly. You cried, not answering. “Hmm? And maybe a gag too?” He started leaning back, reaching for something behind him.

“No no no no, Ollie, that’s not what i mean, stop, just listen to me a second.” You begged. You sighed with relief when he paused and looked back at you.

“It’s just...” You started, then suddenly felt shy. He waited. “It’s just, you can’t touch me… yet.” He cocked his head, clearly perplexed. You wished you could hide your face. “You can’t.. I can’t…” He held your eyes, not giving you an out. “I can’t be the only one naked.” You spat out finally.

You don’t think you could ever describe the look that crossed his face then. You understood you were basically giving him permission now. And you were no longer fighting it in any way but for show. He had you, and he knew it. Thankfully, he didn’t rub it in your face.

Ollie leaned back up, until he was resting on his own legs, bent and still in between your open thighs. He smirked as he pulled his shirt up and over his head. You’d see him shirtless many times. It was a campground with a beach after all. But this time, with the settings, the circumstances, it was much more intense. The daylight filtered in through a window, and no other lights were on. Thin curtains stopped anyone from seeing inside, but did little for the light. He was muscular and toned, the light rays almost illuminating him. He was beautiful, and not overly ripped, but clearly did a lot of physical work.

The green of his skin was slightly paler than on his arms, but was replaced with a surprising amount of freckles. You hadn’t really noticed them before, but now that he was so close and you were hyper aware of everything, you saw how his skin was covered with tiny, barely visible freckles.

He started undoing the buttons on his pants. His cock was visibly hard through them. Your breath caught. You squirmed at the idea of being utterly taken by him. He hooked his thumbs under the hem of both his pants and boxers. He leaned up as if to pull them down, but stopped and raised and eyebrow.

“What do you want?” He asked, his voice leaving no room for defiance.

“Wh… what?” You asked.

“What do you want?” He asked again, enunciating each word.

“I…” you couldn’t believe he was making you say it. “I want you to take off your clothes.” You said, finally. “Please.”

He sighed hearing that, and continued pulling them down. His hard dick sprang out and it was huge just like everything else about him. You were halfway between excited and terrified. You didn’t think it would fit.

“Don’t worry love” he said, reading your expression. “We will get you nice and ready first.” He leaned over your body, his chest pressing onto yours. His dick rested against your thigh. He leaned in to your ear and whispered “and I’m not going to fuck you until you ask me to.”

He sunk two fingers deep into your cunt with no warning.

You cried out and arched your back. His fingers alone were probably thicker than any cock you’d taken. His eyes were glued on your face.

“I love you so much. I’ve been in love with you my entire life. I tried dating other people, I tried letting them in, but I couldn’t. I always compared them to you.” He spoke softly as he fucked his fingers in and out of your dripping cunt.

“I never felt safe enough to open up, and then there you were. Finally back. At first I was scared you wouldn’t recognize me. But you did. Then I was scared you wouldn’t like me, but you did. It was just like we were kids again. I almost kissed you that day.” You tried focusing on his words while he lazily thrusted into you. He was clearly not trying to make you cum. Just rile you up. You squirmed under his touch and words. It felt strange and alien to have someone want you so much.

“I spent years telling myself if I ever saw you again, I’d talk. I’d tell you everything. About myself, about my feelings. But then I saw you, and I was a kid again. A dumb kid with a crush and no ability to do anything about it.” He kissed your neck and chest while he spoke. You felt worshipped. “It didn’t make it any easier that you’re just ridiculously attractive.” You gripped the ties holding your wrists. The fear was bleeding out of you with every word.

His tone shifted. “I know I fucked up, I know I’m not… not a good person, I’m so sorry.” He sounded genuine. A pain you didn’t expect, while he was fingering you no less, laced his tone. You believed him, despite his apparent unwillingness to stop.

“Ollie,” you said breathlessly. He paused his kissing and looked up at you. “We,” you moaned between your words. “We can talk about that shit later, ok?” You found yourself smiling at his dumb face.

It was that moment you realised you might be just as crazy as he was. You wanted him to fuck you. It didn’t matter to you that a few moments ago you were crying and begging him to stop. You wanted him. You were pretty sure it wasn’t just because you were desperately writhing on his fingers. Pretty sure.

He smiled back and slowed his movements until he stopped altogether. He didn’t say anything and just looked down at you, smiling like a fool. You whimpered and ground yourself against his fingers. He groaned in response.

“I can’t believe you thought I wasn’t into you.” He teased.

“I can’t believe a lot of things, ok? I’m a self conscious idiot, and you might be a crazy stalker, I haven’t decided yet.” He chuckled and thrusted his fingers deep into you, once. You moaned loudly.

“Please.” You said, almost by accident. A dark, hungry look covered his face.

“Please what, beautiful?” His voice had lost all joviality. He was dead serious now. The words he’d been waiting his entire life for, were so close.

You squirmed on his fingers. He stayed still, staring into your eyes. “Ollie…” you trailed off. You looked away from him. You knew he was going to make you say it, but you really didn’t want him to. You felt embarrassed begging for him.

“Please say it.” He asked quietly. You were surprised by the sudden vulnerability in his voice. Your eyes dragged back to his and you could easily see the precipice he sat on. A similar one you teetered on earlier. One simple sentence and you both could have everything. Fall into the reality of what he’d done, into the messy, scary world of pushing everything good away to hold a place for the bad he’d done and the way he’d hurt you. And he had hurt you. Or, you could both plunge into the fantasy, the dream, the feelings you’d longed for your whole lives. To belong. To be loved. To be accepted as you were.

