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omgeto · 7 months

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☆ GHOSTING — GETO SUGURU X READER

summary: after being made aware of your long term ex boyfriends plans to 'fix' the world, you knew that you had to try and stop him. but seeing him for the first time in a decade; all the love, the hate, the heartbreak comes right back to you both and you realise you care about him a lot more than you thought.

wc: 4.7k (of pure goodness....)

cw: afab!reader, mdni, angst to fluff (kinda) cult leader ex boyfriend!geto, kinda sorta canon (its the day that geto yk...) he eats you out like its his last meal, half hate fucking, full making love, and a whole lot of geto being culty and cunty. this one has a plot people!!

authors note: guys yk I love a good exes to lovers fic so the argument in this one hits different and the whole idea of you and suguru breaking up just before he runs off to run his cult really gets to me, so I hope you enjoy this one.

geto suguru hasn’t seen you in years, in almost a decade, and is still reeling harshly from how you left him when he needed you. but somehow he finds himself rushing to meet you when he gets the four word text from your number—which is still saved in his phone under ‘my girl’— saying, ‘we need to talk.’

he knows exactly what you want to speak about, he could easily put together why today of all days you’d want to see —after vanishing him for just over a decade. he figured gojo probably gave word to you, as from when you’ve been young and growing up together, you’ve all known that if gojo couldn’t get through to him, you could.

he opens the door to your apartment, knowing that you wouldn’t have locked it—you always had a habit of leaving it open for him. and there you are, standing in the dimly lit room, waiting for his arrival. the years have etched subtle changes onto your face and in your demeanour, but the essence of who you are remains unchanged. time may have separated you, but in this moment, it feels as though it has never passed.

“you can't do this,” is the first thing you say, your voice steady despite the unexpected surge of emotions upon seeing him again. you didn't think seeing him after all this time would affect you, but it did. his hair is longer, his frame more imposing, but that unmistakable smirk remains, a haunting reminder of the man you once knew.

“wow right to the chase,” he chuckles bitterly, his presence taking up the room as he enters the room further, “i forgot you never really had a thing for beating around the bush.”

you meet his bitter chuckle with a steady gaze, your resolve unwavering. the years of separation have done nothing to diminish the intensity of your connection, the push and pull between you two.

"it's not the time for games, suguru," you reply, your tone serious. "you know why i called you here."

he sighs, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly. the weight of his plans, the burden he carries, is evident in the lines etched on his face. "i figured you'd call sooner or later."

the room seems to shrink as the gravity of the situation hangs between you. the man you once knew, the one who could make your heart race with a smile, now stands before you, shrouded in darkness.

"i won't let you go through with this," you say firmly, your eyes never leaving his. "there's another way, suguru. there has to be."

for a moment, his façade cracks, and you catch a glimpse of the person he used to be, the one who believed in a better world. but then the hardness returns to his eyes, and he steps closer, his presence overwhelming.

"you always were too idealistic," he mutters, almost to himself. "but i can't turn back now. the world needs this change."

"what happened to you?" you snap out, your words laced with a bitter edge that hangs heavily in the air. it's a question that carries the weight of your years of frustration, anger, and confusion. but you knew what happened to him; everyone knew.

his reaction is immediate, and the room seems to tremble with his anger. his gaze narrows, and the atmosphere becomes charged with tension. "you don't get to ask that," he spits out, his voice dripping with bitterness. "you left, remember? you abandoned me when i needed you the most."

“it wasn’t like that,” you argue, leaning forward, your body tense. “by the time i left you were already gone, being physically present in a relationship doesn’t mean anything if your mind is fucking checked out all the time. at that point i was just dating a shell of you.”

“is that how you justify it?" he retorts, his anger unabated. "you think leaving was the solution?”

you clench your fists, your own anger rising to meet his. "i did what i had to do to protect myself, suguru. you were spiralling, consumed by your own darkness. I couldn't save you"

his eyes blaze with a mixture of fury and hurt. "you think i needed saving?

“you still need saving,” you scoff gesturing to him standing right in front of you, “just because you couldn’t save—”

“don’t even go there,” he interrupts, his hand raising to stop you. he knew you were talking about riko, “i’ve made peace with that.”

“oh have you?” you accuse, “since it seems to me, you’ve been on a killing spree, ever since.”

“other people died y’know,” he hisses out, “remember haibara? he was your fucking friend, but you weren’t even there.”

“this isn’t about me,” you say disregarding his comment, regret seeping through you, “you think i haven’t kept tabs on you since i’ve been away. who have you become?”

he glares at you, his anger evident. "i've become what the world needs," he snaps, his voice heavy. "someone willing to do what it takes to change things."

"and is killing a village full of people the way to do that?" you challenge, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and sorrow. "killing your..." You pause, overwhelmed by the thoughts and images of what he's done. "was killing your parents worth it?"

his expression hardens, and for a moment, you see a glimmer of regret in his eyes, but it's quickly masked by his resolve. "i had to make sacrifices," he says coldly. "it's a small price to pay for a greater cause."

“you can’t truly think that,” you say, taking a step closer to him, your fists still clenched at your sides. “how did it feel killing them then? to take away the lives of your own parents who were innocent?” you probe, you knew that there was some part of him that must feel bad.”

“you’re about… ten years too late to be trying to have this conversation with me,” he shrugs, the turmoil that geto felt when he first set out on his mission has ceased. the guilt he felt for killing his parents, even the grief he had for something that he caused, wasn’t a factor for him anymore.

your frustration boils over as you press him further. "so, you've become heartless, then?" you challenge. the room seems to tighten around you as you await his response. "a cold-blooded killer who's convinced himself that the ends justify the means?"

geto's gaze narrows, his patience dwindling. "it's not about being heartless. it's about doing what's necessary to achieve our goals."

"your goals," you emphasise, "not mine. and not the goals of the innocent people you've hurt along the way."

he sighs, exasperation creeping into his voice. "you always had a way of making everything so complicated, questioning every choice. you left because you couldn't handle the real world."

you shake your head, unwilling to accept his justifications. "no, i left because i couldn't stand by and watch you become a monster."

“so i’m just a monster, yeah?” he retorts, stepping towards you, his anger evident across his face, you could see your words triggered him, and as he gets closer you could feel your facade faltering.

your heart races as he approaches, and you raise a hand instinctively, palm out, to signal him to stop. "don't come any closer," you warn, your voice trembling with a mixture of fear and anger. there was no rational reason to be scared of him, you’ve known him for years, and despite everything that he’s done —what he’s become— there was still a part of you that believed that he wouldn’t hurt you.

but geto ignores your plea, his determination unwavering. he grabs your hand firmly, his grip surprisingly gentle despite the intensity of the moment. his dark eyes bore into yours, and he speaks in a low, taunting tone, "why? are you scared that with me being this close, you're going to realise that you loved a monster? that you're still in love with him?"

you grit your teeth, refusing to let him get under your skin. "suguru, you don't get to manipulate me with your twisted version of love," you retort, your voice laced with defiance. "i won't let you use my feelings against me.

his words hit you like a punch to the gut, and you're torn between the conflicting emotions swirling inside you. the memories of the love you once shared, the pain of his transformation into something unrecognisable, and the lingering attraction between you all crash together in this charged moment.

you try to pull your hand away, to regain control of the situation, but geto's grip tightens, preventing your escape. his face inches closer to yours, and despite your better judgement, your breath hitches. “manipulation, huh?” geto muses, his mouth so close to yours that you feel his breath faintly brush across your lips. you look up at him through your lowered eyelashes, and in that fleeting pause, so small that it’s almost imperceptible, you find yourself considering the gravity of your actions, if only for a moment.

the feeling of doubt is short lived, as you press your lips against geto’s, his mouth immediately moulding into yours. the kiss is searing, as you push your bodies against each other, he releases your hand from his grip, his hands move to cradle your head, holding it in place as he deepens the kiss, bruising your lips with his.

everything about geto is familiar, the taste of him, the warmth of his mouth, the way he consumes you. his tongue explores yours, wrestling for control as your arms scratch at him trying to tug off his robe. you wanted him to feel you, all of you—your touch, your lips, your hurt, your anger, the love that you still have that you thought was small. but after seeing him, kissing him, you realise is still an overwhelmingly large part of you.

you pull apart to catch your breath, staring hard at each other, but there’s barely a moment wasted before your back on eachother. kissing each other feverishly, as you rip off each other's clothes, he pushes you hard, your back slamming against the nearest piece of furniture as his mouth latches onto your neck. his kisses cascade down your body, stopping at your breasts as he unhooks your bra, tossing it aside.

“i missed these,” he murmurs, as his lips descend onto your tits, his face nuzzling at your chest as he sucks and pulls at your nipples with his teeth. “and i missed this,” he continues to mumble, his hands cupping your clothed pussy, his finger lightly caressing your slit.

you arch forward into his touch, wanting to feel him more and chuckles saying, “even after all these years, you still respond to my touch just the same.” his fingers plunge into your panties, brushing against your clit and he smirks as your lips part a stifled moan escaping your lips—proving his point.

“s-shut up,” you hiss out, as you slowly start to gyrate against his fingers. although it was obvious from the way you were already soaking your underwear, you didn’t want to admit how good he is actually making you feel—you just couldn’t give him the satisfaction. geto raises his eyebrows at you in amusement, as he watches you bite your lip trying to contain your moans, as his fingers inch into your inviting pussy.

geto’s body moves down yours as he removes his lips from your tits, continues to press kisses down your stomach, as he drops down to his knees —his eyes level with your cunt. he presses a kiss to your covered pussy, before sliding off your panties. his mouth is just about to latch onto you but he pauses looking up at you, his gaze unwavering, “you want this right?” you nod slowly, your anticipation brewing as your eyes lock onto his, “use your words.”

you release an exasperated huff, but he remains steadfast, his raised eyebrow a silent declaration that he won't act until you tell him what he wants to hear. the room seems to pulse with tension, the growing desire between you mounting with each heartbeat.

your hands slide it’s way into his hair, pushing your fingers through his scalp, as you grin, you voice is low and sultry as you say, “i want it.” his mouth envelopes your pussy and you push his head into you deeper, forcing your nose into your arousal. he inhales you, taking in your scent as he presses his face in your cunt.

“such a pretty pussy,” he mutters lowly, you could feel the vibrations spread through your pussy. his tongue strokes down your slit, before pushing into you, he twists and slurps at you trying to suck out all of your juices.

geto nibbles at your clit, tugging at it with his teeth before bringing his fingers back to cunt. shoving two fingers in roughly. you pull his hair harshly, the feeling of his mouth sucking on your clit leaving your mind blank. “ah f-fuck,” you cry out, as geto’s strokes grow more intense.

“c’mon let me hear you more,” geto prompts, pulling away slightly from your pussy, his lips plump and coated from your wetness. he grabs one of your legs and hikes it over his shoulder, the angle allowing him to force his fingers into you further, curling them up in your pussy as he goes back to shoving his face in your sobbing cunt.

you grind your pussy in his face, working with him in getting you off. both of your movements were frantic, geto is eating your pussy with such eagerness, hungrily trying to drink all of your cum. “i’m close s-sugu i’m—” you choke out, feeling yourself slipping down the wall you pressed against, but geto holds you upright, his large hand keeping your thigh hooked over his shoulder and roughly pushing you up against the wall.

geto grins against your cunt, your moans and cries is a sound he didn’t realise how much he missed until he heard them now. you laboured breathing, stammered sentences told him that you were reading cum, but he just had to push you further. so he adds one more finger, sending it straight to your spot, twisting and pushing it in your pussy so hard that tears brim your eyes. he was so relentless, you always loved that about him, how he knows your body in and out, he knew exactly where to touch, and just how far he should push to have you becoming a mess for him.

you couldn’t take him anymore, so you cum, hard. your pussy releasing ropes and ropes of cum, all over geto’s fingers and his face, and he laps at it, munching all your cum with excitement. “i know you can give me more than that,” he muses, pressing his thumb down on your clit, rubbing at it aggressively as you cum. your eyes roll back, as he repeatedly flicks at your cum, and before you know it, you're squirting all over his face.

geto’s eyes widen, and he doesn’t stop playing with your pussy, until you bow your head in submission, worn out from all the cum you’ve released over him. your hands slide out of his hair, as you try and catch your breath and geto peppers your cunt and your thighs with kisses finally letting your thigh come off his shoulders. “damn your pussy’s still as sweet as ever.”

“stop with the talking,” you mumble, as you pull him up to his feet, your lips forcing their way back onto him. your hands frantically explore each other's bodies as you drag him to your bedroom, pushing him on your bed. “i can’t fucking stand you,” you mutter to yourself, your denial evident, as you straddle him, pulling his dick out of his boxers.

you pause briefly at the sight, his thick, long dick staring at you. you hear geto chuckle at your reaction, your eyes meet his with a challenging look exchanged between you, he raises his eyebrow at you, a silent dare on whether you’ll actually be able to get the control that you’re aiming to have.

you hover over his dick, your pussy still dripping, geto bites his lip in anticipation as you tease him, slowly edging yourself down onto him. your pussy greedily, takes in his dick as you force yourself down on him as immediately fills you, stretching out your cunt with one push. you start to ride him, hard and fast, rocking your body forward as you bounce up and down on him, your hand pressing down on his stomach to keep you steady.

geto sits up, stifling a moan as he feels your cunt clench around his dick with everyone of your movements. he tries to thrust up into you, but he just can’t match the relentless rhythm you had, “f-fuck,” he exhales, a moan escaping his mouth, and you smirk —you have him just where you wanted him.

“you alright there suguru?” you mock, the grin spread across your face unmissable as you grind yourself down against him, tightening your pussy around his pole as you slid up and down. the bite on his lip hardens as he pulls it further between his teeth to suppress another moan.

but geto doesn’t submit for long, his hand slaps you across your tits and his fingers pinch your nipples, twisting and tugging them, causing you to arch your back as you wail. “d’you r-really think you run shit here?” he groans, flicking at your nipples with every word, “you’ll never be in control, not with me,” he taunts.

“oh really?” you retort, as you still continue to move your ass, meeting his hips. you can feel him start to pick up his pace, trying to match yours, his hips slightly thrusting upwards, his dick pushing into you deeper.

“yeah,” he says confidently through gritted teeth, one of his hands pulling away from your nipples and onto your ass, harshly grabbing one of your cheeks to steady himself as he drills into you further, “because you’re still my girl.”

you still at his words, you knew he didn’t mean it but you couldn’t help but react to the name that he always used to refer to you as. geto could see your eyes become vacant, as you think back to the memories when you were truly his girl. you used to revel in that —the feeling of being his. he takes advantage of your pause, your rhythm halted as he takes over, now setting the pace as he charges his dick into you, stuffing you further.

“suguru f-fuck you’re so—” you sob out, as he breaks down your wall, his strokes hitting your spot perfectly. your body buckles, crumbling at the force that geto was using as he repeatedly thrusts into you, his hand pushing you in further so his dick can get an even better angle in you.

“i’m so what?” he retorts, knowing you wouldn’t be able to string an answer together from the way he is fucking you dumb. geto couldn’t deny that he is getting some joy out seeing you all drunk on his dick, reduced to nothing but moans and incoherent sentences, he liked being the one to break you down. “am i still a monster, someone you can’t stand being around?”

you sloppily nod your head, trying to keep some resolve, but your efforts are pointless since all the insults and accusations you were spouting earlier are now futile, you lost your care in getting him to do the right thing, all you want now is for him to stay like this — inside of you.

“s-shit i can’t take it a-anymore im gonna cu—” you force out, clenching yourself around little his dick hard as you feel your orgasm building up. but geto’s movements stop for a second as he pulls his dick out of you, flipping you over, your back landing hard on your bed. he leans over you, his focus fixed on you, but at this point, his eyes don’t hold the same heartache, and hurt that they did when he first stepped into your house. the geto that is looking at you now, is the one who’d always look at you everyday, ten years ago —with love and longing.

he strokes his dick down your aching pussy, teasing you with it, but just before he puts it in, his hand caresses your face cupping your chin as he says, “when i said you were still my girl, i meant it y’know?” and your lips part in surprise at his admission. “although it hurt me, when you left me, you just never stopped being my girl.”

“suguru i-i don’t know what to say,” you stammer, and you didn’t realise until he swipes under your eye, that you were crying. there was so much more to your relationship with geto than just some highschool romance, you loved another, and no one could tell you otherwise.

“tell me that you are,” he prompts, now pressing kisses to your tear stained face, his lips moving down to yours, “tell me that you are still my girl,” he finishes in between kisses. his hopeful eyes still remain on yours, and you could feel him slowly inching his dick into you.

you wrap your legs around his back, your arms hooking around his neck as you pull his head next to yours, your mouth near his ear as you whisper, “i am still yours.” he pushes his dick back into you, his strokes deep and slow. it was different from before, there was no competition or hate between you as you fucked, you didn’t have a point to prove other than the fact that you still loved each other.

geto’s moans are loud, he has nothing to hold back as he growls lowly in your ear. the way he holds you, and takes his time kisses you and fucking you as if he was accounting for this potentially being his last ever time doing so. “i’ll never get enough of this.”

“then don’t go,” you whine, and your words hold a deeper meaning that you both knew but won’t acknowledge knowing it is pointless to discuss any further. you pull him into you deeper, your thighs clenching around him as your hold tightens.

the feeling of you pulling him in, has him clenching his eyes as your pussy takes him in, his mouth takes yours in a powerful kiss, before he mumbles “you gonna let me cum in you, leave you with every last bit of me.” you don’t even respond, just deepening the kiss, your head shaking in agreement.

you both cum together, geto spraying your walls as he sinks his face into the crook of your neck, sinking his teeth into your exposed flesh as he continues to shoot ropes of cum inside of you. you claw at his back as you feel all of him enter you, your cum mixing with his as you cry out in full pleasure.

his forehead rests against yours, as the last bits of his cum enter you and neither of you say anything, all that can be heard is just heavy breaths coming from the both of you. you didn’t know what was to happen now, there was still so much left unsaid, unresolved and things have changed now that geto is literally stuffed inside of you.

geto is about to pull out of you finally, but you stop him muttering a faint, “stay,” and he does. he knows he had somewhere to be, things to do that are bigger than the both of you, but he just couldn’t leave when you ask him to stay. he manoeuvres your body so that you now lay atop him, comfortably cockwarming him as he thumb brushes gentle strokes down your arm.

“y’know i’ve got these two girls, who i think would love you,” he muses.

“what? did you manage to become a father whilst i was away?” you tease.

“something like that, yeah,” he mumbles, a small smile forming on his face as thoughts of nanako and mimiko flash through his mind — they’re a bittersweet reminder of the new life he’s built without you, one that you wouldn’t be able to fit in. it wasn’t that long ago that you’d have thoughts about geto fathering your own kids, dreams of somewhat of a domestic life that you’d now never get to have with him.

“well maybe i can meet them,” you say non-committedly.

“yeah maybe…” his voice falters, as you both know that it would never happen.

“do you enjoy it then?” you ask, “this ‘new’ life of yours.” you could tell just by the brief mention of nanako and mimiko and the way he carries himself that he does enjoy his life, but you were hoping that he’d still answer no.

geto hesitates for a moment, his gaze drifting to the ceiling as he contemplates your question, “i…” he begins, his gaze returning to yours, “i won’t lie. it’s different, and there’s moments i find true solace in it, this has been my life for a long time now, so it’s just something i’ve really gotten used to.”

“and you’re happy to go back to it, after this?” your question is loaded, and you feel dumb for even asking but when you did call him over to get him to not go through with his plans, of course your motivations have slightly changed, but your goal is still the same.

“i don’t think you should ask me to make a choice, knowing that im not going to choose you,” he grits out, he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings, but

“you’re not gonna win you know, satoru wouldn’t let it happen,” you couldn’t help yourself, the rejection he just gave you stung, and you wanted him to feel what you felt.

but geto doesn’t bite, he knows you’re hurting—that he’s the cause of it, so he lets you hurt, his hold tightening comfortably as you sulk in his arms. geto places a kiss on your temple, ignoring your comment as he concludes, “let’s just not, okay?”

geto stays with you until your breathing settles into a steady rhythm, and you don’t notice him slipping out of you. he cleans you up and tucks you into your bedsheets, giving you one final stare as if he’s trying to keep a mental image of how you look when he’s last seen you. his lips meet yours in a final, chaste kiss and he mutters a promise that he didn’t think you’d hear, but you do, stirring awake as his lips leave yours, “i’ll see you again… eventually.”

you wake up to an empty room, the warmth of geto's presence replaced by a stark emptiness. the realisation hits you like a wave of cold water – he's gone, leaving nothing behind but soiled sheets and a hollow ache in your chest. there's no note, no message, no trace of his ever being there, except for the lingering scent of him that clings to the air. you know that someone will eventually inform you of the outcome of the night, but deep down, you already suspect that his last promise to you will end up being broken.

