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Champagne Problems | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Oh, hi! Truly, sometimes you just don't know the answer till someone's on their knees and asks you, you know? Also I hope my taglist works this time but who the fuck knows.

Word Count: 9.1k

Warnings: engagement / wedding talk, mentions of alcohol

Nat flipped through your list of invitees, crossing off a few names as she scanned the page. She took it upon herself to help you stuff, address, and mail the invitations for your engagement party, because in her words, you were “dragging your feet”. There were only five or so weeks left until the event, and you just hadn’t found the time to sit down and sort out the invitations. At least, that’s the excuse you told Nat- and yourself.

“Okay, we’re finally making some progress, we’re about halfway done,” Nat called from the dining table. “Shit. Without me, no one would even show up to this fucking party.” She didn’t mean for you to hear that second part- but her voice echoed through your nearly empty apartment.

Almost everything you owned was gone; either sold, or stored, or moved into the house you were to share with your fiancé, Cole. All that remained was your clothes, your bed, and a few odds and ends. It would’ve been far easier, far more convenient, to stay in your new house instead of living out of cardboard boxes. And far more aesthetically pleasing. The house was a nice- nicer than you’d ever be able to afford yourself. And it was beautiful. There was a lush garden in the backyard. A swing on the front porch. Even a white picket fence. You described it to everyone as “picturesque.”

But the lease on your apartment wasn’t up quite yet. You still had a few weeks until your move-out date, and you wanted to soak in as much time at the old place as you could. You loved it here. Loved the worn wooden floors and the doors that didn’t hang straight. The dent in the wall where Bucky bonked his metal elbow when you popped out of the hall closet and scared him. The corner in your bedroom where you and Bucky made a blanket fort during last winter’s blizzard. Memories papered the walls and covered the floors of this place- and most of them involved Bucky.

This was home. And while the new house was great- and fully paid for by your fiancé’s wealthy parents- it didn’t feel like you belonged there. It didn’t welcome you in or fill you with warmth. Cole’s mom said it just needed the right décor. Your friends told you it needed time. But deep down, you knew that no amount of beautiful area rugs, no amount of time, could turn your house with Cole into a home. There would always be one thing missing, one glaring and flagrant void.

Bucky.

“You’re inviting Bucky?” Nat looked up from the list and found you coming around the corner with a bowl of popcorn in hand. Her incredulous expression nearly stopped you in your tracks.

You gave her a strange look, “Yeah, of course. He’s my best friend. Why wouldn’t he be invited?”

“Okay, first of all,” Nat scoffed, “He’s your best friend- present company excluded. And second, do you really think that’s a good idea?”

You threw a few pieces of popcorn into your mouth as you settled into your chair. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

Nat rolled her eyes, “Because I don’t think it’s smart to invite the guy you’re actually in love with to a party celebrating your engagement to another man.” She threw you a shrug, “but hey, that’s just me.”

“Woah-” you almost choked on your popcorn. “I’m not in love with Bucky.”

It was the most absurd thing Nat had ever heard. “I’m not in love with Bucky!” she jeered, imitating your voice. “Yeah, right.”

“Okay, okay, jesus,” you raised your hands, miming a surrender. “I did- at one point- have romantic feelings for him,” you conceded, “but that was a while ago.”

“Oh, at one point?” Nat crossed her arms over her chest. “You say that like you had a small crush on him for a week, when we both know your ‘romantic feelings’ have been a constant ever since you became friends with the guy.”

Her accusations weren’t necessarily wrong. But they were loud. And pointed. And rubbed salt in your many wounds. “It was …” you gave a small shake of your head. “We never got the timing right, you know? It just didn’t work in our favor.” The heartache with which you’d grown familiar reared its ugly head. “But it’s fine,” you told her. “I’m engaged, now. So.”

Ever since you boyfriend, Cole, became your fiancé, you’d done your best to kill and bury your longing for Bucky. But your feelings for him weren’t so easily vanquished. They were strong and boisterous and loud. At least a few times a day, they launched themselves at you out of nowhere. At work. At the grocery store. At dinner with Cole and his parents. Nowhere was safe. Everywhere you went, things reminded you of Bucky. Of your favorite person. Of the person to whom you were not engaged.

The desperate pining for him tore your still-healing wounds wide open. Every time your gaze landed on your engagement ring, every time a friend mentioned your impending wedding, a sharp pain sliced through your chest. And each time, you were forced to acknowledge the fact that you were not, in fact, getting married to Bucky.

“Um, anyway…” you cleared your throat, “Of course, I’m inviting Bucky. And the subject isn’t open for debate, by the way. It’s my party and I’ll invite who I want to.”

You grabbed an invitation and a blank envelope from the stacks in front of Nat and positioned them in front of you. If Nat didn’t want you inviting Bucky, there was a more than significant chance that she’d conveniently “forget” to address an invite for him. And so, you scrawled his name and address onto an envelope and affixed a stamp in the corner. Come hell or high water, he was going to get his invitation. Even if he didn’t want to come.

The night of the party arrived sooner than you expected. Sooner than you’d hoped.

The house was abuzz with people running in and out, carrying food and linens and liquor; you knew you’d be requiring the latter in order to survive the night. Florists arrived to cover the house in perfect, beautiful blooms. A team of caterers brought with them enough fine food to feed an army. And a flawless, two-tiered cake with delicate lacy piping sat on the dining room table, complete with yours and Cole’s initials. All of it was perfect. Picturesque, really. It was exactly what you wanted- but Cole wasn’t who you wanted it with.

Every few minutes, you checked your phone in search of a text from Bucky. The deadline to RSVP had come and gone almost two weeks ago, and he never gave you an answer one way or another. He ignored your “hey, are you coming to my party?” texts, and your “just wanted to know if you plan on coming to the party” voicemails. He ignored almost all of your correspondence, actually.

Lately, he’d only been answering about a third of your texts and a quarter of your calls. It was unlike him. It was unheard of, really. On multiple occasions in the past, he answered your calls while taking heavy fire; you could actually hear the bullets whizzing by on his end of the line. But now, things were quiet. And you forced yourself to accept that fact that he was not coming to your party.

The festivities kicked off around seven-thirty, and you found your house full to the brim with party goers. All of Cole’s friends showed up. His childhood friends, his college buddies, his old soccer team- they all arrived with bells on. And your friends were well represented, too. High school pals, your book club, a close coworker or two. They were all so excited to see you, so happy that you found someone.

Even Bucky’s teammates made an appearance. They were his friends first, of course, but growing close with him meant growing close to them. And you’d build unbreakable bonds with Sam, Nat, Wanda, and Maria. They were thrilled for you and more than happy to attend your party- even if Bucky wouldn’t be there.

With your house so full, so jam-packed with friends, you thought you wouldn’t notice the pain of Bucky’s absence. But you did. Of course, you did. And you found yourself feeling painfully alone in a sea of people.

Without Bucky there, the night seemed to fall flat. The flowers lost their vibrance. The food was bland. And the music sounded disjointed and off-tempo. Things just weren’t the same.

People swarmed you every few seconds, hollering their congratulations and asking to see the ring again. They asked you about venues and dresses, bridesmaids and center pieces. Everyone meant well- you knew they did. But as the throngs of people refused to relent with their questions about table linens, your chest began to tighten. A hard, concrete cast wrapped itself around your lungs, preventing them from expanding. A suffocating lack of oxygen rendered your dizzy. It was all too much. The people and the music and the impending nuptials. Even the sensation Cole’s hand on your waist was too much, too tight, too smothering.

With a whispered “be right back”, you moved swiftly through the crowd and escaped out the front door. If you could just get some space, some quiet, some oxygen, you’d be fine.

The door provided you with much needed support as you tilted and teetered on unsteady feet. The panic, the alcohol, the high heels- it all combined to form a dizzying, possibly lethal combination. But at least you were outside. As least you were free. The cool night air prickled at your skin, and finally, your lungs filled to capacity. A few deep inhales cleared the fog from your mind. With closed eyes, you tipped your head back against the door and let yourself enjoy the quiet. Sure, the music from your playlist leaked into the night air, but this was the closest thing to silence you’d experienced all night. And you were not going to complain.

As your heartbeat slowed, you told yourself it would be okay. That everything was going to be fine. That you’d figure out how to handle the situation. And, if only for a moment, you actually believed your fabrications. A sense of peace wrapped around you like a blanket, and a welcome calm settled into your bones.

But the creak of a porch step yanked your eyes open.

And there you found Bucky, frozen on the second to last stair, with giftbox in hand. He eyed you as though he were a prey animal, wondering if you’d seen him, waiting for his chance to escape. But it was too late; he’d been caught.

“Buck?”

He forced a smile, “Hey.”

“Hi!” you launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck with an intensity that would’ve injured a mere mortal. He reeled back a few paces as your momentum knocked into him. “I’m so glad you’re here! didn’t think you were coming!”

His arms draped loosely- weakly- behind your back. It wasn’t much- but it was better than no Bucky at all. And after he failed to respond to your messages, didn’t answer your calls, and made himself scarce over the last few months, you’d take whatever you could get.

“Right. Yeah. Well, technically, I’m not-” He untangled himself from your arms and pointed at the perfectly wrapped giftbox. “I just wanted to drop off your present.”

“Oh, thanks. That’s-” Dismay dripped from your words, “Wait, you’re not staying?”

Bucky gave a shake of his head. He avoided your eyeline and chose, instead, to look at anything other than you. The grass. The porch light. His own shoes. “I can’t, sorry.”

It crushed you. Having him stop by for only a moment was far worse than him not showing up at all. Because now, you had to deal with the loss. The pain of his departure. For him to grant you the warmth of his presence, only to snatch it away moments later was almost cruel. How could he leave when you were finally seeing the world in color? How could he go when the music finally made sense with him by your side?

You didn’t want to beg. Didn’t want to make him feel bad. Didn’t want to seem pathetic. But the words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. “You can’t stay for even a little while?”

The disappointment in your voice broke his heart. And he had half a mind to forget his plan and allow you to escort him inside. But he stood firm. “I would,” he shoved his hands into his pockets. “But I have to go pick up a friend from the airport.”

The words hit you in a strange place. A pin-prick pain nipped at your chest- you’d caught him in a lie. “Buck, no offense, but all your friends are inside.” You gestured toward the house with a nod of your head. It was true- all of Bucky’s closest friends were dancing the night away in your living room. And he was caught red handed.

“Right…” His teeth dug into the smooth flesh of his cheek; his eyes roamed the yard. He should’ve known better than to use such a lame excuse- he did know better. He couldn’t casually lie around you; you knew him too well. But the pressure got to him, and forced cracks into his cool, marble surface. He hadn’t even expected to see you tonight, let alone talk to you. The painful awkwardness of the moment ate through him like acid.

“So… you can stay?” Your words came out too desperate, too expectant. But you couldn’t help it. You’d do anything to get him to hang around- even if he didn’t seem excited about it. Hell, you’d beg him on your knees if that’s what it took. Anything to get him to stay.

“Uh, yeah,” he shrugged. “I guess I can.”

Finally, he let his eyes land on you. After choosing to avert his gaze for so long, he wasn’t strong enough to do so any longer. He had to look at you, to take in every detail of your face. But as he drank you in slowly, inch by inch, in the light of the full moon, a strange solemnity sunk its teeth into him. Perfectly imperfect curls framed your face. A flawless diamond sat at the hollow of your throat. You were even wearing his favorite lipstick of yours- the one he said made you look like a vintage Hollywood star. He eyed your delicate, lacy white dress. Your white strappy heels with bows on the ties. Your white nails. And the perfect, glistening diamond adorning the ring finger of your left hand.

Everything about you was so beautiful. So bridal. It made his chest tight.

“You look really nice,” he said, almost bashful. “Beautiful.”

“I, um- thanks. Thank you.”

This stupid white dress. With its stupid lace and its stupid pearls and its stupid bridal flare. You hated it. Resented it. Wanted to take scissors to its seams. But if you were to play the role of Cole’s blushing bride, you had to dress the part, didn’t you? You had to don your fiancée costume and take part in the production.

But, regardless of your feelings about the outfit, your heart still flared at Bucky’s compliment. One simple word of praise from him had such a startling, intense effect on you. And suddenly, you were in high school again. He filled you with a sense of giddy adoration that you hadn’t experienced since the tenth grade. This was the stuff of love notes stuffed into lockers. Of first kisses under the bleachers. But your feelings for him could never be as fleeting or as shallow as those of your youth. No, this was the stuff of forever.

“Hello?” Bucky gave you a wave. “You okay?”

An awkward laugh escaped your chest, “Yeah. Sorry, I kinda spaced out there for a second. Did you say something?”

“I said, what are you doing outside?” He eyed the packed house. Twinkling lights shone through the windows. Crowds of people danced and drank champagne. Music wafted through the air. “Shouldn’t you be in there? At the party? Cause, you know, it’s for you.”

Just the thought of going back to the party made your stomach turn. Part of you wondered if you might be able to hide outside all night; just stay in the yard until the festivities came to a close. Hell, maybe you could even run away. You could get pretty far if you started walking and didn’t look back. By the time the party ended, you could be deep in the heart of Brooklyn- you could be at Bucky’s.

“Yeah, no, I probably- I should be inside. But, I’m just…” you took in a sharp breath. It hitched in your windpipe and got stuck for a moment. “I got a little overwhelmed, you know? With the noise, and the people and the… everything. So, I came out here to-” To hide. To escape. To flee. “To get some air.”

Bucky could’ve sworn he sensed something lurking beneath your calm surface. It was the slightest change in your voice, the smallest twitch of your brow. He clocked the way your hands never stilled. The way your teeth dug into the inside of your cheek. Something was off.

He sat in the long silence, waiting for you to open the vault and show him your secrets. But the lock remained secure. You didn’t say anything else, didn’t hint at the source of your discontent. He eyed your manufactured smile, but couldn’t seem to crack it.

