#I won’t get in detail but she infuriate me so much | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gentlyweeps-world · 4 months

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A Rivals Heart 3

summary: A crush had turned into hatred, but with the work of Lando, Alex and George, maybe it could be fixed.

pairing: max verstappen x fem! driver reader

warnings: alcohol consumption, sexual tensions.

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LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO

“You don’t understand guys, we almost kissed! And now he hasn’t said a thing to me! He’s acting like nothing happened!” You groan out, pacing back and forth as George, Alex and Lando simply watch you.

It’s the weekend of the Saudi Arabian GP, and you’re currently in the Williams hospitality, ranting about the night at the club with Max.

Lando just laughs as you rant on about your awkward encounter with Max, he found the entire thing absolutely funny.

George and Alex just chuckle, George glances at you with a smirk on his face.

“He’s probably just as confused as you are, or he’s trying to figure out what he actually feels towards you.” George adds on, as Lando just keeps laughing.

“Well clearly he still hates me..” You say throwing your hands up, “You guys saw how he was glaring at me!”

Lando lets out another laugh, George sighs and rolls his eyes.

“He does still hate you, that’s true.” George says with a smirk, but he quickly adds on. “But I think your encounter with him might have changed that..”

Alex just sips his water, looking away into the distance as he listens to your rant.

“Ugh! Whatever guys are stupid, he’s stupid!” You groan out, flopping down on one of the couches in the hospitality.

Lando lets out a chuckle, but George looks at you seriously, he can tell how much this is infuriating you.

“What if I could get him to talk to you?” He asks, watching you.

Lando chuckles at that idea, while Alex just sips on his water, clearly just listening to this entire conversation not sure what to say.

“No..no just leave it be..” You mumble out, leaning your head back as you close your eyes. The three guys look at each other, knowing they won’t leave it be and will definitely say something to him.

———

“Heyyy Max!” Lando says after searching the entire paddock for him.

Max looks up from his phone from where he was sitting in RB hospitality. “Hi..” Max replies, turning off his phone and looking at Lando.

“Soo…” Lando says, taking a seat next to Max, “You remember that one night at the club last weekend?” Lando adds on.

Max smirks at Lando, he can’t believe the audacity of Lando to ask a question like that.

He remembers that one night all too well. But he doesn’t show that to Lando.

“Yes I do.” Max replies, not wanting to go into details or mention it further.

“Right..right” Lando says, not sure what to say with Max being so…dry. “Uh well! That was purely to piss you off…” Lando adds on with a chuckle, “But uh- we think you should say something to Y/n!”

Max just looks at Lando, not replying yet. Landos intentions were obvious, and he knew that as well as Max.

Finally, he spoke. “Why’s that?” He asked, turning back to Lando so they make eye contact.

“Just to uh yknow..fix relationships within the grid..?” Lando says awkwardly, even if he was good friends with Max, this conversation was awkward, too awkward.

Max smirks at the excuse Lando tried to make.

“We’re rivals. She’s always hated me and I’ve always hated her.” He says bluntly.

“Right well! See you around mate!” Lando says, getting up quickly and clapping Max on his shoulder as he rushes off to find George and Alex.

——

“That was horrible! Why couldn’t Alex say something to him!” Lando whines out to George and Alex, having had done a terrible job talking to Max.

George rolls his eyes at Lando, “Alex wouldn’t have done any better” George says.

“Hey! I was teammates with him, I would’ve done way better!” Alex says offended.

“What about Danny?” Lando suggests, “Daniel loves to annoy Max..” He adds on.

“That is true…” George mumbles out, thinking about it.

———

“Oh yeah I’m in..” Danny says with a grin, “Anything to piss off Max” He adds on with a chuckle.

So now here you are walking side by side with Danny walking to RB hospitality to eat with him. “Why didn’t you get Lando or someone else to go with you..” You mumble out annoyed, not understanding why Danny picked you.

“Because I want to have some lunch with my other bestie!” Daniel says, wrapping his arm around your shoulder with a grin.

Seeing him smile you couldn’t help but also smile. You both find a table to sit at, “I’ll go grab some stuff to munch on..” Danny says with a grin.

Unknowingly Max was walking up behind you to join, “Oh hey Max! You can sit right there!” Danny says, pulling Max and shoving him into the chair across of you before he sprints away laughing.

Max lets out a groan as he’s being shoved into a chair and then being left alone with you. He couldn’t believe Daniel would do him dirty like that but you can’t really say no to Danny without being rude. “Fucking asshole..” He mutters under his breath.

He sits across from you and looks at you, not saying a word, clearly planning his next move. “Uhm, hi..” You say with a nervous smile, not exactly what to say or do, since it’s been weird between the two of you.

“So you do talk…” Max says with a smirk, leaning back in his seat. “And you’re back to being an ass..” You grumble out, rolling your eyes. You look around Red Bulls hospitality and notice Alex, George, Lando and Daniel trying to “hide” and watch you and Max talk, you glare at them but glance back over to Max.

Max smirks, this was more like the conversations the two of you usually had.

“Did you miss me?” He asks as he raises one of his eyebrows at you, clearly teasing you. “Oh I missed you so much!” You say sarcastically, rolling your eyes.

Max grins at you, he can already tell you two are back to your normal fighting self again.

“That’s a nice attitude you have schatz”He says sarcastically. “Thanks..” You mumble out, narrowing your eyes at him. “It’s special just for you..” You add on.

Max smiles at you, his smile growing larger with every sarcastic comment you send his way.

“I feel honored” He says as his voice was filled with sarcasm and amusement.

“Good..” You mumble out before getting up from your seat, “Well I’d better get ready for qualifying!” You say, “It was so nice talking to you!” You add on sarcastically, making your way to your teams garage.

———

“It totally worked..” You hear a voice say, snapping you from your nap, “What…?” You mumble out confusedly, opening you eyes and spotting Lando, Alex and George.

It was race day and you were at your teams hospitality, taking a nap before everything started.

“Danny leaving you two to talk!” George says, reminding you of the previous day. “That definitely didn’t work..” You mumble out, sitting up to look at the three guys.

“Maybe not..” Lando chuckles, “But at least you two are talking now.” Lando replies.

George just rolls his eyes, “Yeah he’s right about that, it’s a start.” George adds on, he knows what him and Lando had attempted to do yesterday didn’t go that well.

“It was a shitty attempt at trying to fix this..” Alex mumbles under his breath. “See! Alex gets it!” You say, motioning your hand towards Alex.

Alex rolls his eyes once again but doesn’t say anything.

“So what did he even end up saying to you?” George asks, clearly eager to know about the encounter between you and Max. “Was he even nice?” He asks.

“Yeah he was suuper nice!” You say sarcastically glaring at George. George rolls his eyes, he had obviously seen through your sarcasm.

“He definitely wasn’t nice.” George adds on, his tone being slightly serious.

“Really?!” You say faking shock, “I didn’t know George!”

“Oh be quiet.” George rolls his eyes at you.

Lando smirks, it’s clear he’s enjoyed watching this entire thing unfold. Alex just remains quiet.

“Can we just drop Max and focus on the race happening soon?” You mumble out with a groan.

That was clearly the worst move to make, as the guys all turn to you, looking at you as if you had just insulted their mothers.

“Drop Max?” George asks, sounding genuinely disappointed now.

“No!” Lando shouts, almost as if this situation was now his problem.

“We want the drama..” Alex replies, finally joining the conversation.

“If you want drama go talk to Pierre and Charles or something!” You say with a groan, getting up from your spot.

“That’s boring drama.” Lando chuckles, getting up with you.

“The drama here is much more interesting.” George says, also standing up.

“Don’t walk out on us, this is still our problem too.” Lando says. “It’s not your guys problem! You three volunteered to make it your problem!” You say, walking away to go to your teams garage and get prepared for the race.

———

“Just one more lap to go, P3, P3” Your engineer says over radio.

You had a great start, moving up two positions from P5, and thankfully being able to keep that P3 position for the entire race.

Max was just in-front of you in P2. With Checo in P1.

“Gap between me and Verstappen?” You ask, wanting, needing, to overtake him for your own egos sake.

Your engineer replies to you pretty quickly, knowing how competitive you are.

“Approximately 2.3 seconds.” He replies. “Perfect” You reply, set on overtaking him.

You focus on the race, keeping in mind the gap between Max.

You’ve started your lap, you close in on Max. You were getting a good speed on this track compared to others, you finally were in DRS and were able to pull alongside Max.

Side by side to Maxs RB19, you try to push to get past him, but he wasn’t having it.

He knowingly moves in closer to you, self sabotaging his race and yours.

Max was not having it, he wasn’t about to let you win this race, even if it meant taking both of you out of the race, it was a sacrifice he was willing to make.

You collide into each other, you know how fast both of you were going, you knew the impact was going to be hard so you close your eyes and brace for it.

Both of your cars are sent spinning out into the grass. The crash was hard, but you were okay, you open your eyes, you see the grass and gravel being thrown around you.

Everything stopped for a moment, you were okay. You were safe. But he ruined it.

Of course he couldn’t let you pass him, instead he opted to take you both out. “You okay Y/n?” Your engineer asks, “I’m fucking pissed” You reply sharply, getting out of your car and storming over to Maxs.

He was just getting out of his when he noticed you storming over. “You’re a fucking asshole!” You shout, throwing your hands up in the air.

Max had just got out of the car, not having any care in the world for anything else.

“That was quite fun wasn’t it?” He says with a smirk, he knew what he just did, but he was completely fine with it.

“I hate you! I hope you’re proud of yourself Verstappen!” You say, noticing the marshalls rushing over now to split you two apart. Max freezes in his spot, thankful you couldn’t see the way his face dropped at your words. The marshalls rush you away from him and off the track.

He knew he fucked up, he knew he lost you. You called him by his last name and said you hated him. The words cut him deep, and that’s something you couldn’t see. He hated the way this whole thing turned out now. He was hurt that you truly meant every word.

You’re brought back to your teams garage. Everyone looks at you, not saying anything, they know the drama between the two of you, but you had never truly said you hated the other before.

———

“Y/n? Y/n!” An interviewer asks, snapping you out of your daze. “How are you feeling after today?” They ask.

You internally roll your eyes at the question, hated that you still had to attend media duties. “Pretty bad, I mean there wasn’t much I could do..” You reply, rubbing your hand over you face, trying to hide the fact you were crying about ten minutes ago.

The interviewer could clearly see you were trying to hide something. You always seemed to look so confident and happy during these interviews.

“Can I ask, how do you feel about Max? Because this isn’t the first time you two have clashed.” The interviewer asks.

“I think he’s a pussy” You say blankly, “He couldn’t deal with me trying to overtake him”

You didn’t care if PR yelled at you, you were pissed. The interviewer nods at your response, not wanting to act surprised or shocked.

“Are you implying he wouldn’t let you overtake him because you’re female?” They ask.

“Yes, yes I am” You reply bluntly.

The interviewer nods in understanding, they know Max and you both have always had this tension and rivalry between you two.

“And he did crash into you, I’m sure the FIA will look into this accident.” The interviewer points out.

You let out a chuckle at that, “Sure..” You say with a grin, knowing the FIA won’t do that.

The interviewer gets frustrated at your grin and how you were laughing at the whole thing.

“Do you believe you could’ve won the race if that collision didn’t happen?” The interviewer asks.

“I think it would’ve been possible, yes” You reply, crossing your arms over your chest.

The interviewer takes note of that, they know you’re always extremely confident in your abilities as a race car driver. It isn’t something that surprises them.

“Do you believe you’ll make a comeback in Melbourne? With this incident?” The interviewer says, it was clear they were trying to see how motivated you are to win next weekend.

“Yes, I’m very confident” You say.

The interviewer makes a note of this as well, they always knew you’d never back down on your confidence.

“Alright, that’ll be all. Thank you.” The interviewer says as they turn off the camera and hand you a towel to wipe off sweat.

You are able to relax for a few moments before your PR manager comes up to you. You noticed the hint of irritation in your PR manager, but that was hidden by a forced smile.

The PR manager looks at you, they know how badly the day went and how pissed you were at Max for crashing into you.

They put their arm around your shoulder and lead you back to your drivers room.

Once the door is closed you let out a sigh. “You have to watch what you say” Kelly, your PR manager says.

“I know that! I’m just so pissed off..” You say, leaning up against the small makeshift bed.

Kelly just nods at you, she understands what your feelings right now, but she knows she still has to act as your PR manager.

“He’s got to you a good bit.” She says, hoping to get you to relax a bit more.

“He crashed into you, you’re allowed to be mad.” She adds on. “I know the FIA won’t do anything…” You say softly, disappointment and irritation evident in your tone.

“They most likely won’t..” Kelly says softly, she knows this feeling all too well.

She sighs, she knows that this whole situation sucks, but you have to move on from it for now, you can’t let this incident ruin the next race in Melbourne.

“The team will try and say something to the FIA” Kelly adds on, giving you a reassuring smile. “Okay that’s good..” You mumble out, rubbing your hand over your face.

Kelly nods at you, letting out a little sigh.

“They probably won’t do much, it’s Max we’re talking about here.” She says, “He has a special place for all the rules.” She adds on sarcastically, her voice becoming slightly annoyed.

You let out a chuckle at her words, “Yeah that’s true” You say with a small grin. “It’s not fair, but it’s just the way things are.” Kelly says with a sigh, she hated how the whole system worked.

You both sit there for a few moments in silence, until there was a knock at your door.

“I’ll check it” She says, moving to crack open the door and peek her head out, “Yeah Y/n’s in here, you can come in..” She says, moving the door more open, letting in Lewis.

You perk up at the sight of Lewis, you’ve never really talked much but he’s a nice guy. Lewis walked into the room with a smile on his face, you knew he had heard what happened, words spread quick around the paddock.

Lewis had always been a supportive person to you. “How you feeling?” Lewis asks, he had come to have just a general chat and check up on you.

“Pretty shitty..” You say with a chuckle, you glance at Kelly who gives you a smile and exits the room, knowing Lewis probably wants to comfort you.

Lewis smiles at your response, he can tell you’re just trying to joke around a little bit to avoid being in a sour mood.

“Sorry I didn’t get a chance to check up on you sooner.” Lewis says, sitting down next to you, he knew how you were probably feeling right now after the whole incident.

“It’s alright..” You say with a faint smile, glancing over at him.