AN: first like proper proper real juicy fic that ive written in a long time imo and its just like this took me so long since im soooo sensitive about my geto fics and im just like overly critical about my angsty and fluff and plot fics and my smut and JUST EVERYTHING but I managed to get it all done and I think some parts of this really hit hard. the ending is ofc bittersweet since if we go by canon, he goes and yuta beats his fuckinggg ass and he dies wtf but... the true ending is really up to your imagination. (not really) like dont even think about the ending just focus on the fact that they NEVER TELL EACHOTHER THAT THEY LOVE EACH OTHER BECAUSE UR SO IN LOVE THAT YOU ADMITTING THAT UR STILL 'HIS GIRL' IS ALL THE CONFIRMATION HE NEEDS. my finished an are sooo long why because I FUCKING CAN SO I HOPE YOU ENJOY, PLEASE LMK UR THOUGHTS AND SLAY ALL DAY also thank you @kazushawty and @biscuitsngravie for reading and supporting me 🥹🥹

#stampedwithanE★#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto x reader #geto smut #jjk angst #geto angst #jjk fic #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru smut #geto suguru #jujustsu kaisen x reader #geto x you #geto suguru x you #jujutsu kaisen angst

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luveline · 7 days

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Hiii!! Could I request a bombshell reader x Spencer where someone (a local police maybe) says something rude to her about her appearance or something and normally it doesn’t really get to her, but something snaps and she kinda shuts down/is rude to Spencer until he coaxes it out of her? Sorry it’s long I had an idea and ran w it loollll

ty for requesting angel! confident fem!reader, 1k

Spencer shouldn’t expect his colleague to hold his hand, especially one so confident. What sense would that make, a woman as established as you are, who smiles without a lick of worry nor smugness, wanting to hold his hand?

But you do it all the time, is the thing. In the car on the way to crime scenes, in the hallways of the office, under the round table. It started as a tethering for his distractedness, when one day he’d wanted to talk but hadn’t had the presence of mind to walk at the same time, so you’d taken his hand and led him to the office. You’ve been taking it at your discretion ever since.

Spencer knows something is wrong —you haven’t tried to hold his hand all day. And even if you aren’t interested in him romantically, Spencer has come to crave the touch. He’ll accept platonic hand holding. Anything, really.

“You’re staring very deeply, Dr. Reid,” you mutter, shades from your usual lightness.

“I’m thinking.”

“Aren’t you always?”

“About you.”

“Well,” you smile fleetingly. “You should always be thinking about me.”

“You’re truly humble.”

His joke doesn’t land, it crashes and burns; your smile fades completely into a short, sharp line. Your gaze moves back into the restaurant, waiting for the team's food order in silence once again.

Spencer’s pinky finger twitches across the gap.

“Is everything okay?” he asks.

“Fine.”

You stay quiet, Spencer worries. He takes the bags before you can when they bring your food to the collection desk, two lumps of heat he holds to his thighs as you begin the walk back to the hotel. Tonight, the team will pick at their food together and rehash the same arguments they’ve been making all day, filling in each other's gaps, and tomorrow the work will start again. He can’t have you this unhappy again tomorrow.

“You’re amazing,” he says, watching you turn to him from the corner of his eye, “you know you are, we all do, everyone who meets you. I know you don’t need me to tell you that, or to feel better, but… I’m here for you. If you want to talk. It’s been a hard couple of days, and talking about traumatic events as they happen and directly afterward make them easier to recover from.”

“I’m not traumatised.”

“Upsetting,” he corrects. “Having a shoulder to cry on is good for you, and I can be that shoulder. You know, if you need me to be.”

He can’t know this in the moment, though maybe one day you’ll tell him, further down the line when the hand holding is better defined, but you look at him and you love him. To know Spencer is to love him. Or at least that’s how you’ve always felt. You’d love to cry on his shoulder about what transpired that morning if it weren’t embarrassing to think about, you’re upset over a throwaway comment made by nobody important.

Spencer offers his company earnestly. He stammers. It’s amazingly sincere, as he usually is. He won’t mind if it’s embarrassing, he’ll just listen.

You clear your throat. “I know I’m not to everyone’s taste. I know that the way I… present myself isn’t what most men like. People love confidence, but not when it’s bossy, not when it’s– when it’s vain. And I am vain. I think about my appearance a lot, I think I’m beautiful most of the time, I try so hard to have that be true.” You eye him thoughtfully. “Do you realise that?”

He shakes his head gently, one ear toward one shoulder and then the other, as though balancing. “Sort of. I know you put effort into your appearance, but I also assume a lot of it to be natural.”

“Right, well. It’s not natural. Not really. My natural beauty wouldn’t be all the beautiful to most people. And I’ve accepted that, I know what I like about myself, and–” You’re losing the thread of your point, an upset creeping into your melodic tone and turning it ragged. “When people tell me they don’t like how I look now, I guess it hurts because I know they wouldn’t like me before, either, and I feel defeated because I know I can’t win.”

“Who said they don’t like how you look?” Spencer asks, confused, on his way to annoyed.

“Officer Friendly.” You look to your shoes, watching the steps you take. “Guess he wasn’t as nice as we thought.”

“What did he say to you?”

You shrug. “Same story. He doesn’t like girls who wear makeup. Doesn’t like uppity women.”

“Did he call you that?”

“What are you gonna do if he did?” you ask without malice.

“Morgan’s teaching me self defence for a reason.” You smile at his light joke, though it doesn’t last. He transfers the takeout bags into one hand, the other held out to you, his fingers sliding down your arm to your wrist. “You know you’re beautiful, with or without makeup. And you’re not uppity, you’re out of his league. There’s a difference.”

“You’re flirting with me.”

“No.” He wishes he had the wherewithal sometimes, but this isn’t flirting. “I’m being honest with you. Men like that don’t like you because they know they’ll never, ever have you, or anyone like you. There isn’t anyone like you,” he adds, sliding his hand into yours.

He squeezes all your fingers together twice in quick succession.

“Don’t let a jealous chauvinist halfwit make you think you’re not good enough,” he says.

You curl your fingers around his before he can take his hand back. Slowly, you squeeze his hand. Then, smiling, you let him go.

“I’ve never heard you say something mean like that,” you say. “Halfwit. That’s crass.”

“I was going to say he’s an asshole, if that’s better.”

Your laugh echoes off of the sidewalk. “That’s perfect. Say something meaner.”

The insult he uses next doesn’t bear repeating.

#spencer and bombshell reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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earthtooz · 1 year

Text

x : BETWEEN LOVE AND LIES :*+ﾟ

in which: you thought nagi was dating you for media reputation... so why does this relationship feel suspiciously real?

warnings: 11.9k words, pro-soccer player!nagi x physiotherapist!gn!reader, reader has hair, lots of food, not at all a realistic story but that's okay pls don't come for me, SLOOWWWWBURN, fake-dating au, reader is oblivious :<

a/n: goodness. if this flops i will cry bc i spent way too long this for it to be healthy for me. enjoy !

↳ 5K EVENT MASTERLIST ༉‧₊

nagi approaches you the day after his name goes viral.

you weren’t doing anything spectacular, merely putting away all the kits and equipment you’d used for the day when the white-haired soccer player approaches you, his hands in his pockets, strolling over to you as he would on any occasion.

your heart races- as it does whenever he’s around, regardless of said occasion, but what tumbles out of his mouth next was worthy of ceasing your heart rate all together.

“wanna date?”

you’re speechless. malfunctioning as you register what he’s saying. the sheer casualness of it all is alarming and you have to snap yourself back into your physical environment before your mind loses to a universe of questions and doubts.

out of all people who have asked you to date, nagi was definitely the most unique. was he okay in the head? did he come for a check up? did he get one of rin’s kicks to the head? or was he just straight up delusional?

“uhh, why?” you ask, cursing yourself a little for how disgusted you sounded.

fortunately for you, your ungracious tone didn’t phase him, not one bit. “isn’t that what two people do when they like each other?”

yeah, romantically. you don’t even think nagi likes you beyond simply platonic, whereas you have to try and shove your feelings for him down your throat every morning before walking in to the training grounds for blue lock’s official team.

you find yourself agreeing regardless, still a little overwhelmed by everything that was going on.

the soccer player then has the audacity to give you two thumbs up in approval, a dumb smile plastering on that expression of his. this confuses you even more.

“okay cool, so what should we do now that we’re a couple?” he asks.

you glance away, unable to look him in the eye for too long without getting flustered. the various weights and foam rollers still scattered on the floor catches your attention, reminding you of your previous task before nagi came to stir up a storm. “well, i have to put these away amongst various things. you can sit on the couch if you want to pass time?”

“do you need any help?” he questions, already bobbing down to be eye-level with you, ignoring the second half of your statement.

“no it’s fine, thank you though.”

“are you sure?”

“yeah! i don’t want to bother you.”

“well if you do this all by yourself, it’ll take longer, and you take longer, it means i have to wait longer to spend time with you.”

when you turn around to say something, the words die on your throat when you realise just how close he’d come to you during the time you had your back towards him. a flash of hurt crosses his typically emotionless eyes when you instinctively recoil from him, his innocent stare dimishing just a little.

“you know how much i hate waiting. it’s such a pain, so let me help out and you’ll get done faster, right?” his hands are already reaching for some of the foam rollers before you can stop him. with an affectionate sigh, you take it from him, placing it back in its original spot.

“fine,” you say with a smile. “if you insist then would you mind putting the ice packs in the fridge? isagi’s ankle was messing up earlier and chigiri came in for his knee again.”

the white-haired hums before obeying, his footsteps that shuffled along the floor telling you know that he is carrying out his duties that you’ve assigned for him. the way his tracksuit makes a noise every time he walks is distracting, but you can’t help but think how much nagi reminds you of a penguin. the adorableness of it all might just kill you.

if only the internet and ‘#nagi seishiro’ tags knew just how much of a teddy bear that 6’3, legendary prodigy, nagi seishiro was, and how you had to massage him almost everyday after training sessions otherwise he’d come to practise the next day with the resolve of a five year old.

being a junior physiotherapist for the blue lock team, you only took care of a few blue lock athletes as your clients since the team was divided between you and a senior physio. nagi wasn’t one of your assigned athletes, however when you first came to the job, he would come during almost closing times (when you had no one booked) and ask for a massage, even if he had his own physiotherapist to request that of. however, nagi seemed to always have some sore muscle because his demands for a massage became a daily recurrence.

you just hope whatever is wrong with him gets sorted out soon.

sure athletes are meant to work hard and use their bodies in the field but physio massages were to assist with injuries by minimising the risk of them, fixing the alignment, or help extend any limited range of movement.

whatever. now’s not the time to think too hard about it because you’re about to go on a date with nagi seishiro.

after cleaning up your space so you could prepare to take care of more athletes tomorrow, nagi is sauntering over to you once more. this time, he drapes himself all over you, causing you to stumble a little from how heavy he is. you pray to whoever’s listening that he can’t feel or hear the way your heart races in your chest, threatening to climb up your throat and jump into his hands.

“tired, nagi?” you question, words muffled against his shoulder as you bring your hands to soothingly pat his back.

“yeah,” whines the white-haired. the smile that creeps onto your face is one full of adoration for the man slung over you. “let me take you out.”

“where to?”

“a night market? it’ll be fun.”

“sure.”

at your confirmation, he separates from you with an excited glimmer in his eyes,

after grabbing your bags and setting out, you’re violently flooded by dozens of paparazzi and interviewers who are click their cameras in hopes of catching blue lock’s soccer player who has taken the world by storm. it’s a little overwhelming, but when nagi covers you from the reporters with his arm which had his tracksuit jacket draped over it, you’re thankful for his thoughtfulness, especially when you’re relying on his grip around your waist to pull you in the right direction.

the crowd is shouting a flurry of things, nothing that you can make out amongst the mess of your mind, your heart, and your ears.

it’s not until you decipher someone shouting something about dating rumours with a japanese pop singer, that you piece together his intentions; a loud wakeup call to the reality of your ‘situation’ with nagi.

the possibility that nagi was using this ‘relationship’ for media coverage and acknowledgement was very likely, especially with his recent growth in popularity and social media following- it would be understandable if he wanted to prolong his moment in the spotlight by entering beneficial relationships.

except typically, celebrities would do it with other celebrities.

so what’s the appeal behind using you?

a funny feeling brews in your gut, one that clawed at your chest with a series of disappointment, anxiety, and dismay. it was unbelievable that someone as hot, both literally and figuratively, as nagi would be interested in you; a junior physiotherapist fresh out of university, but you had hoped. his abruptness today and the whole ‘we should date’ ordeal was to dispel the media from his back, not bred from any genuine feelings.

if this was the only chance you got to stand beside nagi and have him hold you like this, so protectively against him, then you were going to take it until fate deemed it over and pulled you away from him itself.

you were young and simply put, nagi could provide the companionship you were looking for.

fortunately, the press left him alone at the parking lot where security guards were standing, two in the booth and one purchased near the gate. you give them a shy greeting and they return it with a bow.

“sorry about that,” nagi mutters, not looking at you even when you turn your head to stare up at him. “i wasn’t expecting paparazzi to be right outside, they’re such a pain.”

“it’s okay, if anything i owe you a thank you for covering me from them,” you huff, stuffing your hands into your pockets, mind still a little frazzled over the memory of how protective nagi was over you. “stuff like this happens when you’re famous, mr soccer hotshot.”

he rubs his neck, looking to the side as his next words tumble out of his mouth: “does that impress you?”

“why wouldn’t it?”

you try not to think too hard about the blush that manifests on his face, pinning it on the colder weather and frostbite rather than your words.

“so… where’s this night market? i didn’t know tokyo had many night markets.”

“just in shibuya.”

“won’t it be busy?”

“yeah,” he shrugs before adding as an afterthought: “does that bother you?”

“no not at all, i just thought you hated big crowds and busy places.”

“‘s won’t be so bad with you there.”

for someone who prefers to keep quiet majority of the time, nagi sure does have a silver tongue. this is probably the third time in the past half an hour that he’s made your stomach flip, and you can’t help but question his intentions. if he was trying to make you actually fall for him to make your relationship look more legitimate then he’d be disappointed to know that you already had, way before he approached you today.

he agrees to drive the way since one: it was easier and two: you could avoid the paparazzi that way.

upon arrival, you’re glad to see that there aren’t too many people in the crowd. since it was a weekday, students would be participating in extra curriculars and businessmen would be only just finishing work. the majority of the people here were older with a few couples here and there.

“oh, they have lemon tea,” nagi mutters, grabbing your hand before unceremoniously dragging you to the stand. his excitement was endearing, especially when all 6’3 of him approaches the lemon tea stand, needing to bend down in order to be seen by the elderly stand owner. a flash of surprise crosses the maker’s face as he makes eye contact with the white-haired.

“two lemon teas please,” requests the soccer player, using his hands to gesture ‘two’ as he fishes out the appropriate amount of money.

“hey, you’re that soccer player, nagi! you scored an awesome goal the other day. mind if i get a picture?” the owner’s gruff voice requests, a cheery smile making its way onto his face.

“oh. sure.”

you take the picture for them, counting down ‘3, 2, 1’ as nagi gives the camera a peace sign and the owner has a wide, bright smile on his face; so bright that you couldn’t help grinning as well. “i’m putting this on my store front. now you want two lemon teas?”

“coming right up!”

“did you just buy me a lemon tea without asking?” you question, a smile appearing on your features as you glance up at your companion.

he meets your eyes, “yeah, ‘s there something wrong with that?”

“no, not at all. i wouldn’t mind some lemon tea right now. i’ll pay you back.”

“don’t worry about that,” nagi cuts you off before you can even reach for your wallet. “everything’s on me.”

“but-”

“-it’s on me.”

the stand owner is handing over two iced cups of lemon before you can continue bickering and nagi hands one over to you with a wordless expression and you’re compelled to take it, though reluctantly.

“are you two a couple?” the owner asks.

nagi nods, “yeah, we are.”

“ah! no wonder. you two look amazing together, you bagged a real gem,” he says to nagi, pointing at you. you laugh it off, flattered.

“i know i did. thanks for the tea, sir.”

“thank you!” you call out to the owner before being dragged away by nagi again, careful not to spill your drink from how much vigour was in his steps. for his one stride, you had to take two.

after going from store to store and blindly following nagi who led the way with his stomach, you’re eventually brought to a less busy, picnic-like area where there were various benches for you to sit on. it was away from the busyness of the main street, but still had lanterns hung around the premise, combating the darkness of the early sunset during colder months.

you take a seat beside him whilst he sets down the variety of food he bought from the merchants, not trying to think too much about the way nagi presses himself closely against you.

“oh, one of my games had a character drop an hour ago,” he absentmindedly comments, opening his phone for the first time since being with you. you catch a glimpse of his dim phone screen, seeing the notification banner from the game he was referring to.

“that’s cool,” you mutter, unsure of what else to say as you take a bite into the red bean taiyaki.

“yeah, he’s a cracked character. been wanting him forever.”

“are you gonna pull? i wanna see him.”

“really?”

when you give him the nod of affirmation, nagi opens the game whilst you continue eating, gentle anticipation hanging in the air as well as a comfortable silence. it doesn’t take long before he’s purchasing special event tokens, going to the special character screen and pressing the ‘draw x10’ option. you peer over his shoulder, trying to resist the urge to rest your chin on it.

you’re snapped out of your reverie when nagi emits a small gasp. “no way.”

“what?” you ask, watching the way his screen lights up in gold which signalled a successful draw. he looks up at you, eyes wide and mouth partially parted. “did you get him?”

“yeah, on the first go,” he says in wonder, a dazed look in his eyes. “that’s never happened before.”

“no way! you’re so lucky!”

nagi’s face erupts into a small smile, and you’re caught off guard all of a sudden when his hands snake around your waist, pulling you up to sit on his lap. the new proximity and abruptness of it all causes your mind to stop for a second, shutting off as nagi peers up at you with stars in his eyes. you want to hide, but his grip around you is too tight, pulling you in to him.

this feels criminal.

“nah, i just think you’re my lucky charm.”

a quiet squeak of ‘is that so?’ is all you can reply with before looking away, trying to distract your rampant thoughts, hoping that the cool breeze will calm the heat creeping up to your face. “so,” you begin, trying to recover yourself from embarrassment. “can i see your characters? all of them?”

“all of them?” nagi repeats and you miss the small look of bliss on his expression.

“yeah.”

“i showed them to you the other week.”

“okay, well show me this new character then.”

“as you wish.”

he talks you through the characters and their tutorials, showing you their special combos and ultimate moves, all whilst you have to feed him the variety of foods he bought whilst dragging you around like a dog and its owner. as he munches on the takoyaki, kebabs, and sweet potato, you realise just how bottomless nagi’s stomach was and the way he hums in satisfaction after each bite was very adorable.

the night fades into a nice memory of laughter, emptied food boxes, and easy conversation. somehow nagi has manoeuvred himself so that his head was now in your lap, snowy hair spread so invitingly as you resist the urge to run your hands through it, wanting to respect any boundaries of his.

every so often you have to remind yourself that this wasn’t real.

reality hits you once more the following morning when you check social media just to see ‘#nagi seishiro’ trending all over again, all talking about the paparazzi photos that were taken yesterday. taking a glimpse for yourself, you hate the way your gut sinks, especially as articles with the title ‘nagi seishiro with a new lover?’ shine in your face.

it only solidifies your speculations about this (fake?) relationship, and despite coming to accept it, growing resentment poisons your system, rendering you incapable and bitter as you let your breakfast grow cold.

at least nagi correctly covered you with his jacket, your face is completely obstructed, only your body is revealed. you thank your lucky stars that you decided to not wear your ‘blue lock’ staff clothes that morning and just opted for your own athletic wear, that way your identity could be hidden at least just a little.

a message from reo captures your attention and you click on it immediately.

reo: is that you with nagi?

you: yeah!

reo: about fucking time. got sick of you two never doing anything.

you: haha 😐thanks reo 😐

reo: did he take you to the night market last night?

you: yeah! it was fun :)

reo: that’s good, nagi’s been waiting forever.

reo: don’t break his heart

you scoff at the irony of reo’s last text, typing something noncommittal before throwing your phone else where.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

the whole team practically knows about you and nagi when you return to work the following monday and the second you enter the building, you’re swarmed by the friendly faces of bachira, isagi, and chigiri, who are seemingly holding a tired nagi hostage. quite an amusing sight. three people, who are roughly a head shorter than the white-haired, restraining a lethargic 6’3 athlete with their bodies.

“are you really dating nagi?” isagi begins before you could even fit in a ‘hello’.

“uh… yeah?” you sound unsure; because you are. a fake relationship is still a relationship, it’s just that one party is more infatuated with the other.

“damn. i didn’t think it was real,” mutters chigiri. “are you sure? he’s not like… paying you to do this, right? you like like him?”

“yes?” you exclaim, a little overwhelmed. “i’m not getting any monetary returns even though i wish i did.” nagi narrows his eyes at you, you poke out your tongue. “please, no more questions, it’s way too early for this.”

“you don’t know how long we’ve been waiting for nagi to ask you out, y/n. even we placed money on him,” reveals isagi but before you could say anything in response, bachira cuts in, practically skipping up to the white-haired.

“finally grew some balls and asked, good job bro!” bachira sings, patting nagi on the back with a violet slap before disappearing.

“see you at practice, nagi!”

the three athletes disappear and you finally exhale after holding in a breath for what felt like ages. what an animated way to start the day.

you hold your breath again when nagi approaches to stop in front of you, a singular coffee cup in his hand; one that he holds out to you.

“good morning, nagi,” you greet.

“hey, i got you coffee.” instinctively, you take the cup from him, immediately warmed up by the heat emanating from it. “i hope it’s still warm. i’ve been waiting for you for a while.”

“you were waiting for me?”

“yeah. wanted to see you before going to training. makes my day less of a bother.”

you smile into your cup, trying to hide the effect that nagi has on you. you were so stupid for him it was insane.

“i’m sorry for making you wait, the trains were a little delayed this morning,” you confess, “but thank you. you’re very thoughtful, nagi.”

his face contorts into an ugly expression, a display of his feelings that are quickly quelled by the feeling of your cold hand grabbing his warm ones. “you take public transport to work?”