Things never used to be this way. He didn’t keep secrets from you, and you wouldn’t dream of hiding anything from him- there was no reason to. Neither of you had to fear judgement or ridicule from the other. Your most embarrassing stories, Bucky’s darkest thoughts- they were all safe with the other.

But an unfamiliar disconnect had pulled the two of you apart. And Bucky could no longer read your soul like a book.

“Everything’s okay, though. Right?” He eyed you with suspicion. With concern.

You nodded- maybe too fervently. “Yeah. For sure,” a fake smile stretched across your face, “Just stressed, I guess.”

“And he treats you right?” It was one of the things Bucky worried about most. Sure, the house was nice. And the ring was huge. But did Cole speak to you with kindness? Did he show you empathy and understanding? Did he make you feel safe?

“Yes.”

Bucky breathed a small sigh of relief. Knowing that Cole handled you with care brought a sliver of ease to his worried mind. “So, you’re happy then?”

It was all Bucky ever wanted for you. A safe life, a happy life. But the answer wasn’t yes or no. This was the farthest thing from a black and white situation. On more than one occasion, you told yourself to just be happy. You thought that if you willed it, if you said it with conviction- then it would be true. And the happiness you were supposed to feel around your fiancé would magically spring up around you. But it didn’t. Every day, you waited. Every day, you told yourself to just be fucking happy. Cole gave you everything. He was nice and agreeable and provided you with the resources to do anything you’d ever wanted. But the happiness never came. At one point, you decided you’d settle for contentment. But that too evaded you.

“Um, do you wanna sit?” It was the best subject change you could come up with on such short notice. “The porch is free. Come on.”

Before Bucky could respond, he found your fingers linked with his. Chills traveled up his arm, over his shoulder, and across his scalp. Even the most innocent of your touches sent his dopamine levels through the roof. He’d never experienced ecstasy like this ever before- and knew he never would again. Especially not after your wedding.

He knew it was selfish to feel anything less than happy for you. You were engaged, you were getting married- this was what you wanted. You wanted marriage. A lifelong partner. A “till death do us part” kind of relationship. And now, you finally had it. So, who was Bucky to ruin it for you? Who was he to hope that you’d leave Cole at the altar? He forbade himself from ever being that selfish. If he was truly your closest friend, he had to be happy for you- even if it meant that he could never be anything more than your friend.

With his hand in yours, you led Bucky to the porch. And regardless of the brand-new patio furniture Cole’s parents gifted you, you and Bucky opted to sit on the steps. Crickets chirped every now and again. A cool breeze wafted through the trees, rattling the leaves. Voices and music and the clatter of dishes seeped through the windows. You didn’t notice any of it.

Because, finally, you had what you wanted- if only for a moment.

It was the simplest, most innocent desire you’d ever had. To sit on the front steps with Bucky. To share a home with him. To drink coffee next to him on the porch each morning. To watch the rain from safety of your porch swing with Bucky’s head in your lap.

If you ignored the white dress and the engagement ring and the pop of champagne bottles, you could almost believe that this was Bucky’s house, too. That the two of you could go inside and retire to bed. That you could wake up in the morning, wrapped in his arms. You could almost believe it. Almost.

The two of you sat in silence, planning your words carefully. Conversation felt like a mine field, and one misstep could send either of you to your death. But the warmth radiating off Bucky’s his body wrapped you in a familiar comfort. The narrow steps didn’t provide much in the way of sitting room, forcing Bucky to sit almost shoulder to shoulder with you- not that he’d ever complain.

With every gust of wind, he caught a whiff of your perfume- the perfume he loved so much. The scent that often clung to his hair and weaved itself into the fabric of his clothes. It mixed with the smell of early spring- crisp air and new blooms. And he felt himself losing his resolve. He did his best to put distance between the two of you, to protect his heart and yours. But as you leaned your body against his and rested your head on his shoulder. He wondered why the fuck he’d ever leave your side.

You, too, lost all strength. And suddenly, you didn’t care about misspeaking.

“I miss you, Buck…” Present tense. Because, even with him next to you, you missed him. Missed the way things used to be. “I feel like I never see you anymore.”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry. I’ve been so busy with work, and trying to prove myself…” He let out a heavy sigh. Of course, regardless of his intentional distance from you, work really was killing him. “Everyone at SWORD is paranoid- they’re convinced that there’s a secret faction of Hydra growing within their organization.”

“Hmm, that’s so weird. I wonder why they’d be worried about that.” You gave bucky a nudge, and pulled a laugh- your favorite laugh- from his chest.

“Yeah, yeah,” he shot you an eye roll. “But you’re probably really busy, too. With all the wedding planning.”

His mention of the wedding shattered your perfect, maladaptive daydreams. All the noise from the party once again filled your consciousness. And the weight of Cole’s engagement ring felt like an anchor, dragging you down to the deepest, loneliest sea. Bucky wished he hadn’t brought it up as you removed your head from his shoulder.

“Oh, yeah, no. It’s been-” you felt yourself closing off a bit, and did your best to fight it. “I haven’t actually planned a single thing. At all. So.”

Bucky gave you a strange look. It wasn’t like you to put things off, to procrastinate. He knew you to be an organized, ahead of the curve type of person. You were always the one who had a plan, always the one who over-prepared. He figured that in the few months since your engagement, you’d have planned at least a few things- if not the entire wedding and honeymoon.

“Do you have a date at least?” He pulled out his phone, “I want to put it in my calendar.”

Bucky would be there to support you no matter what, even if watching you marry another man killed him.

“Um, no, there’s no date yet,” you said. “Cole’s parents belong to a really fancy country club and said we could get married there- it’s beautiful. All I have to do is contact the club’s event coordinator and figure out which days are available. I just-” you dropped your eyes to the ground, “I haven’t yet.”

Bucky didn’t like your downcast gaze or your uncertain voice. There was something eating at you- he’d bet his life on it. Maybe you were just overwhelmed. Maybe you felt like you were behind on all the decisions that needed to be made. Either way, he wanted to help.

He threw you a shrug. “Well, there’s no rush, is there?”

He took your left hand in both of his and gave it squeeze, but regretted the gesture when your engagement ring dug into his palm. You were getting married to someone else; he had to stop touching you like this. Had to stop treating you like you were still on the market. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or disrespect your relationship. And so, he dug his hands into his pockets.

“I mean some people don’t start planning right away, right?” He said, “They wanna take their time and enjoy the engagement for a while, and-

“I’m not.”

“You’re not what?”

“Enjoying my engagement.” You had half a mind to take off the ring and launch it into the street. You’d dreamed about doing so every day, actually. Dreamed of throwing it on the subway tracks. Or dropping it through a grate on the street.

Alarm ran through Bucky’s system like wildfire. “Is everything okay? Is it-”

Finally, you lifted your eyes and met Bucky’s stare.

“I don’t want to marry him.”

Bucky felt his brain short circuit. He forgot how to breathe, how to speak. His thoughts tangled themselves together in tight, writhing knots. Words bounced off the walls of his skull without meaning. This wasn’t what he’d expected you to say.

“Um, why-” he cleared his throat, “why not?”

He cringed at his own question. Maybe it wasn’t his business. Maybe you didn’t want to get into the details. But you were upset. And if there was any chance at all that you’d want to vent or use Bucky as a sounding board, he was going to listen.

But there was nothing for him to listen to. For a long time, you didn’t answer. Because to you, the answer was stupid. To you, it sounded like bullshit. Like you’d wasted Cole’s time and love and money. Like you were some noncommittal, unsure child. You rolled your eyes at yourself- as you had every day since Cole’s proposal.

“I just don’t- I don’t love him,” you finally said. “I’m not in love with him. I mean, don’t get me wrong, he’s great. He’s a really nice person…” And he was. He was kind. He was understanding. He was thoughtful. But he wasn’t the one- he wasn’t Bucky. “He hasn’t done anything wrong. And he’s given me- he’s given me everything. But, I just don’t love him like I-”

You stopped yourself. The words that danced on the tip of your tongue were too risky, too dangerous. You wrangled them before they had the chance to escape- before they had the chance to push Bucky away- and locked them behind bars.

But they screamed inside your mind. ‘I don’t love him like I love you’ echoed again and again, reverberating every few seconds. Part of you feared Bucky might hear it.

“Um, I don’t love him like-” you rerouted, “Like I always imagined. You know? I don’t feel the way I thought I would.”

Bucky considered your words for a long time. Unlike you, he didn’t think it was bullshit. Or stupid. Or childish. He set his feelings for you aside, not allowing them to cloud his judgement, and thought about your predicament.

“Well, you don’t have to, you know,” he finally said. “Marry him, I mean.”

You gave him a subtle nod. Maybe he was right. But a larger problem- a more important problem- loomed. And while you’d spent the past few months hemming and hawing about marrying Cole, there was another issue at hand that ate you alive every single day.

“Why have you been avoiding me, Buck?” It wasn’t angry. It wasn’t accusatory. You just needed to know.

For the third time that night, Bucky found himself caught red-handed. “What?”

“Ever since I got engaged, you’ve been avoiding me.”

The hurt in your voice was unmistakable. And though Bucky knew it was truth, his first instinct was to refute. To deny. To deflect.

“No, I haven’t. I’m not avoiding you,” he said, putting on an air of offense. “I’ve been busy with work and-”

“Don’t give me that.” Your heartbreak dissolved into cold, hard facts. Facts that Bucky couldn’t refute. “I used to see you almost every day. No matter how busy either of us got, we still saw each other all the time. We made time for each other. But ever since Cole proposed, you don’t answer my texts anymore. You don’t respond to my voicemails. I mean, I’ve only seen you-” The realization was startling. You knew Bucky had been distant, but as you quickly flipped through your memories of the past few months, you confirmed just how detached he’d been. “I’ve seen you twice. Including tonight.”

Bucky’s silence bit through your flesh.

Part of you didn’t want to ask. Didn’t want to know. But the question left your lips before you could stop it. “Buck, are you mad at me?”

He shook his head. “No, why would I be?”

“Because Cole proposed, and I said yes.”

A look of bewilderment yanked Bucky’s features upward. Emotions flashed across his face at lightning speed. A scoff barked out of his throat.

“No. No, I’m not-” He was caught off guard. Struggling to cover his tracks. “I’m not mad. It’s not like that. I’m just-”

“What’s it like, then?” You stared at him, expectant.

“Oh, come on…” It was all too much. He couldn’t be in such close proximity to you anymore. Couldn’t have you almost pressed against his side.

He fled from his seat on the stairs and opted to stand in the grass. He paced for a beat or two, wearing down the fresh blades of greenery. And when he finally came to a stopping point, he couldn’t face you. Couldn’t look you in the eye. He just needed a moment. Needed some space. Needed to breathe air that didn’t wear your perfume. And when he cleared his mind- and his lungs- he turned to you.

“You know…” he let out a huff. “You know that things haven’t always been exactly platonic between us. You know that I’ve had- that I’m-” His metal fingers ran through his hair, “Anyway, I’m just… I’m trying to deal with this whole thing. I guess I’m not doing a good job.”

It wasn’t news to you. But it still struck you like lightning.

Things between you and Bucky always teetered on the edge of romance. Always walked a tightrope between friendship and love. And while you adored a good “will they, won’t they” type of relationship on tv, it didn’t have the same charm in real life. The Nick and Jess, Sam and Diane, Janine and Gregory dynamic brought you only pain. Confusion. Heartache. Unfortunately for you, there wasn’t a room full of talented writers scripting your every interaction with Bucky. The two of you didn’t have a well thought out, perfectly planned arc that placed you in a relationship by the end of your third season as friends. No, the two of you were left to your own devices, navigating the difficult terrain without help.

Part of you always believed that you and Bucky would end up together. Maybe it was the Ben and Leslie of it all. Or maybe it was your hopeless romantic side. But you truly thought things would work out for the two of you. The ring on your finger, however, said otherwise.

A wave of remorse washed over you. You rested your elbows on your knees and dropped your chin into your hands. “We just never got the timing right…”

Bucky furrowed his brow, “What do you mean?”

“Our feelings for each other were always out of sync,” you lamented. “They ebbed and flowed over the years- just with opposite timing. When you had feelings for me, I was dating someone. When I had feelings for you, you were in love with another woman. It was just…” you cursed fate and destiny and everything in between. “It was bad fucking timing.

A sharp edge rose in Bucky’s voice, “You think that’s what happened?”

You nodded, “Um… yeah. Yes.”

“You’re wrong.” He was steadfast. Resolute. He wanted to argue with you, wanted to prove you wrong.

“What do you mean?”

“My feelings never ebbed- whether I was dating someone or not, those feelings never went away,” he said. There was a desperation in his voice. A longing you hadn’t heard before. “And they still haven’t. They’ve never gone away or even faded a little bit. I know you had fleeting feelings for me at one time or another, but mine weren’t temporary.”

It was bullshit- it had to be. Right? His “feelings” for you never seemed so concrete, so permanent. They weren’t even feelings; if anything they were more like passing flirtations. Momentary affections that dissolved every time a beautiful woman walked by.

You let out a scoff, “Tell that to all of your girlfriends-”

“I only dated other people because I was losing my fucking mind.” His voice rose an octave or so and he cut his eyes toward the house, watching for a sign that someone had heard him. “Every time you started seeing someone new, it was like I couldn’t breathe. So, I needed something- someone- to be a distraction. And I know that’s a dick move. But-”

You weren’t proud of it, but you were familiar with Bucky’s coping mechanism. With his tactics for surviving every new boyfriend of yours. “I did the same thing.”

“What?” He didn’t believe you- not even for a second. Your engagement ring wouldn’t allow him to.

“Buck, I’ve had feelings for you since we became friends. It was pretty much immediate after meeting you. And they weren’t ‘fleeting’- or whatever you said.” The word actually offended you. “They’ve never ebbed.”