There’s a good chunk of silence before he speaks up, “I- I know how you feel…” He says, “Like you fit in but don’t completely…you’ll always be viewed as an outsider and be targeted…”

“I know it must be worse for you- but I understand to some extent…” Lewis says, looking at you.

Lewis’ words hit home, you’ve never really seen anyone really understand your situation before.

“You do understand…” You reply with a faint smile, you felt good at the moment for just a few seconds, “Thanks Lewis..” You add on.

There’s a moment of silence as you figure out your next words. “There’s some drivers who I’m friends with- and some I talk to- who I’m friendly with”

“But it’s not the same, there’s still this distance, that I’m still left out even if it’s not noticeable…”

“And there’s unspoken pressure with me being female, I have to preform every weekend, or else I’ll be viewed as if I don’t deserve my seat..”

“If there’s just one slip up, almost everyone in F1 hates me” You say softly.

You realized you had been talking pretty fast, you had been spewing everything that had been bottled up inside of you.

Lewis couldn’t help but feel bad for you, because he did know how it felt to constantly have the pressure of performing on your shoulders.

“I know..” He replies back, “I have my own troubles, but I think yours are worse than mine..” Lewis says, he could tell how much the pressure to perform was getting to you.

“Yeah well-“ You say with a dry chuckle, “That’s F1..”

Lewis smiles softly at your dry humor, he had a slight feeling that you were using jokes as a way to lighten the tension.

“It is unfortunately..” He replies back.

He was always pretty silent when it came to emotional stuff, but you could tell that his heart truly did go out for you.

“Thank you for checking up on me..” You say, giving him a small smile.

Lewis just smiles back at you, you knew he cared about you, despite you two not being too close before this.

“Your welcome.” He replies, he gives you a small pat on the shoulder before leaving the room.

You were happy that someone checked up on you.

———

You let out a sigh, you were back at your hotel room, laying in bed watching Cars when there was a knock at your door.

“Coming!” You say, getting up from the bed and over to the door, cracking it open just enough to see who it is.

When you see who it is, you are caught off guard.

Max was standing at the door.

He obviously didn’t know how to approach you after the whole incident but he couldn’t just ignore the whole thing, there was something he wanted to say, and now was the time.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

radio 🪩: Merry Christmas for those who celebrate! Hope this was a good third part!

taglist: @neilakk @formulas-bitch @lpab @jehun @allinestarr @reidsworld @taylor-will-be-the-death-of-me @itsjustkhaos @cmleitora @gills-lounge @christianpulisic10 @chonkybonky @goldenharrysworld

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halfway-happyyy · 2 years

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california king bed (jake seresin)

AN: the one where jake seresin realizes his selfish tendencies could cost him everything. inspired by this ask. fluff and a dash of smut exist below the cut ♡

warnings include: consensual penetrative vaginal sex, some oddly specific details in here friends, so sorry it's part of my process sometimes, minors DNI.

characters: jake 'hangman' seresin x female reader

Jake Seresin is falling in love with the woman sleeping soundly beside him.

It’s much too early to be contemplating such things, yet despite that, a morning sun bathes her in a pale glow, highlighting the parts of her that no one else gets to see as up-close as he does. A front-row show to the world’s most wondrous woman.

He knows it’s love because everything else he’s ever experienced has paled in comparison to what he feels when he’s with her. Where he had never before bothered to know a woman as intimately as he knows her, he can tell anyone who'll listen what her favourite films are. He can name- with infuriating confidence- the types of flowers she wants to make up her future wedding bouquet, the titles of the tattered paperback westerns her beloved grandfather used to collect, that her socks stay in the laundry basket a full week before she finally summons the strength to put them away. He knows he’s in especially deep because the precarious stack of unread novels next to her side of the bed never ceases to make him smile anytime he catches sight of it.

She shifts then, rousing him from his reverie. Her body is entirely nude save for the white cotton sheet draped over her front. He counts the freckles that scatter her back like constellations, and the urge to reach out and trace them is almost entirely overpowering. He refrains from touching her though, because as much as he wants to wake her, he also wants this moment to himself. In the silence, he can admit that he is on thin ice with her. He knows that the fight they had last night could very well have been one of their last, and he realizes without a shadow of a doubt, that he wants a lifetime more of heated arguments with her. He wants the fights and the makeups; the fucking and the loving, and the life- the good bits and the gory bits. He wants all of it with her.

But she is fine sand and he is the hourglass that encases her and sometimes- like last night, he feels powerless to stop her inevitable departure.

“I worry sometimes that I’m not cut out for relationships.” The alcohol in his veins made his tongue loose- made being honest with her as effortless as breathing.

She laughed, but any humor behind it was frozen inside a block of ice the size of Texas. “So what? The last seven months were a trial run? ‘Let’s see if Jake Seresin can do this… and if he can’t oh, well. Onto the next one’.”

“It’s not like that…”

She folded her arms across her chest in defiance. “Then tell me what it’s like because I care, Jake. I care so much. But if you can’t let me in…” Her expression hardened, as if a shadow passed over it. “If you won’t let me in, I don’t think I can keep doing this.”

He watches the steady rise and fall of her chest in the glowing morning light; watches her eyes dance beneath veined lids, wonders briefly what kind of dream she’s having and if it’s as lovely as she looks right now. He gazes at her a little while longer; wants to memorize every miniscule detail of her face lest she opens her eyes and decides she’s finished with it all. But her eyes do slide open a little while later, her pupils constricting to pinpricks at the sudden onslaught of sunlight. She doesn’t smile at him like she normally does when she greets him in the morning and that rattles him a little if he’s honest.

“I’m sorry for last night.” He offers finally, his voice gruff and heavy from recent sleep.

She watches him, her expression unreadable. “You were just being honest.”

He closes his eyes, wants desperately to get what he’s about to say, right. “I do well on my own. I always have. It's why I choose not to share the sky with anyone, it's certainly why I choose not to involve myself with anyone.” He clears his throat. “I have spent so much of my life thinking I was above loving and being loved back, and for some reason that all went out the damn door with you.”

I have spent so much of my life thinking I was above everything, period.

“Women like me come along once in a lifetime, Jake.” She inches closer to him, her fingertips find the jut of his chin, forcing him to gaze at her. “You know that don’t you?”

He nods his head furtively.

“I realize how close I came to blowing this all up last night. It’s the last thing I want to do.”

The weight of the vulnerability that comes along with that confession feels like it may just crush him if he’s not careful.

Her face hovers mere inches above his; her warm breath as it ghosts over his lips causes him to shiver against her in unabashed anticipation. Bending forward, she captures his lips in a kiss that while languid, is also painted with a dash of scarlet passion. This was what they needed after a night of stifling silence. Knotted bedsheets always offered them a solace not found anywhere else on earth; their bed had a habit of bringing them back together when they strayed too far from one another.

He's already entirely ready for her when she breaks their kiss to straddle his thighs. He can tell she is too by the way her arousal trails down the velvet-soft of her inner thigh, over the head of his cock, and down the underside of his shaft. The sensation of it causes his eyes to roll back in his head as he grips himself firmly in his hand and lines himself up at her entrance.

Placing both hands firmly on his shoulders, she lowers herself onto his impossibly hard cock and begins to ride him slowly, and deeply. She drops her head to the hollow crook of space between his neck and shoulder blade and peppers kisses to the warm skin there.

Jake can barely string together a coherent thought; she’s always taken him so well, but there is an intimacy to this time that causes a lump of emotion to swell inexplicably in the hollow of his throat. His large, deft hands roam the dips and valleys of her back; he feels her muscles bend and flex as she rides him like her life depends on it and being close with her like this after last night, just feels like coming home after a long, exhausting mission.

She pulls away to gaze at him, opens her mouth to say something, but a desperate whimper escapes in place of any actual words. Jake stifles a groan and cups a palm to the apple at her cheek, nodding at her.

“I know, baby. Keep going.”

And she does.

She fucks him until her hips still and Jake feels her spasm around him. His name is a breathless scream on her lips; the electric and all-encompassing heat of her orgasm drives him ever closer to the precipice of his own and Jake wonders briefly if this is what heaven is like.

“It’s too good, baby.” He gasps as she continues to pulse around him, and when she doesn’t immediately stop, his fingernails leave crescent-moon indents in the soft skin of her hips as he tosses his head back and comes into her in thick, hot waves.

She stays connected to him longer than she should, and when she lifts herself off of him, the sudden loss of intimate contact is almost painful. Pressing a kiss his sweat-damp forehead, she disappears for a little while. Her absence is felt long enough that Jake wonders momentarily if she left, but then she enters their room a couple minutes later with a bowl of strawberries which she places on counter next to his side of the bed.

“I love you.”

It has nothing to do with how good she just fucked him, or that she brings him freshly washed strawberries in the mornings, or even that she waits for him while he spends most of his waking moments in the clouds.

He loves her because where everything else in his life is difficult or heavy, loving her is the easiest decision he’s ever made.

“I love you too, you cocky bastard.” Her words are warbled around the strawberry in her mouth, and as she tosses a wink his way, Jake can’t help the hearty guffaw that tumbles from his mouth in happy waves.

#have i been on a rihanna kick lately? ill never tell #jake seresin #hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin smut #jake seresin imagines #top gun: maverick #tgm #glen powell #smut #writing #drabble #california king bed

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anxiousnerdwritings · 1 year

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I wonder how would Yandere platonic Aerys 2 Targaryen react to Reader (who was adopted) standing up against him? Like he goes to Rhaella to punish her or abuse her for something that made him angry, and when Aerys got there, he started to hurt her inside chambers. And Reader was walking around the castle minding their business, until they hear Rhaella crying“You’re hurting me”. Reader rushes to their “mother”, once they got there they witnessing how their “father” hurting their “mother”. Reader shoves Aerys from Rhaella, punching his face so hard that his nose bleeds

Reader: “GET AWAY FROM MY MOTHER!!!😡👊 “I don’t care that you are a King, but you will not dare to hurt her!”

Also how would Yandere Rhaella react to this, the same question for Rhaegar and Viserys 3. Reader would be really disappointed in Rhaegar for not doing anything about it, that they would throw a disappointing look at him anytime they see him. Also Reader would be disappointed in Guards and scold them for not protecting the Queen.

So what do you think about it? What the reaction of yandere platonic Targaryens and some Kings guards would be? I imagined that Reader would be strong enough to do it.

P.S. sorry if it’s too long. I just wanted to show it in full detail

Aerys would definitely be taken aback. At first, he can’t believe that someone hit him, that someone was close enough to touch him. It doesn’t take him long to be thrown into a rage over it only to come face to face with who exactly it was, his own ‘child’ had attacked him. Why? How could they do something like that to him? And then he sees them consoling and comforting Rhaella, as if she hadn’t deserved what she got. And that only infuriates Aerys more. But it’s not directed towards the Reader, it’s Rhaella who he has his sights set on. It’s all her fault.

Aerys would be all over the place with his reaction. He’s enraged. He’s shocked. He feels betrayed. And he’s all the more enraged. He’s even more angry with his sister-wife than he already was before because he only sees her as the reason why his ‘child’ attacked him out of what he sees as nowhere. Aerys doesn’t even think about being upset at the Reader for hitting him, he puts all the blame on Rhaella. He believes that she’s told their ‘child’ lies to make them think that she needs protecting, that she isn’t deserving of what Aerys believes is her due punishment. If someone else were to have done what the Reader did to him, they would be dead but the Reader gets a hard pass on any form of a death sentence. There would of course still be a punishment for the Reader but nothing extreme or severe. If anything the Reader would only be locked in their room for a period of time to think about their actions, so basically ‘grounded’. Honestly, Aerys wouldn’t even acknowledge what the Reader did to him after that, at least not to them or anyone else but Rhaella will be reminded of it. This situation would make Aerys back off of Rhaella though, he at the very least wouldn’t use her as his ‘stress reliever’ as much as usual thanks to the Reader. Whether it’s due to Aerys’ consciously doing so or not, the Reader’s actions had some form of effect.

Rhaella would be just as taken aback as Aerys is, but her shock would immediately be replaced with absolute concern for the safety of the Reader, the consequences of their actions and what exactly Aerys would do in retaliation. She couldn’t be more relieved though when Aerys doesn’t hold much of a grudge against the Reader for everything or that he didn’t even go very far at all with their punishment. She doesn’t even bat an eye at the fact that Aerys has completely and utterly put full blame of the incident and the Reader’s actions onto her, she’s just so overjoyed that the Reader is safe from her brother-husband’s wrath and that they won’t be receiving anything harsh in return to care about it. When given the chance, Rhaella would speak to the Reader privately, most likely during their being grounded, to not only gently chide them but also to graciously thank them for what they did. She doesn’t necessarily agree with how they went about it or the fact that they did anything at all, after all she came to accept her place as Aerys wife and queen some time ago, but she can’t deny that a part of her deep within took great pleasure it watching Aerys get what he deserved. Not only that, but the fact that their ‘child’ stood up for and protected her from even Aerys meant so much to Rhaella. And the Reader called her ‘Mom’ while they were protecting her too, it just adds to filling her heart with warmth. But she would advise and make the Reader promise to her that they wouldn’t do something like that again for, their own safety. Even though she knows full well that the Reader is lying to her when they promise not to, she can’t help the smile spreading across her lips knowing that her precious ‘child’ will continue to protect her no matter what. I also like to think that the Reader made some sort of comment to Rhaella when she chided them, something along the lines of ‘Everyone protects the King, but who protects the Queen from him?’ (similar to what Jaime had talked about with the other Kingsguard). And that really struck something in her, causing her to cry in front of the Reader and them just holding her, vowing that they won’t let her be all alone in this. They aren’t going to let her carry the burden of the Realm and having to put up with Aerys’ in general all on her own.