“i don’t want to pay for parking and everything. it’s not all bad, i get lovely views and a wake up call every morning.”

the white-haired athlete makes a face of contemplation briefly. “let me pick you up from now on.”

“no, it’s fine. i don’t want to be more of a hassle. i know how much you hate waking up to even just come to work so-”

“-i want to.”

your heart flutters at his insistence and all you can mutter out is a feeble ‘ok’ before slipping your hand out of his. you don’t know if you’ll ever be able to get used to the way nagi seishiro so effortlessly warms your insides; to the point that it becomes an unrecognisable pool of putty.

after a moment, you regain your senses. “you should be going off to practise. don’t make ego mad before the day even starts.”

he groans, “won’t you come and watch? i’ll feel a little better if you’re there.”

“i have my own work to get to but i don’t have many checkups today so if i can, i will.”

“i suppose that’s good enough,” mutters nagi before pulling you in for a loose hug, arms wounding around your waist, breathing you in before stepping back, as if rejuvenated by your touch and presence alone.

“work hard, nagi.”

you go your separate ways, him to the field and you to your office where various coworkers resided.

after a morning of answering emails, going to meetings and consulting the results from various body screenings, you finally have a chunk of time around 11:45 am to go and watch practice. as soon as you entered the training grounds, you’re a little stunned and impressed to see that they were all doing shooting drills, landing them perfectly with no effort, the harsh sound of shoe slapping against leather ringing throughout the area.

nagi notices you almost immediately, his eyes lighting up a little when you shoot him a small wave before wandering into the bleachers, taking a seat in a second row.

you continue watching, straightening up in your seat whenever it’s nagi’s turn, waiting to watch the genius at work. the results are no less than impressive every time but you have to pretend like you weren’t at all marvelling at him whenever he turns around and looks at you expectantly.

15 minutes later, ego calls for an hour lunch break, allowing the players to break off to do whatever their heart desires. the first thing nagi does is walk over to where you sit in the stands, leaning over the first row of chairs to reach you.

“why hello there, soccer sensation,” you greet and he gives you a lazy smile.

“hi.”

“you going to go for lunch?”

“yeah. have you had something to eat yet or do you wanna grab a bite together?”

“i brought cup noodles but i don’t mind. don’t you want to go with your friends?”

“you’re better.”

“please shut up, that’s so cringe,” you murmur with an undeniable grin, one that causes his gaze to soften as well. “let’s get lunch together then.”

“let me get dressed,” the athlete says, about to run off when you abruptly stop him, causing him to turn around suddenly, his hair whipping around with his actions. “what’s up?”

beckoning him over, he returns to where he stood before and you take out a hair tie, one that you store in your pockets all the time just in case. “does your hair not bother you when you practise?” you silently ask for permission, hand merely hovering near his head until you realise that he was okay with the contact. “it’s getting all in your face, even i was annoyed when watching you.”

gently, you run your hands through his hair and despite the sweat on his forehead, it’s still soft and fluffy. goodness you could play with it forever.

then, you gather nagi’s front bangs, bringing them together to resemble a unicorn horn, tying it with your hairband. when you part from your work, you’re pleasantly surprised that it holds but you suppress a giggle because of how ridiculous he looks, paired with that dazed look in his eyes, you never thought you’d see nagi like this.

when you reach to tug your hairband out of his hair, he waves you off, taking the updo out himself.

“can i keep the hairband?” he pleads and you quirk an eyebrow.

“it’s just a hairband,” you say.

“so you won’t miss it right?”

“no, i won’t-”

“-okay, epic,” he mumbles before putting the hair tie around his wrist and a part of you swells with pride at the sight; a feeling that you try to shove down with little success. “can i get changed now?”

“yes, go.”

whilst you watch the white-haired disappear from your vision, you can’t help but wonder how you got yourself into this situation with such a weirdo. still, you adore said weirdo and this was no one’s fault but your own.

nagi wears the hair tie for the remainder of the day.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

roughly two months or so pass by and the days become a blur, especially since training is becoming more rigorous for the team due to the preparations for their spring soccer season. your schedule is piled day by day with athletes coming for their regular checkups and consultations, leaving you drained as soon as the work day is over.

nagi, your loving ‘partner’ notices this because he always likes to stick around after hours and bother you for a massage. he always insists that you do it because it’s like an immediate ‘full heal’ but you just think that he’s too lazy to book a professional masseuse and that you’re the next best thing.

whatever. at least he’s cute.

“i hardly see you nowadays,” he mutters, voice muffled by the leather bed of your workspace.

you gather a little more lotion on your hands, spreading it along his calves before pressing your thumbs into his muscles, trying to identify where any tight spots might be. “i’m sorry, i don’t have much time nowadays. appointments with you guys go all the way til six, and i don’t get home until 6:30. then i’m practically out like a light.”

he hums in torment and in consideration, tensing his shoulders a little as a natural response to the pain in his legs. “well, tomorrow’s a saturday. can i take you out?”

“i don’t know, some athletes may sporadically come and bother me to get a massage so i’ll let you know if anything comes up.”

“be serious.”

“i am free tomorrow.”

“sick. keep it that way.”

“even if athletes bother me for a much-needed massage in order to perform at their best?”

he huffs something in response before flopping his face back down on the leather bed, the (seemingly invincible) knots in his calves taking too much of your attention for you to think too hard about tomorrow’s date with nagi.

he’s still wearing your hair tie around his wrist.

true to his word, nagi picks you up the next day at 3pm for your date since he insisted that was the earliest he would be ready by (meaning, it’s the earliest he can wake up). when you meet him, you’re a little stunned by the amount of disguises he’s wearing. sunglasses, beanie, and a face mask, you’re not sure whether he’s going to attract more attention or blend in.

also, when you’re 6’3 it’s hard to avoid eyes.

“hey, i’m supposed to meet someone called nagi, he’s got white hair, grey eyes, 190 cm, have you seen him?” you ask as soon as you approach the soccer player. he sighs through his mask when you erupt into a fit of laughter. “i’m just kidding.”

nagi brings down his mask to sit below his chin. “your boyfriend is right here,” he corrects, voice demanding and authoritative, sending shivers down your spine.

“so he is,” you mumble, stepping closer to engulf him in a hug. he wraps his arms around you in return and you contentedly sigh when he pulls you into the comfortable, expensive material of his hoodie. “what’s with the disguise?”

“i don’t want anyone to ruin our day out so i’m wearing this.”

“ever so thoughtful aren’t you?”

when you take a step back, nagi’s careful to not let you stray too far which is indicated through the protective arm he keeps around your shoulders.

“should we get going?”

“yeah.”

the white-haired laces your hands with his, his grip gentle yet committed to keeping you near him as you stroll down the warming streets of tokyo.

“it’s finally spring,” nagi comments offhandedly, causing you shift your gaze towards him. you’re surprised that he was initiating conversation, majority of the time it was you doing the rambling and him partaking in the listening. “the cold weather was getting bothersome. hated going to practise all freezing, makes warmup so hard.”

“i like the cold weather,” you say. “it’s easier to dress for winter than it is for summer.”

“that is true.”

“do you like spring?”

“yeah, ‘s my favourite season.”

you didn’t think someone like nagi would bother too much with having a favourite season. “why’s that?”

“it’s a good season for napping and staying inside. i like that i don’t have to do much nor think about much.”

such a nagi response. you admire how stubborn he sticks to his ideals and general philosophy, it’s a comforting quality and aspect to have.

“plus it’s your birthday season,” you add.

he looks at you with a gentle smile before repeating: “it’s my birthday season.”

nagi takes you to a park where the cherry blossoms are in full bloom, its petals decorating the scenery and ground, creating a dainty, lovely carpet of pink and beauty. however, the main attraction of the date isn’t the scenery of the park but rather, the lake where several pedal boats float on the water; some occupied, some vacant.

the soccer player shows the attendant his purchased tickets, getting them scanned before you’re led to get on one of the boats.

“so… are you liking the date?” nagi asks when you’re out far enough from the dock so that no one can hear you. here, he takes off his mask, tucking it into his pocket.

“i am, i’ve been wanting to ride one of these boats for a long time but i’ve just never found the time,” you confess. “i’m glad that it’s with you. thanks, nagi.”

he looks away, an obvious pink tint appearing on his cheeks as he rubs his neck in embarrassment. “it’s okay, i s’pose.”

“you’re so cute,” you say whilst raising one hand to drag through his hair.

“stop,” he whines but not brushing you off or pulling away, instead, he leans into your touch.

a few minutes of silence pass by before nagi speaks up again, retreating back into his personal space as he fishes for something in his hoodie pocket. he pulls out a long velvet box, handing it over for you to take which you do with a little hesitation.

“i wanted to give you something to mark two months,” he tells you and you feel your heart drop.

“wait what? two months? i didn’t know we were celebrating that!” (because you spend too much time fretting over the day he’d tell you that he wants to break up, not needing this fake relationship anymore.) “i didn’t get you anything, i feel terrible now-”

“-it’s not a big deal, i just wanted to give you something.”

“nagi i can’t accept this, this is too good-”

“-i insist.”

“but i don’t have anything for you-”

in the blink of an eye his hands are clasped tightly around yours, his face incredibly close to yours that you’re stupefied into silence. “i. insist.”

you stare at him for another three seconds before relenting, opening the velvet box with the utmost care in fear that you might drop it in the water; a horrifying thought.

a gasp of delight slips out of your mouth when you see an emerald necklace beaming brightly in your face. it’s in the shape of a pendant, encrusted around a halo plate with gold surrounding it, and from the looks of it, it couldn’t have been cheap.

looking back up at him to express the disbelief you feel, you’re silenced by the gentle look in his eyes, one that shines with adoration and devotion.

“it’s beautiful,” you whisper, unable to talk much louder in fear that it’ll cause the emerald to shatter in your hand. “you shouldn’t have.”

“i wanted to because i really like you. stop worrying.”

you exhale deeply, a little flustered and caught off guard by how candid he was. this feels suspiciously real.

“where did you learn to be so romantic?” you quiz, using humour to narrow how awkward you felt.

“shoujos,” he answers shamelessly.

“ah.” makes sense as to why he makes you feel like you’re in one. “can you help me put the necklace on?”

the white-haired shines with glee, features brightening for a second. “y-yeah, of course.”

“thank you.”

when he grasps the jewellery in his hold you turn around to expose the back of your neck to him, practically holding your breath when you feel his warm fingers brush against your skin, his touch barely there yet still prominent enough to blaze trials of fire where he caresses.

“how do i look?” you ask, turning back around.

“beautiful,” he says, no louder than a whisper.

eventually the boat ride comes to an end and you return back to the dock. a lingering feeling of bliss and giddiness resonates in your chest, evident in the undeniable grin plastered on your face whilst you walk through the park; this time with a pretty gemstone adorning your neck.

“nagi, look!” you exclaim, gesturing over to a company-branded photo booth that had set itself up in the middle of the park. there were various people lining up for one and judging by the pleased squeals from groups of students, it would be a nice memory to keep for today. “should we take one?”

“sure,” he shrugs, letting you drag him to hop in the queue which was going much faster than you anticipated.

when it’s your turn, there’s hardly any time to discuss poses when the cameraman clicks the countdown button so unexpectedly. you reflexively hug nagi whilst smiling and he just gives a simple peace sign. he then stands behind you, wrapping his arms around you to place his head atop yours. finally, he bends down to kiss your cheek, rendering you completely mentally inable as you default a pose, not entirely too sure which one whilst you wait for the countdown and the camera flash.

“you guys are so cute!” the photographer exclaims, handing your photobooth strips already. even then you hadn’t regained your senses, relying on nagi to guide you with his hand on the small of your back.

glancing down at the photo strip, you’re stunned into speechlessness at the last photo. you can still remember the feeling of his lips on your cheek, specks of his warmth lingering on your skin whilst you continue trying to register what just happened.

you might explode or something.

“cute,” nagi mumbles whilst putting the photo strip into his wallet, pulling you in by the waist to stand closer to him, whispering in your ear. “i still have one place i want to take you.”

“do you?” you squeak, earning you a nod as he leads you through the park, coming to a stop when you enter a somewhat secluded section that had a sign labelled ‘private picnic rooms’ with various price ranges according to the number of people.

once again, he claims to have a reservation and you’re led by an attendant towards a specific area that had a table scattered with plates of snacks and various decorations. the vibe of the room was incredible with tatami mats, a floor to ceiling glass window that outlook the cherry blossoms, and if you tried hard enough, you could hear a stream running.

“you… really outdid yourself,” you murmur, wandering over to one side of the table, expecting him to sit on the other. instead, he takes the spot right beside you.

you’re not too sure if this layout is how the establishment intended it to be but it is now.

“so you like it?”

“i do. i love everything you’ve done today, you’re too good for me.”

“not true,” he grumbles, too quiet for you to address it further but loud enough for you to hear.

your relationship doesn’t make any sense to you. why is nagi trying so hard to impress you when this relationship was just for beneficial gain? what does he get from booking a pedal boat ride, buying you a (clearly expensive) emerald necklace, then taking you to have a private picnic?

picking up a piece of halved mochi with the provided fork, you give the first bite to nagi who is more than happy to oblige, chewing on it with a satisfied expression.

he’s so cute, you could pinch him.

your eyes then flit over to the decorations on the table, reaching over to the branch of cherry blossoms in a vase before you could think, ripping off one of the sticks with the bloomed flower and putting it in nagi’s hair and behind his ears. his adorableness just tripled.

“aww you look really cute with pink!”

“ya think so?”

“yeah! you’re so pretty nagi,” you reach over to fiddle with the flower, not registering how close you’d gotten to him until you feel his breath fan across your face.

then you comprehend it, frozen in place for a second as you study nagi’s beauty from an angle you hadn’t before. how his snowy hair fanned perfectly over his forehead, the way the light bounced in the reflection of his eyes, and the imperfections that littered across his skin all contributed towards making the pretty being that was nagi seishiro.

he leans in. you freak out, instinctively turning your head.

your breath gets caught in your throat when you feel nagi’s lips brush against the corners of your mouth, lingering there for a moment before parting and the look of hurt that flashes across his face hurts your soul.

did you do the right thing? you thought you did- you know nagi isn’t into you the way you are into him. this relationship was made for media attraction, for him to gain more seconds of fame, so why does he keep acting like you two are real? why does he keep protecting your identity from the internet, why did he wear a disguise when meeting you when he would have wanted to boast that he was taken, why does he want to kiss you?

why does he look so hurt when he didn’t?

this was all so confusing.

tension lingers in the air for the rest of the date. you try to compensate for it by being a little more affectionate, giving in to your desires of openly loving him for the day. nagi’s satisfied.

you don’t notice how the cherry blossom fell from his ear.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

you won’t find answers to your questions for a long time. in fact, the amount of questions you had quadrupled one night when you had spent the day at nagi’s apartment after work one day to watch a tv show that was on his ‘to-watch’ list.

“stay the night?” asks nagi, resting his head on your shoulder to give you his best puppy-dog eyes. you will yourself to not look at him by keeping your gaze firm on the television screen.

“oh this episode sounds good. maybe we can watch this then i’ll get going,” you mutter whilst fiddling with the remote, dutifully ignoring his pleads and the way he tugs at you; something that does not resonate well with him.

“oi. don’t ignore me.”

with a rough exhale, you finally turn towards him. “i can’t.”

“why not? we don’t have work tomorrow.”

“i know but i just feel bad to bother you and take up your space.”

“you’re not botherin’ me. there’s so much space here, it feels empty without you.”

“nagi-”

“-won’t you call me seishiro? or something more romantic?”

the relationship shifts with his very words and you feel the genuine desperation that bleeds from nagi through his tone. when you look him in the eye, part of you shines with hope that maybe your relationship was real and not bred for media benefit.

in this moment of weakness, you let the top of your walls crumble.

“okay, seishiro.”

he beams. a smile so pure that you shatter like glass in his hands. “yay.”

you then find yourself underneath him as he lays his entire body weight over you, pressing you into the comfortable cushions of his couch as his hands delicately run up and down your waist. paralysed with confusion at the amount of love he pours into his touch, you keep forgetting that the higher you climb, the harder the inevitable fall will be.

“stay the night, please?”

how could you say no when he was asking so nicely? “okay, seishiro.”

“yay.”

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“hey seishiro, are you ready?” you ask, fiddling with your rings as you round the corner of your living room where your oversized boyfriend is lounging across the couch whilst you got ready (boyfriend still feels weird to say even if he has zero problems with addressing himself by that title).

“yeah. let’s go-” he grumbles, cutting himself off when he glances over at you, eyes widening. “-whoa.”

heat rushes to your cheeks whilst nagi continues to shamelessly marvel at you, slowly standing up to cross the distance between you, his hands naturally hovering to hold your hips when he’s close enough. his gaze lingers even longer on the emerald necklace that sits between your collarbones. “like what you see?”

he stays silent for a second, leaving you to anticipate his answer. “we don’t have to go to isagi’s,” he mumbles. “how do we feel about staying in?”

“don’t. your best friend is hosting this party, can’t you at least show up for him?”

the white-haired sulks. “but you look so good. why should i celebrate that shortie instead of you?”

you push his face away, jokingly fed up with your boyfriend’s lazy attitude. “isagi is also my friend and i want to celebrate with him, just for an hour or two and then we can leave. deal?”

“fine.”

twenty minutes later, you arrive at isagi’s place where a good amount of his closest friends had gathered, showing up far earlier than you and nagi did.

truthfully, you were looking forward to isagi’s party since he was not throwing a massive rave where everyone was invited- those always ended up to be more unfortunate than fun in your opinion, and that wouldn’t exactly cater to his shy and sensible character. tonight was a gathering for his friends to hangout and celebrate. some you recognise from the team, some of them must be from high school or elsewhere.

bachira’s cheery face is the first one you see upon arrival, his smile wide as he practically bounces off the walls in excitement and you already begin to wonder just how many desserts and sweets he’s had upon arrival.

“hey it’s the couple of the century!” he exclaims with a wink. nagi keens at bachira’s compliment, all proud and boastful as his hand creeps up to hold your hip protectively. “lookin’ good as always!”

“yo, where’s isagi?” the white haired questions.

“around, i’ll take you to him c’mon!”

the two soccer players are off before you can even count to three, nagi and bachira disappearing into the crowd as the hyperactive boy drags your 190 cm of a boyfriend through the crowd. well, at least he took the gift you both bought with him, but now you feel a little alone and very awkward.

walking around the hallways of isagi’s, you feel a little out of place since most of them seemed to be high school friends. it’s not until you reached the kitchen that you sigh in relief, met with the familiar, friendly faces of chigiri and reo who see you first.

“hey!” the red-haired calls out, waving at you as you walk over to them. “it’s good to see you, y/n, how are you?”

“hey chigiri, hey reo, i’m good! i just arrived but this seems like a cool gathering. isagi’s really outdone himself,” you greet.

“yeah he did. good way to unwind before the soccer season gets too crazy,” reo chips in. “nice outfit by the way, you served!”

“oh shut up, you look amazing yourself. you too chigiri.”

“so… where’s nagi?” the purple-haired asks, checking his phone to see if he had received any texts from his best friend. “didn’t he come with you?”

“yeah but bachira dragged him to go talk to isagi as soon as i arrived. you know how he is.”

after a few more minutes of talking with the two, you finally pause the conversation out of concern about nagi’s whereabouts might be. you thought he’d come and find you after a while but guess you’ll search for him first.

informing the pair first before breaking away, you wander into the rooms where bachira pulled nagi into, blindly hoping that they’ll be in there. to your chagrin, there were only a few unfamiliar faces spread along the couches, discussing something with a drink in their hand. you ignore the sight of otoya and one of isagi’s friends sitting too close for comfort.

when you walk into the next room, you stop in your tracks at the sight in front of you: nagi leaning against the wall with a stranger who clearly has no distinction of personal space, their hand resting on his chest. your heart plunges the bottom of your stomach as distraught settles within you because of the scene unfolding in front of you, chest churning with a distant ache that you can’t put your finger on.

then he looks over at you.

the instinct to turn around and run overpowers any rational judgement, especially when a flurry of emotions begin to well up inside you, causing you to sink further and further in an ocean of doubt and fear.

you had no right to be jealous, not over nagi because you’re just his ‘pseudo-partner’, he’s not really yours and it’s moment like these that truly humble you into remembering. you’re just his ‘pseudo-partner’, you’re just his ‘pseudo-partner’, you’re just his-

“-where are you going?” comes an indifferent voice from behind you. all anxiety floods out of you like a broken dam. a warm, large hand tugs on your wrist and even if he had not spoke, you’d know from touch alone that it was nagi behind you. the multitude of times that he’s spent holding you, intertwining his hand with yours, and cherishing you has forced you to brand him into your memory.

you are his. even if it is not mutual, you would be his until he stomps the fire out.

“i-i thought i was interrupting something,” you stammer, looking into at nagi’s doe eyes.

“you didn’t. actually, you made it better by coming,” he says before wrapping his arms around your torso. “that person wouldn’t leave me alone, such a pain. tried to say i was taken too, so glad you came.”

you return the hug, trusting his words. “glad i came too.”

nagi pulls you out of the water.

“can we leave yet? i don’t wanna be here anymore.”