You caught a glimpse of your engagement ring in your periphery and instantly dropped your hand into your lap, hiding the ring from your view- and Bucky’s. “I only dated other people because I didn’t think anything could actually happenbetween us.”

Bucky’s chest tightened. He instantly mourned the lost time, the years he could’ve spent with your lips on his. Of course, the friendship you shared was never a waste. And he’d never trade the years you spent as confidantes. But he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about how different things could’ve been. How much mutual pain could’ve been avoided.

He took a step away from you, too confused and upset to be in your orbit. “And you never told me any of this?”

Your brow furrowed; your lips stretched into a thin, frustrated line. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

“What?”

With fury smoldering in your chest, you rose from your seat on the porch steps. Anger glistened behind your eyes and hurt coated your words. “I told you! I bared my fucking soul to you!”

The puzzle pieces came together for Bucky. He let his head tip back a bit and covered his face with his hands. He let out a deep groan that only added to your rage. He didn’t have to ask- he already knew what you were referencing. But the part of him that wanted a fight egged you on. “Oh my god, are you talking about that night at the bar?”

“Of course I am!” you spat. “I told you everything- I confessed everything! I told you I loved you and that I wanted to be with you. I told you I was in love with you. And you just brushed it off!”

Bucky grimaced, “I know...”

He wandered a bit farther, putting a few more paces between your body and his. He knew he was wrong. Knew he fucked up. Every time he thought about what you said at the bar, and the way he reacted, he grew nauseous.

“But I didn’t think it was real.” Another wave of desperation sent his voice booming through the yard, “I didn’t know you actually meant it! And I didn’t think I should hold you to something you said after six margaritas.”

He had a point. He had good reason not to believe a drunken confession. But you gave a fervent shake of your head; it wasn’t his actions that night that hurt you, it was everything that followed.

“But you didn’t even acknowledge it!” The words echoed down your street. You wondered if your neighbors had gathered around their windows, watching yours and Bucky’s drama unfold like a soap opera. “You could’ve asked me about it the next day or-”

The pain in your voice cut Bucky deep. His tone was softer now, his voice a little quieter. He knew he should’ve handled things differently. Knew you deserved better. “Well, you never brought it up either…”

“I tried to!” A rogue tear dripped down your cheek. You wiped it away in a hurry, hoping Bucky hadn’t seen it- though you knew he had. “But you told me ‘not to worry about it’ and then you walked away. And that was it.”

Bucky watched as a few more tears gathered in the corners of your eyes. He wanted to wipe them away with the sleeve of his shirt. To offer you a hug. But he couldn’t- he was certain you’d swat him away. Regret sat in his stomach, weighing him down like lead.

“Do you know how embarrassing that was for me? I told you how I felt, and you pretended like it never even happened,” your voice wavered ever so slightly. “And when I tried to talk to you about it, you waved me off. I was so humiliated- I didn’t want to say anything else.”

The weeks that followed your drunken- but true- confession were some of the most miserable times of your life. Bucky simply carried on like normal, inviting you over for movies and pizza and wine. And you didn’t have it in you to pull away. To put some distance between the two of you. To take the time you needed to lick your wounds. And if you were honest with yourself, you didn’t want to stray from his side. Didn’t want to retreat. Because being around him was better than being without him, even if the rejection left you broken and bruised.

“After that,” you shrugged, “I thought you didn’t want anything more than friendship with me.”

“But I-” Bucky shook his head; you were wrong- you were so wrong. He’d always wanted more, always wanted you. “I’ve always loved you…”

“How was I supposed to know that? I mean, your string of girlfriends says otherwise.” You thought back on the litany- on the catalogue- of beautiful women Bucky paraded around. “And I know I dated other people, too. But you had so many. And you were so- you gushed about those women. You flaunted them. You talked about them nonstop.”

Bucky knew it was true. He brought his girlfriends to every event, every team dinner, every casual hang. The one time, the one place he deemed too sacred for the presence of his rotating cast of lovers, however, was the one-on-one time you shared. He never dreamed of allowing them to tag along when it was just supposed to be the two of you- that was one line he’d never cross. He did spend a significant amount of time talking about them, though. He went on and on about his many, many forays into the dating world. And truth be told, you had trouble keeping track of all the names.

Because, while you’d had a few boyfriends here and there, Bucky dated enough women to field a soccer team. Or two.

But you weren’t mad at him for it. You didn’t hate him for seeking companionship. You just couldn’t believe that he had real, legitimate feelings for you while simultaneously telling you that he planned to propose to Isabella. Or Nadia. Or Violet.

“Honestly, you made it seem like you wanted to marry every one of them,” you told him. “The way you talked about them- it was like you were so in love. So, I didn’t think…” The whole situation was too messy. Too confusing. “I didn’t think it was possible for you to have real feelings for me. I thought you were a flirt. And a ladies’ man. And I thought you only showed me affection when you were bored between lovers.”

Bucky thought back on all the girlfriends. All the hook ups. All the times he left a one-night stand and ended up at your apartment after. He hated it- but you were right. He may have flirted with you; he may have showed you fleeting affection. And maybe he made a joke or two about growing old with you- but he never made a declarative statement. He never confessed his true and undying love for you. Never made the effort to take your friendship to the next level.

Only you’d been brave enough to do that. And he’d paid you dust.

“And I mean, you made it very clear that you didn’t want to talk about my feelings for you,” you said. A flood of familiar embarrassment rose around your ankles. You found yourself struggling to wade through it, just as you had after Bucky brushed you off. “So, I just�� I found Cole. And I stayed with him- I stayed long enough that he asked me to marry him. And I knew you didn’t want me, so… I said yes.”

Bucky couldn’t imagine a reality in which he didn’t want you. “I’m so-” he slid a hand over his mouth. He let his head drop a bit.

The weight of your words- of the truth- almost forced him to his knees. He’d only ever known longing, wanting, yearning- for you. And he always told himself you didn’t see him that way. But knowing now that you’d felt the same, that your confession was real and true, didn’t assuage the hurt. He couldn’t believe that he brushed you off. That he didn’t take the time and summon the courage to ask you about what you said at the bar.

But he’d been too scared. Too scared he’d ruin your friendship. Too scared he’d make you uncomfortable. Too scared that your drunk words were just that- drunk words with no meaning.

As your point of view stood next to his, the puzzle pieces aligned. And the two of you finally got a look at the full picture. It was a picture of mutual love, mutual longing, mutual heartache. A picture of two best friends who couldn’t find it in them to have a serious- sober- conversation about their feelings for fear of ruining a good thing.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky finally said. “I didn’t know you were serious at the bar. I didn’t mean to hurt you- I never want to hurt you.” He swiped his sleeve across his face, mopping up a stray tear that threatened to run down his cheek. “And I really didn’t mean to push you into the arms of another man. I just... I didn’t know you meant it.”

A tired sigh deflated your chest, “I meant it.”

Bucky wasn’t sure what to say. Or how to handle the situation. He hated that things got so muddled. Hated that you felt so hurt. Hated that he hadn’t just been honest. The two of you were so close, so comfortable together, he never thought things could get this messed up. This disastrous. But he supposed it was par for the course. After the way his life had played out, why would he think that something as important as falling in love would be easy?

“So, it seems like we’re…” Bucky frowned, “terrible at this.”

“Yeah,” a dark laugh escaped your chest. “I guess we’re both stupid.”

Bucky nodded. If there’d been one- just one- honest conversation between the two of you, none of this would’ve happened. There’d be no Cole. No hurt feelings. No argument in the yard. All this time, you could’ve been sleeping next to Bucky each night. You could’ve shared a home with him. Kissed him good morning each time the sun rose. And the engagement ring- albeit a smaller one- resting on your finger would’ve been from Bucky.

But it was too late now, wasn’t it? There was too much pain, too much hurt. And you were very much so engaged. Hell, you and Bucky were standing in the front yard of the house you shared with your soon-to-be husband. But Bucky had to ask, didn’t he? He had to dig deeper, to find the truth.

And after he’d failed to acknowledge your truth last time, he wasn’t going to do it again.

Knots twisted around in his stomach. His lungs failed to expand all the way. But he needed to know. “Do you still-

“Yes.” You didn’t hesitate. Didn’t leave even a sliver of room for doubt. “I still love you.”

Bucky said nothing. He simply drank in the words. Replayed them in his mind. Relished in the sound of your voice- sober and steady- saying that you loved him. It was all he’d ever wanted.

But his silence pushed you to the precipice.

“So, um,” your hands shook. “What about you? Are you-”

Bucky almost laughed. “Oh, come on. Of course, I do- of course, I love you. What kind of question is that?” He shot you a wink.

There it was- his truth laid out before you. And to think, you’d dreaded this night for weeks. Dreaded celebrating your engagement to Cole. Dreaded answering questions about your impending wedding. And now, the love you’d hoped for, the love you’d always wanted, laid perfectly spelled out for you in the grass. Somehow, the party celebrating your engagement to another man provided the perfect venue for Bucky to bare his soul.

And while the two of you relished in the others’ words of love, uncertainty still filled the air. Bucky stood firm on his side of the lawn, and you yours. This wasn’t a perfectly scripted episode of sitcom, there weren’t people telling you what to say. What to do next. Your shared predicament was messy and awkward. And though you didn’t have a director telling you how to act, you knew your neighbors were entertained.

“So, what do we…” Bucky shoved his hands into his pockets. “What do we do now? You’re supposed to marry someone else. Your house is full of people celebrating your engagement. And-”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence.

You pursued him across the lawn, stalking toward him until your lips crushed his. Instantly, his hands found your waist and pulled you tighter. Your hands slid up his chest, over his shoulders, and buried themselves in his hair. The chill in the air fell away. The noise of the party evaporated. Nothing existed outside of this moment, this kiss. Bucky snaked his arms around your back, encircling you completely. He wasn’t going to let you slip away. Not again.

But an errant sound from inside the house made a grab for his attention. And suddenly, the stark reality of the situation hit him like a train.

He pulled away ever so slightly, only allowing a few millimeters between his lips and yours. His gaze landed on the packed house, “Someone might see us-”

“I don’t care.” You gave his hair a gentle tug and closed the gap between you. Now that you’d finally tasted his lips, you didn’t want to spend a moment without them. Ever.

And while Bucky wanted only this- only you- for the rest of his life, his anxiety needled at him as it always did. He did his best to swat his worries away and devote his focus to you and only you, but he couldn’t fight it. He had to tell you, had to clarify.

Again, he pulled away.

“But you know I can’t- I can’t give you the things he can give you. You know that right?” He searched your face for any hint of realization. Any flicker of regret. “I mean, the big diamond ring, and the fancy wedding, and the house. I don’t want you to be disappointed, I don’t want you to-”

And again, you cut him off. Your mouth melted against his, hell bent on consuming him right then and there.

“Buck, I don’t want any of that,” you finally said when you came up for air. “I want you. That’s it.”

And there it was- Bucky’s confirmation that you wanted him for him. That you didn’t care about his small, shabby apartment. Or his lack of funds. That you loved him for who he was, not what he could gift you.

“And honestly, all the fancy stuff isn’t really my vibe,” you shrugged. “I mean, I’m not really the type to play tennis at the country club. And I don’t use ‘summer’ as a verb.”

Bucky’s laughed boomed through the yard. It cut through the noise and chatter of the party and made you feel more at home than you ever did in this godforsaken house.

“So, do you want to make a run for it?” Bucky asked between long, deep kisses. “If we go now, I don’t think they’ll catch us.”

It was enticing. The thought of absconding with Bucky set you alight from the inside out. All you could think about was spending the night in his bed, wearing his clothes as pajamas, and then ditching them entirely for a night of passionate debauchery.

But there would be plenty of time for the two of you to make your escape- after you carried out the plan forming on the outskirts of your mind.

“I say, we run- but not quite yet,” you told him. “I think you give me a few minutes inside so I can snag a couple bottles of champagne and some of that fancy whiskey Cole’s dad brought by. And then we jump in the getaway car and run like hell. How does that sound?”

How could Bucky possibly say no to that? He watched with bated breath as you snuck back into the house and hoped to god that no one noticed your return.

And his prayers were answered. Everyone was so drunk, so distracted by the music and the lights, that they didn’t even glance in your direction.

A quick trip to your room allowed you the opportunity to rid yourself of Cole’s ring. Sure, it was beautiful. And sure, Cole was a nice guy. But you didn’t want it, didn’t want to be shackled to him for the rest of your life. You slid the ring from your finger and instantly felt the weight of the world fall from your shoulders. It was the most instantaneous relief you’d ever felt- aside from kissing Bucky for the first time. You tucked the ring safely into the drawer of your nightstand and told yourself you’d return it to Cole tomorrow.

Tonight, you had more pressing matters to attend to. You snaked down the hall to the kitchen, undetected by the raucous partygoers. And without drawing any attention to yourself, you snaked two bottles of champagne out of their ice bath and tucked a nice vintage whiskey under your arm. If you and Bucky were going to celebrate, you were going to do it in style.

With the alcohol safely cradled in your arms, you made a mad dash for the front door. But just as you turned the handle, the sensation of someone watching you gave you pause. Slowly, you turned around, fearing that you’d find Cole’s confused, heartbroken gaze staring back at you. Instead, it was Nat who’d caught you in the act.

She gave you a wicked smile and mouthed “I told you so” from across the room. And with a sweeping gesture, she urged you to “go, go, go!” She didn’t have to tell you twice. Quick as a flash, you escaped out the door and sprinted down the porch steps.

Bucky paced up and down the front walk, waiting for your return. Part of him feared that you might not return from your trip inside. Maybe you’d change your mind about the whole thing. Maybe you’d decide to stay with Cole. But the way you tore down the front steps and launched yourself into his arms quieted his anxieties.

He took your face in his hands and captured your lips with his. “You got the goods?”