There’s no doubt that Rhaegar gets word of what happened, whether someone relayed it him or he heard it floating about the Realm, and he’s panicked/worried about what he’s going to be met with when he makes his way to check on the Reader and his mother. Honestly, he couldn’t much less care about his father, on the contrary Rhaegar is slightly amused to hear that his father got what was coming to him. But he’s much more concerned about what fate may befall his ‘sibling’ on behalf of the King. Nothing could have really prepared him for the disappointment and frustration that the Reader directed towards him for not doing something to better keep their mother safe at the hands of their father, especially since Rhaegar is next in line to take the throne. Rhaegar would be very upset with himself and completely understanding towards where the Reader was coming from, but he also knows damn well that he wouldn’t be able to get away with standing up for their mother like the Reader can. Not when it comes to Aerys. As much as Rhaegar would want to be able to protect Rhaella, he wouldn’t be able to do unscathed. And Aerys would punish him much, much more severely than what the Reader could ever get. But Rhaegar would vow to both the Reader and his mother that once he became King he would be able to make up for not doing much of anything now. It wouldn’t be mean much to the Reader in the moment but it’s something, and if Rhaella takes his word then so will the Reader. But Rhaegar would be extremely upset with himself for not being more like the Reader. For not caring about how he’ll be viewed by everyone else but instead just being able to act out on what he wishes he could. If anything this incident would have Rhaegar admiring his adopted sibling for not only standing up for what they believed in but also acting out on said beliefs, no matter who they were standing up against. And he would do better by both the Reader and his mother.

Given how Rhaella shelters Viserys, I have no doubt that she wouldn’t tell him about the situation. If anything Viserys would have most definitely heard it from the servants gossiping only to ask his mother whether it was true or not. All this time the Reader had been painted as someone to look up to, someone that Viserys has come to idolize given how admirably the Reader is talked about, but now he’s hearing that the sibling he looked up to so highly attacked his father who, as far as he knows, was undeserving of such treatment. Rhaella would do her best to make neither party seem like the bad guy but out of the two she’s definitely defending the Reader more than Aerys. It would probably be the Reader who tells Viserys the truth about Aerys altogether. It never did sit well with them how Viserys didn’t know the truth about his own father and how he ruled, or even a small extent of it. The Reader was understanding in the beginning of why Rhaella didn’t want him to know but he should at least be aware of some of his father’s doings. Viserys would need some time to come to terms with and fully process that his father isn’t really who he had been brought up to believe. But eventually it would end up with Viserys latching onto the Reader more and viewing them as more than a sibling at that point now that Aerys has been pretty shit on. It certainly wouldn’t help Aerys for Rhaella to admit to even a bit of truth about him to Viserys. I have no doubt that Rhaella would certainly want for Viserys to look up to and grow up to be more like the Reader in the future, so she would vehemently talk about the Reader in an adoring and admiring way so that Viserys would favor them more than his father.

I personally think that Arthur Dayne, Barristan Selmy and Jaime Lannister would all be quite taken with what the Reader did. Sure they know that it’s one of the biggest no-no’s to touch the King like that, let alone to attack him or inflict any harm onto him. It’s their role to protect him after all, they all took an oath for a reason but internally they have nothing but pride and respect for what the Reader did. It’s no secret about what Aerys has done to his wife, the Queen, and as much as they wish they can step in, then can’t do so without great action being taken on them and going against everything they took a vow for. Jaime especially would be a little more outward about his reaction than the others would be. He himself had wanted to protect the Queen from her ill-fated brother-husband since he first became part of the Kingsguard but he couldn’t, no matter how much he wished he could have done something. I definitely think that these three especially would see the Reader in a different light, even though they know he’s the only one who could possibly get away with doing such a thing, they can’t help but still hold a new found respect for the Reader for standing up to the King like they did. And honestly, it’s about damn time someone did or said something, if it weren’t for the Reader nothing would have been done otherwise. But finally someone is there for their Queen and has her safety in the forefront of their mind for once.

#anxious answers #yandere aerys targaryen #yandere rhaella targaryen #yandere rhaegar targaryen #yandere viserys targaryen #yandere game of thrones concept #yandere concept

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demonic-snake · 2 months

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Alastor's ponytail

Fanfic

Alastor x Lucifer

In the silence of the night the hotel heard quiet footsteps. Lucifer, the ruler of hell, was now shamefully sneaking towards the room of the hated radio demon. This deer infuriated him incredibly. But the desire to find out if he had a deer tail was stronger than hatred. Something fell in Angel Dust’s room and his quiet swearing was heard, and then steps towards the door. Lucifer, who did not hesitate to shoot himself, turned into a snake, coiling around the tarsher, which was now very useful. The door opened slightly and a spider slipped out, holding a pillow in its front hands.

He headed towards Husk's door, knocking gently. It was clear from his face that he was very nervous. There was a sound of grumbling and footsteps, the door was opened by a dissatisfied cat, who, when he saw Angel, stopped frowning and looked at him securely. — Val again?.. He leaned his elbows on the door, looking sympathetically at his friend. - Yes.. Ov sobbed as he continued - He, he-he said... that... It was clear that it was difficult for the spider to speak — He said what if I don’t come back. Then he will destroy the hotel. Tears appeared in Anthony's eyes and he buried his face in Haskerd's fur. - Angel, we won’t give you to him... don’t be afraid... I won’t give you away... The winged one himself did not believe what he was saying. He hugged Dust to himself and whispered - Let's go to me.. I...

But a kiss on the lips did not let him finish. The spider looked away in embarrassment, regretting what he had done. But contrary to his expectations, Husk did not push away or start screaming. He just wiped the tears from the porn star's face and dragged him into the room. Lucifer quietly sank to the floor. Now he knew too much. Footsteps were heard again along the corridor, and cursing everything in the world, he jumped into the first room he came across. Charlie walked past his hiding place, smiling at something. The king of ducks was about to leave when he noticed Alastor. He was lying on the bed in a red oversized T-shirt and black blinders, hugging a stuffed deer that looked so much like him. There was a blissful smile on his face, it seems he was dreaming of something good The blonde hesitated, afraid to wake up this radio deer. Although. he is the ruler of hell, after all, why should he be afraid of some overlord? He walked over to the bed and sat down on it. She woke up a little from the weight of one and a half pounds. His hand gently touched the demon's ears, brushing over them. They were soft and warm, like a toy Alastor winced in his sleep and pressed them to his head. But the fallen angel even stopped. He stroked the fawn's ears again and scratched the left one. After running his hand through his hair. They turned out to be soft and smelled like some kind of delicious shampoo. Having swiped his ears one last time, Lutz began to take off his shorts. Beneath them was a small, neat deer tail of a reddish-brown color. Duck Ruler looked in fascination at this seemingly impossible detail in Alastor. He wondered if it was as soft as the ears of a deer. And he carefully took it in his hands, running his hand over the fluff. The tail turned out to be even softer than the ears. And Lucifer again wanted to stroke him - Hmm Hmm. Duck King, can you get off me?

#hazbin hotel #hotel #alastor #lucifer morningstar #alastor the radio demon #alastor x lucifer #devil

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moodymelanist · 1 year

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My Fire Was Fate With You

so... instead of finishing the many, MANY wips I have floating around, I decided to go for a little genderbent acotar action. hope you all enjoy female!cassian and nesta<3

Summary: Nesta lets Feyre set her up on (yet another) blind date, but her sister fails to mention the most important detail: her friend Cass is a woman.

(Or, the one where female!Cassian and Nesta get together)

Word Count: 4,445 words

Read on AO3 here!

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Nesta

Nesta sighed heavily once she realized her phone was ringing in the middle of her workout. Sighing, she changed her treadmill settings so she was walking at a reasonable pace instead of sprinting so hard that she worried her sports bra would snap.

“Hello?” she answered, hoping she didn’t sound too out of breath.

“Hey, Nesta!” Feyre replied. Her sister sounded way too chipper for six in the evening, so Nesta figured she must be at happy hour or something. “How’s it going?”

“I’m wonderful, you’re wonderful,” Nesta responded, rolling her eyes with affection. She loved her sister, but she knew Feyre only tended to call when she wanted something instead of just texting. “Get to the point, please. I’m at the gym.”

“Fine, fine,” Feyre agreed with a laugh. “I volunteered you for a blind date with one of my friends.”

“Absolutely not,” Nesta immediately shot it down. “Do you not remember how the last ones went? Because I do.”

Feyre had tried to set Nesta up with her friend Lucien a few months prior, which had been so awkward that Nesta had texted Elain begging her to show up at the restaurant to save her. Lucien had taken one look at Elain and declared on the spot that it was love at first sight, and Elain – instead of sticking to the script and acting like she’d had a serious emergency – had shooed Nesta away from the table and taken her spot instead. They’d been going steady ever since, and Nesta couldn’t even find it in her to be mad at her sister for finding her soul mate or whatever. She and Lucien were just so clearly made for each other that the incident was funny instead of infuriating.

After that, though, there was Azriel. She hadn’t met another man in such dire need of therapy since her last conversation with her father, and considering Owain had been six feet under for years, she supposed Azriel could take the top spot. She hadn’t spoken to Feyre for a week after that, and she’d made her sister promise to stop trying to use her matchmaking skills.

Skills had been a generous word. Clearly, so had that promise.

“Come on, Nesta,” Feyre wheedled. Nesta could practically hear her pouting over the phone. “I know I promised, but Cass is nothing like those other guys!”

Nesta just sighed and turned her treadmill settings up slightly. She was clearly going to need the extra workout. “Oh yeah? What’s he like, then?”

“That would defeat the purpose of a blind date,” Feyre told her, deflecting the question with ease. “Just give it a chance, please? I absolutely promise it’ll be the last blind date I’ll send you on.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“...A chance at finding true love and happiness?”

“That’s rich, even for you.”

“Ugh. I’ll pay for your dinner?”

“Fine. Tell me when and where to be.”

“Yay! I promise you won’t regret it!”

“Whatever. I’m going to finish my workout.”

“I love you so much, Nesta! I’ll Venmo you.”

“Love you too, but only if you Zelle me. Bye.”

Nesta sighed as she hung up the phone, already feeling drained. The things she’d do for her sister never failed to amaze her.

✵✵✵✵✵✵

True to her word, Feyre sent Nesta more than enough to cover the dinner she’d coerced Nesta into attending. She also sent Nesta over all the details for the blind date, which was how Nesta found herself at one of the nicer restaurants in downtown Velaris a few days later. She’d put in a little more effort than usual since Feyre had seemed so eager for her to say yes, deciding to leave her hair down, put on a little more makeup than usual, and wear her favorite sweater dress and boots.

When she walked into the restaurant, there were a few people waiting around, but no one that matched her usual type. She pulled out her phone and checked the time – it was 7:23, so her date had a few minutes to arrive still – and would’ve been content to wait, but it seemed the universe had other plans.

“Nesta?”

Nesta turned at the sound of her name and her jaw dropped of its own accord. Feyre hadn’t given too many details about who she was setting Nesta up with this time, but her sister had failed to inform her of one very important detail.

The person standing in front of her was another woman.

Granted, she was a very attractive woman, but she was still a woman. Her hair wasn’t as long as Nesta’s, but her curls looked soft and shiny underneath the restaurant lighting. She was wearing a patterned blue shirt tucked into a pair of dark blue pants, and she’d left so many buttons unfastened that Nesta wondered just how much faith she had in the shirt.

“Hi,” she said with a grin. Nesta only had to tilt her head up slightly to make eye contact, which was a feat in and of itself considering she was 5’8. “I’m Cassandra, but everyone calls me Cass for short. You’re even more gorgeous in person.”

Nesta felt like her brain was short-circuiting, but she managed to return Cass’ handshake before introducing herself. Feyre had to be playing a joke on her — right? “Right. Um. I’m Nesta. Would you excuse me for a second?”

She shoved her coat into the other woman’s arms and dug her phone out of her purse, already dialing her sister’s number as she stalked her way to the bathroom. This was low, even for Feyre, and she was determined to give her sister a piece of her mind the moment that phone call connected.

“Hello?” Feyre answered on the second ring.

“Feyre Lynette Archeron,” Nesta hissed into the phone, her heart pounding in her chest. “What the fuck?”

“Hello to you too, Nesta Rhea Archeron,” Feyre replied pleasantly, like Nesta wasn’t ready to throttle her through the screen. “You must’ve met Cass. What do you think?”

“What do I think?” Nesta snapped, trying hard to keep her voice down. She didn’t know if anyone else was in the bathroom, and she didn’t want any more people overhearing this conversation than necessary. “I think you can go fuck yourself. This isn’t funny.”

“I’m not trying to be funny, Nesta.” Feyre took a deep breath like she was trying to keep her own temper in check. “I was just…”

Nesta pinched the bridge of her nose. “You were just what?”

“I was just trying to help,” Feyre responded. She sounded like she was gritting her teeth, and Nesta felt a glimmer of satisfaction that her sister was just as irritated as she was. “You’ve always had shit luck with men. You don’t even sound like you like them very much, not even in a ‘haha I hate men but at least the dick is good’ kind of way like the rest of us. Have you ever considered that maybe… you’re just not that into them?”

“That’s ridiculous,” Nesta seethed, indignant. Of course she liked men. Maybe she wasn’t as touchy-feely as Feyre was with Rhys, and maybe she didn’t enjoy sex with her boyfriends as much as Elain seemed to with Lucien — was that a crime? “You need to stay out of my fucking business.”

“I wasn’t trying to piss you off, I promise,” Feyre told her. “I just thought maybe you’d do better with another option, and I didn’t want to scare you off by asking you ahead of time.”

“That’s a really strange way of saying I’m sorry,” Nesta snarked. “I’m not gay, and if you’d bothered to run this by me ahead of time, you could’ve saved me and your friend both our time.”

“Come on, Nesta,” Feyre attempted to cajole her. “Cass is really cool! She’s hilarious, she’s smart, she can cook, and she’s gorgeous. If you don’t want it to be a date, you could at least try being her friend.”

“She came here expecting a date, and you didn’t even do her the decency of telling her that I’m not into women,” Nesta whisper-yelled, any goodwill Feyre may have earned rapidly evaporating once again. “You owe both of us apologies, Feyre. I hope you’re happy, because this is the last blind date you’re ever setting me up on.”

It was supremely satisfying to hang up on Feyre after that, and Nesta took a few more moments to collect herself in the bathroom before she could even think of leaving to face Cass again. What was she supposed to even say? Sorry, my sister thought I was a closeted lesbian and decided to set me up on a date with a woman without telling me. Do you want any appetizers?

The entire situation was preposterous. Nesta had never had any reason to question her sexuality, and she wasn’t going to start now. Surely everyone admired the female form – it was more symmetrical than the male one, that was for sure. And a lot of people were like Nesta when it came to physical touch, something she blamed on her parents for not being nearly as affectionate as she needed growing up. That didn’t mean she wasn’t straight.