“just a little longer. i haven’t even seen isagi yet. plus, we should dance.”

he gives you a quick look up and down before nodding in agreement. you smack his shoulder.

you manage to locate isagi rather quickly. he was near the food bar where refreshments and various desserts and snacks laid so after greeting him, wishing him ‘happy birthday’, and chatting with him for approximately five minutes before nagi started getting bitchy, you’re pulled into the dance floor by the white-haired. he said that they were playing a good song when you asked why he was being so impatient.

with a laugh, you give in.

nagi doesn’t really know how to dance but you can’t help but be a little entertained, deciding to end his awkwardness when you grab his hands and lead him through some moves, singing along to the song with each other. it ends with your arms around his neck and his around your waist (again) when a slower song plays.

hiding your face in his chest, you breathe in the subtle aroma of his cologne that you urged him to put on earlier. when he gently prompts you to look up at him with a hand gently pulling on your hair, your breath gets caught in your throat at the close proximity as nagi stares at your lips, glancing up to meet your eyes again before leaning in.

this time you don’t feel as cruel, bracing yourself for the first sip of water after crossing the desert, for the final puzzle piece clicking into place, for the feeling of his lips slotting against yours; for the feeling of completion.

instantly you relax at the sensation, melting into his embrace as you hold onto him a little tighter, wanting more. you want to take as much of him as he’ll allow and even then, you’ll cherish every last part.

you want him the same way the ocean longs for the moon.

parting from him makes you feel empty. the lidded look he gives you is full of temptation and… love?

snapping out of your reverie, you step away from him, using his dazed state to create some distance between the two of you as you come to your senses. senses that scream at you for possibly ruining… this.

you hate that you keep running away from him, leaving him in the dust of the mess that are your feelings. it’s immature, irrational, and downright childish, really it is, but how else can you stop the way you’re about to burst at the seams? how can you stop yourself from devoting yourself fully to nagi seishiro if you don’t forcefully screw the lid over your emotions?

for the second time tonight, the white-haired chases after you because there was never another option. he despises being away from you and despises it even more when it’s him you’re running away from, wanting nothing more than to be by your side at all times.

for the second time tonight, he grabs your wrist but now, he leads you through isagi’s house, weaving through a series of well-kept and simply decorated rooms to finally arrive at a balcony. one that was untouched by the party goers.

“why do you keep doing this?” he asks, pleading for an answer as desperation laces his voice and eyes. “why do you keep running away?”

you’re stunned. he’s hurt by your carelessness and the way you constantly recoil from him as if he was electric, his powerful figure slouching, all his quiet confidence and stubbornness seeping out of him, running to pool at your feet.

“am i doing something wrong? i thought you liked me.”

“i-i’m confused,” you stammer stupidly.

he grows even more perplexed. “you’re confused? i’m even more confused! one second i think you like me then the next, you’re trying to avoid me. why do you keep doing this? i really really like you, y/n. but it doesn’t feel like you like me at all sometimes.”

“no!” you blurt out. “it’s not like that! i do like you, a lot, in fact i might even… love you? it’s just…”

as you try to recap the timeline of your relationship in the past few months, you find yourself at a loss for words as you truly realise the multitude of your stupidity. you might slap yourself in the face.

this entire time, nagi has liked you- genuinely liked you for who you are yet you’ve been denying the love he has been trying to share with you since you internalised it all to be a sham. that someone like nagi seishiro couldn’t want you in the same way you wanted him. you’ve been hurting him this entire time and you don’t know how to begin explaining why.

well… no other option than with one word at a time.

you go to grab both his hands, inhaling. “i didn’t think we got together based on genuine feelings.”

he recoils, eyebrows and nose scrunching.

“i thought you were using me to- i don’t know, trend on the internet by teasing everyone with some sort of secret relationship which sounds so stupid, i know, but i just couldn’t believe that you would want me for me,” you ramble, only stopping to breathe. “these few months have been amazing but i lowkey thought you were going to break up with me and say something like ‘surprise! i’ve never liked you’ before leaving me. i don’t deserve someone like you and-”

“what?”

you shut up.

“you thought you don’t deserve me? that’s the biggest lie i’ve ever heard. you’re perfect. i was the one that got lucky.”

“lucky? you? really?”

“yeah,” he breathes. “you’re like a gift sent by fate.”

that renders you speechless for a little. there’s more to say, you know there is because of the pregnant silence that lingers around the two of you for a little but maybe that’s for another time.

are you dreaming? this feels surreal. maybe you’ll start floating too.

“also, why would i want to trend for any other reason but soccer?”

“i don’t know! you asked me out really abruptly- i’ve never been asked out like that before! talk about confusing. and the paparazzi was waiting for us after too like, what was i supposed to think!”

“i see.”

“yeah.”

more silence.

“so… you love me?” nagi asks and you groan, removing your hands from his to cover your face from embarrassment.

“i guess i do,” you grumble.

“hey, don’t hide from me,” the white-haired says before grabbing your wrists to lower them from your face. “i love you too.”

“really?”

“yeah.”

“that’s cool.”

“it is.”

you do both of you a favour by kissing him fervently.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“sei, shouldn’t you be getting ready for the match or whatever it is you athletes do?” you ask when nagi’s mop of white hair peaks up from behind the door to your physio office.

he steps out from behind the doorframe, crossing the distance to get to you. he’s sporting his blue lock tracksuit with his hands dug into his pocket and you’re a little envious of how comfortable he looks. “i was until i realised you weren’t there. i was waiting for you to show up.”

“well i don’t really have to be there early. i just get there around 20 or so minutes earlier.”

“i see.”

“why, did you want me there or something?” you ask with a cheeky eyebrow raise, poking him in his sides causing him to recoil a little from your touch.

“why else would i walk all this way?”

“a stunning 50 metres- i’m so sorry for your perilous journey,” you comment, placing a kiss on his cheek before walking away from him to set up your box of medical supplies including kinesio tapes, bandages, and cold spray. he slumps down on the waiting couch near the entrance.

your role as blue lock’s official therapist meant that you had to be on standby for the team at all time during official matches. even though you aren’t their nurse, you still bring first aid things like ice packs to minimise the amount of time spent travelling between offices, especially if that distance is not needed.

after scanning the box for the last time and mentally ticking your checklist of materials required to bring, you pat your leg in satisfaction before standing up. “i can go to the field now. there’s probably tape changes that i need to do.”

nagi lazily grins, searching for your hand to help pull himself up. “yay.”

“you need to be warming up while we’re at it.”

“aw. okay.”

the walk back to the field is painless enough with nagi holding onto your hand for dear life whilst carrying your box of supplies for you. for someone who is about to compete in less than an hour, he is surprisingly calm, hardly different from his passive, pacifistic self. should you be nervous on his behalf?

stepping in to the field, you’re overwhelmed by the enormousness of blue lock’s home stadium, the lights shining down on you so brightly that you need a moment to recollect yourself. to think that all these empty seats will be filled with various people scares you mindless; even vacant it was still overwhelming.

“y/n!” isagi’s voice breaks you out of your reverie and he jogs over to you with that friendly smile of his. “what’s up?”

“hey isagi, sei dragged me out of my office,” you grumble before turning around to the white-haired who places your supplies on the ground, instructing him to: “go continue warming up.”

he grumbles something incoherent, leaning in to place a kiss on your forehead before running off, leaving you a little flustered as the dark-haired player waits patiently to talk to you.

“so what’s up?”

“i just needed my ankle to be retaped, is that okay?”

“that is my job so come over,” you say, beckoning isagi to one of the benches nearby where you decide to station yourself for the time being.

whilst you’re unrolling the adhesive, he awkwardly sits there with his shoe and sock off, exposing his joint where he already you tape it for him.

“do you want pink or blue tape?” you ask, holding up the two options.

“pink.”

the background noises of athletes shouting and kicking soccer balls fill the silence whilst you cut up the length needed to tape isagi’s ankle.

“how are you and nagi?” he asks.

“we’re good,” you respond, mentally reminding yourself to give isagi a present in exchange for his birthday being the sole reason why your relationship strengthened. “both been busy cause of the season but it’s fine.”

“that’s okay, you’re making it work!” he reassures, “well, nagi is really happy.”

“is he now?” you ask, looking intently at your hands as they worked around isagi’s ankle, hiding your giddy expression from the soccer player. the effect nagi has on you will never disappear.

“yeah! always talks about you to us.”

“does he?”

“of course, why wouldn’t he? swears you’re the best thing to have happened to him in a long time or whatever.”

your heart warms uncontrollably. nagi seishiro was going to be your downfall.

finishing up on isagi’s ankle, he tests it out quickly before thanking you and running off again to blend in with his teammates again. ‘don’t work too hard!’ you yell out after him.

after retaping chigiri’s knee, commanding karasu to do his recommended exercises, and other various checkups, the boys are ushered back into the stadium so the audience could begin filing in. before nagi went in, he runs over to you, bundling you in his arms despite the various exclaims of ‘hurry up!’ yelled at your white-haired partner.

“gotta go,” he says breathily.

“wait, shouldn’t you take this off?” you ask, gesturing to your hair tie which sat snugly at his wrist.

“do i have to?”

“you can always rewear it after the match sei, it’s not a big deal.”

“fine. i’ll see you soon then.”

you give him a smile of reassurance, hugging him back. “go. i��ll be watching, my superstar.”

his eyes shine. “cheer for me, won’t you?”

“of course i will. i’m your lucky charm,” you tease but he takes your statement quite literally, grinning at what you say which only illuminates the cheery look on his face.

“can my lucky charm give me a kiss?”

cupping his face, you quickly place a peck on his nose before lightly pushing him away. you know the kiss is not good enough to satiate his hunger but perhaps that’s just what you want from him, to try hard for a better reward. and in this case, by trying harder, he would bring home the trophy.

“go line up!” you command.

nagi grumbles something before stepping away, “i’ll score for you.”

he dashes towards the stadium entrance, leaving you in a lovesick daze as you watch him retreat. someone clears their throat behind you and you remember where you are, sitting down to preserve some professionalism.

sitting in the medics corner was scary, especially as you watch every seat getting gradually filled with an onslaught of different people, but all you need to do for the 90 minutes is watch and be attentive to the game and the health of the players. an easy job for the amount of pay you get.

when the teams walks out into the field, everyone in the stands erupt into a roar, waving their various flags and colours. despite the chaos, nagi looks over at you and you blow him a kiss, unsure of whether or not he could actually see you.

as everything settles down, the match finally begins, starting off with a bang. from time to time you talk with the two other blue lock medics and spend the other moments admiring your boyfriend in his athletic glory.

it’s not until almost halftime that something disastrous happens. when itoshi rin collides face-first into another player, toppling over on the field on top of each other, the crowd erupts into a series of gasps and concerned noises. as the referee’s whistle is called, you three official blue lock staff scramble to the middle of the field where a crowd was gathering around the two, trying to help their soccer players but stepping out of the way when you approach.

“where are you?” one medic begins asking.

“the stadium. we’re in the middle of a match,” comes rin’s gruff tone.

“you are?”

“itoshi rin.”

“how many fingers am i holding up?”

“four.”

“what hurts?”

“my fucking face,” rin snarkily replies, trying to stand up but not making it past his knees as he stumbles a little, holding on to his nose. “shit.”

taking his hand away, there are droplets of red coating his skin and you snake yourself under his arm in order to assist with helping him to the medic’s area, another nurse doing the same. hopefully it’s not serious and he won’t need be to sent to hospital, only benched by ego. which, he was.

in your panic, you don’t register any of the commotion happening within the players themselves whereas nagi, on the other hand, hears it all clearly. how a player on the team he was playing against says something like ‘look at that cutie. reckon i could cuff ‘em?’ where his friend replies with a ‘yeah dude. seems like a babe to be honest, workin’ as a nurse and shit’, geturing to you.

nagi has never felt such an overwhelming urge to punch someone, to jump the two players and tear them apart with the fury he feels accumulating in his insides.

the whistle to notify that the game was continuing disrupts nagi’s train of thought. he goes back into position but not without snaring at the opposition.

blue lock seems to be doing fine without their number one player for the remainder of the game; in fact, nagi is practically dominating the whole field as he shoots, earning goals left and right for blue lock. he’s moving with unmatched determination; a blazing kind that you’ve never seen from him despite having seen countless of his games. you wonder what happened to him since rin got injured, where did the calm, unbothered nagi go? why are you kind of scared of your boyfriend right now?

maybe your good luck kiss worked in giving him the boost you predicted.

however, you never could have predicted the huge turnaround that your life would take when nagi’s jealousy gets too ahead of itself. when his urge to show the world whose you are outspeaks his rationality, too caught up in the torments of untamed jealousy. he’s never felt this way before; a carnal desire so inherent that it makes him feel bare.

only you could do this to him.

and only you could fix the ugly monster inside him

when blue lock scores the goal needed to take the trophy home, the stadium is deafening, so loud that you need to cover your ears from the unrestrained passion of fans and watchers alike, the buzz of excitement unmatched.

nagi is awarded man of the match, taking home a shiny trophy in recognition of his athleticism and remarkable talents. yet the first thing he does when taking his prize is not rush over to his teammates and… do whatever it is that men do, but to run over to where you reside, a possessive and dark look in his eyes. it sends shivers down your spine.

he sweeps you into his arms, winding you so close that you can feel the body heat radiating from him, even through the fabric of his jersey. the trophy presses against your back.

“can i kiss you?” nagi questions although it sounds more like a demand, especially with that breathy voice due to how much he’s been running around.

short circuiting for a moment, you reply: “but everyone’s watching.”

“let them.”

you’re well aware of the multitude of cameras that may be pointed at you and nagi. if you act stupidly, it will appear on the internet and who knows what repercussions it might bring, are you ready to be thrown into a life of chaos, joining alongside your boyfriend?

the answer is obvious when you take the initiative of kissing him, allowing him to devour you whole: his first act of establishing just exactly who you were to the entire world.

you adore how scandalous this feels.

his second act comes mere minutes later at the exit where paparazzi and media were waiting patiently behind barriers for their star players. this time, instead of leaving alone or with his teammates, there’s an unidentified figure accompanying him, hugged close to his side and proudly wearing his jersey. the very one that boasts ‘NAGI’ along the back. everything descends into chaos.

an immense feeling of deja vu encompasses you when you recall the day nagi asked you out and the overwhelming lineup of paparazzi and photographers that waited for him outside. it’s different now. you feel confident in your place beside nagi, looking perfect to him in his clothes- as if you were meant to be his.

nagi walks in front of you to use his stature to protect from the greedy eyes of the internet whilst you use your hands to cover your face as best as possible, all to ensure your privacy from those who are going to eat these photos up when they see them.

and- well, if everyone is going to see them then why not send a little message whilst nagi’s here?

the kiss nagi sneaks on your neck is entirely proprietorial, a clear sign of affection for the whole world to see as he eyes the cameras with a deadly look in his eyes.

“mine,” he mutters in your ear, sending one last glare over his shoulder before disappearing from their nosiness and intruding flashes.

the cameras can see your hair tie that slips up when his sleeves are tugged too short.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

your notifications are rampant the next morning, mostly because of friends, and ‘#nagi seishiro’ has taken the internet by storm once again.

this feeling of anxiety settling in your stomach will never go away whenever you check social media to see if any of your information has been leaked and by whatever miracle, you’re absolutely relieved to see that nothing drastic has been revealed.

speaking of boyfriend, nagi stirs from where he lays beside you, stretching for a moment before patting the bed in search for your warmth.

shutting off your phone and putting it down, you watch him try to locate you, unable to stop the smile from stretching at the corner of your lips. he’s adorable. even more so when he has to open one eye because his instincts were failing him.

“oh. why are you awake?” he asks groggily, still adjusting to consciousness. nagi tries to sit up to rest on his elbows only to fail miserably and fall face-first into his lush pillow.

“body clock,” you say. you’ll talk about yesterday later. right now, it was just you and him and the soft glow of the sun saying good morning.

“turn it off and go back to sleep.”

“fine.”

“c’mere,” nagi beckons you over weakly, hands reaching for your figure but falling short due to the enormous size of his bed.

it’s not like nagi to splurge on things but it is like him to splurge on getting the most comfortable bed ever, so when he demands you to fall back asleep, how could you say no when it feels like napping on a cloud? and with your adorable boyfriend? some things in life come too easy.

shuffling back towards him, he’s quick to throw an arm and a leg around you, trapping you in.

“my body hurts,” whines nagi. “so much.”

“what do you want me to do about that?”

“massage later, please?”

“is that all i am to you?” you question teasingly whilst rubbing hearts into his skin.

“maybe,” he sings.

astounded, you give him your best look of betrayal. “we’re breaking up.”

“no, don’t do that,” nagi pleads, hugging you closer as if you were going to get up from his vice grip in the first place. “don’t be mean.”

“oh sure because i’m the mean one,” you joke as he burrows his head into your neck. instinctively, your hands card through his hair, extra soft from washing it last night. after a moment of silence, you speak up. “you’re trending again because of me so just remember that what i said about our fame-grabbing relationship was true.”

“i didn’t mean for that to happen. i’m just too good,” he takes his head out of your neck, doe eyes looking up at you with heart wrenching awe. “and i love you too much to hide it.”

you pat his cheek, unable to stop a wide, dreamy smile from appearing on your face. “go back to sleep.”

“‘k. goodnight.” the second nagi’s head hits his pillow, he’s out like a light.

it’s a little surreal to be wrapped in his embrace like this, to be able to gaze at his features so closely and unabashedly whilst his arms extend to mould you into him. even being as close as humanly possible isn’t enough for nagi who has an unlimited desire for more, at all times.

if it’s you he wants, then you’ll happily grant it.

the last thing you see before falling into a deep slumber is a hair tie that lies on his bedside table.

#pls be nice to me i'm really fragile rn i'm sorry this wasn't amazing #nagi x reader #nagi fluff #nagi seishiro x reader #seishiro x reader #nagi x you #nagi drabble #blue lock x reader #blue lock nagi x reader #blue lock drabble #blue lock fluff #bllk fluff

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midniiights-garden · 4 months

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General HCs on Mizu with an S/O

First Meeting: How would she have most likely come into contact with the reader?

Personally I believe that Mizu would have most likely met her future S/O whilst they were travelling or working.

I'm gearing this more towards non-binary/female readers so if you're a guy reading this I'm sorry 😞

Anyways, yeah she probably met her S/O whilst they were either running away from something, hiding themselves or maybe as a brothel worker.

Either way I really think the first meeting would go the same no matter how you met her.

She'd be pretty cold and distant as she is with most people, keeping her distance both physically and emotionally. At first she won't treat her future S/O that differently than others.

Her Type: What would her type be?

I see Mizu as someone who needs stability. So ideally her S/O wouldn't be someone with the tendency to need adventure or conflict to thrive.

She would probably want someone who knows who they are, someone she doesn't need to take care of as an addition to herself. Someone who is ok with being alone especially since Mizu strikes me as the type to need time to herself often.

I also think she wouldn't be great with words of affirmation, so if you really need words to feel secure I don't think she'd be a great partner for that. Throughout the show I notice that she shows appreciation mainly through acts of service and quaility time, and this would still be the case with her S/O.

In terms of apperance I don't think she'd actually care too much. I think she may have an unconcious bias towards other Asians since she was raised in Japan, but due to her prior experience with racisim I don't think she'd necessarily be willing to be with someone of European lineage. I think that this might change through time though, especially once Mizu manages to come to terms with her own features. Then I think she'd be pretty unbiased.

They'd also have to be more on the mature side. Not necessarily in terms of age, but just personality wise. Someone who is self-aware and understanding and paitent.

Trust: How trusting would she be?

At first not very.

Obviously she has had incredibly negative experiences with relationships, so once she had an S/O I think she may still struggle with making the difference between her past relationship and her current one.

This may result in a bit of a turbulent start and I think there may be more arguements.

However, as time goes on and she realises that her S/O is truly in love with her for who she is and would probably die for her she starts to open up some more.

I've seen other headcanons saying that she becomes more feminine once she's comfortable with her S/O and I 100% agree with it. Just imagining her with her S/O, her hair down and letting her partner put makeup on her makes me blush and giggle ngl. Like, she is stunning. Breathtaking. Absolutely gorgeous. Words cannot describe how wonderful she is.

Anyways-

Yeah it would be like the reverse of "calm before the storm".

Arguements: How would she handle an arguement between her and her S/O?

Ok, so firstly I think an arguement would probably arise due to her aforementioned unwillingness to open up. Her S/O would be tired of being kept in the dark or worried about Mizu and would pry, and Mizu would snap.

I think Mizu would actually end up storming off, wanting to cool down first before coming back.

Mizu isn't one to solve things with violence when it comes to the people she cares about, so I think she'd prefer to talk things out calmly instead of yelling.

It may turn into yelling if said S/O tried to follow her when she leaves to go cool down though.

After the arguement she may be a little cold for a couple of days before returning to her usual self.

Marriage: Does she want to get remarried?

At the beginning of the relationship I do not think she was very willing to get married again. (Fuck you M*kio.)

Of course, as I mentioned plenty of times before she would have a lot of reservations in terms of opening herself up emotionally.

She fears getting married again might be a Mikio pt. 2 which would not be great for her mental health.

But as the relationship grows and her S/O proves that they intended to stay by her side ring or not... that's when she starts to consider the idea again. Especially since this time it's with someone she truly loves and who loves her back.

Her wedding would be small. Obviously. No hate to my precious baby but she doesn't have a whole lot of friends nor family to invite over. It would most likely just consist of her S/O and her, Ringo and Akemi. Who may or may not have dragged Taigen along.

Mizu would get to wear her wedding attire and properly get married to the love of her life. 😭😭😭

I can imagine her being really nervous beforehand, wondering if her S/O might consider her ugly once she saw her in her wedding attire and what not.

But of course her S/O would be like "stfu you're beautiful".

All in all it'd be a pretty emotional affair, lots of crying (behind doors for Mizu) and hugs.

(A/N: Ok. So I may have lied when I said general. Listen, in my defense I'm basically just throwing up my ideas here.)