Your laugh vibrated against Bucky’s lips, “I don’t know about you, but I think stolen champagne tastes better.”

"That's my girl."

Bucky snaked an arm around your back and ushered you across the yard, out the front gate, and across the street to his car. He stole the booze from your grasp and placed the bottles gently in the back seat. And once he ensured that the alcohol you worked so hard to pilfer would make it home safe, he turned his attention to you.

His hands slid over your hips and traced up your spine, sending goosebumps over your skin. His mouth met yours in a kiss full of love and desperation. Longing and need. This was what you’d always wanted. What you’d begged the universe for. What you’d cried and agonized over. And now it was yours- Bucky was yours.

He pulled away only a fraction of an inch, “You ready to go, baby?”

“Get me outta here, Buck.”

------------------------------------

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atomicami · 9 months

Text

vengeance.

roommate!abby anderson x fem!reader

- summary: you’re tired of dealing with your boyfriend’s awful habits. when he ends up crossing the line with you one day, you decide to get back at him, and your not-so-innocent roommate has the perfect way to do it.

- content: smut MDNI, no outbreak/modern au, reader and abby are roommates, reader has a shitty boyfriend, slight mentions of alcohol consumption and partying, infidelity/cheating, sex tape/amateur porn, kinda roughdom!abby, strap usage (r!receiving), abby referring to the strap as her cock, slight choking, daddy kink, abby hits it from the back, oral & fingering (r!receiving), pussy slapping, squirting, aftercare at the end ofc

- author’s note: hi everyone!! so i decided to do my very first collab with none other than the amazingly talented @whore4abby, i’m so grateful to have done this with you!!

also, consider this fic as our 1k special from us to you. thank you so much for all the love and support you’ve given to the both of us 🤍 we hope you enjoy it!!

you don’t really know how you got yourself to this point.

well, you do, actually…but you didn’t know how this could have possibly escalated so fast.

it was just a silly little conversation at first. you were simply venting to your roommate, abby about your boyfriend for what was probably the millionth time now.

“ugh, i just can’t believe him!” you exclaimed to her as you frantically paced around your room. “i told him to make the best impression to meet my parents last weekend and what does he do?! he shows up to the restaurant thirty minutes late smelling like alcohol. how can he be so…so inconsiderate?!”

you’ve been in an on-again, off-again relationship with your boyfriend for about a year now. everything went fine with the two of you at first, but now it somehow just progressed to where you both can’t even make it a week without breaking up.

abby is sat at the foot of your bed, nodding in acknowledgement as you continued to ramble to her about your asshole boyfriend. you truly couldn’t ask for a better friend like her to listen to all of your problems about this, because unlike abby, you knew that anyone else you might know couldn’t withstand having to hear about the same person every damn day of the week.

“i seriously think i’m gonna break up with him now, for good this time.” you tell her with confidence.

abby lets out a sigh and rolls her eyes at your statement. “isn’t that what you said the last fifteen times though?” she asked, further manspreading on your bed before pulling her phone out of her pocket to scroll through it.

“i know, i know,” you said, continuing to pace around your room. “he’s done so much stupid shit lately, but this is honestly the final straw for me. who knows how much worse he could get if i—“

“hey, um…you might wanna see this.” abby says, showing you her phone screen. “isn’t that him?”

“what? what are you—“ your words drift off for a moment. you take a step towards her to take a closer look at her phone. it was an instagram story that her friend manny had posted, containing a video of some frat party happening right now and you could visibly see a girl grinding and making out with your boyfriend, clear as day.

now that was really the last straw for you.

“that asshole…” you mutter quietly to yourself as you watched the story again.

to be honest, you weren’t even that upset about it. well, you were, but not to where you’d be in tears crying over him. but rather, you had an urge to try to get back at him somehow. you wanted to retaliate against him. you wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine.

you wanted to give him vengeance.

“i seriously can’t believe him right now,” you tell abby again as you hand the phone back to her. “you know, i’m not even upset that he cheated on me, i just…” you pause for a moment to take a deep breath. “i just wish i could get back at him, give him some sort of payback you know?”

“yeah, i get you.” abby replies before looking back down at her phone. “you know…i think i might have an idea to get back at him…show that asshole what he’s missing…” she said, flipping her phone around to eye at the camera for a moment before looking back up at you.

“really?” you asked, raising an eyebrow in curiosity as you took another step towards her. “i’m down for whatever, what did you have in mind?”

˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ ✧ ˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ ˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ ✧ ˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ ˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ ✧ ˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ ˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ ✧ ˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚

and that’s how you got to where you were now, as if it had happened in a matter of seconds.

“c’mon, baby… look at the camera for me.” abby murmured to you from behind.

you laid at the center of your bed, bare body sprawled out with your ass up and abby’s thick, black strap nestled deep inside your wet cunt.

you didn’t want to admit it, but the stretch that abby’s cock had in you was overbearing. you really thought you’d take it, you told her so yourself. but now that you were feeling every single inch inside you, from base to tip—you were very, very wrong. you’re trying as best as you can to follow abby’s commands, but the immense length and girth of her strap has you feeling dizzy.

one of her hands reaches down under your stomach and makes its way up to your neck. “you really want me to repeat myself right now, princess?” she says in a firm tone, keeping her grip on your neck. “i said, look at the camera for me.”

“oh, fuck—“ you whimper to yourself as chills start to go through your spine. your whole body is fucking trembling and abby still has yet to move her cock inside you.

you try to lift your head up, looking straight into the camera on abby’s phone that was currently propped up in front of the two of you, the most dumbfounded expression was stricken on your face at the moment. you were already so cockdrunk and it clearly shows.

“atta girl…would you look at that?” abby says, looking into the camera with you as well. “see how pretty your girlfriend looks on my cock? she’s already drunk and i haven’t even started moving yet…not so bad for a girl if i do say so myself.” she continues narrating into the camera. “i’ll show you how it’s really done, yeah?”

and with that she began to start moving, painfully slow to say the least. you felt her hand let go of its grip on your neck and move to your hip, gripping it tightly as she kept slowly thrusting her cock inside you.

“you like that, princess? like how my cock feels inside you?” she asks in between her thrusts.

you end up mumbling something into the sheets, and abby could’ve sworn that you were calling her a name. her hand quickly returns back to your neck, lifting you up and pulling you back towards her as she kept her cock inside you. “what did you just call me? tell me what you just said.” she says in a stern tone, slowly tightening her grip on your neck.

“f-feels so good, d-daddy…” you slur out to her, eyes rolling to the back of your head as the tip of the strap gently presses against your g spot.

the smirk on abby’s face grew wider as she heard you call her that name. it was like music to her ears, and she couldn’t help but play along with it. “yeah? does it feel good, princess? does daddy’s cock feel good inside that little pussy of yours?” she asks, receiving a whiny nod from you in response.

abby looks into the camera and lets out a quiet groan at the sight of the two of you on her phone screen. “oh fuck, you’re not wrong…let’s take a closer look there, shall we?” she says, keeping your body up against hers with one hand as she moves forward and grabs her phone with the other. you look down as she brings the front camera down to both of your lower bodies where the strap was connecting it. now keeping her bicep firm on your upper body, she snakes her hand down to your gushing pussy, spreading its puffy lips open with two fingers in front of the camera.

“would you look at that…” she murmurs, bringing the camera closer. “that pussy’s practically crying all over my cock. does he ever get you this wet, princess?”

“n-no…” you whine out, shaking your head. “he doesn’t…”

“oh, poor thing…” she murmurs from behind, reaching down to rub your throbbing clit. “seems like you need daddy to take care of you, yeah?”

“y-yes, daddy, please…n-need you to fuck me…”

abby gently lowers you back down onto your bed before setting her phone back to its original spot, screen still fixed on the both of you. she places a hand onto each of your hips, gripping them tightly as she begins to slowly thrust her cock into your pussy.

as abby began to fuck you, you were now buried into the sheets again, releasing muffled moans and whines with every thrust of abby’s hips. in that moment, your boyfriend, and all of the fights and encounters you’ve had with him were the last things on your mind. you didn’t care about him. you didn’t even care about the video, knowing that he’ll be watching it soon. all that was on your mind now was abby and the large piece of black silicone stretching you open.

“does that feel good, baby?” she asks, slowly speeding up her pace. “c’mon baby, why don’t you tell him how it feels?”

you muster up the energy to at least turn your head to the side to respond. “f-feels amazing, daddy…b-best cock i’ve ever had…” you slur back to her, eyes fluttering shut in pleasure as you fist the sheets tightly.

“you hear that?” she says into the camera. “it’s not even real, yet it’s the best cock she’s ever had…bet it’s bigger than whatever you have going on down there too…”

you continue to whine into the sheets, weakly pushing your hips back against abby’s cock as a sign for her to speed it up. “f-faster daddy…p-please…” you whine out to her.

abby looks back down to what was below her, that same smirk growing onto her freckled face once again. “would you look at that, she’s already so eager for more…” she murmurs to herself, tightening her grip onto your hips as she began to thrust into you faster than before.

“oh f-f-fuck—“ you moan out, turning your head back to see her and watching her smirk get bigger again as she admires your drunk, fucked out expression. “don’t look at me now…” she tells you before pointing at her phone. “look at the camera. look at him. tell him how good i’m fucking you.”

despite how heavy your eyelids were getting, you try to keep your vision straight, looking into the camera for as long as you could. “s-s-she’s fucking me s-so good…b-better than y-you…” you slur out into the camera before letting your head drop back down into the sheets.

“you hear that? i’m a better fuck to her than you’ll ever be.” she narrates to the camera, still continuing her fast thrusts inside you. “can’t believe you’re letting a girl beat you at your own game, man.”

it didn’t take long for that feeling to build up inside you. abby had only been fucking you for less than five minutes, and you were already about to cum now.

“a-abby, fuck—g-gonna cum n-now…” you whimper out to her, bringing a trembling hand to hold hers from behind. abby instantly swats your hand away and brings her hand down to your ass to slap it, the sting causing you to flinch a bit. “that’s not my name, princess. you wanna try that again?” she asks you, still not stopping her fast pace.

“fuck, daddy!” you exclaimed, tightening your grip on the sheets to stabilize yourself. “p-please daddy…n-need to cum so bad…”

“there we go, that sounds better now…” she replies, looking back to the camera before back down at you. “go ahead, babygirl…cum for daddy.”

your grip gets even tighter on the sheets, and your cunt begins to clench down hard on the strap before cumming with a loud muffled moan, completely coating abby’s black strap with your release.

“holy fuck…” abby groans out from behind, now slowing down her pace. without pulling out just yet, she leans over to grab her phone, stopping the video and flipping the camera to the back to record a new one. “would you look at that…” she murmurs, zooming in on your lower body, particularly on the white ring that was being formed on her strap.

she then points the camera to the very back of you where your pussy was before slowly pulling her strap out of your fucked out cunt. abby lets out another groan as she watches your pussy clench and spill out your thick release, quickly running two of her fingers over it to pick it up. you whimper and whine due to the sensitivity from her thick fingertips, but you still oblige and let her do it.

“look how fucking good this pussy looks…” abby murmurs to the camera. “you know, i heard her tell me that you refuse to eat her out…” she says, pausing for a moment to suck her fingers clean before continuing. “you’re definitely a fucking idiot, to say the least. who wouldn’t want to get a taste of this sweet girl?”

you hear abby stop the recording on her phone, letting out a breath of relief as you set the rest of your body back down onto the bed. you’re already fucked out as is, and you feel the slumber slowly starting to take over you.

however, you didn’t get to have much of it now that abby has shaken you awake again. “lie back on the bed, i’m not done with you just yet.”

“w-what?” you say weakly, fully blinking your eyes open. “i-isn’t that one enough already?” you ask, pointing to her phone.

abby shakes her head in response. “nope, we still have one more video to make…and you’re holding the camera this time.”

˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ ✧ ˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ ˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ ✧ ˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ ˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ ✧ ˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ ˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ ✧ ˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚

you take the phone into your shaky hands, almost dropping it in the process before steadying it, abby's eyes practically burning through the camera lens as you angle your phone to film her between your legs, she slaps her hand against your folds and you whine out her name, "keep it fuckin’ steady, you hear me?"

your grip tightens on the phone and you try to keep it as steady as possible as she connects her warm mouth onto your clit, flicking her tongue up and down it a couple times, before drawing back and looking into the camera. "you see what you're missing out on, huh?" she tsks and shakes her head slightly. you draw your bottom lip between your teeth as she sinks back between your legs.

she presses her tongue to your sensitive folds as she messily kisses and licks at your pussy, groaning as she tastes you. her fingertips find your clit, rubbing circles over it as she slurps up your juices. the phone starts to slip from your grasp and abby shakes her head mockingly, slapping her hand straight down onto your pussy, fingertips smacking at your clit cruelly. "i'm not telling you again, keep that camera on me or imma keep slapping this pussy." she drawls, voice low and demanding as her gaze shifts from the camera lens to look straight into your half-lidded eyes. her stern tone has you nodding your head immediately in fear of another sharp slap.

her fingers start to slide into your entrance, slick squelching around them as she thrusts them in and out. her lips move up to suck at your swollen clit, with more purpose this time around as she feels you clenching around her fingers. "lemme hear you baby. c'mon, let it out. let him hear how good i'm making you feel." she whispers, thrusting her fingers in and out faster. she lifts her head and smirks up at you, clearly waiting for you to cum for her.

your back arches up into her and her free hand slides between your legs, roughly rubbing your wet folds as her tongue flutters over your clit, bringing you over the edge. your thighs tremble as they clamp around her blonde head which gives her no other option than to keep her head buried between your legs, sucking on your clit as you ride out your high and start to cum on her face.

her fingers continue to plunge in and out of you at practically record speed, fingertips curling against every inch of your g-spot and without warning, a stream of juices spurts from your pussy to soak her fingers and her face. she slides her fingers from your entrance, holding them up for you to see that they're covered in your juices, glistening in the light.