Either way, she needed to get herself together. She was Nesta Archeron, for fuck’s sake — she’d survived law school, so she could certainly survive whatever painfully awkward interaction she was going to have. She allowed herself one more deep breath before turning and walking out of the bathroom entirely, easily spotting Cass still waiting for her near the entrance.

Cass perked up once she noticed Nesta had returned from the bathroom, but her excitement quickly dimmed once she noticed the look on Nesta’s face. “I take it Feyre didn’t tell you everything?”

“She failed to mention a few things, yeah,” Nesta replied shortly. She forced herself to take a deep breath before meeting the other woman’s gaze. “Sorry. That’s not your fault, and I shouldn’t be taking it out on you.”

“It’s fine,” Cass answered. She put her hands in her pockets just for something to do, and Nesta struggled not to be obvious about how she was tracking the way those golden brown muscles flexed in the process.

They stood in awkward silence for a few moments before Cass took a deep breath and handed Nesta back her coat, clearly preparing herself to say something. Whatever it was, Nesta could at least do her the courtesy of hearing her out. No matter how mad she was at her sister, she didn’t need to take it out on some random stranger.

“Look, I’m not going to pressure you into anything or whatever,” Cass said, her hazel eyes soft as she looked at Nesta. “But we’re already here, right? Let’s just have a nice dinner and we can go our separate ways after if you really hate me so much.”

“Okay,” Nesta replied after a minute. She resolutely ignored the way Cass’ answering smile made her palms feel clammy. “And for the record, I don’t hate you. My sister just can’t help minding other people’s business.”

“Yeah, my brothers are the same way,” Cass responded with a little laugh. “My entire family, really. Fucking meddlers.”

They made their way over to the hostess after that, Cass standing back to let Nesta go first as they made their way to their table. They’d been lucky enough to get a secluded little booth, and Nesta sighed happily once she realized she realized she was right next to one of the vents. She’d always ran cold, especially when she got nervous, and she needed all the extra help she could get right now.

“So,” Cass said once they’d ordered drinks and an appetizer.

“So,” Nesta replied, the nerves coming back with a vengeance. Cass looked even more beautiful under the mood lighting of the restaurant, and it was almost too easy to get lost in those hazel eyes. “How do you know Feyre?”

“We go to the same kickboxing class,” Cass answered easily. “I’m how she met Rhys, actually.”

Nesta vaguely remembered hearing about this. “Oh, that’s right. So I guess the real question is how do you know Rhys?”

“He’s basically my brother,” Cass responded with a wry tilt of her mouth. “My dad was never in the picture, and my mom died when I was in middle school. Rhys’ family took me in.”

“Oh,” Nesta said. “I’m glad you had them.”

“Yeah, me too.” Cass took a deep sip of her cocktail before changing the topic. “I would ask how you know Feyre, but you don’t seem like you like stupid questions.”

Nesta laughed despite herself. “I don’t, but I’ll humor you anyway. She’s my youngest sister, and definitely the most annoying out of the three of us.”

“Cut her some slack,” Cass joked, mirroring Nesta’s smile. “You know youngest siblings can’t help it.”

“I wish she would try,” Nesta joked right back. “You wouldn’t believe just how bad she is once she decides to meddle.”

Cass just smirked in a way that made Nesta’s body tense with anticipation. “Well, I can’t say I’m complaining.”

They took a break from their conversation once their appetizer arrived, taking a few minutes to order their entrees and dig into the food before them. Nesta found herself staring too long at Cass, especially her fingers as she popped a piece of calamari into her mouth, and desperately fought the blush that was taking over her cheeks. If Cass noticed, she thankfully didn’t say anything.

“So what do you do?” Nesta asked curiously.

“I’m a teacher,” Cass answered proudly. Fuck, Nesta really liked that. “I teach world history to a bunch of hormonal high schoolers, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. How about you?”

“I’m a lawyer,” Nesta responded. “I’ve been at my firm for about four years now.”

Cass reached for another piece of calamari. “No time to date, then?”

“What?” Nesta asked, confused. She reached for her own piece just for something to do, flushing again when she realized Cass was tracking her movements the same way Nesta had done to her only a few minutes ago. “I… are we not on a date right now?”

“So you’re counting this as a date, then?” Cass fired back, amused. “And don’t mind me. I’m just trying to figure out a good explanation for why you don’t have a girlfriend.”

“I – no,” Nesta replied. Cass was clearly having fun with the new topic, but Nesta wouldn’t let herself be so easily flustered. “Feyre’s an asshole. I’m not into women.”

“You sure?” Cass leaned forward with a grin and Nesta had to fight to keep her eyes away from all the skin suddenly on display. “I don’t think she would have set us up if that was true, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that,” Nesta said with a scowl. Based on the look of pure glee on Cass’ face, Nesta knew immediately that it had been the wrong thing to say, and she resigned herself to hearing the nickname for the rest of the evening. “And what happened to not pressuring me into anything?”

“Nobody’s pressuring you,” Cass replied, the portrait of serenity as she leaned back into her chair. “But you’ve been looking at me a little too much to say you don’t like women.”

“Because I don’t,” Nesta insisted. She took a sip of her cocktail and let the alcohol settle her nerves a little bit. “I’ve dated men my whole life!”

“Yeah, because that’s the determining factor,” Cass replied with a playful roll of her eyes. “Case closed, your honor.”

They took another break from the conversation to dig into their food as it arrived – eggplant parm for Cass, and spaghetti and meatballs for Nesta – but Nesta knew the reprieve wouldn’t last for long. Cass was clearly having fun needling Nesta, and despite her best efforts, Nesta would admit this maybe sort of date was more fun than she’d been expecting.

“All I’m saying is that you shouldn’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” Cass said as she twirled spaghetti on her fork. “I mean, I didn’t figure out that I was lesbian until my freshman year of college. I wasted so much time trying to convince myself otherwise.”

“What?” Nesta replied, shocked that Cass could be so open about this. “But – what do you mean?”

“I hated men touching me,” Cass answered. “I mean, I didn’t mind when my friends touched me or whatever. But don’t even get me started on how much the sex fucking sucked.”

“Sucked…how?” Nesta asked cautiously, suddenly hanging onto every word. This was hitting a little too close to home for her, but she didn’t want to examine yet just how close it was.

“I mean, if you hate being touched by men, no shit you’re not gonna enjoy fucking them,” Cass responded bluntly. She took a quick pause to take a bite of her food. “Don’t get me wrong, nobody ever forced me to do anything or whatever, but it just felt like something I was supposed to enjoy when it always felt like more of a chore.”

“But doesn’t everyone think that?” Nesta followed up, confused. She knew she’d grown up with some pretty antiquated ideals thanks to her mother, but she’d always just assumed her female friends had been exaggerating about how much they liked having sex for the sake of their partner’s egos. “Happy husband, happy life and all that.”

Cass stared at her for a few moments like she couldn’t believe what Nesta was saying. “Oh, sweetheart. No .”

“It’s not even your business,” Nesta replied, suddenly embarrassed. What the hell was she doing, talking to a stranger about her sex life in the middle of a nice restaurant? “I don’t even know why we’re talking about this.”

“I think you know,” Cass told her seriously. At the sheer panic that must have been coming off Nesta, she abruptly changed tactics, that familiar smirk coming back as she added, “but in case you don’t, I’d be delighted to educate you.”

“Shut up.” Nesta studiously ignored the sound of Cass laughing as she aggressively dug into her food, cheeks burning all the while. “I have a professional degree. I don’t need more educating.”

“I’m just saying,” Cass continued to tease her, still laughing. “As a teacher, I think you’d benefit from a more hands-on approach.”

“With lines like that, I’d hate to see your performance reviews,” Nesta retorted with a roll of her eyes.

“Trust me, they’re all glowing,” Cass fired back with a smug look. “I’d be more than happy to show you my references.”

“Oh my God,” Nesta huffed, laughing again. “That’s fucking awful.”

Cass just waggled her eyebrows, and Nesta noticed she had a scar cutting through the right one that only added to her appeal. “That’s the only time I’ll let you put fucking and awful in the same sentence when it comes to me. Enjoy it while it lasts.”

The rest of the meal passed quickly, the two of them bantering back and forth and keeping the laughing going for the rest of the meal. Cass even grabbed the bill before Nesta could pretend to reach for her wallet.

“You know, for someone who won’t see what’s right in front of her, I had a really good time tonight,” Cass said once they left the restaurant. They’d both parked in the same garage, so it made sense to keep walking together until they reached their cars.

“I… actually had a pretty good time, too,” Nesta admitted. It was true – Cass was hilarious, and she had a way of lowering Nesta’s defenses with every well-timed joke. It definitely didn’t hurt that she was easy on the eyes, and she’d given Nesta a lot to think about tonight even if they never saw each other again.

“Enough to hang out again?” Cass asked hopefully.

“Maybe,” Nesta answered, looking down at her feet. It was almost too hard to look at Cass, almost like staring at the sun for too long. “You gave me a lot to think about.”

“Playing hard to get,” Cass replied, her voice light. “I see how it is, sweetheart.”

Nesta just laughed as they walked inside the garage, quickly making their way toward the elevator. “I’m being serious! I really do have a lot to think about.”

“Don’t hurt yourself with all that thinking,” Cass teased with her own laugh. She maneuvered herself so she was standing in front of Nesta, those hazel eyes suddenly so close that Nesta could see the flecks of green in them. “Can I kiss you?”

Nesta swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest so loudly she wondered if Cass could hear it. “Um…”

“I’m a big girl,” Cass said with the ghost of a smile. “It won’t hurt my feelings if you say no. I was just wondering if it would help with all that thinking you have to do.”

“I’m not saying no,” Nesta eventually replied. What would it hurt to say yes, anyway? She could easily prove Cass – and Feyre – wrong and go on with her life as usual. “Just… go slow.”

“I can do slow,” Cass agreed, and then she was leaning in before Nesta had the chance to second-guess herself.

Nesta’s eyes fluttered shut of their own accord once their lips touched, and it was like every nerve ending was suddenly lit up. Cass’ lips were warm and soft and gentle as they moved against Nesta’s, and Nesta found herself stepping closer so she could feel the other woman’s body pressed against hers. She’d never felt like this kissing any of the guys she’d dated, especially not the first one, and it was all she could do to keep her hands to herself once she felt Cass’ tongue against hers.

Oh. Oh. Maybe she had been missing out all this time. If the kissing felt this good, maybe she could finally understand why Feyre and Elain were constantly throwing themselves at their boyfriends.

Cass pressed one last kiss to Nesta’s lips before pulling away, her hazel eyes warily assessing Nesta’s face. “Good?”

“Yeah,” Nesta eventually answered, trying her best to pull herself together and failing miserably. Fuck. She wanted more, and she would do anything to get it. “Actually… really good.”

“Yeah?” Cass replied, her smile slowly growing wider the longer they looked at each other. “Maybe Feyre had a point, huh?”

“You don’t have to be so smug about it,” Nesta grumbled. God, Feyre was going to be insufferable once Nesta told her about this.

“I think I’m allowed to be smug about it,” Cass fired back, her smile turning into more of a smirk. “It’s not every day that you’re someone’s gay awakening.”

“Just shut up and kiss me again,” Nesta ordered.

Cass thankfully didn’t waste any more time bickering. She leaned in for another kiss, and Nesta let herself actually touch Cass the way she wanted to a few minutes ago. One hand moved up to cup the side of Cass’ face, while the other slid its way down to her hip, tentatively exploring the curve of her body. It felt… good.

“Do you want to come back to mine?” Nesta blurted out before she could stop herself.

Cass lit up like a Christmas tree. “Yeah, definitely. What floor are you parked on?”

They held hands the entire walk back to their cars, and the kiss Cass left her with had Nesta’s lips tingling all the way back to her apartment. Thankfully, she’d taken the time to clean up before she left for the date, so when they eventually made their way upstairs, Nesta didn’t have to awkwardly scramble to clean anything.

“Nice place,” Cass said, looking around with clear appreciation.

“Thanks,” Nesta responded. She felt a little exposed having Cass here – she almost never took people back to her place – but she shoved it down before shifting into hostess mode. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“Just water’s okay,” Cass answered with a smile.

Nesta headed toward the kitchen to grab them both something to drink, and when she came back into the living room, Cass had slipped out of her coat and shoes to wait for her on the couch. Nesta did the same once she got close enough, gently placing the glasses on the coffee table before making herself comfortable and draping her legs across the other woman’s lap.

Instead of immediately pouncing on one another, they ended up settling on the couch to talk first. Nesta had never connected so quickly with someone, and her sister’s assessment of Cass rang true the entire time. Not only was she even funnier when they were behind closed doors, but Nesta found herself gravitating toward Cass with every gentle sweep of her thumb against Nesta’s ankle.

When they did finally pounce on one another… Nesta didn’t think she had the proper words to describe her experience. She’d never been so relaxed and exhausted at the same time, but she wasn’t so tired that she forgot that she owed her sister a text. Reaching over Cass’ equally relaxed frame, she dug around for her phone and pulled it out to send a few quick texts Feyre’s way.

Nesta Archeron, 1:19 AM

Hey

I owe you a huge apology.

You were right and I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. I know you were just trying to help, and I’m sorry for freaking out.

Anyways. I think I might be lesbian?

It was the first time Nesta had said the words out loud to somebody else, and her heart pounded as she pressed send for the final time. It felt like so many things were suddenly making sense, and while she couldn’t believe she’d spent so much time trying to convince herself she liked men, she knew it was part of the journey.

Besides, if the journey ended with the number of orgasms Nesta had had tonight, it had been more than worth it.

Surprisingly, Feyre texted back within a few minutes of Nesta’s last text delivering. Unsurprisingly, she was even smugger than Cass had been after their first kiss.

Feyre Archeron, 1:21 AM

YES I KNEW IT !!!!!!

Seriously so happy for you though Nesta !!!!!

I love u and thanks for trusting me with this !!!!

& it’s all good about earlier. I’ll hold back on more I told you so's if you buy me breakfast tomorrow<3

Assuming you can walk once Cass is through with you 😉

Nesta just snorted before she sent Feyre a selfie, complete with both her and Cass flipping off the camera.

#acotar #acosf #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #female!cassian #lesbian!nessian #alternate universe #moodymelanistwrites #⭐️

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ossifer-bones · 1 year

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20 + chasefield (i think that's their ship name?) for the fic ask game!

i whipped this up in about an hour and i really had fun with it! alt timeline chasefield my beloved <3

“Don’t lie to me.”