#i love women #mizu blue eye samurai #wlw #blue eye samurai #i love fictional characters #mizu x reader #mizu x you #x reader #x you #fluff #x reader fluff #headcannons #mizu come home the kids miss you #mizu

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jgracie · 4 days

Text

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ SPEED DRIVE!

ferrari driver!percy jackson x fem!reader

masterlist | rules

warnings one swear word!

on the radio . . . speed drive (charlie xcx)

percy knew it was a bad idea leaving his house without at least a pair of sunglasses to conceal his identity. he was craving cookie dough ice cream, the grocery store wasn’t too far away and it was the middle of the night - who would possibly recognise him at a time like this?

the answer is many people. while percy did love his loyal fans, both tifosi and others, even he had to admit they were a little crazy. all it took was for one to snap a photo and post it on twitter and the rest seemed to immediately spawn all around him

“percy, is it true that luke might lose his seat next year?” he heard one voice say as he attempted to weave through the thick crowd of people. why couldn’t he have one second of peace? unfortunately, percy had made another awful decision that night - walking to the grocery store

this left ferrari’s golden boy with two options: either tough out the wall home with fans and paparazzi alike swarming him, or find someone who was willing to drive him home. with cars on the street in front of him were stationery thanks to the red light, percy made his decision

he bolted for the first one that caught his eye, a car that was small, (ironically) bright red and most importantly had an open roof. percy also had to admit the driver was kind of pretty, at least from what he could see from that far away

the light turned yellow and you prepared yourself to continue driving. you’d only recently gotten your drivers license and this was your first time driving without someone more experienced with you in the car, so you were just praying to end up at your apartment in one piece

just as the light became green and you began to drive, some random guy jumped into the passenger seat of your car, causing your heart rate to increase dramatically and your foot to immediately press on the brakes - out of shock or fear (or both), you weren’t sure

“drive!” he nearly yelled at you. you just stared at him, your mouth agape. it was way too late at night for this. at your state, percy huffed and leaned over to the wheel, beginning to steer for you

this snapped you out of the daze you were in and you slapped his hands away, your brows furrowing in anger as you drove, “who the fuck are you and what do you think you’re doing in my car? i’m pulling over right now, you need to get out.”

“no, please, i promise i didn’t mean any harm! can you just drop me off at my house?” he asked. you didn’t need to look at him to know he was incredibly desperate. who was this guy? as you recalled his face from when he first got into your car, you realised he did look a little familiar, but you still couldn’t figure out his identity

at your silence, percy continued, “i’ll do anything, do you like car racing? i can get you tickets for that!”

okay, so he was rich rich. you didn’t know the first thing about racing, but one of your friends was obsessed with formula one. specifically, a driver called peter jameson (or something along those lines). still, you rolled your eyes at his offer, disliking the way he attempted to bribe you

“no, it’s fine, you don’t have to do anything. where do you live?”

after percy told you his address, the car ride was silent. neither of you knew what to say to the other. you were still shaken by his sudden appearance, and percy was trying to conceal the blush that coated his cheeks. he was right, you were beautiful. the moon made your skin glow and your eyes brighter. from the death grip you had on the wheel, percy could tell you were new at driving. cute

“thanks a lot, you have absolutely no idea how much you helped me tonight,” percy said as he got out of your car. part of you was a little sad to see him go. sure, he freaked you out, but something about him was magnetic - maybe it was those sea green eyes that put all of poseidon’s oceans to shame, or the light dusting of freckles you hadn’t noticed until now

giving him a small smile, you said, “you’re welcome. have a good night.” you stayed for a little and watched as he entered his home, a bittersweet feeling tugging at your heart

once you’d gotten home, you noticed he’d left something on the passenger seat. a strip of paper with a line of messily scrawled numbers lay on the leather

call me. (917) 173-1839 — PJ

#percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson #percy jackson x fem reader #pjo #pjo x reader #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson blurb #f1 driver pjo #f1 driver percy jackson #f1 driver percy jackson x reader #cynwrites

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 1 year

Text

Pretty When You Cry.

Joel realises his morals are fucked. You realise you like it.

Pairing - Joel Miller x female reader

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - Lots of cursing, sexual content, mentions of prostitution

Word Count - 1750

Author's Note - oh boy. buckle in. i love when a character has a messed up moral compass and is a little rough and jagged around the edges. i also love lana del rey. hence, this joel fic was born. please enjoy.

Masterlist. Requests.

“Stupid fuckin’ girl,” Joel spits at you.

You flinch and step backwards, trying to escape what is inevitably going to be a brutal verbal assault. The older man watches your every move and chuckles darkly.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Nowhere, is the answer. You’re down a dark alleyway in the QZ, a barely lit back street. Even if you run, you’ll just end up circling back around. You’re walled in – both literally and figuratively.

Joel moves towards you, his large frame making you want to shrink away instinctively. He towers over you, broad shoulders blocking your view.

“What the fuck were you thinking?”

You weren’t, is the issue.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

Joel has been desperate for a car battery for weeks. A few days ago, you’d overheard a guy talking about smuggling spare parts. You’d set up a covert meeting, and asked if he could get you what you needed. He’d told you he could – for a price. It didn’t matter that the currency was you. You’d do what you needed to do. For Joel.

You’d made your way to meet him tonight. His name was Pete, you were pretty sure. He was a sleaze, a real piece of work - but he had connections. He had people working for him, could practically get you anything if you asked nicely and promised to pay.

You had nothing to your name. No one did, these days. You knew you couldn’t pay Pete with alcohol, or cigarettes, or drugs. No, you’d give him something else. You’d give him you. An offer which he eagerly accepted.

He wanted you to pay before he’d give you the battery. You’d argued, but it was no use. You didn’t want to make him angry – it’d only make it worse.

So there you were. He had backed you against the wall of this very alleyway, demanding you take off your shirt. Just as you were lifting the hem over your head, Pete hit the ground.

You looked up to see Joel, more furious than you’d ever seen him before. He’d punched Pete in the head and knocked him out cold.

“What the actual fuck are you doing?” he hissed.

“Well I was doing you a favour. Not anymore, apparently,” you hissed back.

“A favour? You’re whoring yourself out as a favour?”

“Fuck you, Joel,” you spat, turning on your heel to leave.

Joel grabbed your wrist and pulled you backwards with force, taking no care whatsoever. You were worried he was going to snap your arm, the way he was clutching it.

“Stupid fuckin’ girl.”

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

“Are you even listenin’ to me? What the fuck were you thinking?”

He’s looking at you pointedly, clearly expecting some sort of explanation. You’re not really sure what to say. When you don’t answer, he takes another few steps forward, intimidating you until your back is pressed against the rough brick of the wall.

Joel grabs your chin between his fingers and forces you to look at him. His fury hasn’t subsided – you can still feel it rolling off of him in waves. He’s buzzing with adrenaline, the electricity of it infectious, seeping into your pores.

“You better have a damn good reason as to why I just watched you take your shirt off for Pete fuckin’ Davis.”

He spits the man’s name like it tastes disgusting in his mouth. It makes you smirk slightly.

“You think this is funny? Huh?” Joel asks, squeezing your face tighter. You shake your head, not once breaking eye contact with him. He stares you down for a minute before releasing his grip.

“He has a battery,” you explain quietly. “He’s been selling spare parts. Said he could get me what you need if we cut a deal. It’s a small price to pay, Joel.”

“That is not a small price.”

The genuineness of it makes you wince.

The thing is, Joel doesn’t usually care about this kind of stuff. He’s not exactly an upstanding citizen, having made his fair share of dumb deals and below the belt exchanges. He’s usually the one encouraging you to break the rules a little, if it means you both benefit.

Above all, you are convinced that Joel doesn’t care about you. He doesn’t care about anyone, not really. You know that he and Tess have this ambiguous sort of partnership - friendship at a complete stretch. But that’s it. Joel doesn’t care.

So why is he so furious?

His rage has infected you now. You’re exasperated, sick of the mixed signals. You and Joel were partners in crime, acquaintances at most. It didn’t matter that when he looked at you, the whole world fell away. It didn’t matter than when you heard his voice, time stopped temporarily. It didn’t matter that he was the last thing you thought about at night and the first thing you thought about in the morning. None of it mattered.

“Why do you fucking care, Joel?” you spit, shoving at his chest. His scent is suffocating you, making it hard to think. You need to put some distance between you before you do something reckless.

“Why do I care? Why do I fuckin’ care?” he practically yells at your face. “Are you that stupid?”

“Stop calling me stupid!” you retaliate. “I’m smarter than every damn person in this place!”

“Smart enough to turn to prostitution?”

That word makes you scoff.

“It wasn’t like that. It would have been a one time thing. A quick payment.”

“That’s not a fuckin’ payment! That’s the one thing you shouldn’t fuck around with!”

You can tell he’s genuinely upset, but you’re not sure why. It’s none of his business what you choose to do with your body.

“I was doing this for you, asshole! He would have given me the battery, and you could have gone and found Tommy. I did this for you,” you yell, shoving him as hard as you can. He doesn’t move.

“Keep your fuckin’ voice down,” he hisses.

“Don’t tell me what to do!”

“God damn it! You never fuckin’ listen, do you? How stupid are you, huh?”

Joel takes a heavy step forward, one hand reaching out to wrap around your throat. He doesn’t squeeze, just keeps it there, holding you in place. Right where he wants you.

His eyes darken, still alight with fury. He smells like smoke and musk and sweat and spearmint toothpaste. You want to lick the exposed skin of his neck to see if he’d taste the same.

He leans in, almost bumping your nose with his.

“We don’t fuck around with that stuff, alright?” he murmurs. “I’ve seen pretty girls like you get hurt real bad for a lot less. You can’t let them treat you as any less than human.”

You’ve never heard him this sincere. It sends a shiver down your spine.

“Why do you care, Joel?” you whisper. “I’m just as disposable to you as I am to the rest of them.”

He pauses, and you can see the cogs turning in his head. He’s still holding you by the neck, his other hand coming around to tangle in the back of your hair. He’s looking at you so intently that you feel your bravado start to waiver. Your bottom lip quivers, and your eyes begin to well up. A drop runs down your cheek, and the dam breaks.

He’s never seen you get upset like this. You’re trying to stay stoic, but the tears are falling freely, dripping down your face.

This is the moment Joel realises that he’s a changed man. He’s known for years that his morals aren’t what they used to be. They can’t be, not in this world. He’s murdered, robbed, tortured, kidnapped. His moral compass was broken a long time ago. But the change has never dawned on him, until now. He’s holding you roughly, watching you try not to sob, and he doesn’t feel sad. He doesn’t feel sympathy, or regret, or remorse. No. He feels a sick sense of arousal. He’s turned on.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, looking at you carefully. Your lip quivers again, and his resolve breaks completely. He’s surprised he doesn’t hear it shatter.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty when you cry.”

With that, he’s surging forward, dipping his head to lick at your tear stained cheeks. Your sadness is salty and sweet and real. He’s hooked.

Joel presses forward and kisses you harshly. His hand tightens in your hair, yanking you closer to him. He presses your bodies together, and the warmth of him makes your head spin.

You’re still crying as you moan into his mouth. He’s rough and careless and you want more. He groans, and presses you backwards into the wall, the brick scratching up your back. Everything is blurry for the both of you. He’s grabbing at you, groping anything he can find. He’s searching for skin, hands making their way up and under your shirt. You know how risky it is, making out with Joel in a back alley in the middle of the QZ. You don’t care. Neither of you do. You’re drunk on each other and it’s clouding your judgment.

“You like it when I’m mean to you, honey?” he murmurs, voice jagged and low. He’s kissing at your neck, nipping the skin and leaving purple bruises in his wake.

“Yeah, Joel, fuck. I love it,” you whine. “I love you.”

The both of you freeze at your confession. You’re honestly not sure if you mean it, or if it’s just the heat of the moment. It doesn’t matter now. You’ve said it, and you can’t take it back.

“You think you do,” he mutters against your throat. “But love doesn’t exist in this world. Not anymore.”

You both pause, heavy breaths filling the air. After a while, you break the silence.

“I’m sorry, Joel,” you whisper. “I’m sorry. So fucking sorry.”

You’re not sure whether you’re apologising for loving him, or admitting it, or for the events of the evening. You’re just sorry.

“Don’t be sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs gently against your mouth as he kisses you again. “Don’t be sorry.”

He takes you up against the red brick wall, legs wrapped around his waist and arms tangled around his neck. Your back is cut and bleeding, throat sore and pulsing where he’s bitten you. He makes you come twice before he finishes himself, teeth sinking into your shoulder, hands leaving prints on your hips.

Joel says that love doesn’t exist anymore. You think he’s wrong.

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save-the-villainous-cat · 23 days

Note

So sidekick is like the protective younger sibling (or younger sibling figure) of hero and they find out their older sibling is having a thing with the villain so they go and confront the villain and is all like “you don’t deserve to date my big sibling you sick, nasty villain”

But then villain pulls out the reverse uno card and is all like “oh please as if i don’t know you’re secretly seeing my henchman at the club every Friday night 🤨” then sidekick is like “😦😦they’re your HENCHMAN?-“

“I swear, if you touch them—”

“Oh please, they beg me for it.” They took a sip of their drink and leaned back, satisfied by the entertainment the sidekick gave them.

They were a lot like the hero, the villain realised. An angrier and smaller version of their nemesis.

“Ugh. Ew. Argh— I mean it, if you hurt them, you’re done.” The sidekick raised their finger but the villain couldn’t help but smile.

“What are you gonna do? Uninvite me to your birthday party?”

“You—”

In a sense, it put the villain’s mind at ease. To know that someone was there who was just as worried, just as protective over the hero was comforting. The hero needed to be protected with all their hot-headedness and impulsive decisions.

They could get into a lot of trouble, into a lot of fights. The villain had seen the scars.

“Listen, kid. You’re worried. But I promise, I don’t have any ill intentions.” They tapped their fingers against their glass.

The villain couldn’t get their mind off the hero. It was an actual problem at this point. It was more than a crush, more than dating. The villain was so helplessly devoted they found themselves pathetic.

A few months prior, they would’ve loathed this. But it was easy to forget everything when the hero’s hand was on their arm. When their fingers intertwined. When the hero held onto them when they got scared.

“Sorry, but I don’t exactly trust a villain. Do you think I’m dumb?”

“No. You’re clever and that’s why you’re going to believe me,” the villain said. “If I wanted them dead, they would be. Instead, I am stitching them back together.”

“That’s my job.”

“It shouldn’t be. You’re a kid.”

“I’ve been taking care of them my entire life.”

The villain tilted their head, smiling sadly.

“And that’s rather sad, don’t you think? The amounts of blood you’ve seen, the variety of wounds someone can endure — no child should see something like that.”

This time, the sidekick didn’t say anything, they just stared at the villain’s desk rather angrily. It was frustrating, the villain was fully aware of that.

It must’ve been difficult for the sidekick to realise something was changing, that their role as a caretaker was shifting. It must’ve been difficult not to feel replaced.

“I know you don’t agree with my methods. Neither does my lover. But I can promise you to take care of them, whatever it takes. You don’t have to carry this burden anymore.”

“It’s not a burden,” the sidekick snapped and the villain realised that the sidekick could’ve become a villain easily. They were angry and didn’t know how to handle that anger. They were frustrated and didn’t know how to express it. If they had been around the wrong people at the wrong time, they would’ve made a perfect victim of manipulation.

The villain wasn’t going to let that happen.

“They talk about you all the time,” the villain said. “Brag about your grades and awards.”

The sidekick looked up, eyes wide.

“What?”

“Oh, yeah. You play the violin, don’t you? And you’ve been obsessed with this new video game, aren’t you?”

The sidekick nodded. Suddenly, they seemed a little embarrassed.

“But you also get into a lot of trouble at school. Can’t stand bullies?”

The sidekick shook their head.

“They couldn’t be more proud,” the villain said. For a second, all was quiet. The villain was reminded of a lost childhood, of tears and fear. Of feeling alone, of losing everything. “Listen. They love you more than anything and I cannot change that, even if I wanted to. And I don’t. I guess I am trying to say that there’s two people now who can protect them. Plus, they’re not completely helpless.”

Now, the sidekick smiled softly.

“They’re stupid, though.”

“Oh, totally,” the villain agreed.

“They need me.”

“You need them just as much. They can’t give you that when they’re exhausted and need stitches all the time.”

“…I guess you have a point.” The sidekick let out a big sigh and rubbed their face with their hands. And that was the moment the villain knew they had changed their mind. It wasn’t easy to let go of habits and the villain was fully aware that this wasn’t over, that the sidekick would try to slip back into their role every now and then.

But this was a great start. That kid needed more free time.

“I always do.” The villain grinned. “They’re in good hands, don’t worry. I’ll take over the bloody parts and the tears, you do the video games and laundry fights, alright?”

“Ugh. Fine. That doesn’t mean I like you,” the sidekick said. They stood up, false annoyance all over them.

“Mmm, don’t worry. That’ll kick in later. Now get lost, don’t you have a science project or something to take care of?”

“You’re so annoying.” They were heading for the door but the villain had one last sideswipe. They couldn’t help themselves.

“Oh, tell my henchman to do their work on time when you see them tomorrow, will you?” They tried not to smile when the sidekick turned around.

“Excuse me?” The villain stood up, walked around the table.

“Tomorrow at the club, I mean. I’ve heard you’re quite the wildcards together.”

“Hey, what do you mean, your henchman?”

“Just try not to devour each other in front of other people, I don’t want to hear anything about that.”

The villain gave them a smile and pushed them gently out of the room.

“Woah, wait, hey—”

“Bye bye.” They closed the door of their office with a cheery demeanour. They’d always been a sucker for a little drama.

pt. 2

#to carry home my little soldier #writing snippet #heroxvillain snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #an answer for an ask #request #sidekick #sidekick x henchman

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liveontelevision · 7 days

Note

Hi! im in love with your Lucifer fics. You newest one has me gripped and i cant wait for the next part.

You got me brainstorming more Lucifer fics ideas

I was thinking of one where the reader has been helping/supporting Charlie at the Hotel and is almost like a mother/parental figure to her, and when Lucifer arrives he acts cold/mean no matter how much she tries to be polite. But then he warm up to her after see how much the reader really cares about Charlie and then he finally realises hes in love with her.

♡

Thank you! I literally could write about him for hours (kinda have already) and I really liked this prompt, so here's just a lil' something for ya, anon ♡

Honey | Lucifer x Reader

No smut, just some cute fluff here-

♡♡♡

As soon as you arrived in Hell, your eyes were drawn to the drab-looking hotel just up the hill. And you flew to it like a moth to a TV screen. That being said, you've known Charlie and the other residents for as long as you've been dead. They've all seen you at your worst, having to be the unlucky few to explain your death. Although, Charlie's comfort really made the whole being dead thing much more palatable. During this time, while she's supported you, you've seen her through thick and thin as well. Pretty soon, you became an important part of her life, offering a more parental influence when she needed one. You didn't really die at an old age, but a lot went on in your lifetime to give you the maturity to comfort people that way and you were always happy to do it.

Considering your skill set, some of the residents went to you in the same fashion. A little task you took to, just to help out, was fixing up some articles of clothing for people. It was a great mindless task for you to do, considering Alastor wasn't a fan of having phones and TVs in the hotel. So you simply sat, humming a little tune as you fixed up something from Angel's wardrobe.

Your trance was broken, seeing a pair of slender legs in front of you. Following them up, you finally meet eyes with a nervous-looking Charlie. She's fidgeting with her fingers, still trying to find the courage to say whatever she came to you for.

"You need something, hun? You can talk to me, c'mere." With a sweet voice, you patted the cushion on the couch next to you and kept on working. She let out a heavy breath you didn't realize she was holding.

"Soooo... my dad is coming to visit and I - uh.." she still struggled to find her words. Considering you've barely been outside the hotel, you really didn't question how big of a deal Lucifer was. But to see Charlie getting flustered about a little visit from her own father did make you feel uneasy.

"I guess - I don't know, I'm just nervous, is all! It's not that big a deal, I mean, he's my dad, but also.. he's... my dad..?" You nodded your head.

"Seems like a big deal. He's the king of Hell, so it makes sense that you're nervous. Can I help with anything?" Acknowledging her feelings and making sure to keep your tone smooth, you finally set aside the mini skirt you were fixing up to face her.

"Oh! Um - I was wondering if you could bake something for everyone! Niffty's making cookies, but I think dad might enjoy something a little more.." You both thought back on the disturbing display of desserts Niffty had made for everyone in the past, it sent a chill down your spine. You nodded your head fast, taking a hold of her hands.

“Yeah, I'd love to! I'll make sure it's something your dad would like, too! How's that sound?" You absolutely loved to bake, and doing it for other people always made it even better. There was some pressure on you, considering who you were catering to, but remembering that this is for Charlie, kept any nerves at bay. Charlie, who just happened to be shedding a tear or two of relief, gave you a hug that would've snapped you in two if it had gone on any longer. You were used to those at this point.

The day went by fast, Charlie preparing and stressing over little decisions for her dad's visit. You got the OK to bake an apple pie. A specialty you would make when you were alive, you went all out. You'd always make the dough from scratch, soak the apples in a homemade cinnamon butter, and somehow managed to spiffy it up to a commercial extent. You were batting off Pentious and Niffy as best you could until he arrived.

You saw a side of Charlie during that visit that you haven't really seen before. She was nervous, sure, but it was clear she felt so defeated. Each little quip on sinners being hopeless or how Charlie shouldn't even bother in this "whole redemption deal" made you understand her paranoia more and more.