"look at the mess you made." she chuckles as she looks up and notices the look of absolute shock on your face as you realise what just happened.

"never done that before, huh?" she raises an eyebrow. "nuh uh." you pant out, feeling the need to pinch yourself as there is absolutely no way in hell she just made you squirt. "he's never made me do that....like ever." you giggle.

your head is still reeling as she lays you comfortably up against the pillows before she quickly fetches a washcloth from the en-suite bathroom. she returns less than a minute later, warm washcloth in hand, and starts to clean you up between your legs doting to your every need and want so soothingly, kissing at your thighs and stomach sporadically whilst doing so.

she eventually lends you one of her t-shirts to wear, gently holding your arms above your head, the soft material grazing against your skin. she climbs into bed beside you, the two of you bundled up under the thick sheets, snuggled up into her arms as your scroll through the footage taken on your phone. abby rubs her hand up your spine softly before pulling you tightly against her as she smirks at you, "gimme his number, i wanna send the footage to him."

you giggle and hand her your phone as she quickly copies down his phone number from your contacts into her own with a couple taps of her screen before opening up a text conversation with the new contact. she attaches the videos and starts to type out a message which reads:

"took care of your girl for you tonight...looks like she likes me better, don't you think?"

you shake your head and give her a little amused smile as you see the sheer look of smugness filling her flushed face, "that'll fuckin’ teach him." before pressing send and placing her phone face down on the bed in front of you.

it’s safe to say that thanks to abby’s bright idea, you were successfully able to give your boyfriend the vengeance that he deserved after all. as abby pulls you in closer to her chest, you get the feeling that this won’t be the last time you’ll do this with her.

and by the looks of it, you’ve found a new habit of your own to enjoy too.

2K notes · View notes

yeoobiii · 2 months

Note

hello, can I ask you to write a mini story about Heeseung, where he teaches Y/n how to kiss 🙏🏻

⋆｡°✩ 𝙛𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙤𝙬 𝙢𝙮 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙙

꩜ bestfriend!heeseung x gn!reader

꩜ best friends to lovers (?), first kisses

꩜ during a game of truth or dare you admit to all your friends for the first time that you've never been kissed and that you're frankly scared you'll mess up once the situation presents itself. Heeseung sees a perfect opportinity to help you out with that.

or: Heeseung teaches his best friend how to kiss and both of you get a bit lost in it

wc: 5.1k (this has gotten a bit longer than I intended to but honestly I just went with the flow and here we are.)

warnings: consumption of alcohol

a/n: thank you for the request, anon! btw requests are open if you'd like me to write something specific, I can't promise you anything on how quickly I'll get it done or if it's something I'm up to writing but like the link is in my bio :)

I hope you like this, anon!

There’s a few things none of your college friends knew about you. Despite knowing most of them for over three years now, some things just never came up naturally in conversation. Like the fact that you’ve not had your first kiss yet.

Why make a big deal out of it? You’ve also never been in love before. You didn’t feel the urge to inform everyone about these things, especially since most of your friends have a rather active dating life. You wanted to do these things at your own pace and didn’t want anyone involved in how you could “solve that problem”. You simply never intended on telling them. That is until last weekend happened and somehow your roommates were able to convince you to participate in a game of truth or dare.

It was a Thursday night and your roommate told you that they were having a few friends over for a cozy hang out and you were definitely down to chill with them because the both of you were friends with similar people and got along great in general, so having a few drinks with your friends in your dorm room seemed like a nice way to spend the evening.

And everything went smoothly enough, people were trickling in and out, the overall vibe very casual and comfortable. That is however until your friend Sofia suggested a game of truth or dare. To be fair, the overall intake of alcohol increased as the evening was progressing. It was almost inevitable that a suggestion like that would arouse sooner or later.

Before you even properly thought about it, you agreed to play and sat down in a circle with around five other tipsy college students.

Only later on did your brain register that Heeseung was one of the few chosen ones. For a split second you even wondered when he had arrived, but then you remembered that he greeted you with a friendly embrace when he first arrived about half an hour ago.

Technically, there was nothing wrong with him participating in the same game, the both of you were friends after all.

You met Heeseung pretty much the first day college started, you were both in stats together and happened to be sitting next to each other on the first day and it’s been like that ever since. However, you guys didn’t hit it off right away, you were friendly with each other, sure, but that mostly also out of convenience and occasionally you shared your notes with each other or he was making sure you didn’t fall asleep in class. It was all really casual and you would have considered him more like a colleague than a friend.

That was the case until one particular night that was destined to shape the kind of friendship the two of you would have with each other forever.

It was one of your first frat parties, the first semester was about to end and freshmen with various kinds of majors gathered to celebrate this collective milestone. Safe to say the liquor was being poured without much hesitation.

It wasn’t the first time you’ve run into Heeseung at a frat party either. Usually you’d shoot each other the occasional nod, acknowledging the other’s presence and moving on with your night and that’s all there was to it.

However, fate had other plans for this particular night.

At one point you excused yourself from the dance floor and went out the back door into the small garden to catch some fresh air, to your surprise not many people were out there, just you and a small group of three people maybe, who seemed to be passing around a blunt.

It took you a second glance to not only see your roommate but also Heeseung being part of that group, your roommate immediately greeting you enthusiastically upon locking eyes with you and beckoning for you to sit with them.

Shortly after you were sitting on your ass, your roommate's arm interlocked with yours, being pulled into the conversation easily.

Heeseung sent a brief smile of acknowledgement your way, before taking a hit from the joint. You returned his smile and also greeted the fourth person sitting with you who was eventually introduced as Heeseung’s friend Jake.

The joint was being passed around and eventually landed in your hand as well and afterwards the conversation seemed to flow effortlessly. You joked and laughed along to whatever your company was saying but were also emerged in the more heated discussions.

At one point you were so deep into the conversation with Jake that you didn’t even realize your roommate getting up and going back inside and like ten minutes later, Jakes excused himself to the bathroom and didn’t seem to return anymore.

Which only left Heeseung and you.

Now, you’d be lying if you’d say being in such close proximity with a cute guy like Heeseung, all by yourselves in this somewhat intimate setting left you completely unaffected. You could feel yourself growing slightly flustered at nothing in particular, but you eventually catched yourself when Heeseung asked.

“So, what’s your favorite dinosaur?”

You fell into comfortable conversation after that and the longer the night went on, the more intense the topics got.

Whenever you think back to that one particular part of the evening it kinda feels like Heeseung and you were the only two things existing at the moment. Your brain didn’t register the people stepping in and out of the garden as the hours passed by.

It was well past 3am when you checked your phone for the time since sitting down. You told Heeseung and he was just as shocked as you were at how quickly the time had passed, almost apologizing for taking up so much of your time, but you assured him you were enjoying yourself.

“It has been a while since I sat down like that and was able to talk to someone for hours about whatever popped into my head.” You admitted to him and he seemed satisfied with that judging by the smile that graced his lips.

“Me too.”

And you could swear by the way his eyes shimmered in that moment that there was something – whatever that may have been – between the both of you. Or maybe it was just the weed.

Regardless of what you guys shared was something different than what you thought it might have been, you grew close very quickly after that evening. Heeseung started to joke around with you in class, you eventually asked him for his number and social media, he started sending you memes occasionally, you started to hang out outside of class in your little friend group.

At one point you were convinced he was actively seeking you out at parties, because ever since that evening, you always bumped into each other sooner or later during the night.

And whatever there might have been that one evening, nothing came of it. However, it almost seemed like you grew closer to Heeseung than all your other friends. People in your friend group would casually call you best friends and the more time passed the more that statement became true.

All occurrences in the past have led you to playing truth or dare on a Thursday night on the floor of your dorm room with each other. And usually that wouldn’t be an issue. Heeseung and you have progressed to a stage in your friendship where you knew almost everything about each other; almost.

You could feel the alcohol running in your system and were sincerely hoping you wouldn’t say something that you’d eventually regret. You just crossed your fingers and hoped for the best.

For the most part the game did run smoothly, it was fun and you had a good time, the only dare you had to do was show them your most embarrassing dance move.

That is until your roommate asked you truth or dare.

“Truth” you chose this time

“What was your first kiss like and who was it with?”

The question in and of itself was harmless, it matched the vibe of the very easy going game they had going on, Nonetheless, you felt put on the spot and before you could stop yourself – because you can’t pull off a lie for the life of you – you blurt out that you’ve never been kissed.

None of your friends seemed super unfazed by this seeing how you’ve not dated one person since you started college but Sofia’s eyes grew double in size.

“Not even a peck on the lips or something?” she questioned a bit bewildered.

You just shook your head, seeing from the corner of your eye how your roommate gave Sofia a light nudge at even asking such a question.

You couldn’t help but risk a short glance at Heeseung and were almost a bit startled when his eyes met yours instantly. He sent you a soft smile upon locking eyes with you. Was that pity you saw in his eyes? Your stomach turned itself upside down.

You really wish you could say it didn’t bother you at all, that at the age of 21 you’ve never kissed someone before. You didn’t want it to be a big deal, it really shouldn’t be a big deal.

But you couldn’t help but think that you lacked something or were one step behind everyone. It felt like missing out on an experience that usually people have in their late teens and early twenties.

You don’t know why it hasn’t happened for you yet. It’s not even that you want it to be with someone really special, the moment has simply never presented itself before and you usually take this for what it is, but right now – Heeseung’s expression burned into your skull – you suddenly feel a bit small.

“It’s not just that” you eventually start to break the silence, not yet realizing that you were about to make this so much worse, “it’s also the fact that even if I’d want to kiss someone, I wouldn’t know how.”

It took your drunken mind a hot minute to catch up with what you just said. Something within you simply wanted to fill the silence but the fact that your filter was basically non-existent due to your tipsy state was not taken into consideration the moment you opened your mouth.

You mentally slapped yourself across the face, this time not having the courage to even glance into Heeseung’s direction.

“It’s not that hard, I can show you!” Your roommate offered enthusiastically, intentions pure.

Your face flushed at the suggestion and you cringed a bit, more out of embarrassment that you ended up in this situation in the first place than by the proposal itself.

“I’ll let you know if I ever want to take you up on that suggestion.” You reply as nonchalantly as you can muster.

It’s not like the thought of asking a friend how to properly kiss has occurred to you before, but you could never quite bring yourself to get the request past your lips.

Your friends laugh at your response and easily move on with the conversation, taking the attention off of you. And that was that. Or at least that’s what you thought…

Two weeks later you enter the lecture hall and already spot Heeseung sitting in his usual spot and just like on autopilot you placed yourself next to him and the both of you exchanged greetings, just like you usually would. You’d also catch up about your weekends and shortly after the lecture started, taking up both of your attention.

It wasn’t until halfway through the lecture that Heeseung poked your shoulder, extending his notebook to you, clearly wanting to show you something.

With blue ink he has written on the page:

“You want me to teach you?”

Your eyebrows furrow, confused at what he meant.

You write down below him:

“Teach me what?” Confusion clear on your face as you watch him write something else.

“How to kiss”

You choked on your own spit.

Heeseung chuckled next to you. You could smack him across the head right now and you made a mental note to do just that once class is over.

Once you collected yourself, you took the pen from Heeseung and wrote three question marks under his proposal.

Why would he offer to teach you in the first place and out of all the places to suggest this to you he chose the middle of your lecture? Why?

He grinned at your question marks and if you didn’t know him any better you thought he was making fun of you. Had any other person done this to you, you’d probably actually have been hurt but first of all you still didn’t know if he was serious and second of all it was Heeseung. You knew him well enough to know he’d never use such a situation to make fun of you.

At that moment the professor seemed to notice your lack of attention and decided to ask you a question directly, returning your attention to the lecture where it stayed until you were dismissed.

The topic didn’t arise again between Heeseung and you even though the whole scenario didn’t seem to be able to leave your mind. At lunch you stared at Heesung making conversation with Jake over something you did not pay attention to, trying to figure him out.

In your head the puzzle pieces were just not fitting. Why would he suggest that all of a sudden? And why was it so hard for you to find an answer to his question…

After the whole frat party thing where you originally became friends, you had developed a small crush on Heeseung that gradually developed as time went by. It’s just after some time had passed and neither of you made any advances towards the other you eventually abandoned the idea of getting with Heeseung and were left with two options, getting over your crush or having to live with your unrequited feelings.

You chose the first option. It took you quite some time but you managed to accept the fact that Heeseung was simply a really good friend and your feelings faded as seasons changed.

You’d be lying saying they ever went away completely. There’s no reason denying that Heeseung was painfully your type and that no matter how hard you tried to tell yourself that you didn’t like him like that anymore, you were attracted to him.

So, saying his suggestion to teach you how to kiss took you by surprise was the understatement of the century.

He probably just tried to be a good friend, right? Your roommate had suggested to teach you as well back then and there were no other intentions behind that, you were certain of that. So, why are you questioning Heeseung so much?

The topic didn’t come up again until one day you were hanging out in your dorm room. Just your roommate, Heeseung and yourself. It was often like that, sometimes Jake was also around but today it was just the three of you, that is at least until your roommate told you that they were heading out for dinner at around six and didn’t know when they’d be back.

Once they left, it was just Heeseung and you left.

Ever since he made his suggestion in class, you dreaded being alone with him, because you didn’t know if the topic would come up again or if you even wanted it to.

Heeseung was lying on your bed, his feet resting on your lap, while you were sitting at the end of the bed, back resting against the wall. Heeseung was scrolling through his phone when you decided to address the elephant in the room, because you figured if he wasn’t the one to bring it up, why shouldn’t you?

“Were you serious?” you simply said, not in any particular tone, just wanting to clear the haze in your head.

“Do you mean about the kissing thing?” He said without looking away from his face. The fact that he instantly knew what you were talking about indicated enough that he was aware it’s been eating at you.

You nod.