Victoria feels her insides curdle at the words. It’s a two-tone feeling composed of the dread of being seen right through and that nervousness she always feels when she hears Maxine talk like that, words honeyed and dripping with smugness. Maxine is always like that around her, wearing the grin of someone who knows something you don’t. It’s infuriating.

She meets that familiar mocking smile on Maxine’s face with her signature annoyed glare that usually makes people shrink away from her. It’s a good attempt, but she knows right away that the heat she feels rising in her cheeks ruins the image. Something like that won’t just slip by Maxine's radar.

Maxine confirms her fears as she leans in closer, ignoring her expression, placing her hands on Victoria’s desk as she shrinks the distance between them, and drops her voice to a conspiratorial tone. “I actually think it’s cute that you care so much. It means you’re passionate.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Max—” Victoria relishes the brief flicker that mars the teasing smile, a small victory, the crack in that frustratingly pretty and freckled veneer—“because I couldn’t care less. It’s one contest.” She curls her lip. “If you think winning once is any sort of proof that you’re the better one out the two of us, then you’re dreaming.”

She doesn’t know why Maxine’s such a weirdo about getting her name shortened, but it’s the only weak spot that the girl has which she knows about. Victoria hates having to rely on it for that reason: using it is always a cheap shot, a fallback for when she has nothing else. Cutting words have always come easy to her but there’s something about Maxine that makes her falter, forcing her to either stay silent or risk stumbling over her words in front of the one person who’s unafraid of capitalising on the opportunity.

The flicker of annoyance passes and Maxine gets that fucking look on her face. That thing she does whenever she’s about to take a picture where she widens her eyes slightly and suddenly becomes so present, when the blue of her irises turns a striking shade and her gaze threatens to pierce through whatever she’s focused on. This time Victoria is the subject of her unadulterated attention, and there’s no camera in her hands to obscure the intensity of her expression.

“I never said I thought I was the better one, Tori.” She tilts her head and frowns, a crease forming between her eyebrows. Her voice takes on a new quality. She still sounds smug, unbearably so, but that ever present rasp makes itself known a lot more keenly and it is the exact opposite of what Victoria needs to hear right now. “If that’s what you’re really scared of… I could always partner up with you and show you a few techniques? You have a good eye for detail, but sometimes you miss out on giving your framing a little personal touch, you know?”

Fuck. She’s talking about photography. Don’t fucking go there, you perv.

“You know where to find me. Just drop by after classes today.” She pauses, uncomfortably close to Victoria, and her words take on an entirely new meaning when her voice drops even lower and becomes a breathy whisper that completely changes the mood of the conversation. “Consider it.”

Those two words ring in Victoria’s ears as Maxine walks away before she can muster a reply, and continue to do so for the rest of the lesson. And the next.

Consider it.

They’re on her mind when she knocks on Maxine’s door, two hours after the last class of the day, and gets pulled inside by her wrist. She learns a few things that night, none of which involve using a camera.

It still doesn't feel like a victory.

prompt list here! feel free to send me one

#chasefield #victoria chase #max caulfield #life is strange #writing prompt #my writing #also melo i'm legit curious if this is the ship you intended lmao #thank you for the prompt

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duchessas · 1 year

Note

i like to think that one was for sure to send her mother into blind rage (the tattoo) so i think she put on her thigh, and it would be almost her inner thigh, however not so hidden. she’d wear short shorts or tight small dresses so that it was a fun and dangerous game to play around her mother. emily prentiss is the devious child we all know she was! it’s a small pepper cigarette, it’s supposed to be meaningless, but emily associates it with italy when she was 15. it’s what she tells aaron the first night they spend together when he takes his sweet time to learn every inch of her body. when he asks what it’s supposed to mean, she deflects, it’s too early she tells herself. she ends up telling him after paris.

the second tattoo was right after she put ian in jail. she’s lost and exhausted and scared. one day she goes out and opens the door of the tattoo parlor shop and she sits in the chair and she gets a long skinny pepper and there are small flames beneath it. it’s right under her left breast and the pain when she gets it numbs her in every way. aaron laughs at this one as he runs his thumb across it for the first time. when she dies for seven months, he’s in distraught. it’s when she comes back and after a week she’s in his bed and they’re talking and he finds it again, telling her how much he’d missed kissing her in the same spot. she stiffens and he gives her the famous hotchner frown. when she finally tells him, his blood runs cold and regret pools at his stomach when he remembers how he’d laughed at it when he’d first saw it. she tells him it’s alright because she KNOWS what he’s thinking and they talk (and cry) until they fall asleep, and emily thinks that things might be going back to normal. (she doesn’t run away to london!)

canon or not.. this is how i see emily’s tattoos and how aaron would react to them (bc HE HAS. seen them) let me know what you think! sorry this is so long, just rambles :(

Oh my gosh, please don’t apologise and feel free to send me rambles anytime - I LOVED reading this so much! There was so much detail and it’s so very poignant and so very Emily in all of the details. And yes x a million to the fact that Aaron has seen all of tattoos - we know he has seen ALL of her! 🥹

In my personal head canon, Emily has a classic base of the spine tattoo she got to infuriate her mother because Emily as the original devious child holds my HEART. I also like to think she has another at her ribs, but that’s all I’m going to say for now as I’m going to reveal more in my next fic 🤐😏 hopefully the wait on that won’t be too long but, because I am me, it’s unwieldy af ! x

#Ellie speaks #anon #please seriously come and tell me all of your headcanons at any time I love reading them #hotchniss #ask

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jemsboner · 1 year

Text

I read chain of thorns btw, it was fine but I have a lot of a lot of little complaints that just add up lol

- i miss the earlier books that centered around just the heroine and were almost exclusively from her pov. Now the povs feel like they change every two seconds because the main casts are just way too huge and all always needed something to do.

- in a similar vein, i don’t care about side couples and I never have. I end up skipping like 50 or so pages a book because every. single. character. has to be in love and I have to hear about every single trial and tribulation and make out for some reason. I understand romance is a big aspect of these and don’t get me wrong, i LOVE romance, but these books are so bloated with every teenager having to have one on one moments constantly that I feel like the group dynamics take a hit and even big plot moments feel rushed to make more room for side stuff. Your 800 page book should not feel rushed.

-the family tree being not correct has been a mysterious detail since cp2 and the answer being some lady just did it wrong cause she felt like it is so stupid 😭

-James and Cordelia being in a fight based on a miscommunication for half the book just for drama is infuriating. The reason James does not tell Cordelia about Grace barely makes sense and is only there JUST so he won’t tell her and make the drama last longer.

-the reasons for the adults to be out of the picture just so the kids can be main characters are getting so unbelievable. I was actually interested in Tessa’s trial but too bad we didn’t get to see any of it, and then they all just go to Alicante for a quick trip as if the world isn’t literally ending 😭

-similarly, the lengths tlh goes through to make sure that the tid cast does not steal any spotlight really hurts it I think. Obviously I’m biased and I just want to see Tessa but I don’t think that’s a crazy ask? Like the plot revolves around the fact that her father is a powerful demon and how that affects her kids, but we don’t even get to hear from her after a whole mob accuses her of consorting with Belial. In tmi the adults were not the main focus, but they were *there* and they did things outside of giving vague life advice and then being offscreen for 95% of the books. It’s just feels weird, not even in a stan way, but in these kids’ parents are NEVER around way lmao. Will got to be the designated spokesperson for all of the tid characters and everyone else gets to say nothing ever.

- I’m tired of the demon realms. I never wanna go to a demon realm again.

-Christopher was my favorite of the side characters and I don’t feel like that much weight was given to his death to the point where I was actually surprised when he stayed dead lmao.

Wow I sound like such a hater but i promise im not trying to be 😭 i found it fun enough to still read it within a day, like it’s fine. I just don’t feel a lot of love in the books anymore, they’re very copy and paste and follow a very specific formula but I guess thats what happens when you write at such a rapid pace in the same universe for over a decade. I say all of this but I’m still gonna read the next one lol. Until next time 🫡✌️

#does anyone active still even follow this blog?#every time I post I lose followers probably cause people didn’t realize they still follow me and haven’t cared about these books in years #I’m still here tho…I’m still here

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docglitch · 1 year

Text

I'm a Bartender, I don't tend to your heart

Authors note: this is my second time posting my writing, please be kind. I'm gonna post stuff like this haphazardly, so please let me know if you want more.

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: Mentions of memory loss, being the therapist, etc. Let me know if there are any more!

Jazz music served as background noise as waiters scurried to and from their tables and the kitchen, trying to meet the demand of this particularly busy night. I kept the glasses filled up at the bar, making speed a priority rather than quality or preciseness. The residents didn’t seem to mind, all too engrossed in their own affairs or getting shitfaced to get over the tragedy that was their place among the hero rankings.

Working at a hero’s only bar was certainly an ideal job to anyone taking it at face value, with the rather high pay and the experience of meeting such established heros. However, newbies soon realize that the lavish job was met with a lot of hours and long nights, paired with the high ranking heros they were hoping to meet turning out to be the ones in the low levels trying to kill time and drink away their sorrows. Whenever a well known hero comes in, it's always just to talk with the other heros while brushing off the staff. The “job of broken dream” is how it’s referred to by staff. Oh well, it pays and I only have to take orders. What else could I ask for?

“Bartender, refill!” I looked over to the source of the voice, taking in a sharp inhale when I saw it was a young hero already looking like a tomato and a little drool coming from the end of his mouth. I took the drink, and made it, making sure the alcohol balance was skewed and not as much as it was before, policies be damned.

This was another reason the turnover rate was so high here. Due to our non-disclosure agreements, when drunk, many heros either were mean or sometimes cried out their sob stories while their glass caught their tears. You could see the physical exhaustion on them and many newbies were crushed under the pressure of newfound responsibilities, being scrutinized under the public and dealing with the piranhas that are the media and paparazzi.

They regularly grace the staff with tales of woe as they cry into their glasses, making every detail graphic, making the weak stomached take their breaks early to throw up or break down. I myself have had to comfort a hero while they told their experiences, and it makes me sad, but not for them.

I feel sorry for the people who have them as their hero, knowing how much weight they already have on their shoulders, I’m sure they won’t stop til they are killed or just snap.

The noise of the ticket machine brought me back to reality. I walked over and groaned at the order.

Surprise me ;)

I felt my blood start to rise in temperature, crinkling the ticket and ultimately scrunching it into a ball. These types are the most infuriating to deal with.

I could have dealt with a ‘surprise me’ drink and done something simple, but to add a winky face as if I had the time to make your drink perfect as I hope you come up to talk to me and say how good the drink was? Oh hell no, you try this at peak season, you get the worst. I nudged my co-worker as she passed by, giving her an evil grin. She immediately knew what was happening and went to get our “special” mix.

She came back with the bottle as I poured ice in our tallest glass, and her eyes widened

“You really gonna give ‘em that much?”

“Why, of course! One sip, and he’ll probably regret it and order another drink, and if he’s stupid, he’ll go to the hospital. Worst case: He tells the boss, I'll get another warning to add to the pile and they’ll let me stay on since they know they can’t lose me,” I said gleefully, a smile mile wide.

“… I’ll get one of the waitstaff to take over here so you can take your break.”

“Much appreciated.”

The order was sent out, and I clocked out for my break. I took residence in the storage room and plugged in my headphones to try and block out the noise. I scrolled through the photos and such from my camera roll, making mental notes on the ones I don't remember taking when no alcohol was involved. I clicked on a video, and smiled as my little nephew looked in complete admiration at the computer screen covered in random letters and numbers, exclaiming.”I CAN READ THIS!I KNOW WHAT THIS DOES!”. He found his quirk, lucky one.

My smile fell when I realized why I couldn't remember this happening. I sighed as I turned off my phone. My quirk was a good thing, it helps me. But, I hate that I lose valuable memories because of it. One hard drive and ‘poof’, it’s all gone.

My phone went off, taking me from my thoughts. I looked at the screen, and furrowed my brow.

I opened the message, and became even more confused.

Soooo… you remember ‘:)’ guy? He just downed half of the special mix and wants to talk to the one who made it. Btw, maaaaajjjoor cutie and I’ll take GLADY him if you don’t want him.

Bitch how????

IDK????

OMG HES COMING OVER GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE

Mf- Fine, omw.

I stuffed my phone in my pocket and booked it out of the storage closet, turning the corner and dusting off my uniform. I walked behind the bar, taking a ticket and busing myself with the drink. My coworker slinked up to me and nodded in the direction of the other end of the bar. I looked over and scanned at the gentle man up and down. Black spiked hair, black eyes, pale skin, little black vest covering his pectorals and only those, muscular, black elbow braces and green weights on his hands. His name clicked when I noticed the green motif n his vest.

“What’s the fuss, that’s just Grand.” I stated, focusing back on the drink.

“Wow, you have no taste.”

“He’s a hero, a customer. You know my policy.”

“Uggghhh, you’re such a bore. Welp, you forfeited him.”

She strutted and began to chat up the young hero. I rolled my eyes, finishing the drink and looking over his info on the tablet.

Hero name:Grand

Real name: Shindo Yo

Times he visited: 1

Ah, fresh meat. That won’t last long. As I added his ticket to his profile, my co worker stomped back, and stood by the corner, arms crossed and pouting.

“What’s wrong princess? He wasn’t your prince?” I quipped.

“Shut up. He was an asshole. You two would be a match made in heaven.”

“Thanks, but no thanks.”

I scooched her from the ticket machine, and breathed smirked when there were no tickets left. I looked at the clock. Fifteen more minutes till shifts end. I was outta here! I grabbed an empty glass and started to wipe it down with a towel to get the time to go by faster. I was so close I could hear my bed calling me-

“Excuse me, are you the one who made my drink?”

Well that certainly wasn't my bed that time.

I turned to see the asshole who my coworker was just complaining about. On the inside I was seething. On the outside, I put on my best customer service smile to hide my displeasure.

“I sure am! How can I help ya?” I asked.

“First, drop the act. I know when people are faking it.” He said, leaning over the counter with his arms on the table.

I sighed and dropped the smile, mustering my best resting bitch face.

“Ok, what do you want?”

“Oh,nothing just to give my compliments!” His smile as he said that seemed sincere, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Hell is should've if he's been drinking that shit all night.