As Charlie introduced each of the staff and residents, Lucifer got distracted by the still steaming pie sitting on the table in front of everyone. He definitely wasn't the only one whose mouth was watering just by staring at it, but he was the one who bit the bullet, taking the first piece.

"And this is -" a loud hum of satisfaction interrupted Charlie's introduction to Sir Pentious, who looked deflated at the change in topic.

"Charlie! Good golly - This is great!" With another bite and hum, you watched his eyes flutter shut for a moment. A little boost of confidence immediately making you giddy.

"Oh! Well, that's good! Because this is our other guest! She made it herself -" Charlie took a hold of your shoulders and dragged you to face Lucifer. You could feel the nervous tremble coming from her hands. You looked up at her for a moment and smiled, placing a hand over top of hers. It really did seem to calm her nerves. And for some reason, he didn't seem to like that.

"Well - I'll eat anything with apples since they're obviously my favorite. It’s not that special." He tossed the half-finished plate back onto the table and wiped his hands clean. He ignored you.

"U-Uhm.. yeah, that's - that's everyone, I guess!" Charlie stammered, not expecting him to turn such a cold shoulder to you. He spent his time examining you. Considering he didn't even care enough to learn your name at that moment, he sure was taking his time looking you up and down.

"Well then!" He clasped his hands together after finally tearing his eyes off you. "How about a little tour?" He suggested, clearly not invested in the other sinners now. Charlie looked down at you and you nodded, starting to clean up some little things around you. It was a nervous habit you had, but it helped to keep your hands busy and your mind off the insulting interaction you just had to endure.

Charlie took Vaggie's hand and went on to give the tour. Once they were out of sight around the corner, you slumped your shoulders letting out a groan.

"Short king's givin' you the cold shoulder, huh?" Angel leaned on the back of the couch, crossing one leg over the other.

"Right? Okay, glad I'm not the only one who noticed that. Is something wrong with the pie..?" Looking over to Sir Pentious, who was licking the already empty pie tin clean, he quickly shook his head.

"Maybe's got a thing for ya." Angel teased, jabbing you with his elbow. You rolled your eyes, finally taking the pie tin from Pentious.

"He didn't even get my name, I'm sure that's not it. Whatever.. " you grumbled, taking any dishes you could to the kitchen to keep your mind from exploring that option.

The extermination day battle was here. You followed the armies who attacked the hoards of exorcists when they finally arrived. As the battle went on, you hated to admit it, you found yourself in awe watching Lucifer kick Adam's ass. The sight of his wings and the little V thing - and obviously his immense power, somehow managed to make you blush as you were attacking angels. Definitely a new sensation for you, with the bloodlust muddling your other senses, but it was easy to forget about it once the new hotel was renovated and everyone was finally settled in.

As everything went back to normal, you went back to helping Charlie with anything you could, drinking at the bar with everyone and generally things went back to the way they were. There was only one difference. Lucifer made the decision to stay at the hotel. It was commendable for sure, his change of heart to support Charlie through this change, but it only left you feeling conscious about everything you'd do when he was around. The underlying crush didn't help much. Or Angel's teasing about said crush.

You really did try, when you'd pass him the hallway, you'd always send him your most sincere smile. Or when you spotted him reading or working on anything, you'd try and spark any kind of conversation or ask if he needed help. He never needed help. He was always too busy to chat. You honestly couldn't remember a time he looked you in the eyes before. You bit your tongue. No need to worry Charlie, or anyone really, about some feud you possibly made up in your mind.

It was especially important to you to not stress Charlie right now. Starting the hotel back up was a big task alone, but the loss of Sir Pentious weighed on everyone. And Charlie took full blame for it. A late night, where she most likely stayed up to try and find any kind of hope for redemption, any speck of proof to bring sinners in, she found herself burnt out. Approaching the memorial for Pentious, you stood beside Charlie. You found her visiting it every now and then, and when you did, you knew she needed a check in. And you were right. Without a word, Charlie suddenly clung to you. She went on about how it was all her fault. How he was gone because of her. How nothing seems to be working and she's terrified that it's all for nothing.

It took a while for her to calm down, but you would never leave her like this. By now, the two of you had fallen to the ground, sitting on your knees.

"Charlie, you are doing your absolute best. It's okay to cry, you know that. Think of everything you've done for everyone else, I mean - Pen would've never sacrificed himself if it wasn't for his friends." You brushed a tear from her still wet and puffy eyes. "You did that. You gave him something worth dying for." It was a hard truth, but you hoped it was enough for her. She's done more for you than she'd ever know, and you'd do anything to give it back. You didn't realize, but before approaching Charlie, Lucifer was pacing a nearby corridor, battling the decision to go up to her himself. He hadn't said much to her since extermination day, and he had always been nervous about saying something wrong, making things worse. Before he had the chance to muster up the courage, you had swooped in. It confused him. He should've been jealous or hurt, that he wasn't able to calm her down himself. That you beat him to the punch. But he didn't really feel that way, no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise. Was it admiration? Sitting in the shadows until he assured Charlie was taken care of, he went back up to his workshop, flustered for a number of reasons.

There was one moment, where things started to look good. It was a regular night at the bar, you, Angel and Husk had gotten on the topic of your lives, looking at the positives which was a rarity. Charlie and Lucifer were nearby, Charlie enthralled in the discussions of what Earth was like.

"My homelife? It wasn't anything fancy, but.. um.. - oh I had a farm, actually! I ran it with my parents, it was.. nice." You hold onto your arms, a bittersweet smile on your face. With a light bulb going off in Charlie's head, she nudged you with her elbow.

"You didn't happen to have any birds or chickens or ducks - did you?" She hummed. She noticed the wedge between you and her dad, and it hurt her just as much as it hurt you. She's little miss "everyone should get along", of course, this hurt her. You didn't notice, but Lucifer peaked up at you for a split second before distracting himself by swaying the drink in his glass.

"Oh..? Oh! Yeah! Yes, actually! We raised a few ducklings that a neighbor gave us - we got them as eggs, so we got to see them grow up and everything!" Going on, telling a story about how you snuck one into your room to keep it as a pet, only to be scolded for it. You had the whole group in the palm of your hand. Including Lucifer. You met his eyes for just a moment, the twinkle in them immediately drawing you in. With a quick smile, he became flustered. He scoffed, pushing himself away from the bar and leaving. As much as that should've infuriated you, seeing those eyes and the growing redness across the apple of his cheeks felt like a win.

Since the hotel was newer, and word hadn't gotten out about Pentious's redemption yet, it was still vacant beside you, Angel, and occasionally Cherry Bomb. That gave the whole group a lot of time to enjoy the large space in the meantime.

Certain nights, Alastor would play the large, golden, piano that Lucifer had so generously created. This led to Charlie singing along to whatever he was playing, of course, and when Lucifer was in a good mood - or drunk - he would even pitch in. He'd sit atop the piano, his legs crossed, as he hiked the matching golden fiddle to his shoulder and played along. It was truly a sight to see. His skills were unmatched, but it still seemed to melt into the rest of the contributions. It was as if he invented the damn thing (He did).

This sort of became a tradition, when everyone was in a good mood and Alastor wasn't getting on Lucifer's nerves too much, everyone would join in, singing and dancing. It was rare, but Damn was it fun when it did happen. One of these nights, Alastor started off with a song that you knew, and had actually introduced to Charlie. She gasped as soon as she recognized the tune, pulling you close by both your hands to sing along. You had as good of a voice as anyone did, in a musical rendition of Hell, but you mainly stuck to harmonizing little things with Charlie. Swinging around with each other, until you were dizzy and laughing, you noticed that the room seemed a little empty.

Lucifer was seated where he usually was, on his phone. His fiddle was placed carefully at his side, and he was scrolling through his goddamn phone.

"Don't feel like joining us, Your Highness?" You kept to titles since it was obvious he wasn't warmed up to you just yet. Even after living with you for a month or so.

"Mm. Don't know the song. It's not my cup of tea, just can't seem to get into it." He says bluntly, never looking up to you.

“Oh, come on! Just play along, it’s just for fun!” You slurred your words a bit, whatever you had been sipping throughout the night causing, what you would call, an outburst.

“Hm! Well, I’m not exactly here for your entertainment, am I? God forbid a sinner doesn't have fun in their eternal punishment.” The room went silent. You felt so defeated. You've been trying since the day you met him to try and at least get on good terms with him, but it seemed like he would even prefer a night with Alastor over you. Things like this never bugged you much, you tried so hard to not let it bug you, but when Charlie looked over to you, with those worried eyes, it was hard to keep back the bottled-up disappointment.

With a little sniffle and a quick wipe of your eyes with your sleeve, you start heading back up the newly decorated grand staircase, without a word to anyone.

"Heyyy - Dad..! I think you maybe.. might've... I don't know - hurt her feelings..? Would you wanna - " Charlie carefully approached her father, who immediately lit up and placed his device down when she spoke. "Could you talk to her? Maybe just check up on her..?" She was speaking barely above a whisper.

“You have to apologize. Um.. sir.” Vaggie finally blurted out. His smile was nervous, his eye twitching a bit at the concept. Taking in a deep breath, he rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a sad little laugh.

"Well, uh.. I don't know, Kiddo, maybe she's just tired." He muttered, obviously hesitant at the idea.

"Sounds like the king can't handle a little damsel in distress to me. Would you like me to comfort her, my dear?" Alastor was quick to chime in from the piano bench, offering a sympathetic smile to Charlie. Why did the concept of that make Lucifer’s blood boil?

"Oh fuck you, bambi, I can handle it." With a quick hop off of the piano top, he almost stormed up the stairs to find you. Definitely not what Charlie was hoping to motivate him, but she wasn't an idiot. She knew Alastor had his reasoning for that. She mouthed a little thank you to him, once Lucifer turned his back.

You were ecstatic to learn that Charlie worked an extensive library into the hotel. Walking into its large double doors, you almost struggled to see the back of the room with how full it was. You had a little corner you claimed as your own, leaving one of your blankets draped on the little loveseat there, and setting aside a pile of books you were still working through. It was a great place to calm yourself down after what had just happened.

Hearing heels click against the tile, you wrapped yourself tighter in your blanket as you pulled your legs up to your chest.

"I'm fine Charlie, it's fine.. I just need a second, go back to the lobby." You shooed off the figure with one hand, wiping your face with the other.

"Ahha- Nope! Try again -" with a nervous chuckle, Lucifer greeted you with an awkward wave. Interrupting the silence by clearing his throat, he gestured to the seat next to you. With a quick nod, finally snapping out of your surprised state, you shifted your position to sit beside him. It wasn't exactly a two-person couch. Not for two people who might hate each other, at least. I mean it was a loveseat. He struggled to keep his distance, leaving your legs barely brushing together.

"Soooo.. you, uh- like.. reading..?" He asked after a long silence. You were mainly confused by his words, but simply nodded in response.

“Yeah it's - I-I love it in here.. There wasn’t anything like this on Earth, so this is nice." You managed to speak out, between sniffles. He agreed with a little hum, fidgeting with the ring on his finger.

“Glad you like it. It's uhh - just happens to be my personal collection.” He puffed out his chest, looking at his clawed nails with a little smirk on his face. He had no idea why he thought that would help, but it actually did a bit. when he looked your direction, you were slack-jawed in awe. The sight made him turn a bit red in the cheeks, quickly looking away, he patted the top of his legs to fill the silence.

“That's really cool! I guess it makes sense - considering you're older than the dawn of time- but, still. Thank you, I suppose. For letting me - I mean - us use it.” You rambled on for a moment your words became quieter the more you gushed.

“Is that supposed to be an insult?” He asked between laughter. You made him laugh. You hoped he didn't see the sparkle in your eyes at the notion. You stalled, lost in thought, before quickly shaking your head.

The two of you sat there for a moment, the awkward silence sitting a little more comfortably than before. Finally, Lucifer let out a sigh of defeat.

"It’s my fault, right?" He asked, already knowing the answer.

"Oh, uh.. I guess so, but.. I mean, I'm kind of drunk so it might be something with that - but I'm fine, I swear." You waved your hands in an attempt to soothe the serious discussion. But Lucifer knew better than anyone what someone holding their true intentions back looks like.

"You're really good for Charlie. I.. I wish I could take care of her. Like you do." He admitted. It surprised you for a moment. Was that why he's been so cold to you? Was there some form of jealousy in there? Or was he really concerned that you would replace him in some fashion?

"C'mon, you're just saying that to make me feel better. I saw you on extermination day, none of this would even be here without that little pep talk, you’ve done more for her than you know, I think. Charlie.. she loves you." The words made him perk up a little. Maybe even a king needs reassurance sometimes.

"Oh- Um.. I guess she does, huh..?" You could hear his smile. The two of you sat in silence for a moment. You didn't even realize you had the smallest smile on your own face. But he did. With another nervous laugh, he hesitates before planting a hand on your leg, just above your knee. No time like the present, you suppose.

"I’m sorry. I really am. For.. everything. You're actually amazing. I-I mean it.." Without a response from you yet, he lets his gentle touch linger a moment longer. You leaned in towards him, the smile on your face turning sly.

"Yeah? You think so? I almost thought you hated me." You were teasing him. He's been so cold to you this whole time, you just had to take advantage of the moment. He turns a bit red, covering his mouth with his free hand as he clears his throat into his fist.

"Of course I don't.." He muttered.

"Soo, would you say you like me?" You drew out your words, walking your fingers up his arm.

"W-What? How - " He clamped his hand over his mouth before desperately trying to rationalize his thoughts, " Of course I do! I just said you're great with Charlie and I -ahh.. I love Charlie, so I like - " He coughs up his words, " - I liked your pie, that you made! And you have a good voice, too, and your little duck story was cute, so - " God bless this man's tendency to overshare when he's nervous. The alcohol definitely gave you the little boost of confidence you needed to question him like this, but you would be lying if you said you didn't notice his reactions to you whenever you weren't paying attention. Or whenever he thought you weren't paying attention. It finally dawned on you that some of those glares might have had some other motivations.

You knew when to reel it in, but considering his hand was still on your leg, he moved it up a bit even, you assumed he was okay with the teasing. Maybe even enjoying it. Delicately drawing your fingers across his jaw, to his chin, you pulled his gaze to meet yours. You could feel his hand tense at every little touch.

"You have really nice eyes, Luci-" He audibly gulped, tugging at his bowtie. "You’ve been avoiding looking at me for months.. I wish you'd look at me more." You almost pouted, your fingers still lingering under his chin. With the slightest movement, he followed your hand towards your face. He took his hand off your thigh for a moment, only for you to take a hold of it and place it on your back. He was the one who pulled you closer at this point.

“Y-you can't just say things like that.. it’s embarrassing..” He muttered, trying his best to not close the gap between your bodies.

“Embarrassing? I’m not embarrassed, your highness. Are you? Do I.. make you nervous? Hmm?” You placed your hands just above his knees, leaning closer through your chest. Sucking in his lips, he did his best to stay silent, knowing he’d dig his own grave no matter how he answered.

“I just think you’re so pretty, Luci, I can't help myself.” Before he could properly react, you leaned in close enough for him to feel your breath against his ear. Damn, what did you drink? You could feel his hand on your back clenching, either to bring you closer or just out of sheer nerves. With a little hum against his ear, he let out the quietest whimper. It apparently took both of you by surprise, you leaned back to get a look at his face with wide eyes. Meeting his eyes this time sent you both into a blushing, nervous state.

With a deep breath, you cupped his face after brushing some of his golden locks back into place, then gave him the lightest kiss on his lips. You didn't even linger long enough for him to return it, and he was clearly distraught by it. You unwrapped yourself from your blanket, giving a dumbstruck Lucifer another quick peck on his forehead, before standing.

“I’m going back downstairs. Take your time, Hun!” You called out so sweetly as if you hadn't just left him a heated mess.

Finally returning to the lobby, you walked with your chest puffed out, beckoning for another drink from Husk.

"Did.. did Dad check in on you? Are you okay?" Charlie carefully approached you, and was immediately disarmed by your grin.

"Yup! I feel much better now. He apologized and we had a little.. Discussion. Thanks, hun." You said sweetly, taking a sip of the drink Husk slid into your hand. Angel gave you a dirty glare, and after meeting his eyes you quickly looked away.

"Well great! Where is he? Maybe we can pick back up where we left off!" Charlie clasped her hands together enthusiastically.

"Here! I-I'm here! Great idea, honey, let's keep playing!" He tripped over himself, rushing into the room and hoping nobody saw him re-fastening his tie. Sending him another quick smile, his face clearly hadn't cooled from the past events. He nearly dropped his fiddle, but as soon as he prepared he picked up the same song that was left unfinished moments before.

♡♡♡

I wanted to get through some asks, but I'm still working on Suffer, no worries, my friends

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feeder86 · 8 months

Text

Wish Upon a Weight Gain

“Okay, let’s make this more interesting,” smiled the party girl, eyeing the assortment of scruffy notes and coins in the middle of the table.

“I’m out! I haven’t got any more cash on me, anyway” laughed Dirk, getting up to grab another beer from the noisy kitchen and abandoning his cards.

“I’m out too,” Danielle sighed, throwing her cards down on the table in resignation.

“What do you mean by… interesting?” Matty asked, intrigued. Having been abandoned by his roommate, Josh, he’d followed his crush, Danielle, to the corner of the room, playing poker with a couple of other people he’d never even met before. He’d lost the last seven rounds, waiting for an opportunity like this; feigning ignorance of the game and pretending to be a lot more drunk than he actually was.

The girl turned to him and smiled, seeing that everyone else had given up. “Bet me something more extreme… Say, five years of your life?”

Matty hooted in laughter. He might have known from her alternative style that Heather was into some freaky voodoo shit. However, she seemed entirely convinced of herself as she made this as a suggestion for Matty’s next bet. He looked around for someone else to laugh with about the idea; instead seeing that they were now entirely alone at the table.

“Maybe,” Matty smirked with a shrug. “It’s all bullshit anyway. But what do I get in return?”

“A wish,” Heather replied, pulling out a tiny birthday cake sized candle and holding it between her finger and thumb.

“I’d rather the cash,” Matty grumbled, feeling that he had wasted the opportunity to fleece this weird girl earlier.

“Alright,” Heather smiled brightly, placing a further fifty bucks down on the table, then holding out her hand to shake on it.

“You’re on!” Matty cheered, reaching his hand in quickly and shaking firmly before she could come to her senses. Then he pulled his hand away and deliberately knocked over a leftover bottle of beer, pretending not to even notice in his drunken state. “Show me what you’ve got then,” he insisted, letting his eyes roll a little in his head.

Heather sat up straight and spread her cards: Four of a kind.

“Ah… shit!” Matty groaned, pretending to squint to even see the cards. “You got me!”

Heather beamed, beginning to sweep the cash with her arm until Matty’s steady hand reached in and stopped her. Then, with a satisfied smirk, he let his own cards drop with a strange authority onto the table: a straight flush. “Actually, I think that’s my cash!” he laughed, suddenly a lot more sobre.

Heather immediately picked up the cards and searched through the rest of the deck. Whatever method she had been using to win those last few rounds, Matty’s demeanor had clearly made her too complacent to see him as an actual challenge. “That’s not possible!” she stuttered, before seeming to sigh and realise that she had indeed made some sort of error in her own method.

Heather stood up, more frustrated than angry, regarding Matty with contempt as he sang happily to himself, stuffing his new cash into his pockets.

“Fine! Whatever!” she growled in resignation. “Make your wish then,” she snapped, pulling out a lighter and igniting the tiny candle.

Matty scoffed and turned to walk away.

“I’ve lit the candle now, buddy. You’ve got to make a wish,” Heather warned him. “It was part of the bet.”

Still beaming with his own good fortune, Matty decided to humour the strange girl. “What should I wish for?” he asked with a little merry flirtation.

“Whatever your simple little mind wants,” Heather replied impatiently. “Why don’t you start with her?” she suggested, nodding her head over at Danielle. “You’ve been checking her out all night.”

“I don’t need a wish to get girls,” Matty laughed.

“She’s not interested in you, and you know it,” Heather shot back spitefully. “But… make the wish and she’s all yours,” she explained, holding the small candle close to Matty’s face and waiting for him to blow it out.

Despite his good looks, Matty knew that he actually wasn’t getting anywhere with Danielle, just like Heather had noticed. She didn’t seem to be interested in his muscular physique and sporting prowess like the other girls. Not being able to scratch the itch he had for her was slowly killing him. He rolled his eyes in acceptance, then filled his lungs to blow out the candle.

At that moment, the roaring voice of Matty’s roommate, Josh, sang out from the kitchen as he dared one of the other guys to chug a jug of beer right to the very end.

The candle was extinguished.

With that, Heather collected her things and disappeared out of the house without a second glance.

As for the rest of that night, Matty couldn’t remember much. With his pockets full of cash, he drank beer late into the night and awoke the next morning in his dorm room with a particularly fuzzy head. His roommate, Josh, was already out for his run and Matty rolled over, feeling nothing but sorry for himself for the state that he was in.

“Morning, sleepy head!” Josh teased as he strolled back in, drenched in a sweat that made his sleeveless shirt stick to his powerful chest. He pulled it off and threw it over to Matty, hitting him straight in the face.

Matty recoiled and pushed the sweaty shirt off his bed using as little of his hand as possible. “Ugh! That’s gross!” he lied, trying his best to conceal the man crush he had on his roommate. As usual he tried to avoid looking at the shirtless hunk in the middle of the room: a strapping 6 ‘6 twenty year old; muscular, broad and powerful in every conceivable way, yet with the prettiest face and deep, soulful eyes imaginable. His only option was to throw his duvet over his head and turn his back on him; genuinely feeling like this was the worst hangover of his life.