He locked his phone and threw it to the side, moving to sit up and also lean his back against the wall so that he can face you.

“I was and I still am.” He said, no trace of irony to be found.

“Why?” You couldn’t help but ask.

He shrugged his shoulders, “It seemed like it bothered you that day. You know, when you told everyone how you’re scared you’d mess up if it comes down to the real thing?”

He teased at you being so open due to liquid courage, a small smile forming on his face as you rolled your eyes at him.

“I was put on the spot and that was the only thing my brain provided at the moment to fill the silence.” You whine more frustrated with yourself than anyone else.

“So, you’re not worried about that?” He asked in return.

It was silent for a moment as you contemplated his question. You could easily dig yourself a way out of this by denying it, convincing him it was mainly the liquor talking. But you and Heeseung were never really the type to lie to each other.

“I am” you eventually admit, not meeting his eyes “I don’t know… It’s a bit silly but like I don’t know anyone my age who hasn’t been kissed before and I feel like it’s gonna be really awkward if the situation arises and I chicken out because I have no idea how to actually kiss someone.”

Heeseung listened to you and took your words in before answering.

“But you know, most first kisses are kinda awkward, I think.”

“Was your first kiss weird at all?” You asked him.

“Yeah, very.” He chuckled, sitting up more on the bed, “it was kinda too much of everything, too much teeth, too much spit, just entirely too much.”

He shuddered a bit, recollecting his first kiss.

“See? And I’d have no idea about any of that.” You said almost a bit frustrated.

“Then let me show you.” He insisted, your eyes meeting.

The way he says it so casually makes you want to rip your hair out.

“It’s just a kiss, right? And it’s me! You don’t have to be embarrassed with me.” He said, eyebrows slightly raised, trying to ease your mind.

You look at him. He looks cozy in his oversized sweatshirt, his body language his usual relaxed self. It was still a bit fascinating how he could take this all so lightly but then again, it really was just a kiss for him.

And you know you shouldn’t. You shouldn’t kiss Heeseung. In fact, your head is screaming at you not to kiss him, because the risk of buried feelings resurfacing is simply too big. But you’d also be lying to yourself if you’d say you weren’t curious what his lips would feel like against yours and it were thoughts like this that’d mean certain doom for you sooner or later.

At your silence Heeseung added “Look, there’s really no pressure at all. I just thought maybe you’d like to know a few things that will help ease your mind, but of course you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

And of course he would say that. Of course he’d go out of his way to reassure you that you’re safe with him and that he respected your choice no matter what. Maybe sharing your first kiss with Heeseung wasn’t that bad of an idea after all. At least like that you could make sure it’s someone who respects you and your boundaries, someone who makes sure you feel safe and comfortable no matter what.

Maybe you could allow yourself this. Maybe having this as the memory of your first kiss wasn’t too bad.

“Like, right now?” You asked, which seemed to surprise Heeseung a little. He must have been convinced you’d turn him down.

“I mean, whenever is fine.” He responded suddenly you could see his cool demeanor crack, spotting a few hints of nervousness behind the cracks.

“I think, I’d be down.” You eventually say after contemplating for another minute.

“Really?” Heeseung’s eyebrows were almost at his hairline.

“Lee Heeseung, if you tell me right now that all of this has been a sick joke of yours after all, I’m ending this friendship right now.”

Panic flashed in his eyes.

“No! No, of course not. I was being serious. I just didn’t think…. I didn’t think you’d agree.” he admitted.

“So, how does this work?” you ask, not knowing where to even start.

“Oh, so you really want to do it right now, I see.” Heeseung mumbled more to himself than anyone in particular.

He scooted slightly closer to you.

“Well, first we gotta get closer.” He moves to sit next to you on the bed, shoulders touching.

You watch him, fascinated at how quickly his shyness has been replaced by his cool, nonchalant demeanours once again.

Heeseung and you have cuddled on more than one occasion before, but this feels different, you’re hyper aware of the place where his shoulder is bumping into yours and your tights are touching. This close, you could smell his cologne and shampoo.

“It’s not that complicated really” he starts explaining.

“If you want to just have a small, simple kiss. We’d both tilt our heads slightly as we get closer. Let me show you.”

He turns towards you, his eyes meeting yours. And you could swear there it was again. That shimmer from the first night the both of you actually talked to each other. You push that thought to the back of your head, the indications behind that too overwhelming for what’s about to happen right now.

His hand hovers above your cheek and you nod, allowing him to gently grab you by the jaw and tilt your head into one direction. The distance between his and your face shrinks as he does so, the pace of your heartbeat picking up in the process.

You could feel his breath against your lips as he spoke again.

“This is usually the point most people close their eyes and then you just… kiss.”

You close your eyes and a moment later you felt the sensation of Heeseung’s lips softly pressing against yours. All thoughts seem to leave your head the instant your lips touched, your heart basically beating out of your chest. It took you a moment to actually process the sensation and just as you were about to lose yourself in the feeling, Heeseung pulled back slightly.

“You know, this is the part where you kiss me back.” He chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down your spine and maybe it was all in your head but you could swear his voice sounded different then just a second ago; a bit deeper, maybe even a bit flustered.

“My bad” you said, making Heeseung throw his head back with laughter, making you giggle as well.

It eases your anxiety a bit that even in stations like this, you were able to just laugh with him and easing the tension so easily.

“No worries” he laughed “Wanna try again?”

Again?

What did he mean again? Wasn’t that it?

Despite yourself, you nod.

“Okay, this time make sure to reciprocate the pressure I put against your lips, got it?”

“Got it” you kept your replies fairly short, afraid your voice would fail you otherwise.

Before you knew it, Heeseung was leaning in again.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

You close your eyes and soon after you feel the now familiar pressure of his lips again, this time making sure to kiss him back. Without thinking about it, your hand found its way onto Heeseung’s neck, where your fingers absentmindedly played with hair as you were kissing him.

This kiss lasted longer than the first one, you could feel Heeseung moving against you and followed his lead. It was easier to flow into the rhythm than you’d have thought, his lips soft and gentle against yours.

You were starting to feel lightheaded as he pulled away again and you had to resist the urge to chase after his lips.

“That was pretty good” he said, slightly out of breath, his pupils slightly dilated, his gaze fixed on your lips before he looked up at you.

“Also the thing you did with your hand, it seems like you’re a natural.” He chucked.

That’s when you saw your hand still resting against his neck, you instantly pulled it away once your brain caught up to what he was saying.

“Oh, I didn’t even realize…”

For a second there was a silence between the both of you; a silence that wasn’t quiet at all. You couldn’t seem to take your eyes off of him and neither could he. You could probably cut the tension with a knife.

“And what if… what if I’d want it to get more intense, you know?”

Heeseung’s eyebrows shot up.

“More intense?” He said, knowing very well what you were implying.

“I get how just kissing someone on the lips like that might not be that hard but what if– what if it goes further?”

Heeseung cleared his throat at your words and sat up straighter.

“You mean, if you would want to deepen the kiss?” He inquired.

You just nod, looking up at him, not failing to notice the light blush that’s starting to form on his cheeks, matching your own flusteredness.

“You want me to show you as well?”

You nod. Something about how his lips feel against yours was addictive, making you throw all your previous reservations out of the window.

“It’s kinda hard to explain though. I’d just have to show you?” He said, a bit unsure.

“That’s okay.”

“Okay so, basically you start with a kiss just like we shared before. You’ll just have to let me lead, okay?”

Something about the way he said that sent a shiver down your spine, words refusing to leave your mouth so you just nod.

Soon enough, his lips were on yours again and even though you were only separated for a few minutes, you already started to miss the sensation and the tingle it made you feel in your stomach and chest. Naturally, your hand found its way back into his hair.

Suddenly, you felt his tongue brush against your bottom lip and your heart took a leap. Instinctively, you opened your mouth for him. A few moments pass and he starts licking gently into your mouth.

You actively have to suppress sounds that were starting to build in the back of your throat at the sensation.

You could also feel one of his hands pressing against your waist while the other one was busy cupping your cheek.

Without much thinking you pressed forward, wanting to match his eagerness, which led to your teeth clinking against each other to which Heeseung pulled back slightly, chuckling.

“Take it slow, yeah?” He said, his face still incredibly close to yours.

As you nod at his remark he dives back in, taking you by surprise a bit. You were welcoming the touch of lips nonetheless.

This time you tried to dial down your eagerness and gently let his tongue guide yours, your insides turning into mush in the process.

Without thinking you slightly pulled at his hair, making him hum against your lips.

He must like that? you think to yourself.

Your stomach did a 360 at the thought of stirring him on further.

At this point your tongues were dancing with each other gently, no trance of any kind of hesitation left, the feeling leaving your head dizzy and your heart fluttering.

The way Heeseung kept pulling you in by your jaw and how his grip on your hip was getting tighter.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a really long time.” He suddenly blurts out in between kisses and if you wouldn’t be so lost in the feeling of his lips on yours you’d stop to question his statement, but right now your heart simply leaped in your chest.

Overcome by a sudden wave of braveness, you swung one of your legs across his lap, straddling him. Heeseung looked at you starstruck, his hands instantly finding their way to your hips caressing them.

You took the time to look at him for a moment, his pupils were practically blown out and he looked so pretty with kiss swollen lips, glistering with both of your spit.

This was the first time you initiated the kiss, he easily reciprocated.

The kisses were sometimes still a bit sloppy but neither you nor Heeseung seemed to care, too lost in the feeling of each other’s bodies pressed against each other.

His hands were traveling up your sides and down your tights again and you were drowning in this feeling, of his hands touching you; exploring you. Soon enough, him trying to teach you how to kiss turned into a full on make out session.

That was until your roommate burst into the room without any announcement, making you jump off of Heeseung in an instant, cursing your body for immediately missing his closeness.

You both looked guilty and flustered as your roommate looked the both of you up and down.

“My bad, I’m just here to grab my charger. Continue with what you’ve been doing. It was only a matter of time until this happened anyway.”

They said and were gone as quickly as they had arrived.

You and Heeseung looked at each other for a second. Both of you burst into laughter shortly after.

“I think at some point we should really have a conversation about what exactly this is between us.” He gestured between the both of you after recovering from the sudden interruption.

And you were glad he brought it up because you think your heart would have been shattered into a hundred pieces if this didn’t have the same effect on him as it had on you; making your stomach flutter, turning your insides into mush, craving more.

“Better sooner than later, right?” you smile at him, hope filling your heart.

feel free to let me know your thoughts <3

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pascalrps · 4 months

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*:･ﾟ✧ — plot idea dumpppp !!

childhood sweethearts (on the rocks)

a plot where muse a and muse b have been friends since childhood — here and there, they would have a one night stand, but never really allowed themselves to progress into anything more than just friends. now, as adults who are figuring out the dating scene isn’t as easy as their parents made it seem, muse a and muse b are seeing each other more and more frequently. eventually, muse a starts seeing someone new, and has less and less time for muse b. i’m talking jealousy, tension!!! muse b realizing maybe they’ve had feelings for muse a the whole time, muse a having to make tough decisions — either continue dating this new person or hurt muse b!!! i liiiiive for drama pls

childhood sweethearts (with a twist)

okay but a plot where close childhood friends reunite — except muse a was in love with muse b growing up, and muse b became muse a’s best friend’s high school sweetheart. muse a concealed their feelings for muse b all throughout their friendship, in high school & college, although both muses definitely had feelings & felt sparks for one another long before muse b started dating muse a’s best friend. despite the connection they’d felt, neither wanted to jeopardize any of the friendships between the three, and ultimately, muse b ended up married to muse a’s bff… except now, years later, muse a and muse b reunite at muse a’s best friend’s funeral. imagine the hurt of losing a loved one but having the comfort of yet another loved one?? blurred lines, tension, second-guesses…….

let me take care of you (southern charm)

okay so i’ve been kicking around a ranch hand plot where muse a is looking for help around the ranch they’ve just inherited due to a death in the family, and seeing as they’re just one person with lots of land, and virtually no knowledge on how to take care of it, it’s impossible to go it all on their own… enter muse b. muse b, a man who not only knows how to work the land but can take care of the ranch with ease, finds it impossible to not take care of muse a, while he's at it. just give me texan sunsets and lovers with low static music crooning in the background from some vinyl record please & ty

friends with benefits (with feelings)

a friends with benefits plot where muse a is dead-set, hellbent on not having a relationship and not getting too intimately involved with muse b; muse b has been in love with muse a for years, and muse a knows this, but still can’t bring themselves to get emotionally attached. i need tensionnnn and like, a lil toxicity ykwim??? for the angst omg

will you come find me (after the party?)

so hear me out — a plot where muse a and muse b met at a friend of a friend’s party & instantly hit it off. muse a is immediately infatuated with muse b — they laugh, talk, drink; they even make an incredible beer pong team. at some point during the night, muse a decides to put the moves on muse b. however, after leaving to get them some drinks, muse a comes back to find muse b kissing someone else… and to make it worse? it’s their boyfriend/girlfriend. tbh this plot could have the potential of a shakespearean comedy if we did it right akdjgh ok i'm talking messssssssyyyy

you feel like home (but i’ve got a different address)

okay so i need a tense plot where muse a and muse b are soulmates, beyond the shadow of a doubt — but muse a is married to a nightmare of a spouse. little by little, they spend more time together one on one, but it’s getting increasingly harder for muse b to see muse a with their spouse, especially knowing how that spouse treats muse a. idk this is a rough plot/work in progress plot but i feel like it has potential to go somewhere!!!

as always — send me over a private message if you're interested in writing up any of these bad boys !!