I took a good look at him, scanning him up and down, from the top of his coal hair to his defined abs-

Nope! Focus.

I needed to get out of this situation as fast as possible.

“Uh-huh, well if that was all, thank you and I need to get going-”

“And I have a question.” He interrupted me.

Dammit.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, taking a peek at my watch. To my dismay, I still had thirteen minutes left of my shift.

“Fine, spill.”

“How did someone like you get into working with these low lifes?” He said, gesturing to the crowd of heroes downing drink after drink to get through the night.

Aren't they technically your colleagues? What does that make you?

I pushed that thought aside, I already gave him a bad drink, no need to add more kindle to the fire.

“I got accepted when I applied.” I said, deadpan. He burst out laughing, leaving me bewildered.

“Oh, I’m sorry, what I meant was that your talent seems… unused here" he clarified, taking another sip of his drink. I shuddered, wondering how the hell he can handle that stuff.

"I'm not sure what you mean by 'talent' sir. I'm just a bartender."

He shook his head, smirking as he looked me dead in the eyes.

"What can you tell me about myself? What do you think of me?"

Well that was straightforward. Oh well, he asked for it.

"You're a smartass who likes to pretend he's chill so people let their guard down around you. You always have a smile but constantly scan your surroundings in case of trouble. You have no filter and couldn't give two shits of you hurt someone's feelings. And you always try to get what you want, even at the expense of the people around you. Did I forget to say you're an ass?" I stated, taking an empty glass off the counter and putting it in the sink.

He let out a low whistle, taking another sip of his drink.

"Well, I shouldn't have been too surprised that you were blunt. I like that." He began to tap his fingers on the counter, mimicking the beat of the song playing.

"It would be a shame if someone got to you before I did." He missed, still tapping his fingers.

Please don't elaborate please don't elaborate pleas-

"Especially since it's a cutie like you." He finished, downing the rest of his drink and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Dammit-

"Listen sir, I don't date customers."

"Oh, is that part of the policy?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, my policy."

He sat there regarding me for a few seconds as I stood there,

"Oh well, then I guess I won't be a customer anymore." He said, getting up and walking out. I stood there looking at the door. Where was the sike? I looked at my watch again and saw I was finally free. I booked it out of there, walking to the train station and looking through my missed messages.

BITCH YOU DID NOT JUST LEAVE AFTER THAT.

Shit, I forgot she was there and listening like the nosy ass she is.

After what?

YOU KNOW DAMN WELL. HE LITERALLY FLIRTED WITH YOU, DO YOU WANT TO DIE ALONE???

I groaned and rubbed my temples. A headache was coming on, I could feel it.

And have a hero as a boyfriend? No, you have seen how they are when the windows are closed. I’m not going down that path.

Well, you could have gone on one and seen~~

… You forget I'm not into hookups.

She quit responding after that, and I sat in peace while on the train, scrolling aimlessly through social media when a certain video popped up

EXCLUSIVE: GRAND TELLS ALL

I rolled my eyes, but my interest was piqued. I clicked on it and went down to the comments and seeing what they were saying.

Oh boy he's gonna get mail flooded after this

HE BROKE UP WITH HER??? AFTER 6 YEARS?

Did anyone else notice the smirk and pause after the interviewer asked if he's looking to date again?

Don't mind me just *already writing fanfic*

…Shit. I knew he was in a relationship but I wasn't gonna bring it up, I was gonna tell his girlfriend anonymously though. I facepalmed, dragging my hand down my face as I groaned. This wasn't gonna end well.

—

Did this man really take me seriously?

I scrubbed away at the glass with the towel, trying to zone out. It was Wednesday, notorious for slow days and even slower shifts. It also been a month since my run in with Grand and from his account, he hasn't been back. My co-worker has pointed out that this means he's serious but I just flip her off and continue my job.

"You know, he could have been different." She said, whipping down the counter.

"And he could have put up a front to trick me and leave me as the therapist like most of these heros already do," I shot back, putting the glass down and grabbing another

"You don't know that-"

"Yes I do. They do the same shit. They all break at some point and have some else pick up the pieces because that's all they can do in this god forsaken country," I snapped, glaring at her as she shut up. She looked down and continued with the counter as I cleaned the glass.

I wasn't going to let someone rope me in. Not at all.

The phone rang. I walked over and picked it up.

"It's time." The voice on the other side said. I sighed, put down the glass and towel. My colleague gave me a pitiful look as I walked around to the back. I went up to the office where my boss was waiting. He slid over the CD, patiently waiting. I put my hand on the disc and closed my eyes, letting go. All the memories from the past month flew into the device. All of them. It felt like getting my mind wiped clean, running through the washer to skate everything out.

I opened my eyes and nodded. My boss took back the CD and waved me out of the room. I felt my head become lighter, but my heart felt heavy for some reason. I would have to ask my brother about it. Or consult my journal.

On cue as I walked back behind the bar, my co-worker handed me a little leather book. I leafed through the pages and saw something peculiar.

"What happened with this Grand guy?" I asked, raising my eyebrow. She chuckled, patting me on the shoulder.

"He's someone you drove away, after he flirted with you."

"Oh, thank you,” I said, and went back to work. This happened often, and it’s obvious why. I would simply… forget them. They would be a stranger to me every month. No one would want to deal with it. Deal with me

—

“Well, surprised to see you here.” A voice behind me said. I turned to see a tall man with spiky black hair, big onyx eyes, baggy clothes, and a devilish smirk.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” I asked, quickly grabbing the item I was eyeing on the self.

“Oh playing that game are we? Fine, I’ll play. I’m Yo Shindo.” He stuck out his hand. The name clicked as I shook his hand, and whipped it on my jeans.

“ Grand right?”

“Ooooo straight to the point.”

“Yeah, still not interested.”

He gave a pout, and sad puppy dog eyes

“Awwwww and here I thought we were falling in love.” He whined, following me when I walked off.

“Still a customer.”

“I haven't been back in a month and you know that.”

“Still purchased something”

“A drink you made~~”

Oh hell no.

“Listen, I don’t date customers, nor do I date heros. That’s the rule.”

“Heros too? Damn, you must find all of us annoying.”

“You were the reason no heros was added.” I quipped.

He let out a chuckle, grabbing my basket from my hands.

“What are you-

“I like talking with you, at least let me help with your shopping.” He said. I looked him up and down, knowing there was a catch. But hell, I’ve been bored.

“Fine, only this one time. Then we part ways and never speak again, got it?”

He pondered on the thought, tapping his index finger on his chin in an exaggerated manner.

“Hmmmmm, how about I buy you a drink instead?”

“…. One drink?”

“Just one.”

—

Just one for me, and everyone else at the bar.

Shindo cheered with the residents of the bar, raising his glass and taking a swig. I rolled my eyes, taking a sip of my own. He turned back to me, giving me a big smile.

“Sorry about that, regular here and I have a reputation to uphold.”

I nodded in acknowledgment, looking around. It certainly seemed like it. It had the energy of the sports bar you would see in movies compared to the classy feel of the place I worked out.

“Then, how come you came to my bar?”

He shrugged, swirling his beer glass in his hand.’

“My friends also come here, and let’s just say… they don’t like my bluntness when it comes to the people they eye.”

I snorted, then slapped my hand to my mouth. Shindo cracked a smile, leaning his head on his palm.

“Did I hear a laugh?”

“No, you must have imagined it.”

“You still have your mouth covered.”

I put my hand down and grumbled. I took a big sip of my drink, finishing the glass. I set it down, and started to walk out.

“Hey, wait!”

Shindo caught up with me as I walked out the door. I hated this. I hated how he made my face burn, how he seemed genuine when I knew for a fact that’s what they all seemed like at first. I hate that I was considering breaking my one rule. I hate it I hate-

“Yo, you good?” A hand on my shoulder stopped me. I whirled round and glared.

“Why?”

“Huh?” He quirked up his eyebrow, tilting his head. I gestured to the bar, to the air between us.

“This, you coming onto me, not coming to the bar anymore, then buying me drinks? What is your game here? Didn’t you just break up with your girlfriend?” I spat.

He frowned, looking back at the bar. He then looked back at me, up and down scanning me as I did with every other person. His eyes softened as he locked them with mine. He smiled, finally giving me an answer

“I’m interested in you. You’re blunt, sarcastic and pretty. You know when to call me out on my bullshit and never shy to insult me when I need it.”

I furrowed my brow, shook my head and sighed.

“Is that it?”

“No, it’s not. Me and my girlfriend actually broke up a few years ago when we graduated, we just left the image to the press cause it was easier to pretend then leaf through thirsty fan mail everyday.”

Oh.

“Fine, but you like me cause I’m an ass? Really?”

“That, and a few other things.”

I chewed on my cheek, scrutinizing him as he looked at me. He sighed, and pulled out his phone. He messed with it for a bit before turning the screen towards me.

“I work with your brother. He’s IT for my building.”

I looked at the photo, and smiled. It was my brother, and he was focusing on his work while Shindo took a selfie. God, I see where people would mistake us as twins.

“I see that smile~~”

I shook myself out of it, and focused back at the man himself.

“He tells me a lot about you, how you’re the best role model to his little kid, and how you were the toughest while your dad was out on patrol.”

My blood ran cold, and turned away. He told Shindo, and for what reason.

“Hey, that’s all he told me. Are you ok?”

I took a step back, and stared him down.

“That man was not my father. He was my patient as I played therapist. He’s just another load of trauma walking around saving people.”

I felt the first tear fall and the second following it before Shindo brushed it away with his thumb.

“Is that why you don’t…”

“Date heros? Yeah, they have tendency to dump a lot on the staff, and if my own father did it, I wouldn’t want it for my partner.”

Shindo paused, then took a step forward, taking my hand.

“I promise not to do that. I swear. I’ll communicate, but I won’t burden. I wouldn’t dream of it.”

I pulled my hand away, “How do I know that?”

He cracked a smirk.”I already stayed away from the bar, didn’t I?”

I scoffed, but I felt my heart tingle. I gulped down a breathe, then turned back to him.

“Ok, let’s try.”

He brightened up, taking my hand again and twirling me around.

“Woah, ok, slow down buster.” I said, putting my hand on top of his wrist.

“I said try not to be official. Let’s go out on a date and see where we go.” I suggested. He pouted, but let go of my hand.

“Well, can I at least walk you home?”

I crossed my arms, sharing one of my own smirks.

“It ain’t dark yet…”

He caught on quickly, gleefully taking my arm in his and leading me off. I chuckled. I might as well get a good dinner out of this.

—

“- and then this tornado of like fire and ice shot out of him, and he still failed!” Shindo ended his story. I laughed out loud, wiping a stray tear in my eye.

“Damn, and this was Shoto? Endeavor’s kid?”

“Yes ma'am, one and only.”

“God, must have been tough. I can’t imagine how he dealt with the whole Dabi bit.”

Shindo nodded then took another bite of his food. I followed suit, relishing the flavors. Sushi bar was a good choice, and on a weekday too where there aren’t as many people. There was also the added bonus of eating as much as we needed.

“Y’know, I would have never guessed you were the kind of person to… actually try things.”

I looked at him quizzically, up and down. I smirked, taking a sip of my glass.

“We can’t always judge based on first impressions then, can we?”

Shindo chuckled, nodded to that. We clinked glasses, and finished them off.

“I’ll take the bill-“ He started to say when I cut him off.

“I’ll take it, you paid for drinks already.” I said, already tapping on the screen. Shindo tried to reach for it when I smacked it away. He pulled a face when I finished the payment.

"I could have done it y'know?" He said, taking my hand and pulling me up from my seat. I laughed at his instance,

“You can pay next time.”

It took me just long enough to realize what i just said for his reply to come.

“Next time?” He repeated. I turned around to face him, spotting the huge grin brightening up his face. I smiled myself, and nodded my head.

Why not?

#mha #my hero academia #yo shindo #fanfic

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aquagustd · 2 years

Note

Hi!!! as a response to the other anon who was saying something about how they wanted to see jk fold for oc just so sora can have the smirk wiped off her face… I honestly believe the whole reason she’s acting smug in front of oc at every opportunity in the first place is because she already knows oc has the ability to make him fold and not only that, it would be pretty easy for her to do it as well. And knowing this probably infuriates the shit out of her because in her mind she’s had to do so much shit and bend over backwards just to get jk to be hers, and even now he’s not really hers fully is he? Not with the conflicting feelings he has for oc now and the unresolved trauma between them both and the fact that oc and jk will always have special memories together, them being each other’s first love etc etc!! Idk if it’s really the case or not but her behaviour to me absolutely screams of overcompensation because she’s insecure about something. If she wasn’t she would have sat on the couch and ate the nachos like a normal human being instead of being like 💃🏼💃🏼💅🏽💁🏼‍♀️(this is her flipping her hair thinking anyone in the room actually gives a poop about her hickeys)

Also…. I have a theory/prediction that’s been weighing on my mind 🫣 I hope I’m remembering this correctly and I’m sorry if I’m not but I think you said that hie’s sequel will be about oc reconnecting with the person that she doesn’t end up with at the end of hie, and that it happens a few years after hie ends. and if that’s the case I honestly think it’s gotta be jk that she ends up with someway somehow IDK exactly how it would happen but knowing you I feel like you could write it and have it be 100% believable even though he’s incredibly frustrating and untrustworthy as a character right now!! The reason I think this is because if it were the other way around, and oc and tae end up together, that would mean jk would have to be out of touch with oc for the time period of years for them to be able to “reconnect” and I truly don’t see that happening with how involved they both want to be in junho’s life. Continuing to be a dad to junho inevitably means being in proximity to oc because there is no way oc would let jungkook take smiley and run off to somewhere for years I feel like hell would freeze over before she lets that happen and i also feel like jungkook despite abandoning junho once before would not by his own free will do it again. I think even though he’s not a very good partner he is genuinely trying to be a good dad. And with the way things are going in the story right now both oc and jk are trying to do what’s best for junho which is being as normal of a family unit as they can for his sake. Soooo idk IDK I may be way off the mark and you’re sitting here laughing at my theory because you have something completely different up your sleeve but I just wanted to get it out of my head and down somewhere!!