“Feeling rough, huh?” Josh asked in his deep, lightly mocking voice. “I’m not surprised. I’ve never seen anyone chug beers like you did last night!”

With his eyes closed, Matty allowed himself to just appreciate how much his head was banging. Josh’s assertion about the amount of beer he had consumed made complete sense.

“Did you come back here last night?” Matty asked from under his duvet. “Or did you get lucky?”

“Well, I probably would have got lucky, had I not had to put you to bed at three this morning,” he laughed.

Internally, Matty sighed. He hated getting so drunk that he couldn’t remember things. What if he had rambled about his crush on Danielle? Or worse, what if he had accidentally let Josh know that he had a thing for him as well? “I’m sorry, buddy,” he grumbled, uncovering his head from the duvet. “I don’t know why I let myself get so drunk. I didn’t mean to spoil your evening.”

Josh shrugged as he grabbed his dumbbells and began pumping. “It’s fine,” he smirked. “Your friend, Gemma, snuck into the bathroom to give me a blow job early on in the evening. That’s why I was missing for a little while.”

“Gemma?” Matty asked with surprise. “She a bit too…you know… for the likes of you.” he tried awkwarkly. However, it was completely true: Gemma was heavier than most of the guys on the football team and not the type of girl a guy like Josh would be expected to have fun with.

Still pumping his weights, Josh’s grin was shining through. “I’ve told you before, man. If you want a decent blow job, you can’t go wrong with a fatty. The more cake and hot dogs they can stuff down their throats, the better they are at giving head. I came, like, three times!”

Matty knew that no one else saw this side of Josh, apart from him. To everyone else, Josh was the outstandingly handsome football jock; with good manners and from a decent, successful New York family. But, in the privacy of their shared room, Josh could also tell Matty endless tales of his kinky exploits with girls; never failing to cash in on his good looks for a fun ride with women of all shapes and sizes. Perhaps that was the reason why Matty had started to be so attracted to him in a way that he never had for another guy before. Although, he couldn’t help but feel a little sympathy for the many girls who ended up on his kinky radar.

“Does that mean you’ll be seeing her again?” Josh asked with a slight pang of jealousy.

“I promised I’d take her out for some ice cream today,” Josh chuckled to himself. “Fat girls love ice cream! She’ll probably eat about ten of them, then I’ll bring her back here for an hour or so, about seven this evening.”

Matty nodded. That was his cue to be out of the room before seven that night. In which case, he needed to get himself feeling more human, and fast!

“Woah, what’s up with you?” the football coach frowned, seeing Matty’s time on the shuttle run two weeks later. “Is that the best you can do?”

An exhausted Matty bent over and leaned on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. He couldn’t believe that Coach wasn’t impressed by that. He’d never put so much effort into running before.

“We need to work on your fitness,” Coach stated without a hint of humour in his voice. “You need to spend less time partying and more time training,”

“Seriously?” Matty asked, perplexed. Usually, it was only Josh who could outrun him on the entire team. He opened his mouth to ask why he was being singled out like this, when he felt a hard thwack on his rear. ‘Perfect Josh’ had just finished his laps and was slowing down without even appearing to break a sweat.

“How was that, Coach?” Josh asked; his large hands on his powerful hips and strutting back over to them, already knowing that he’d bested every one of the other boys.

Not being known for his modesty, Josh was sure to taunt all of them as they made it back to the changing rooms, pulling his shirt off for no real reason than to show off his powerful body. Usually, Matty was all in with going along with it, but something didn’t quite feel right that night. He’d struggled more than usual with the training and his muscles were aching from the effort he had been putting in. He also sensed a strange feeling amongst the group of guys, as if they were judging him somehow; his skills questioned and his ability in doubt. After the shower, he felt the eyes of all of them on him and he dressed himself quietly in the corner as fast as he could. He’d packed some jeans for afterwards so that he could head straight out for a date with a girl he’d met in one of his new classes. He wriggled into them with surprising awkwardness. Asssuming that he was still slightly wet after the shower, he pulled at the waistband and tried again. Yet, still the jeans refused to button with their usual ease, and Matty found himself sucking in and grimacing until they at last closed. Not wanting to look down, he threw the t-shirt over his head and stuffed the rest of his things into his bag, heading straight out.

The date has been a flop. Matty wasn’t really in the mood and his conversation had been dull. The girl wasn’t his usual type, so he didn’t feel bad when they parted without so much as a kiss, yet he still headed back to his room feeling a little deflated. So lost in his own world, he hadn’t noticed Josh’s message to not come back early and he suddenly walked straight into the room, seeing his roommate Josh passionately having sex with the biggest girl he’d ever known the stud to show interest in.

Still in the moment, Josh glanced back in annoyance but didn’t stop thrusting with his powerful hips. However, the big girl, down on all fours, looked back in horror at the intrusion and it was then that Matty noticed the strange facial attire Josh had put on her face: a little round pig nose. At the same time, her mouth was smeared with what appeared to be chocolate sauce and there were many different empty packets and plates of food littered around the room.

Matty ripped his feet from the spot he had been frozen to and left as fast as he could, heading to the kitchen area and safety. He stayed there for a little while, trying to get the images he had seen out of his head. He knew that Josh got up to all sorts of kinky things when he wasn’t there, but seeing an example of it in real life was something entirely different. He wondered what the rest of the team would think if they knew Josh had a taste for women as big as that.

It was only ten minutes later when Matty heard their door open and saw a large girl slipping out; trotting off down the corridor as if worried she may bump into him after being caught out like that. Josh left the room moments later and strutted down the corridor to the kitchen, wiping his thick, luscious hair away from his sweaty brow. Dressed in only his underwear, it was obvious from the glistening skin on his muscular body that he had just returned from having sex. He smiled conspiratorially at Matty as he saw him in the kitchen and headed straight to the sink to fill a glas of water and drained two of them back to back. “Didn’t you get my message?” he finally asked.

Matty shook his head. “I forgot to check my phone,” he replied apologetically.

“No worries,” Josh shrugged, filling his glass once more. “What did you think?”

“Think of what?” Matty asked, suddenly feeling a little awkward.

“Of Emily, of course!” Josh laughed.

“Is that her name?” Matty mumbled. “She’s pretty… big,” he answered shyly.

Josh nodded slowly and made a noise of approval. “Almost 400lbs,” he grinned. “Well, possibly over that, after tonight. The room’s a mess. She ate like a real little piggy for me tonight, as you probably saw.”

“And that’s a good thing?” Matty asked next, trying to resist the urge to stare at the twitching in Josh’s crotch that he’d noticed in the corner or his eye when the handsome guy spoke about the size of his date.

Josh simply smiled and made the most casual of nods. “Trust me. Once you date a fatty, there’s no going back!” Despite everything, the man seemed genuinely pleased that Matty had walked in on them; as if he was secretly delighted to have a witness for his biggest conquest yet. He reached in the refrigerator and pulled out one his beers for Matty. “Here, have one of these and give me another five minutes to tidy up,” he insisted, already slowly strutting back to the room and giving Matty the best view of his large, muscular butt. “That piggy made a big mess tonight!”

Over the next few days, Matty noticed that many other items of his clothes were starting to fit him strangely. It wasn’t just his jeans that he was struggling to put on, but other pants and even a few of his more fitted underwear. It didn’t take a genius to work out that he’d put on a few pounds. He could feel it in his stomach and in the softening up of his butt. He’d bulked too hard a couple of summers ago and saw those old familiar puffy cheeks returning to his face. However, back then, he had been consuming upwards of six thousand calories in a day in an effort to pack on muscle for the team. However, right now, he hadn’t changed anything about his diet and already he had gained thirty pounds of what appeared to be pure fat all over his body.

His pecs had filled out more and the six pack he’d been so proud of had slowly slid away under the depths of a little round paunch that was bloating up each day. The fat was there in his neck and under his chin, jiggling in his thighs and filling up his tight glutes. He’d skipped training, horrified by the extra pounds on his own reflection in the mirror, and feigning illness in order to stay at home. He trained alone in the gym across the weekend, yet still managed to put on another five pounds by the following week.

“I need some help,” Matty finally admitted the next weekend as even his loosest t-shirts failed to conceal the strange tire of fat that was beginning to spread just below his belly button.

“What sort of help?” Josh asked distinterestedly, scrolling through his cell phone at the same time.

Matty couldn’t bring himself to say the words and so he decided to rip the bandaid off in one go, removing his t-shirt and standing there for Josh to see the entirety of his weight gain.

Josh was silent. Stunned. He gazed across, his mouth half-open. “What… the fuck..?” he finally muttered.

Matty didn’t reply but took a deep breath and simply prepared himself for whatever Josh was about to say to him. Nothing could be worse than what he had said to himself when he looked at his reflection in the mirror. He needed to hear it. It would motivate him to try and get a handle on his weight. It would push him harder on the treadmill and ensure he didn’t skip his crunches before bed each night.

“What the fuck happened to you?” Josh asked, standing up from his bed and gazing at Matty’s chubby torso. “You got… you got FAT!”

“I know…” Matty nodded shamefully. His hand immediately went to rub the top part of his distended stomach as if to comfort himself. “I don’t know how it happened!”

“How did I not notice this?” Josh asked, actually reaching out and grabbing at the soft love handle that was starting to flop over Matty’s tight waistband. “Is this why you’ve been wearing those big sweaters?”

Matty nodded. “I didn’t know what else to do!”

“What the fuck have you been eating, man?” Josh asked, perplexed.

“Only what I normally eat!” Matty answered him.

“I don’t think so!” Josh laughed at last. “You don’t put on this much fat by eating a regular diet. Trust me, I should know. Your ass is just…” he marvelled, reaching his big hand out to cup it.

“What do I do about it, though?” Matty questioned, turning to face Josh instead.

“Do about it?” Josh asked, as if he did not understand the question.

“How do I lose it?”

Josh looked puzzled for a moment. “Well, I suppose you stop skipping football training for a start, Fatass!” he teased. “Seriously, dude! What the fuck have you been eating?” he laughed, reaching his hand out again to grab at Matty’s lovehandle again.

Matty sighed and bent down to pick his t-shirt back up and slipped it over his torso once more. “I knew I shouldn’t have told you!” he grumbled in irritation. “I knew you’d just make fun!”

“Make fun? Me!” Josh smiled with false surprise at the acusation. “Really, Fatty, I thought you knew me better than that?”

One part of Matty wanted to cry, yet the other longed to just laugh at Josh’s comical face as he couldn’t help but find Matty’s sudden weight gain such an amusing turn of events. “You’re such a bad friend, you know that?” Matty spat teasingly at Josh.

“Oh, I really don’t think you should be the one throwing around insults right now, do you?” Josh chuckled back, stabbing Matty in his middle with his outstreched finger. Then he looked down at his cell phone, seeing he’d had a new message. “Gotta run,” he smiled, patting Matty’s butt one last time before slipping out of the door.

Matty played the waiting game over the next few days. He cut his caloiries as much as he could and worked out as hard as possible in the tiny shared room. Meanwhile, Josh showed no sign of offering advice or support. He merely looked across at Matty’s body with a strange, superior sense of satisfaction. Josh had always enjoyed teasing him and as the days went on, his name-calling only became more imaginative and even crude. Yet, he always said these things in a way that ensured Matty never really took any true offense to them; that humour of his always shielding him from being taken too seriously.

Unfortunately for Matty, nothing he did seemed to work. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror one morning and saw that even his nipples had started to become pointed. The fat that had begun to fill his stomach had become especially pronounced at the top of his new belly, rounding out the initial paunch he had developed into a full blown gut. It was disgusting! He’d been in serious trouble at training, not keeping up with any of the guys at all, and it came as no surprise that he hadn’t been selected for the team for the third week in a row.

“What are you doing?” Matty asked Josh as his nose caught the scent of the packaging his roommate was opening in the bed opposite him.

“What? Me?” Josh grinned. “I’m just enjoying a few delicious donuts before bed.” He took a big bite of one and moaned in appreciation, closing his eyes to appreciate the flavours on his tongue.

“You’re doing this on purpose!” Matty grumbled. “You know I can’t eat shit like that.”

“Who said anything about you eating my donuts?” Josh laughed, delighted that he was getting to his roommate. “But, all right then. If you insist, Fatboy. I’ll give you a donut.”

From across the room, a donut flew over to Matty’s bed and landed, right side up, on the sheets. “Don’t! They’re sticky!” Matty argued back, picking it up immediately and surveying the greasy damage. That sugar really did smell good. He stared down at the treat; his mouth already watering.

“Go on, Fatty. Take a bite!” Josh teased him.

“We both know I can’t. Coach will kill me,” Matty sighed back.

“Fuck him. Take a bite,” Josh repeated.

“None of my old pants even fit me!” Matty argued in response.

“We’ll get you new ones. Just take a bite.

His resistance ebbing away, Matty took a small bite and closed his eyes to enjoy the taste of his first sugary treat in weeks.

“Mmm! Tastes good, doesn’t it, Fatty?” Josh chirped from across the room. Finish it off.”

Matty knew he was falling for whatever twisted mockery Josh was conducting on him. The guys in the changing rooms would probably hear all about it in the morning, but, at that moment, he didn’t care. He closed his eyes and took another large bite.

“FUCK!” Josh marvelled from his bed, seemingly caught off guard by the size of the bite Matty had taken. He watched as his roommate finished the donut by pushing the last of it into his greedy mouth.

Plop. Another donut expertly landed on Matty’s bed and he stared back in surprise.

“Come on, Fatty. Don’t stop there. You know you want it. You’ve already fucked up your diet plan today. What’s one more?”

Accepting the logic of that, Matty shrugged. Why not just have another? This time, he took it in two bites and opened his eyes as the large muscular bulk of Josh came to sit down on the edge of his bed. In his hands sat the remainder of the donuts he had bought.

“Next,” Josh grinned, holding out another donut. There was an odd twinkle in his eye and a devilish excitement on his face that Matty hadn’t seen since he’d heard Josh talking about the largest girl he had ever fucked.

Before Matty knew anything else, he saw the donut heading towards his mouth and he reached a hand out to hold it just after it arrived, pressing at his lips. There was something about this situation. This didn’t seem like something normal roommates got up to.

“Let me hold it for you,” Josh insisted as the fourth donut made its way to Matty’s lips.

Matty opened his mouth and allowed Josh to push the sugary treat inside, then chewed. As the final half was pushed in, Matty felt Josh’s fingers crossing into his mouth, stuffing it in as deep as he could without choking him.

“How was that?” Josh asked, as Matty swallowed the last of it down; all donuts now consumed, and a complemplative silence existing within the room.

“Good,” Matty nodded, feeling the tension between them both.

“You did well,” Josh nodded, staring without embarrassment straight into Matty’s eyes.

“Thank you,” Matty responded, unsure what else to say. Then he watched as the large football player got up and walked back to his own bed; all of his jokey bravado now gone.

The light switched off.

Nothing that Matty had done to control his weight appeared to be working. And so, as Josh began to make a habit of tempting him with little treats, Matty put up little resistance. His waistline grew further and those small hurdles that he had worried about were being overcome. His parents had been over to visit him one weekend and were surprised, alarmed and a little disgusted to see how much weight their boy had gained. Yet, the world had not ended. Matty had also been officially kicked off the football team for his lack of fitness, and the gossip around campus about how much weight he had gained had well and truly made its way into each and every dark corner. It was official. Matty was the fat guy now.

Despite everything that had happened to him over the last few months, there was only one thing that Matty couldn’t really explain, and that was his friendship with Josh. As Matty began to relax more into his new body shape, Josh seemed to become more tightly wound, like a spring. He must have spent much of his spare cash on beers and treats to tempt Matty with in the evenings, and the guy’s lovelife had become strangely more extreme. It was as if the jock was looking for the next big high. Matty noticed that the handsome stud no longer looked twice at the pretty, slim girls who flocked to flirt with him, seeking out only the most obese women in the city. He became known for it, with people on the campus finding it difficult to comprehend. Josh was almost as much of a freak as he was. But the fact that Josh had given up caring about what people thought of him made it all the easier for Matty to do the same. He was fat now. So what?

Matty often felt that Josh practised his demeanor on these fat women with him. There was a flirtation in his voice as he encouraged Matty to overeat and whenever he came back shirtless from the shower, Matty had the odd sensation that his fleshier parts were being checked out by the beautiful man.

“I know you,” Matty pointed, seeing the girl he had beaten at Poker a few months’ earlier. “I’ve not seen you at one of these parties in ages.”

Heather looked at Matty in confusion until recognition finally dawned on her face. “Is this seriously what you wished for?” she asked, poking her finger into Matty’s now quite extensive pot belly. “What a weird one!”

Matty had forgotten all about the wish he had supposedly been granted and he sat himself down at the table chuckling in recollection. “What a load of crap that was!” he sighed. “I’ve not even seen Danielle in weeks. She never was interested in me. And she certainly isn’t now.”

“It sounds like you fucked up your wish then,” Heather shot back, shuffling her cards and looking around, hoping that some curious partygoers would show an interest in joining her. “You must have lost your concentration and started thinking about something else.”

At that moment, Heather looked up and saw Josh chatting flirtatiously with an enormously obese girl he’d invited along that night; his broad back and muscular butt turned to them both, yet his large hand rubbed the girl’s enormous, blubbery rear.

“Oh!” she laughed, almost sympathetically. “You were thinking about him! Your roommate!” she pointed at Josh. “The dumb chubby chaser!”

“No I wasn’t!” Matty shot back indignantly. He had never uttered a word to anyone about his crush on Josh. No one.

“Yes you were!” Heather smirked. “You’re getting fat and as a result, little by little, he’s falling in love with you.” She eyed Josh carefully, as if peering into his very soul. “He’s a kinky bastard though. I hope you’ll be able to keep up with him!”

Matty didn’t believe a word of it, but the thought stunned him into silence nonetheless.

“I was so pissed at you that night you beat me at Poker. I’ve not lost a game since. Wanna play again? I’ll go easier on you to start with…”

“No, thanks,” Matty smirked, remembering how savagely Heather had won the early few games last time.

“Suit yourself,” Heather shrugged. “Let me do you a favour then,” she winked, before putting her fingers to her lips and whistling incredibly loudly to Josh. “Oi, Cutie. Come join us!”

Josh, never one to resist a cheeky callover, kissed the large girl on her cheek and then slid over to the table to see why he was wanted.

“What have you done to my friend here?” Heather asked accusingly. “Last time I saw him he was probably a hundred pounds lighter than this.”

Josh raised his eyebrows. “And that’s my fault?” he laughed, brushing his beautiful, thick hair off his face with a little nervousness in his voice.

“Are you saying you didn’t encourage him, even in the slightest?” Heather teased, seeming to know all.

“Well, I mean… I may have just… you know… a little,” he mumbled.

“Aw, aren’t you romantic?” Heather joked, rolling her eyes. “Listen, Romeo, dump your girl over there. She’s already texting the husband she’s been hiding from you,” she pointed over at the big lady behind them, quietly typing on her cell phone. “And go and take this fat boy out for some pizzas instead. I know you’ll like that. At the moment, he’s scaring off my customers!”

Josh got up from the table and slid behind his large girl without her noticing, clearly taking a quick peek at the message she was typing. Within seconds they were arguing. Had Heather been spot on with her assumption? Then, just like that, the enormous girl stormed out of the party.

“That’s your cue,” Heather nodded over to Matty. “Like I said, I hope you can handle him!”

Perplexed, Matty got up and walked over to Josh, who seemed annoyed and disappointed. “Want to get out of here?” he asked the handsome guy.

A few minutes later, and after many complaints from Josh about how much he had been strung along, he finally seemed to relax a little as the pair of them walked back through the middle of town. “So, who was that girl you were with? I’ve not seen her around here before. Is she someone you’re interested in?”

Matty scoffed at the idea. “Heather? No way!” he laughed. “She’s way too creepy for a start and, well, look at me. I’m too fat for a girl like that now. Although, I do think she might be a little bit psychic,” he conceded.

“Oh, come on. You don’t believe in all that crap, do you?” Josh chuckled.

Matty didn’t answer straight away, considering everything he had been told by Heather that evening. If anything she’d said was true, then it would explain absolutely everything that had been happening to him over the last few months. “So, are you taking me for some pizzzas then?” he asked to swiftly change the subject. “This new beer gut of mine needs some grub!”

Josh had laughed, but altered their course at the end of the next block, taking Matty to the pizzaria that often delivered to people on the campus. He strolled in first and ordered extra cheese on each of the three pizzas he’d requested, then sat down by a greasy table next to his roommate who tried to hand over some cash to pay for his share of the food. Josh refused. It was his treat.

When the food arrived, Josh claimed he was no longer hungry and still a little too frustrated by what had happened with his girl to even think about eating. Matty simply shrugged and began eating from the first pizza box, letting Josh ramble on about how many girls had messed him around in the last few months. Before he knew it, he was slipping the empty pizza box down underneath the others and starting on the next one. He didn’t know where his enormous appetite had come from, but ever since he had started gaining weight, he never seemed to get full like he used to. It was a Saturday night, he wasn’t counting calories.

“Are you serious?” Josh smirked, halting his rambling to watch as Matty slipped yet another empty box to the bottom and opened the third and final pizza. “You’re still hungry?” he asked, flabbergasted, despite the wicked twinkle in his eyes.

Matty shrugged. He didn’t think he was hungry, but he certainly wasn’t full either. He followed Josh’s gaze down to his torso, spotting that his shirt was straining against the ever increasing size of his stomach, loaded with everything he had already eaten. “Shit!” he chuckled to himself, seeing that his skin was showing between the straining buttons. But, with his hand already loaded with the next slice of pizza, he began eating it anyway, deciding that he should make this his last.