#wanted plots #wanted plot #plot bunny #mature rp #urban rp #plot ideas #roleplay plots #rp plots #discord 1x1 #1x1 roleplay #indie 1x1 #javirps

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feeder86 · 2 months

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Saint Scott

It was around Thanksgiving when Ben first had his suspicions that Scott wasn’t quite the angelic figure that he appeared to be. A face of porcelaine and a fine, toned body of a guy who had clearly never struggled to turn heads, Scott had been a favourite amongst every single group within the dorms. He was kind, thoughtful, dependable and caring. He never swore, nor had a bad word to say about anyone. It was no wonder that he had gotten away with it so well.

Scott’s girlfriend, Marie had clearly suffered, surprisingly rapidly, with the Freshman Fifteen. Even Ben, who had no interest in girls whatsoever, had noticed just how swollen and large the girl’s butt had become, almost overnight. Everyone had assumed it to be accidental and a consequence of college life. However, it was Scott’s hands that gave him away. Ben had stood behind them at a party and seen the way the saintly boy’s finger drifted and caressed those blubbery glutes. He’d spoonfed her ice cream and indulged her in any way he could. Then, when Marie had become conscious of her increasing size and joined the netball squad for exercise, Scott had finished with her within the week.

There was no doubt in Ben’s mind. Saint Scott was a feeder. All the evidence was there, despite the fact that Ben would often try to convince himself that he was wrong. After all, he was more interested in the world of feederism than most. It was the reason he had travelled so far away to go to college. For as much as Scott seemed to be harbouring a secret, so was Ben himself…

Ever since Ben could remember, he had wanted to grow his own fat belly. He didn’t know where the urge had come from or why it appealed to him more than anything else. It was the pinnacle of eroticism for him and something he knew he could not live his life without. Waiting until after high school had been a no brainer. There was no chance of him packing on any excess weight back at home. Ever since he was little, he had been ferried about from one extra-curricular sports club to another: basketball, swimming, karate, to name but a few. He had even taken on a couple more in the last year, knowing that his suddenly more sedentary lifestyle in college would be the perfect excuse for why people would start to see his transformation away from the fit jock he had always been.

Ben had started the moment he arrived in college. His first trip to the supermarket had been the cathartic moment he had dreamed about for months. Downing a carton of whipped cream upon his return to the dorm had made his dick harder than he had ever felt it and he came, gazing upon his fit physique bloating in the mirror. Since then, it hadn’t been as easy as he had hoped. The pounds had trickled on slowly and his quest to develop the appetite of an obese guy hadn’t been as automatic as he had hoped. Although his abs had been stubbornly difficult to erase, he did appear thicker in the middle and in his face. His pants had been growing tighter and so he knew that his butt and thighs had been swelling up.

However, with a shirt on, Ben felt like he had made no progress whatsoever. The guys who had heard of his sporting achievements were still nagging him to sign up at the Athletics Union and, despite the vast quantities of beer he had consumed on nights out, his stomach had still yet to pop out in the way he longed for.

“I hear Vimran is close to getting you to join the swim team?” Scott had teased Ben.

“Not a chance!” Ben had laughed back, throwing a beer down his throat.

“Why not?” Scott had asked in his usual, polite manner. “You don’t fancy being seen in just your swim trunks at the moment?”

Ben’s jaw had dropped. Had the tediously polite and wholesome Scott really just subtly fat-shamed him? His first ever comment about his additional pounds and there it was, rolling out of Scott’s mouth so carelessly. Ben felt a spark of energy captured in his lungs. This was every bit as exciting as he had imagined.

“What I mean is…” Scott fumbled, seeming to recognise his faux pas; his mind working a mile a minute. “...It’s winter, you don’t want to be getting into a cold swimming pool and freezing yourself to death.”

Ben smirked, It was a decent enough recovery, but he had decided to have none of it. “It’s all right,” he chuckled, patting his beer bloated middle. “I guess I would be a little more conscious in a speedo right now,” he smirked, lifting his shirt up to reveal his less defined stomach. “The Freshman Fifteen are definitely catching up to me,” he laughed, taking another sip of his beer and diving his hand into his bag of potato chips. He’d masturbated thinking about it later: his first time being called out for getting chubbier. However, one thing stood out more than anything. Once again, Scott was in the middle of it all.

Pants start to fit very differently once your butt gets some additional heft to it. Ben found he loved the way his sweatpants clung to the new shape, emphasising the fact that his slender, tight, glutes were undergoing a transformation. Once his six pack had been taken over, he could feel the beginnings of softness starting to form at his sides. He could take his fingers to them, poke and pinch, never failing to get himself aroused. This was happening. He was actually doing this, no matter how slow the progress was!

After the winter holidays, Scott had started dating again. Unsurprisingly to Ben, he had chosen a girl from his course: short, large-chested and with a butt at least as chubby as Marie’s had been before she cut down. People had raised their eyebrows in surprise, silently evaluating everyone and deciding that this new girl, Sam, was nearly not hot enough for a guy like Scott. Once again, Ben saw Scott’s drawer in the freezer start to fill with ice cream and sickly treats beginning to clog up the shelves of the refrigerator. The feeder was back to his old tricks, enveloping a naive Sam with his love, affection and pampering.

Ben often wondered just how Scott did it so effectively. Every pound Ben had gained had been hard fought for as he battled against his fast metabolism, yet Sam’s face seemed to be filling out in a matter of weeks. People began to complain about Scott’s absence, with the guys only ever seeing him at sports practice or when he was on his way to a class. Then there was Sam, who had never had many fans around the dorm, starting to take on even more criticism behind her back, just as her waistline began to thicken.

Ben had to admit that he was disappointed in himself. Although he was proud of the slight paunch he had obtained, he had to conceed that he had expected it to be larger by now. He wanted a real belly on him, not just a bloating that made it look like he was bulking for a muscle gain. He was still going on dates, still being lusted after by the other gay guys on campus. Life had yet to alter in the way he secretly longed for.

It was hard not to feel jealous when Ben saw Scott with his arm draped over Sam: her little swollen tummy pushing out as if she didn't realise a half shirt was not a great look for a girl as obviously overweight as she was now. The pounds had seemed to pour onto her body with breathtaking speed. Scott always seemed to be complimenting her or suggesting places for them to eat, his hands hardly off her all the while. It was then that the fantasy started for Ben. Sure, he’d had a crush on Scott before, but seeing him being so openly horny for his dumpy girlfriend was stimulating his imagination no end. Just what did the guy do to get his girls to grow like this? Just how kinky was all this for him? If it hadn’t been for the fact that Sam had failed her first year in college and was shipped back home by her domineering family, Ben could imagine that she would have continued getting fatter and fatter as the months went on. As it was, she appeared to have had a very lucky escape.

Ben had decided early on that he wasn’t going home for the summer. He’d pushed all year for a less than thirty pound gain. Heading home wouldn’t only stunt his progress but was more than likely to reverse it. He’d been successful in his application to stay in the dorms and had picked up a job at a burger joint to help bring in the extra cash. Whether it was just the cheap material they used, Ben didn’t know, but he’d never felt more portly than when he slipped on his work uniform and strolled out with a confident swagger. It got hot working the cash register by the kitchen, with not a single pound of his new fat being hidden as his shift ended. He noticed people starting to look at him differently and speak to him with a bluntness that he was less used to. It spurred him to eat and consume, determined to make the summer months his most productive yet, even with the torturous humidity that lingered for weeks.

Scott arrived back in town a couple of weeks before the start of the new semester as he moved into a frat house with some of the other athletes. He’d popped in and fist-pumped Ben during the quieter mid afternoon, failing to stop his eyes from noticing the additional fifteen pounds Ben had added since he’d last seen him; now encircling his waist, filling up his thighs and at last forming a slight double chin under his jaw.

“This seems like a pretty sweet deal!” he smiled, looking around at the relatively quiet surroundings after learning of the generous rate they were paying per hour.

“We also get free food each shift and sodas whenever we please,” Ben grinned, sipping from a large bucket-like drinks holder.

Again, Scott’s eyes slipped down to Ben’s middle. “You know, you and I should hang out more,” the jock declared, pulling out his phone to get Ben’s number now that they would no longer be living just down the hall from each other. “Being single, I have a lot more time on my hands,” he smiled, slyly checking out the monstrously overweight lady who usually appeared at least a couple of times a week.

A couple of nights later, Scott had made good on his word, inviting Ben out for a few beers; just the two of them. With a good trust fund behind him, Scott was never shy of putting his hand in his pocket to buy in the drinks, although he didn’t appear to be drinking quite as much as Ben had been enabled to. They’d gone back to the dorms carrying pizzas, with Scott wanting to see for himself just how creepy the place felt being so devoid of other students.

“Bro, are you back in the gym?” Scott asked, spotting a couple of large container of protein powder hidden underneath his bed.

Inebriated as he was, Ben merely laughed and shook his head. “No way, man. I’m done with all that shit!”

Scott looked from the protein powder and back to Ben. “I don’t understand then,” he chuckled innocently.

Ben shook his head. “Trust me, buddy, you don’t want to know!” he joked.

“Except, now I really do want to know,” Scott smiled playfully back.

“Let’s just say, the protein powder helps me get in plenty of calories,” Ben offered.

“So you are trying to bulk up,” Scott nodded, deciding that his earlier assumption was correct.

“Not bulking… no,” Ben shot back, realising that he didn’t want to speak in riddles anymore. Scott was his friend, so what if he knew? “Fattening is what I’m doing. I’m growing my belly out. Hence why I just devoured three quarters of all that pizza you just bought as well.” With that, he patted his stout, swollen stomach proudly.

Scott didn’t say a word. His mouth agape, his eyes fell onto Ben’s thicker stomach as if he could hardly comprehend what he was hearing.

“Don’t act like you’re so naive about all this!” Ben chuckled back, entirely relaxed and loose from the many beers he had consumed. “I’ve watched you with Marie and Sam, quietly overfeeding and fattening them up.”

“I did what now?” Scott laughed back; highly amused and not in the least bit offended.

“Oh come on!” Ben sighed. “Stop acting like such a good boy. I saw you! You could hardly keep your hands off Marie when her butt blew up, and the same was true of Sam once her belly started coming in. You’re into fat girls!”

Scott simply continued smiling at him. He sighed, shaking his head and ran his hand through his beautiful hair. “So that’s your theory, huh? That behind the nice guy exterior I’m actually some kinky little feeder-type?”

“I know you are!” Ben smiled, nodding emphatically.

“So what does that make you then?” Scott played along. “Some little fat boy wannabe?”

Ben laughed even more. “Definitely!” he nodded, lifting his shirt and slapping the stomach he had been trying to develop for almost twelve months now. “Having a big fat gut is all I have ever wanted.” Despite the tautness of his skin from the overindulgence, he still revelled in grabbing a little of it and jiggling.

Scott watched on, continuing to chuckle and admit to nothing. The beers flowed and Ben realised he must have nodded off, waking up and seeing that Scott was now gone. Had he gone too far? Opened up too much? Made an idiot of himself? Possibly. But those questions could wait for the morning when his head was less muddled and confused. For now, all his body needed to do was rest and turn the vast amount of calories in his stomach into pure, irreversible blubber.

Ben saw Scott the next day, squinting his eyes as the hangover hit him hard at work.

“How’s the head today?” Scott asked, taking a pause in his morning run to pop in and see his friend.

Ben groaned, rubbing his eyes. The last hour had been pure torture.

At that, Scott laughed, stretching his quads as he stood at the counter so that he didn’t seize up. “Any nice fat girls in for me today?” he teased, making light of the accusations Ben had thrown at him last night.

Ben groaned once again. He thoroughly believed with all his heart that Scott was a feeder, but had he really been that blunt last night? “Take your pick,” he mumbled back, fighting the polite urge in him to take it all back and apologise.

Scott chuckled at that, taking a little look round nonetheless. “I’m busy the next couple of nights, but do you want to head out for beers on Thursday?” he asked.

Ben raised his palm to his head and sighed. “Ask me again when my head stops pounding,” he groaned.

“You’ll survive,” Scott smiled. “I’ll message you later,” he bounced enthusiastically, taking off to continue his run.

It surprised Ben that they had gone almost two hours into their drinks that Thursday without the awkward conversation about Ben’s revelation rearing its ugly head. Scott hadn’t told anyone else. Of that, Ben could be sure. Scott was so charming and laid back, even the most antisocial of people could lose hours simply chatting to him about almost nothing at all. However, something had caught Scott’s attention as they were speaking and Ben turned around to see that Scott’s ex, Marie, had walked in with some of her friends. The place had been slowly filling up with more returnees all week as Freshers’ Week got closer.

“You want to leave?” Ben asked thoughtfully.

Scott considered the question as if weighing up pros and cons. “Sure. Why not?” he finally declared, throwing back the one beer he had been nursing the entire time.”I think it’s time we got some food anyway.”

“If it’s any consolation,” Ben smiled, checking Marie out at the bar as she had her back to them both, “I think she looked a lot better when you were going out with her.”

Scott’s eyes fell onto the girl’s butt, now deflated and more toned. He smiled and laughed as if their minds were in sync. “I think I agree with you!”

It was no surprise to Ben that the pair of them ended up heading back to the dorms, pizzas, chicken wings and sodas in hand. Beer never failed to give Ben a good appetite and he set about eating at a good pace, even with the company there. Late night eating such as this never failed to give him a boost on the scales the next morning.

“Wow! It’s almost all gone,” Scott noted, rolling the only remaining protein powder container out from under the bed.

“I know,” Ben nodded, still trying to keep a good pace before he got too full. “I need to get some more this week.”

“Well, I can’t fault your commitment,” Scott smiled, taking his third slice of pizza and nibbling incredibly slowly.

A strange silence hit. “You’ll have to give me some tips,” Ben joked, after slurping down his soda.

“Let me guess… Because I’m the expert when it comes to making someone fatter, right?” Scott joked back mockingly.

“Damn right you are!” Ben retorted. He’d made his position clear. He wasn’t going to retract his comments about Scott being a feeder, no matter how evasive and belittling the jock was towards the accusations.