I really hope you don’t feel pressured or like I’m trying to squeeze any spoilers out of you j promise I’m not!! I just thought hmm that might be plausible and I wanted to share with you <3

everything you said about sora 👏🏻 she is insecure about something, & that something is the fact that she knows jungkook holds oc to a very high level and considering how sora & jk’s relationship started off, that’s gonna be sitting on her shoulders as long as oc is around. and she’s not gonna just sit and do nothing about it…that’s why she’s acting so smug, etc. deep down she knows she’ll never get 100% of jungkook. now the question is how deep does her hate run 🫣🥴

oof that’s a v good theory. tbh it can go either way with jungkook and taehyung. i don’t want to go into detail bc that would mean me spoiling the fic but jungkook can disappear. he did it before and he can do it again. we already know he leaves now and again. who’s to say he won’t leave for a prolonged period of time ?? he can keep in contact with junho but if he leaves, tae’s gonna be there & oc will have no reason to talk to jk unless it’s about junho, etc. so there is a possibility of jungkook leaving again & then reconnecting with oc after years.

also, your theory wasn’t bad at all !! no theory is a bad theory !! unless it strays too far from the plot 🥴 it is a v good theory. vv big brained and had me thinking and choosing my words carefully 🫣

#ty for sharing <3 #fic: hie #squishies #hie: theories

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ppersonna · 3 years

Text

my only wish - knj | m

“ santa can you hear me? i have been so good this year. and all i want is one thing. please tell me my true love is here ” - my only wish (this year), britney spears

✹ summary- There are few things you hate most in this world. Hornets, unnecessary fruit pieces in otherwise perfectly good jello, certain shades of orange… But nothing takes the cake more than two simple things. Christmas. And Kim Namjoon. So why did you agree to pretend to be Kim Namjoon’s girlfriend at his family Christmas party? Bah-Humbug.

✹ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw

✹ pairing- kim namjoon x reader

✹ word count- 15.1k OOF

✹ genre- smut, fluff, tiny tiny angst if you squint, enemies to lovers, fake dating au, idiots to lovers, brief mention of YoonMin

✹ warnings- penetrative sex, unprotected sex (dont do it), daddy kink lolol, namjoon has a big dick, oral sex (m/f receiving), cum swallowing, light cum play, dirty talk, light degradation (very light tbh), praise kink, lots of mentions of joon being a beefy boy, masturbation,

✹ a/n- its here!! finally! my contribution to rockin around the christmas tropes. big big big shout out to @ladyartemesia @xjoonchildx @untaemedqueen @underthejoon @yeojaa @snackhobi for being my co collaborators. and a warm shout out to @wwilloww and @hobi-gif for being some very lovely betas. thank you thank you! i hope you enjoy!

There are few things you hate most in this world.

Hornets, unnecessary fruit pieces in otherwise perfectly good jello, certain shades of orange…

But nothing takes the cake more than two simple things:

Christmas.

And Kim Namjoon.

Christmas, in your opinion, is nothing more than a consumerist holiday, anchored on ensuring you’re guilted enough from November 1st to the 25th of December to spend your hard earned money on shit your friends and loved ones won’t even use. It’s a time for people to pretend they love giving and caring, while shoving you out of lines in stores, buying up all the groceries as if it’s the end times, and forcing party after mindless party for “celebration” that ends in seeing your boss drunk and pants-less by the punchbowl.

And don’t even start on Kim Namjoon.

On paper, he’s your colleague, to put the terms friendly. In reality, he’s your opponent, your adversary. He’s annoying, rude, stuck up, and not to mention a douchebag heartbreaker. He’s everything you hate wrapped in one disgustingly handsome face.

The man never misses a chance to steal a case from underneath your nose, rub the praise he receives from your bosses in your face, and look ridiculously delectable in his tight suits that he insists he wears around the office. He absolutely infuriates you.

And now, as you sit in the company-wide meeting, your heart sinks as you realize the worst thing about Namjoon—he’s about to get the promotion you’ve been vying for your entire career.

That position was as good as yours—at least, you had thought.

That was until lead counsel, Seokjin, stands in front of all the attorneys present and calls out Namjoon’s name, commending him on winning his latest case—the case that you had done the bulk of the work for. Seokjin even tells the rest of the lawyers in the room that Namjoon is “someone to watch” with a glint of pride in his eyes.

The smug smile Namjoon sends in your direction as he teasingly nibbles on a pen with his sultry mouth is enough to make you want to tear his eyes out and use them as olives in the martini you sorely needed.

Namjoon smirks as he walks past you once the meeting ends.

“Make sure you watch me, baby,” he whispers into your ear.

His hand rests on your lower back and you hate how much he aggravates you, and hate even more so that he frustrates you sexually as much as he does intellectually.

Unfortunately, your body can’t keep up with your mind’s distaste for the elder lawyer. His presence around you makes your blood vessels tighten and your head feel light—nipples prickling against your bra when he winks at you.

“Asshole,” you whisper under your breath as you pack up your notebook.

“Oh, ___!” Seokjin calls out just as you’re about to leave the all-glass meeting room.

Your head suddenly screeches to a very frustrated, sexual halt when you turn to face the lead counsel of your company.

“Yes, Mr. Kim?”

“I’ve got a case for you.”

The smile on his face makes you relax. Maybe he sees your potential. Maybe he’s testing you just as much as he’s testing Namjoon. Maybe you’ll be the “one to watch” and you can rub that right in Namjoon’s perfect, stunning face.

A thick manila folder slides across the oak table towards you from Seokjin’s hands. The impressive volume of the dossier makes you giddy with anticipation.

“I know you won’t let me down.”

You nod, nibbling at your lips, before bowing to your superior and dashing out of the room as fast as your Louboutins can handle.

It’s not until you sit at your desk, a cramped little cubicle next to Park Jimin, your best friend and paralegal assistant, that you open the folder.

Your heart sinks as your eyes hurriedly rush over the title page.

Personal Injury Suit.

A dejected sigh leaves you as you throw the folder onto your desk and slouch back in your ergonomic office chair.

“What’s up, pussycat?” Jimin smiles as he rolls his chair over to your side of the cubicle. “Namjoon got you worked up again?”

You groan as you take off your reading glasses, setting them aside to rub at the burgeoning headache building at your temples. You had momentarily forgotten all about Namjoon in the hurried hope that you’d land a case of significance, something you could finally use to prove yourself.

Instead, you gained yet another in-and-out, settle outside of court case. Likely some elderly geriatric suing a corporation for too-slippery floors.

“Another fucking personal injury suit,” you whine as you thrust the folder into the lithe paralegal’s hands.

He looks over the documents and sucks his teeth.

“Man, Seokjin really has it out for you.”

You level a look at your best friend, before nodding and holding your head in your hands.

“Namjoon is getting all the good cases! He gets the media attention, the litigation deals, everything! It’s like I’m not even given a chance to show what kind of lawyer I can be when I’m stuck with all the nursing home and car accident suits!”

Jimin bows dutifully, nodding his head as you express your woes.

“I can do more than just personal injury litigation… and Seokjin knows that! It’s just that Namjoon keeps getting all the air-time!”

“I know, babe. I know.”

With one last sigh of disbelief, you take the folder out of Jimin’s hands and sit upright at your desk.

“Well, I guess if I’m going to be a personal injury lawyer, I’m going to be the best fucking one yet. Let’s get to work.”

“Yeah! Fighting!” Jimin cheers.

Namjoon sighs as he listens to his mother blabber on and on through his phone. He leans back in his chair and surveys the wide expanse of his corner office.

Seokjin gave him this space, an upgrade from the desolate cubicles when he won his last big case, Kim Taehyung, artist v. the city of New York. He can’t help but smirk as he glimpses you from his window, pouring over a case file. He notes the curve of your back in the silk blouse you’re wearing and the way it tucks into your pencil skirt. He wishes he could see the outline of your ass and watch as it sways back and forth when you walk.

“I just don’t understand why you can’t ever bring anyone home for the holidays!”

His mother breaks him from his silent reverie of detailing every aspect of your backside.

“You know your grandmother will not be alive much longer! And all she wants is her only grandson to be happy and in love! And a few grandchildren won’t hurt!”

“I am her grandchild, Mom.”

She’s silent for a moment.

“Well, I wouldn’t mind some grandchildren either.”

He groans again and presses his fingers to his forehead, a headache bubbling up behind his eyes.

“Don’t you act like that, young man! You have a big empty house, big car, big life, and no one to share it with. I just want you to be happy.”

She continues on and Namjoon can’t help but let her words sink in.

He has it all. Expensive luxury apartment, enormous bed, gorgeous kitchen, money to spend on traveling and enjoying life. Yet he spends most of his time here, stuck in his office. He’s utterly alone, regardless of how many social guests he tries to entertain, horrid dates he attempts to go on. He’s always left alone, and he feels it deep at the very bottom of his heart—the loneliness and desire for a companion.

“Mom! Mom!” He interrupts her diatribe on the futility of his adult life. “Stop!”

“Namjoon, I’m just conce-”

“I’ll bring home my girlfriend for the holidays, okay?”

There’s a stunned silence on the other end.

“A girlfriend?” she asks, tentatively. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he breathes, wincing already at the lie he’s spoon-feeding his poor mother—all in the name of getting her off his back. “She’s kind of shy, so I didn’t want to tell you about her yet, but now seems like the best time. I’m... I’m even thinking of proposing.”

The words come out of Namjoon’s mouth before he can stop them. His mom bursts into screams of delight, and he can tell she’s running to his beloved grandmother to tell her the news.

“Oh, Namjoon! This is all we’ve ever wanted for you. I’m so proud of you! I can’t wait to meet her! Oh, goodness, I can’t want to tell your father. Goodbye, son! I’ll see you two soon!”

She hangs up before Namjoon has a chance to even breathe.

“Fuck.”

He drops his phone to his wooden desk and grimaces.

How the hell is he going to find a fiance in the next 3 days before the holiday break?

There’s Jennie, his ex.

He thinks about it for a moment, before quickly dismissing it. No, much too clingy and possessive. She’d take it to be real, and he’d be stuck with her.

His last hookup, Jihoo?

No, too aloof. His mom would never buy that they were a love-sick couple on the brink of engagement.

A crash outside his office startles Namjoon, making him stand and exit the large corner suite.

The commotion is coming from your cubicle, where he can see you’re struggling to use the decrepit computer. The crash must have been from you slamming the keyboard to the desk, causing the individual keys to pop off the board.

“Shit! Jimin, help me put this keyboard back together!”

You shimmy out of your chair and onto your knees, an excellent sight for Namjoon if he wasn’t so concerned about your well-being.

The paralegal is standing above you, watching as you kneel to gather the pieces of the obliterated keyboard.

“Oh no, honey. It’s against my personal constitution to be on my knees unless it’s for a handsome man.”

“God, Jimin, come on.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault you hulk-smashed the life out of that poor keyboard.”

Namjoon smirks, turning back into his office and sliding into his desk. He easily opens his MacBook and emails Yoongi in IT, requesting a brand new computer for your desk—no holds barred. He wants the top of the line for you.

He suddenly has just the person in mind to be his fake fiancée.

A brand new, gorgeous computer is at your desk the next day you arrive. You nearly spill your hot peppermint mocha when you see the sleek machine atop your old plastic desk instead of the broken clunker that was there the day before.

“What the hell?” You ask Jimin as you set your coffee down gently as if any movement might scare the new computer away. “Did you order this?”

“I love you, but I would never order you something this nice.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes as you sit down to marvel at the modern machinery. At least Jimin is honest.

“Maybe I’ll call Yoongi and ask him where it came from,” you wonder aloud, hand hovering over your phone.

“YOONGI?” Jimin screeches, eyes suddenly wide and crazed.

“Yeah? The IT guy?”

“I know who Yoongi is, you dumbass! Here, let me call him! I’m your assistant!”

He scrambles to grab the phone out of your hand.

“You literally refuse to do anything I ask.”

Jimin smiles cherubically, completely ignoring your confusion. He’s suddenly the picture of a model employee.

“Don’t you worry! I’ll be right on it!”

He hops from your desk with your cell phone gripped tight, and saunters away to a secluded area out of your eyesight.

“What the fuck is going on today?” You ask out loud, settling into your chair and unloading your bag of files.

“How's the new computer?”

The sudden intruder makes you jump, nearly spilling your coffee, yet again.

“Fuck!” You shriek as you attempt to right yourself and the dangerously hot liquid sloshing in the paper cup. “You scared me!”

The chuckle that comes from behind you makes your stomach flip. You know that laugh. You could recognize that laugh a hundred miles away, in a hurricane, with headphones on.

That laugh is the sultry demon himself, Kim Namjoon.

“I—How did you know about my computer?”

Namjoon takes a knee, bringing his face to your level in your chair. He’s close to you, so dangerously close. You can smell the Giorgio Armani cologne applied to his pressure points—the heat of his skin warming the scent and mingling with his own subtleties. Your eyes nearly roll back in your head. He smells so comforting—like a home you never knew you were missing until he arrived.

“I saw it when I walked in this morning.”

He breaks you from your daydreaming of warm, firm hands caressing your body and you’re thrown headfirst back into reality—the reality where you can’t stand the man mere inches from you.

You push back from where you are and stand, eager to get away from Namjoon’s sudden interest in close proximity. He smirks and rises from his spot, pocketing his hands in his tight cream suit.

“Care to join me in my office for some coffee?” He asks.

His office. The one he scored after he won the Kim Taehyung case. The bitter betrayal still lingers in your mouth.

For the longest time, you had been equal in every sense; both living in the dingy cubicles with the computers long-destined for retirement. Then, Seokjin awarded him with the corner office, the one with the view of the entire city. You’d never forgiven either of them.

“I have my own coffee.”

Namjoon smirks as he eyes your paper cup, clearly a quick grab from the 7-Eleven around the corner.

“Looks fancy.”

You purse your lips and clutch your coffee even closer.

“Please,” he asks again. “I need to talk to you. It’s important.”

Namjoon’s face loses its snark, and you’re curious about what could cause the man to become so serious.

“Fine.”

You motion with your arm towards his office, encouraging him to walk ahead. He smirks again, ah—there’s that smirk, before he turns and heads into the gorgeous corner room.

He lingers by the door as you enter, waiting until you’ve crossed the threshold to close the door behind you. It surprises you. Something about being in a closed room with Namjoon sets you on edge. You can nearly imagine the man bending you over that fine oak desk, hiking your skirt up and spanking your ass until it’s red.