You took a steadying breath. You could see he was trying to not react yet, but the fear and worry in his brow was unmistakable. “Ollie, what you did wasn’t ok. And how you handled this wasn’t right. I honestly don’t know how to forgive you.”

His face fell. He didn’t look upset with you.

“But,” his breath caught as you continued. “I’d like to try.” You smiled softly at him. Your heart throbbed as he hesitantly smiled back at you.

“Please, for the love of gods, please fuck me.” You spoke with conviction.

He didn’t waste time. In seconds his huge fingers were replaced with his huge cock. He teased your entrance, coating his dick in your wetness. He leaned forward and kissed you deeply. It wasn’t desperate any longer. It was passionate and hungry and eager.

He slid the tip of his cock into you and you groaned at the stretch. “Fuck you’re tight.” He practically breathed into your ear.

“You’re so big.” You whined out.

“I know you can take me, baby.” He peppered your face with kisses while he pushed further. His breath hitched as he claimed another inch. He was moving painstakingly slow. You knew he was doing it for you, to not hurt you any further, but he was also driving you crazy. Every bit he sunk into you, you were desperate for more. You wanted to be absolutely filled but him, to be taken and owned. You wanted his powerful body ramming into yours.

You squirmed and tried pushing back against his cock. Ollie raised an eyebrow. “Please…” you trailed off.

“Are you ready?” He asked, incredulous. You nodded and chewed on your lip. You gazed up at him above you. His eyes were heavy lidded and his face was flushed. He was so beautiful. He smiled down at you and gently cupped your cheek.

And then he was inside you. He thrust the rest of the way, in one, hard push. You screamed, fear at being heard forgotten. He chuckled and covered your mouth with his hand. It dwarfed your face. He held your jaw while he pulled out and sunk back in.

He set a brutal pace, pounding into you. The extreme stretch started feeling more comfortable and your screams turned to moans behind his hand. Ollie pressed his fingers against your lips and you opened your mouth. Two thick fingers played with your tongue. He worked them deep to the back of your throat. He held them there, slightly gagging you on them. He smirked.

“Say it again.” His tone teasing but his eyes serious.

“Say wha-at” you sputtered out between thrusts and his fingers. His smirk twisted the other way and he frowned slightly. His pace slowed and after a couple more thrusts, he stopped moving. He pulled his fingers from your mouth. “Why…” you panted.

“Ask me to fuck you.” His eyes lit up at the prospect.

“You just were, why did you stop?” You complained and ground your hips into his. He snapped his hands tight to your waist and held you in place. “Ollie…” you whined. You gave him the best doe eyes you could.

“I told you what I want.” His voice was stern but you could read his amusement. He liked seeing you desperate for him.

“Why do you keep making me say embarrassing things?!” You demanded. You tried moving on his still deep cock once more and his grip tightened to a painful extent. You’d have bruises for sure.

“Keep saying them.” He leaned forward to suck on your neck. You gasped as he worked a dark hickey into your skin. You whined without words, desperately trying to instigate his movement again. He held you tight, moving down your neck to your chest, leaving a line of deepening bruises in his wake.

You realised he wasn’t going to let you out of saying it before you finally actually started talking. You tried putting it off as long as possible but he wasn’t wrong when he said he knew how to make you feel good. You were getting past desperate and moving to unashamed and wanton.

Finally, “Please Ollie, please fuck me.” He grinned against your skin. You didn’t stop. A string of only semi coherent pleas spilled from your lips. “I want to feel you cum in me, I want to feel you wreck me.” Some part of you still held onto that embarrassment, but mostly you didn’t care anymore. And Ollie loved it. The most beautiful sounds in the worlds were of you begging for him.

He snapped his hips back into motion and your pleas shifted to half moaned words and expletives. You had been brought close and denied, your pleasure slowly building but never releasing, and whether he meant to or not, he had you at the brink in moments.

Your orgasm ripped through you with almost no warning. You cried out his name and gripped his back, nails digging in like claws. Your passion threw him over the edge as well and he trapped your lips in a rough kiss as you felt his hot cum flood your insides. You felt more full than you even thought possible.

You rode out your orgasms locked tightly together, his hips stuttering as the last few ropes filled your already full cunt. Everything that had happened, the emotions, the hormones, wiped your mind right out, and before he had even pulled out, you were dozing in Ollie's arms underneath him.

**********

You woke, apparently hours later, since no light came through the windows. The room was dim, but the door was open and light spilled through from somewhere else. You were wrapped in Ollies massive bed, several blankets layered on and around you, pillows framing your body. It was like a cozy nest and you snuggled in deeper.

The smell of food wafted in from the rest of the home and you thought you heard low humming. You couldn’t help grinning to yourself. You had a hot, huge half orc making you food after railing you? Yeah, you could get used to that.

You heard soft steps coming towards the room and you squeezed your eyes shut, hoping to stay in this moment for a little bit longer. You heard Ollie pause at the door. He stood there for a few moments, not saying anything. Did he know you were awake?

You opened one eye just the barest amount, just so you could see. You hoped it wasn’t obvious. You told yourself it was dark in the room. You could see Ollie’s form, arms crossed over his broad chest. He leaned against the doorframe, face split with a wide smile. You still couldn’t tell if he knew you were awake.

He stood like that for longer than you’d expected. Long enough that your pretend sleeping became real. You drifted in and out, hovering right between awake and asleep.

You surfaced as you felt Ollie’s lips gently press into your forehead. You nuzzled against his face, and his breath caught. Ollie’s fingers danced along your jaw as you slipped back under.

261 notes · View notes