“You know, no one else has ever told me they thought my behaviour amounted to being a ‘feeder’ before,” Scott shot back, still with that playful smile on his face.

“That’s because everyone else is an idiot!” Ben replied sharply. “They believe your pretty boy smile and all the bullshit charm that spews out of your mouth. But I see you for the kinky little fucker that you really are…”

Scott’s eyes danced with mischief, enjoying their playful back and forth. “Is that so, huh?” he laughed. “It’s a good job you’re here to call me out on it then,” he joked. “Having a feeder on campus sounds pretty concerning!”

“Don’t you worry,” Ben smiled back, doubling up the pizza slices. “I’m not going anywhere!”

Ben couldn’t put his finger on what exactly had happened, but it was as if his body had finally clicked as to what it was supposed to be doing with all the calories he was pushing into it. In a matter of weeks his nipples had begun to point and jiggle when he walked. His cheeks had swollen and his toned arms had finally softened with a coating of fat. His thighs and butt had puffed up even more and, most excitingly of all, his new belly had folded over his belt as he sat down, almost resting on his crotch. It wasthrilling, feeling his body transforming, with new fleshy areas to discover on a weekly basis. Even as the colder weather hit, Ben proudly strutted about in his t-shirts that had become incredibly poor fitting, enjoying the coolness underneath his new belly where the chilly air had immediate access.

“Where’s that cute girl who works in the kitchens sometimes?” Scott asked, popping into the burger joint as he often did during the quieter hours of Ben’s shifts. Having friends hanging about was usually frowned upon, but there were plenty of admiring women here to ensure that no one ever made a big deal about the pretty, charming boy who visited so often. He’d even been offered a job there more than once.

“Jodie?” Ben asked, having thought a few times that Scott had developed a bit of a crush on his oversized colleague. “She quit last week. She got another job working with her girlfriend.”

Scott sighed in disappointment. He’d been more open in recent weeks about checking out larger women, however it had surprised Ben that the guy had remained single for so long. It had become a frequent joke in his frat house that, apart from the odd one night stand, Scott was getting the least sex of all the boys.

“You know, you’re never going to get a chubby girlfriend unless you actually put yourself out there,” Ben had advised him. “There are loads of bigger girls on the campus.”

“Yeah, but it’s not just about that for me though, is it?” Scott had replied, clipping the boundaries of how far he was willing to openly admit his interest in feedism.

“Well, if you want a fat girl with a good appetite, you just need to hang around here a little more. I see hundreds of them every day!”

Scott sighed once more. “Want to get some beers later?”

“I can’t tonight. I’ve got an assignment due,” Ben replied. “How about Thursday, as usual?”

“Sure,” Scott nodded, shuffling away with the melancholy demeanour that had seemed to overtake him recently.

Thankfully, Scott’s mood had lifted by the time they met for drinks that week. Ben had learned that although his shirt looked large enough as he stood and gazed at his reflection in his mirror, it didn’t necessarily follow that it would fit so well when he sat down in the bar; his stomach bloating with beer, stretching the buttons angrily. Even for his most exhibitionist tendencies, this felt like a step too far; straying into the positively indecent. He’d now fattened into the 250lbs range for the first time, and every inch of it was showing.

Scott had been animated and chatty, never leaving the table for more than a couple of minutes, despite how many of his other friends came in and wanted his attention.

“Do you mind if we head back?” Ben had finally asked, genuinely concerned that his shirt may blow if he had another beer.

“Sure,” Scott agreed enthusiastically. “Want to come to mine for a bit?”

Ben frowned. He’d never been invited into the frat house before. Somehow, in his current state, he couldn’t think of anywhere he belonged less than in a house filled with athletic heterosexual boys. The pair of them picked up Chinese and entered the house, largely ignored by some of the others who were rowdily watching a movie on the couches.

As they made their way into Scott’s bedroom, Ben rolled his eyes at how neat and tidy the whole place was; his well dusted sports trophies decorating the shelving above his clear and organised desk. He sat himself down on the boy’s bed, lying back against the headboard, pleased to ruffle the neat and crease-free sheets, kicking his shoes off as Scott rolled his desk chair out to sit alongside him.

“Things are really speeding up for you now, huh?” Scott asked a few minutes later as, even lying down, Ben’s buttons still threatened to explode as he pushed the noodles into himself.

Ben rubbed his belly proudly. “Still not quite fast enough for my liking,” he replied honestly. “I’m tall enough. There’s no reason why I couldn’t be more than 400lbs if I can push my appetite enough.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that. I’ve seen the way you eat. Four hundred would be easy.”

Ben smiled, always appreciating how supportive Scott was of him, despite being such a fitness freak himself. “I got a little winded walking up some stairs the other day. That was pretty exciting.”

“Really? That does it for you?” Scott asked interestedly. “Becoming less fit?”

“Of course!” Ben nodded back. “Becoming fat, sluggish, lazy and slow. It’s a big reason why I started all this in the first place.”

Scott chuckled and nodded his head. “I can’t argue with that. I’ve never met anyone like you before; someone who actually wants to get fat. My exes, Marie and Sam, they just complained bitterly when they started getting heavier.”

“Well, that’s because they didn’t realise they were dating a feeder,” Ben shot back, knowing that one day Scott would have to admit that it was true. He paused for a moment, sensing that Scott felt more comfortable in his own surroundings. “How did you do that by the way? How did you get them so chubby so fast?”

Scott raised his eyebrows then smirked ever so slightly. “Appetite stimulants,” he stated frankly. “I told them they were vitamins and made sure they took them daily.”

Ben nearly dropped his chopsticks. For months he had been trying to tease out a confession from Scott and, all of a sudden, there it was, as if it was the most casual thing in the world.

“They worked better on Sam than they did Marie. Then again, she was already a little fatter anyway. Then it was just a case of feeding that appetite through any means I could.”

Ben laughed aloud. “I can see why you’ve kept that to yourself for so long,” he smirked. “That’s some proper kinky shit! Secret appetite stimulants?”

Scott nodded, seeming to understand how far off the path he had strayed by using the pills. Then the smile returned. “They worked though. You saw Sam’s tummy. She absolutely ballooned! She used to eat like such a fat pig some nights!”

Smiling and nodding, Ben could hardly argue. He was uniquely aware that Scott had just shared a part of himself that no one else on the entire planet had seen before. “I knew you weren’t such a fucking goodie-two-shoes!”

“Far from it!” Scott smiled. He seemed buzzed to have finally spoken about it all out loud and he shifted restlessly in his chair as if he wanted to say much more and continue the excited feeling inside of himself. “It’s all just so fucking hot though!” he rambled.

Ben smirked. He’d never heard Scott swear before. The guy must have been seriously horny just talking about this stuff.

“I got so turned on watching them eat, knowing exactly what I was doing. I couldn’t believe how easy it was. You’re still the only one who ever noticed! Can you believe that?”

“Like I said, people are idiots. They don’t want to believe that the pretty little star athlete is actually a devious, cunning and manipulative devil!” Ben nodded. “So, out of interest, where exactly are these appetite stimulants?”

Scott rolled his chair and gladly opened his drawer where, tucked inside an innocuous pair of sport socks, sat a little bottle that had been concealed there for months.

“Ready and waiting for your next little piggy, huh?” Ben joked.

“You know it!” Scott smiled wickedly. “I want you to try one for me,” he declared.

“Sure,” Ben shrugged. “But I’m almost out of food anyway. I don’t think I need it.”

“I’ve got more downstairs,” the jock replied, tipping the container up regardless and pinching one into his fingers. “This stuff is super expensive. I’d like you to experience first hand what they can do.”

Ben couldn’t deny that he was turned on by the idea. He went to take it from Scott’s hand until the boy shook his head and insisted on dropping it onto Ben’s tongue himself. Swallow.

“Now just wait half an hour, then you’re going to have the most ravenous appetite of your life!” He spoke slowly, as if all this was the height of eroticism and the pinnacle of his sexual fantasies.

“I’d best take my shirt off then,” Ben joked, until he felt the hands of Scott assisting him; his fleshy stomach and nipples entirely on show in front of Scott for the first time.

“I’m just going to get it all ready,” Scott announced, jumping out of his chair. “I won’t be long,” he exclaimed, throwing the TV remote into Ben’s hands and racing off with a sprightliness that was alien to Ben these days.

As Ben sat there watching some boring sitcom, he tried to calm his body down. He had to remember that Scott was straight and that, although he was indulging in their kinks right now, the last thing he would want to see would be the epic hard-on that Ben could feel rising up in his crotch.

Scott arrived back about twenty minutes later, carrying a discrete cardboard box that, when emptied, contained several different items of highly fattening treats. Ben realised then that this had all been planned from the start. Had he microcraved the ice cream to make it so gooey? One of the tubs was practically liquid!

“Are you feeling it yet?” Scott asked, sitting down and switching the TV off in favour of music. Generic, sweet love songs played out, no longer fitting alongside the exciting, wicked kinkiness Scott had concealed for so long.

“What am I supposed to be feeling?” Ben asked, placing a cushion over his crotch as he realised he was fooling himself if he thought he could stop his dick from getting hard.

“Hungry!” Scott replied excitedly back, picking up the cushion and throwing it away over his shoulder.

“Please!” Ben panicked. “I need that! I can’t promise not to get turned on if I’m going to be eating this much.”

“Good!” Scott grinned. “I’m already there.” He pointed into his crotch, where a massive, thick and pumped erection had slid itself down the side of the left leg of his pants. He slipped his large hand onto Ben’s fattened middle and rubbed, making both of them moan. He leaned in closer, assessing just how much Ben would submit to him tonight. Then he grinned, leaning in to kiss Ben in a way that was at odds with the violent jiggling his hand was forcing upon Ben’s stomach fat. ”Give it another five minutes to let the stimulant do its work,” he whispered, leaning in for more kisses and undressing both of them before the time was finally up.

Having Scott’s hand on his dick felt like no sexual thrill Ben had ever experienced in his life. Through his masterful stroking, the handsome jock had fully asserted his dominant nature, leaving no part of his true self now hidden.

“Are you going to be a good piggy for me?” Scott asked, his face deadly serious as he anticipated the exciting spectacle that was to come.

Ben wasn’t sure where he stood on being called a pig, but out of Scott’s mouth, it felt like the perfect, sexy fit. “Yes,” he nodded; his hand clasping Scott’s hardness in turn.

“Because that thing you said about being 400lbs…” Scott continued. “That’s not going to be enough for a fat boy like you, is it?”

Ben sighed with relief. It was like something from his dreams. Scott was right: four hundred was never going to be enough for him. However, saying it out loud was something he had never dared before. But how did Scott know that so instinctively?

Even without the appetite stimulant, Ben felt he would have made great inroads into the disgusting amount of supplies Scott had carried up to feed him with. However, wth the stimulant working its magic, Ben was surprised by just how much he was getting down. It wasn’t hunger he felt exactly, but all the usual tightness that came from overeating just wasn’t happening tonight. His stomach seemed to have an endless capacity, both of them ejaculating over the tremendous, distorted ball his gut had become by the end of it all.

Ben didn’t go back to the dorm that night. Scott’s sweet nature had returned as they lay in bed together, entirely naked. In the morning, Ben enjoyed breakfast in bed and was introduced properly to the guys in the house, all of whom looked on in confusion at the small ways Scott appeared so unashamedly affectionate towards him. He wanted to hold hands as they made their way back to the dorm and it suddenly dawned on Ben that he was now taken. Scott had claimed him as his own. He was the fat pig the kinky boy had desired for so long; their destinies now very much entwined.

“You know, honey, I really think we should give that diet another go,” Scott cooed three years later as they both went over to stay with Ben’s folks for a weekend during the Fall. Despite being no strangers to seeing their son slowly fatten up, they had been shocked by just how extreme it all was now Ben was over 460lbs. His stomach was so enormous, the fat on his thighs and hips sometimes throwing him off-balance and the enormous sacks of fat under his armpits pushing his elbows out wider. Even after all these years, Scott was still getting away with it; no one believed, even for a second, that Ben’s incredible obesity and appetite were being caused by him. Everyone loved Scott, including Ben’s own stern father, who had sold his beloved classic car to Scott for a pittance the moment the charming boy had shown an interest. It was simply the way Scott sailed through life, people bending over backwards to help and please him; sensing a goodness in him that, although very real, didn’t eclipse the wicked deviousness within.

By the end of the evening, Ben had solemnly sworn to his concerned parents that he would try to lose a few pounds. He and Scott had come upstairs to the small bedroom Ben had inhabited most of his adolescence, dropping the mattress onto the floor given that he had broken the bed the last time they had visited. Ben’s father had refused to fix it out of protest.

Ben knew what was coming next as they both undressed. He had seen the subtle boner in Scott’s crotch the entire time his parents had been nagging him about his weight; spurred on entirely by Scott himself.

“You actually brought the funnel?” Ben exclaimed, sitting up obediently as it was automatically strapped around his fat head.

“Of course I did, Piggy!” Scott cooed; his personality changed behind the closed door of the bedroom. He shook up some of the instant calorie shakes they sometimes bought when they were away and unable to make their own. “You agreed to twelve thousand calories a day for the next week, remember.”

With a hose in his mouth, Ben could do little more than grunt in acknowledgement. Still, his hardness was pressing its way through the fat that was engulfing his groin. Five hundred had never felt so close!

“I promised your mother I was going to help you with this diet, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do!” Scott chuckled, pouring one fattening carton after another into the funnel. He’d always throw in a couple more if Ben got him horny enough; which was why, alongside his swallowing, Ben sat there trying to rub his sweaty palm over Scott’s concrete boner and make him climax. This whole scenario was something that turned him on more than anything: the quiet, blameless ways Scott fed and encouraged him behind people’s backs. The face of an angel. A man who could never even dream of such a thing as this!

“Drink up, Piggy!” demand the feeder, staring down at him with a devilish glint in his eyes. “Every last fucking drop!”

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