“I bet you can’t finish that whole pizza as well!” Josh stated daringly.

Matty chuckled at Josh’s naivety. “Oh, trust me, buddy. I could easily finish all this!” he countered, taking an extra big bite, as if to demonstrate.

“Five bucks says you can’t,” Josh stated next, reaching into his pocket to hold up a scrunched note.

“You’re on!” Matty smiled, knowing it would be the easiest income of his life. He doubled up his slices and, without even really thinking about it, consumed the entire third pizza in mere minutes, slapping his victorious hand down on the table to collect his winnings. “What’s for dessert?” he quipped.

The two boys walked back slowly to the dorms, partly because of how bloated Matty’s stomach was, although he didn’t really feel like he had eaten as much as he actually had done. “I’ve never seen anyone eat three whole pizzas like that,” Josh kept on saying, making Matty feel like he was becoming almost reacquainted with his previous masculine prowess, despite the fact that his pecs had slid into drooping, pointed nipples, resting on a shelf of stomach fat. “I’ve got some ice cream in the freezer if you want some of that when we get back?” he asked with surprising enthusiasm.

“Sure,” Matty nodded, quite taken by all the attention he was getting from Josh at that moment. So much so, that he took off his shirt the moment they made it back and stared into the hidden mirror within the closet door. He’d never seen his gut look bigger than this, nor his love handles so rounded and juicy.

“Look at you!” Josh cried in awe. “You’re getting huge! Even your arms are starting to go,” he noted, fluttering the fat at the back of Matty’s arms and watching the fresh lard flutter and rippled out, even onto the blubber that was spreading across his shoulder blades.

Matty turned in the mirror to get a look at his ass. Despite the sweat pants and elasticated waistbands, there had been no hiding the sheer width that had been developing back there. He thought back to his fine, pert little glutes of a few months earlier, realising that they had now swollen and grown to almost twice their size; squishy, with pure fat that had even spread down into his thighs and made them rub together when he walked.

As Matty gazed and studied himself in the mirror, he didn’t notice Josh slipping out to get the ice cream he had promised and returning to the room, slipping his own shirt off at the same time. “I didn’t think it was a full tub!” Matty laughed when the jock ripped open the lid.

“That’s not a problem, is it?” Josh chuckled back, digging the huge spoon in and holding the first load ready for Matty to eat.

Matty opened his mouth without even attempting to hold the spoon himself. It was like receiving his medicine; something that would make him so much better. Then, after a few more spoons, Josh slipped down onto his bed, making room for Matty to lie back with him against the headboard and eat some more from him. Matty would have followed him anywhere: that strapping chest and the scent of all his exposed skin now that he was shirtless too.

“Man, you eat like an absolute pig!” Josh laughed at how easily Matty was able to get the first half of the tub down.

Matty laughed as well, very used to the names Josh used to describe him. “You should put that little pig snout of yours on me,” he joked.

“You know about that?” Josh chuckled, without a hint of embarrassment. “I’ve got loads of kinky shit like that!” he smiled, delighted with himself. “But, the pig snout is definitely one of my favourites…” he teased, reaching into his bedside drawer and pulling it out. He settled the ice cream carton down for a second and pulled the string over Matty’s face. Then, settling the snout over Matty’s nose, he looked on in appreciation and sighed with pleasure. “Much better!” he grinned. “Now you’re a proper pig!”

Matty had noticed Josh’s big, musular arm slip over his shoulder as he settled back into spoon feeding him now; his fingers gently caressing the new blubbery bulk at the tops of Matty’s own arms. But this gentle motion was driving him wild with a secret lust. He wanted to stay here forever, submitting to this perfect being; eating for him, gorging. Whatever he wanted. “I think I’m going to need something else after this ice cream,” he breathed, imagining all the women this gorgeous man had fucked whilst they were wearing this piggy snout.

“So am I…” Josh nodded down at the steep tent that had formed in his pants.

“Are you asking me to..?” Matty began, surprised by how blatant Josh had suddenly become.

Josh nodded and sighed with lust, setting the ice cream down and scrambling to pull his pants down below his hips. Out plopped the most mostrously thick man dick, throbbing with lust. He picked it up and looked deeply into Matty’s eyes. “Suck it, Fatty” he ordered, as if too aroused to construct even a full sentence.

Matty manouevered himself and did as he was told, sliding his lips over the head of Josh’s penis. Immediately, the enormous jock moaned loudly and the giant muscle flexed and leaked within Matty’s mouth. It wasn’t going to take much work at all and Matty could actually make this kinky stud come. He felt Josh’s hips shudder and jump as he worked; the boy’s breathing becoming deeper and more frantic. Then, with a growl that Matty had never heard anywhere off the football pitch, Josh exploded into his mouth, making it hard not to gag from the force of it all.

There had been no going back from that night. Heather had been right: the kinky boy really was a handful. But, had it been worth it? Matty certainly thought so, even as his weight spiralled on and on into greater depths of obesity and he learned to enjoy such transformative feedings with the person of his dreams.

“Are you ready for our next adventure, Piggy?” Josh asked his rotund boyfriend a year later, stroking his wide, enormously fat butt as they left their college dorm for the final time.

Matty smiled back with excitement. “Always.”

964 notes · View notes

lomltrentarnold · 10 months

Text

belly — jude bellingham ₊˚ෆ

summary : jude hates nicknames but somehow it’s different when you said it or maybe it’s because jude has a soft spot for you.

🍓hana’s notes : got inspired by jude’s sleeveless pics hehe tell me what yall think <3 they’re just so in love with each other its sick || MAIN MASTERLIST

Jude didn’t have a lot of nicknames growing up. The most people would call him was Judey or Hey Jude. So imagine his surprise when one day you suddenly have come up with a new nickname for him.

“Belly!”

Your voice rings across the training field. multiple pair of eyes turned to look at you and your cheeks became warm at the sudden attention. What were you think was going to happen when shouting?

You sheepishly smiled at the players and coaches, apologising at the sudden interruption. “Sorry.”

Jude’s head snapped towards the familiar voice, seeing you fidget between your feet when you noticed that everyone was looking at you. He chuckled and shook his head, “I’ll be back boys.” he said to his teammates. Pretending like he didn’t hear a faint go get em lover boy, after he excused himself.

Your kept your head down to avoid being blinded by the sun. A sudden shadow figure loomed over you, conveniently blocking the sunlight from your vision.

“What are you doing here?” Jude asked, a smirk on his face at the previous moment.

You narrowed your eyes as you looked at him, “Wipe that smirk of your face.” you threatened. You were embarrassed, yes. But he didn’t need to rub it in.

He laughed, the weird part of you felt proud that you were the reason.

“Your ma sent me.” you explained, “She was wondering if I could come and pick you up. She forgot she had plans to meet up with her friends.” your sighed, pulling the strap of your bag back up as it kept sliding off your shoulder.

Jude nodded his head, “Oh, okay, then.” he took your sling bag off your shoulder and onto his when he noticed it kept slipping off. “I think we’ll finish in about two hours.” he nudged his head towards the tent that some of the staff were sitting at, “Wanna sit over there?”

You nodded as you both walked towards the empty seat. Not noticing the knowing looks that his teammates were sending you guys.

Jude placed your bag softly at the side of an empty chair. “You okay, here?”

You took a seat and smiled up at him, and Jude hates that fact that he felt his heart rate pick up at the sight.

“Yeah, I’m good, Belly.”

Jude shook his head, “You have to stop calling me that.” as he scoffed out a laugh.

You smiled, “But you look too cute when you’re shy.”

“What? Because of you?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

“I am not shy.”

“Oh? I don’t make you shy?”

“No.”

You stared at him which lead up to a little staring contest. It was normal like this with Jude, lighthearted teasing with no real intention (at least that’s what you tell your self) and waiting for someone to break first.

“Bellingham!”

You broke your eye contact when his name was being called.

“Stop your flirting and get back to training!”

Laughing, you look back at Jude to only realise that he was still looking at you. Brown eyes all mischievous and… fond. Huh, that’s new.

Jude smirked, making his smile lines show “I win.”

You rolled your eyes, “That’s not fair. I was distracted.” pointing to the coach.

His eyes trailed all over your face, up your eyes, down your nose and to your lips. It leaves your face all warm and your mind all mushy. The sun helps illuminate his skin, glowing and shiny from his sweat. His biceps bulging in a way that has you wondering what would happen if you hold it in your hand.

Whoa, this is all very new.

Since when did Jude Bellingham got you feeling giddy?

You tried to ignore the way it made you feel, more so because it was embarrassing to admit to yourself that you have been feeling more of these feelings around him.

You needed to get a grip. He’s your best friend.

His voice broke your train of thought, “I was distracted, but I still won.” he mumbled, eyes boring into your soul as he tries to gauge your reaction.

The teasing wasn’t new, so why were you getting nervous?

“Bellingham!” the coach yelled again.

Jude flicked your forehead, making you scrunch up your face. “Hey!”

He starts to walk away backwards, sending you a wink that have you rolling your eyes fondly, “Don’t miss me too much!” before turning around and jogging back to the training field.

You shook your head, puffs of laughter escaping your lips, “Idiot.”

Looking towards the field, you immediately made eye contact with Jude again. He waved at you, which you responded with a wave yourself. Smiling at you before almost tripping over his feet.

Your idiot.

#˚ʚɞ˚ belly!#hana writes!#this is queued #im just a sucker for childhood besties to lovers <3 #and the teasing 😫😫😫😫#please tell me what you think <3333 #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham #football x y/n #football imagine #football x reader #football x you

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jaeyunverse · 8 months

Text

dandelions

pairing: nishimura riki x fem!reader

genres: fluff, academic rivals to lovers, private boarding school au (??)

wc: 2488

warnings: profanity, reader is sick

summary: the last thing you needed before your midterm was to fall ill. thankfully, nishimura riki was there to make sure you were okay.

note: this was supposed to be small i have no idea what happened i’m sorry if it seems to drag on forever rip. also the title has no connection to the content of the fic i just used it bc i suck at thinking of something that actually fits the story!

You may have been a little disoriented and on the verge of falling asleep, but you still felt the presence of someone standing over you.

“Go away, Nishimura,” you said, burying your face deeper in your arms. School was about to start in a few minutes and you were slumped over your desk, the hood of your jacket pulled over your head.

The only reason you knew it was Riki was because you didn’t really have any friends that would come to check up on you. Sure, you talked to a lot of people in your grade, but there wasn’t anyone you could turn to in an hour of need.

Studying all the time to maintain your scholarship never left you much time to socialise.

“Didn’t sleep last night?” he popped. You sighed weakly and tried to tune out his incessant blabbering. “You shouldn’t try so hard, Y/N. I thought after all this time you’d have realised it’s impossible to beat me.”

You would have snapped at him for being so cocky if it weren’t for the fact that he was right. No matter how much work you put into your academics, you could never seem to surpass the boy.

You weren’t one to give up, though. The more you failed, the more you tried. The more you improved. You’d received the same percentage as him in the last midterm—you were hopeful about finally outperforming him in this one.

If only you weren’t sick.

It seemed your long studying hours, lack of sleep and personal neglect had finally caught up to you. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d eaten a proper meal.

You’d been determined to go through everything again as many times as you could, and that had somehow snowballed into you staying awake for over 36 hours with a fever of over 100°F.

None of this would have happened if you had your mom to force you to take a break. You supposed an unhealthy lifestyle was one of the downsides of attending a boarding school.

It was fine, though. The next exam wasn’t for a week, so you could sleep for several hours and take plenty of time to recover after you were done with today’s test.

“Please go away,” you muttered, clenching your eyes shut against the sharp stab of pain that shot through your head. Fuck, this was the last thing you needed right now.

There was a pause for a moment. Then, you heard the sound of a chair being dragged closer and Riki sitting down right next to you.

He leaned closer to your face so he could examine it and asked, “Are you ill?”

You couldn’t even muster the energy to give him an answer. You just wanted him to leave you alone so you could pull yourself together before the bell rang.

Obviously, he did the exact opposite. He lifted your hood a little bit and placed the back of his hand on your cheek, causing you to shiver at the cold contact.

“You’re burning up, Y/N!” he exclaimed and withdrew his arm. “We need to get you to the medical wing right now!”

You ignored him.

Riki shrugged his blazer off and dropped it over your shoulders, enveloping your body in some much needed warmth.

“Can you get up by yourself?”

Again, if speaking hadn’t been proving to be such a difficult task, you would have pointed out how stupid he was for asking you that right after weighing you down with his heavy blazer.

It didn’t matter anyway. You weren’t leaving the classroom before you turned in your answer paper.

Riki interpreted your lack of response as a cry for help. He grabbed the back of your seat with a hand and pulled you away from your desk.

You yelped at the sudden movement, but he snaked an arm around your waist before you could topple and hauled you up.

“I don’t need your help,” you managed to croak as he slung your arm around his neck for better support. “Leave me alone, Riki. I’m fine.”

“You have a fever, Y/N,” Riki said, finally getting a good look at your face. Maybe it was because your gaze was foggy, but you could see concern and worry etching his features. “You look half dead.”

You sighed and let your head loll forward. “It’s fine.”

The next thing he spoke wasn’t directed at you, but at the teacher who had just walked through the door to supervise the test.

“Y/N’s sick, Mrs. Lee,” Riki informed. “Is it okay if I take her to the nurse?”

“Oh—certainly,” she sputtered, clearly caught off guard. Hurrying towards you, she checked your temperature and you heard a quiet gasp leave her mouth. “She’s burning up. We need to get her some medical attention immediately.”

“I’m okay, Mrs. Lee.” You lifted your head and tried to give her a reassuring smile. “I’ll visit her after the exam.”

Your teacher only stared at you incredulously. Then, she commanded Riki, “Let’s move. I’ll call for a substitute supervisor.”

Before you could protest again, he said, “It’s fine if you don’t accompany me, ma’am. I can manage on my own.”

“No—”

“The bell will ring in a minute. You won’t be able to find someone so soon and the others won’t receive their question papers on time. Really, I can do this by myself.”

Mrs. Lee appeared conflicted, but she seemed to find some sense in his words. He was the star student—she could trust him with you. “Okay. Just keep me updated.”

And then Riki was helping you out of class and to the medical wing. Since he was so tall, your arm was stretched up to find support on his shoulders.

The blazer kept slipping off, and the boy decided enough was enough after the third time he had to stop and tug it back on you.

“Y/N,” he said softly. “Hey.”

You opened your eyes and glanced at him weakly. “There?”

“Not yet. I’m gonna let go of you for a minute. Lean on the wall, okay?”

You gave him a small nod and did as you were told once Riki took his blazer off you. Lifting your arm, he slid it into the sleeve. Then, he pulled you closer so your back wasn’t resting against the wall anymore and brought the piece of clothing on your other side.

He was pretty much caging you with his figure now, and despite yourself, you found that his embrace was much more comfortable than his blazer. Somehow, his presence made you feel ten times better.

“Okay, let’s go,” he announced, gripping your waist and slinging your arm around his neck again. But this time, he intertwined the fingers of his free hand with yours.

The sudden increase in the pace of your heart and the heat rushing to your face were definitely side effects of whatever was wrong with your body.

“Why are you helping me?” you rasped. Great, your throat was itching too now.

Riki frowned at you. “Huh?”

“I could not have been clearer, Nishimura.”

“I wasn’t talking about the question.” He let out an exasperated sigh. “Your tone surprised me. You sounded oddly suspicious.”

“Oddly? Given our history, I think my reaction is completely normal.” You shouldn’t have been tiring yourself out by conversing with him, but you couldn’t deny that you were curious.

“What history?” Riki inquired, looking confused as well. “I thought we were friends.”

You reached the medical wing before you could reply. The nurse noticed you and smiled at the student she was checking on before rushing towards you.

“She has a high fever,” Riki said before she could ask. “It’s accompanied by a headache and overall weakness, I think.”

The nurse’s eyebrows furrowed as she led the two of you towards a bed. “Yeah, we’ve been getting a lot of that recently with the exams coming up. Are you getting enough sleep? Eating food regularly?”

“Uh…” You winced. “Sure.”

She gave you a knowing look and came to a stop. “Lie down here. I’ll go get the thermometer and blood pressure machine. Get your story straight by the time I come back.”

Riki helped you get on the bed and took a seat on the chair beside you. “You’re stupid, you know that?”

All you did was stare at the ceiling.

“You’re supposed to take care of yourself, Y/N!” he scolded. “When was the last time you slept? I don’t even see you in the cafeteria anymore. Is packaged food all you’ve been eating these days—”

“Why do you care, Riki?” you asked him again, finally averting your gaze to meet his.

He fell silent. Then, he muttered in defeat, “I just do.”

“Thanks for bringing her here, but you need to go back to class, Mr. Nishimura. I need to treat my patient.” To no one’s surprise, the nurse knew his name. Everyone did. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

“I’ll wait.”

“You have an exam in progress.”

“I’ll give the retest with Y/N.”

“She has a valid reason to be here. You don’t.”

“But—”

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Riki glanced at you in despair before giving in. “Fine. I’ll see you in three hours, Y/N.”

You awkwardly nodded at him in acknowledgement. Why was he suddenly so concerned about you? All he’d done the past few years was be a complete pain in your ass.

Weird.

Your head was no longer throbbing when you regained consciousness.

It didn’t feel like you had the fever anymore, though you still felt weak and wanted to lie in bed forever.

Rubbing the gunk out of your eyes, you pushed yourself up and groggily looked around. The medical wing’s lighting had been dimmed, so you reckoned that night had already fallen.

Sure enough, when you glanced out of the window, the full moon was staring back at you.

Then you noticed an unmoving figure seated by your bed—Riki.

His arms were crossed over his chest and his head was slumped forward. His ruffled hair was hiding his face, but it was obvious he was sleeping.

Blinking in surprise, you debated whether or not to wake him up. You knew he’d fallen asleep in that uncomfortable position while waiting for you to come around, but waking him up didn’t seem right either.

Thankfully, you were spared from making the decision. He leaned forward in his sleep and your hand shot out to prevent him from toppling over.

He looked so lost when he jerked awake that you had to purse your lips to stop yourself from smiling.

“You’re awake!” Riki exclaimed upon catching sight of your sitting figure. “How do you feel?”

“Rested,” you admitted. “I don’t think I have a fever anymore.”

The boy placed the back of his hand against your throat and confirmed it. “You don’t.”

“How many hours was I out for?” you inquired, frowning at the darkness outside the window.

“Hours?” Riki laughed. “You were out for days. We came here yesterday morning and it’ll be midnight soon now.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach. “Oh, fuck. I have to study.”

“What the hell, Y/N? Have you learned nothing?” he demanded, glaring at you.

“I haven’t,” you said and kicked the heavy blankets off of you. “Which is why I need to study. I need to prepare for the retest too.”

Riki rolled his eyes. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Yeah, well—” you began, slipping your feet in your school shoes and tying your unbound hair in a high ponytail. “Doesn’t matter.”

Getting up from the chair, he shoved his hands in the pockets of his trousers. “You might wanna eat something first.”

“I’m stocked up on instant noodles.” You brushed the stray strands away from your face and stared at him. “I’ll make some when I get back to my dorm.”

The moonlight filtering through the high windows was illuminating his face. Even with exhaustion weighing him down, he looked as good as ever.

Riki had stayed the entire time. Lectures had been suspended till the end of midterms, and judging by the empty sandwich boxes you could spy inside your bedside trash can, he hadn’t even left your side long enough to eat at the canteen tables.

You’d found him sleeping in that uncomfortable position today; there was a good chance he’d spent the previous night here too.

Hesitating a bit, you added, “You’re welcome to join me if you’d like. Haerin will be there too.”

The least you could do to thank him was invite him for a meal, albeit it wasn’t anything cooked on a stove.

“No.”

You hadn’t realised you were hoping he would say yes until he turned you down. But before the disappointment could plague you further, he continued,

“I’m not letting you eat packaged food again. Especially not when you haven’t even recovered fully. We’re going to raid the school kitchen and you’re going to eat an actual meal. I’ll even cook you something if there aren’t any leftovers from dinner to heat.”

“That’s very considerate of you, but we aren’t allowed to leave our rooms after 10,” you pointed out. “And we certainly aren’t allowed to access the kitchen.”

Riki grinned. “Then I guess it’s a good thing I can pull some strings and get us what we want.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, but you realised what he meant not even a moment later—your school’s head chef was his father’s close friend. That had to give him some perks.

“Mr. Kim told me to not hesitate to drop by if I was hungry. I never took him up on the offer, but I guess right now is as good a time as any.”

“What if we get caught?” you asked, still not sure about his plan.

Pushing past you, Riki began walking towards the door. “I never knew you to be such a goody two shoes, Y/N.”

You scowled and jogged up to him. “I literally just invited you to my dorm despite the strict rules. Besides, not all of us have connections to get out of trouble, Nishimura.”

“I’m your connection.”

“That is not reassuring.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers.”

“Kill yourself.”

“You look cute in my blazer.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you immediately looked away to hide the embarrassment beginning to colour your face a hot red. “Since when did start you flirting with me?”

“Since October. Thanks for finally noticing.”

“You’re a horrible flirter if your idea of the word is to be a huge pain in the ass.”

He hummed, his eyes glinting with playful mischief. “It seems I have a lot to learn.”

Finally mustering the courage to look at him, you said with a small smile, “Need help?”

Riki’s answering grin was blinding and full of joy. “I thought you’d never ask.”

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