“Coffee?” He asks as he moves towards the in-office espresso machine.

“Are you fucking kidding me? You have a Nespresso in your office?”

All desperate and wanton thoughts of Namjoon sliding into you leave once you see the stainless steel contraption in the room's corner. Of course he has a $500 coffee machine in his office. He has everything you want.

“You like it?” His question is cocky. He already knows the answer.

“Fuck off.”

Namjoon grins and turns the machine on, pulling out two mugs while you sip your now lukewarm coffee. It suddenly tastes disgusting.

“So, what’s the deal, Namjoon?” You ask as he rests against the wall and waits for the coffee to brew. “You said it was important.”

Namjoon nods, a more reserved look taking the place of his usual cocky grin on his face. His gaze turns down to his shiny dress shoes.

“I need a favor.”

“No.” Your answer is quick.

Namjoon looks up at you in surprise.

“You haven’t even heard it yet!”

“Yeah, well…,” you huff. “I’m not interested in helping you.”

Namjoon leaves his post by his elaborate coffee maker, forgetting about the piping-hot liquid drizzling into white mugs, as he stands in front of you. There’s that fucking cologne again. Why does he have to smell so good?

“You’ve got to help me. Please.”

His sudden closeness to you sets your brain off—your steely resolve begins to crumble.

“Fine, I’ll bite. What is it?”

His face lights up again. God, he has such a handsome mouth.

“I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend for my family Christmas party.”

If you hadn’t had such a good grip on the convenience store cup of coffee, it’d surely drop from your clutch and splatter on the expensive carpet of Namjoon’s office.

Your eyes widen, and your mouth falls agape.

“You—You what?!”

Namjoon sighs and lowers his voice.

“Look, I…” he struggles. “I told my mom I have a girlfriend, so she’d get off my back about it.”

“And why am I suddenly your best option for that?!”

You step away from the man, determined to clear your mind as the scenario weaves its way through your head.

Namjoon’s girlfriend. He wants you to be his girlfriend.

Well, his fake girlfriend.

He would hold your hand. He would kiss you. He would touch your body in ways you convince yourself you don’t think of often.

“You’re the only girl I know who’s got a good enough poker face to go along with it. And honestly… you’re the only girl I really know well enough.”

His last admission shocks you. Namjoon seems like the womanizing type—one to bring a different girl home every night.

“That doesn’t explain why the fuck I would want to help you.”

Namjoon steps back and moves towards the coffee machine again.

“If you help me, I’ll take all your shitty cases that Jin is giving you.”

Your eyes narrow at the tall man. It seems too good to be true.

“How d'you know about them?”

Namjoon shrugs and grabs a mug full of freshly brewed expensive coffee.

“I can hear you complain to Jimin about it every day.”

You grumble under your breath, sucking on your teeth as you try to process the terms of Namjoon’s deal.

“So you want me to be your fake girlfriend for your family…” you muse.

“Yes,” he agrees. “And I’ll do all your worst cases for the next 2 months. I’ll even give you my next big one. I know you want that.”

God, he’s right. That’s all you want. A chance to prove yourself to Seokjin, to the company.

With an aggravated sigh, you relent.

“Fine! But it better be a good fucking case. And, I’m using your coffee maker every morning.”

Namjoon can’t help but chuckle, loving the fire in your voice.

“Deal?” He murmurs.

He holds out his hand to shake on it, and it takes you by surprise how warm and soft his large hands are once you slide your own into his grip.

“Deal.”

Jimin is not going to let you live this one down.

Jimin doesn’t let you live it down.

He’s sitting on your couch, legs crossed underneath him as he hoists his wine glass filled to the brim. He holds it away from his body as he shakes with laughter.

“You’re telling me,” he wheezes. “That you agreed to be Namjoon’s fake Christmas girlfriend? You hate that man!”

Flopping into the couch beside him, you sigh.

“Yeah, well, it was my only option. He made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

“Okay, Godfather,” Jimin snickers. “Lord knows you still want to bone that man, anyway.”

“Jimin!” You admonish. “I do not! And that wasn’t the deal!”

He sips at his red wine with an impish smile. You hate it when Jimin looks at you like that, like he can see behind the lie you’ve so carefully crafted of your hatred for Namjoon.

“Then tell me, what was the deal?”

You fiddle with the stem of your own wine glass, sighing.

“He’s offered to take all our shitty personal injury suits for the next two months. And he’s giving me his next big case.”

Jimin actually looks surprised—as if he didn’t expect Namjoon to provide a deal so worth the cost.

“Wow,” he breathes.

You nod in reply, taking a large gulp of the pinot grigio in your glass.

“You’re still going to fuck him though, I know it,” Jimin adds.

You splutter your wine from your mouth, hand reaching over to gently slap Jimin on his taut abdomen.

“Shut up!” You cry.

Jimin looks proud of himself, sipping his red wine gleefully while he settles further into your couch. Wine nights with Jimin is the highlight of your weeks. Together, you bitch over cases, coworkers, dating struggles, and eat too much cheese and cured meats and nurse a hangover the following day with brunch.

“Hey,” you say to Jimin as you set your wine down on the coffee table. “Did you ever talk to Yoongi?”

Jimin’s cheeks immediately turn a shade of rouge.

“Yoongi? Yoongi who?”

“Oh my god,” you groan. “Yoongi from IT. You stole my phone to call him today? To ask about my new computer?”

Jimin swallows a large swig of his wine.

“Oh. Yes, I did.”

“And?” You encourage the blonde to answer further.

“And he’s doing well,” Jimin replies demurely.

“Jimin!” You huff. “The computer?!”

Jimin makes an ‘O’ shape with his mouth and bites his lip.

“I… might have forgotten to ask.”

Your mouth drops open.

“You literally stole my phone out of my hands to call him! What did you talk about?!”

There’s his blush again. The shade of pink on Jimin’s cheeks would be adorable if you weren’t so flabbergasted by his answers.

“I have a date tomorrow night.” He takes another sip as you let the reply sink in.

“Oh. My. God.” You gasp, a smile now overtaking your features. “You have a crush on Min Yoongi!”

Jimin sets his wine glass down next to yours and turns to you.

“I had no idea if he was into me! But when I called, I totally forgot why I was calling him and we sort of just… started talking and next thing I know, he’s asking me out to dinner tomorrow night.”

You playfully slap at Jimin’s thigh.

“You little slut—using my phone to get yourself a date. On company time!”

Jimin sticks his tongue out at you, before grabbing a pillow and slapping you with the overstuffed cushion.

“At least I didn’t agree to be his fake girlfriend!”

It’s the sound of your phone ringing at 7:32 am that wakes you from your spot on the couch, wine glass still clutched in your hand.

“What the fuck?” You grumble, eyes blearily seeking the offending object disturbing your sleep.

Jimin grumbles next to you, kicking at your foot as if it will stop the phone from ringing.

“Stop,” he whines and cuddles into his fetal position. “Turn it ooooff.”

You locate your cell phone and groan as you recognize the name on the caller ID. Namjoon. What the fuck could he possibly be calling for? And why did he have to call at seven in the goddamn morning?

“What do you want?” You snap as you hold the phone to your cheek and throw yourself back onto the couch.

“Well, good morning to you, sunshine.”

Namjoon’s voice, as sexy and sultry as it sounds, still aggravates you.

“Why are you calling me? It’s Saturday. Its seven am.”

Namjoon chuckles and you fight the shiver that works through your spine at the sound.

“I tend to keep human hours on the weekend.”

You can’t hold back the sarcastic guffaw that escapes you.

“Okay, Mr. Perfect,” you sigh. “That doesn’t explain calling me.”

Jimin kicks at your foot again.

“Stop talking,” he grumbles.

God, Jimin is such a diva when he’s hungover.

“Meet me at the cafe on First Street,” Namjoon says casually. “I’ll tell you when you get here.”

“Right now?!” You ask, incredulous.

“I’m literally already here. Hurry before your coffee gets cold.”

You let out a whine that could rival a 5-year-old’s temper tantrum.

“Fuck you. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

There’s no care about your phone when you end the call and throw it to the floor. Jimin grumbles and rubs at his eyes.

“Why the fuck are you having phone sex with Namjoon so early in the morning?” He asks.

“Jimin, I swear to God.”

He wraps himself in the throw blanket and buries his face back into the couch while you stand and retreat to your bedroom to throw on some semblance of appropriate clothing for the occasion.

“Fucking Namjoon,” you grumble under your breath as you change into jeans and a sweater. “Fuck him and his stupid, sexy face. And his unbelievable ass. And his stupid, probably enormous penis. Man, I hate him.”

As you’re re-entering the living room and grabbing your important items (keys, wallet, lip gloss just in-case), Jimin pops his head out of his blanket cave.

“Where are you going?” He asks, suddenly less annoyed and more pathetic. “You’re leaving me?”

“I have to go meet Namjoon for coffee. I don’t know why, so don’t ask.”

“You’re really going to let me suffer here? Alone? With no coffee?”

You spin around to face your best friend, who’s giving you an absolutely soul-crushing pout and puppy eyes.

“Yes. Call Yoongi.”

His precious pout is wiped away, and a devious smirk takes its place.

“Great idea!” He says as he digs around for his phone. “Be careful out there! It’s icy! Wouldn’t want you to slip and fall on Namjoon’s dick.”

Your only reply is one singular middle finger in Jimin’s direction as you exit your apartment.

Namjoon can’t help but smile as he sips his warm coffee. The cafe is warm and bright, despite the chill outside.

Things feel peaceful. Tender flakes of snow trickle down outside and frost up the shop’s window. There’s something about this time of year that strikes him down to the core. Something cozy, something warm.

It’s odd to think this will be his first year not celebrating the holiday alone.

Even if it is... well, fake.

The bell over the door chimes an arrival, and Namjoon can tell by the grumbles and grunts and stomps of snowy boots that it’s you.

“Over here!” He calls, raising a hand and turning to face you.

Wow, he thinks. You look gorgeous, even without trying.

You hurry your way over to the booth and plop yourself on the opposite side, immediately lunging for the obvious mug of coffee waiting for you on the table. You don’t waste a minute gulping the liquid down your throat, then spluttering when you realize it’s still hot.

“I thought you said it was getting cold!” You cry, airing out your burnt tongue. Namjoon can’t help but imagine that tongue sliding up and down his cock.

Not now. Wrong time and place to get a boner.

Namjoon smiles as he sips his cappuccino.

“I got you a fresh one.”

You make a face, but your features soften. As if you’re pleased with the idea that Namjoon cared to freshen up your cup.

“Oh, well--”, you manage. “Thank you.”

Namjoon doesn’t reply, but merely tips his head. The silence is thick enough to cut with a knife. Normally, you’re both normally so wound up in aggravating the other that a moment of calm is strange, but not unwelcome.

“So, why the early morning wake up?” You finally ask, fiddling with the handle of the mug.

Namjoon settles his cup down.

“We need to get to know each other. Deep shit, you know. The shit that lovers would know about each other.”

He notices you, watches as you nibble at your lip. You try hard to hide it behind the mug you lift to your lips, but Namjoon notices.

“I’m hoping maybe we could spend the day together,” he adds. “I need to get some Christmas gifts for my family and… well, it’s rather lonely doing it on my own.”

There’s a slight smile at the ends of your lips.

“And you needed me at seven thirty in the morning to do that?”

He stifles a laugh.

“Like I said, I operate at regular human hours. Even on weekends,” he replies.

With a dramatic sigh, you agree.

“Fine,” you say. “I’m an open book. Ask me anything.”

He watches as you settle into the seat of the booth, hands gripping the warm mug like it’s a personal heater. He notices you’re only wearing jeans and a sweater--no properly warm clothing for the snow storm ahead. He’ll have to fix that, and soon.

“What are you doing for Christmas?” He asks.

You level a look.

“Spending it pretending to be in love with you.”

Namjoon can’t help but snort a laugh.

“I meant after that.”

You shrug as you settle back into the seat.

“I don’t like Christmas. I don’t do much other than force Jimin to kiss me under the mistletoe and watch shitty movies with a gallon of boxed wine.”

“Hmm,” he hums. “You’re sort of a Grinch.”

A scowl comes over your face.

“I am not! I just don’t buy into this whole ‘prove how much you love me by buying me things’ shit. It’s a big scheme, I tell you! Capitalist propaganda! They encourage you to spend all your money, and if you don’t, they shame and guilt you by telling you you don’t love your family enough.”

Namjoon can’t help but laugh as you rant. It’s what makes you such a talented lawyer—your ability to feel a passion so deep within you you’re able to convince a stone-faced jury of your side.

“Don’t laugh at me!” You cry. “I’m serious! My family doesn’t celebrate, I don’t celebrate. I’d rather just buy gifts for my loved ones when I see something they’d like. Why do we have to put a time of year on it?”

He shrugs and scooches his mug around the carbonate table.

“I suppose that makes sense,” he muses. “But you’re still a Grinch. And a Scrooge. You’ll definitely get visited by some Ghosts at midnight.”

“Ha ha,” you snark sarcastically. “Hilarious, Namjoon. Don’t tell me you’re a big festive guy.”

“Somewhat. It’s my Mom’s favorite holiday. It’s why she’s so bent out of shape about me having a girlfriend. Something about family and love and shit.”

You nod, understanding him completely. Your own mother, despite her reservations towards the holiday, still makes a fuss over your single status. There must be some Mom code to obsess over your children’s woeful dating life.

“Well, I say let’s get on with it then. Ready to hit the shops?” He asks.

You’re mid-sip of your finally cooled coffee and you send a desperate look to the man in front of you.

“Already?!”

“We’re burning daylight, baby.”

Namjoon stands and you can’t help but feel a roar of flames in your belly at the pet-name. Your cheeks are surely flaming up and you admonish yourself for getting so peaked about such a trivial name.

“Please don’t tell me we’re walking,” you murmur as you sneak a peek outside.

The snow is falling down harder now, and you’re dreadfully underdressed for the weather.

Namjoon tsks at your lack of outerwear, but then shakes his head.

“No, we’ll take my Range Rover.”

You roll your eyes and grimace.

“Of course. You have a fucking Nespresso machine and a Range Rover. Asshole.”

Namjoon doesn’t even think about it as he grabs your hand and laces his fingers in between yours. If anyone asked, he’d say it’s practice—to familiarize himself with the way your fingers slot between his own so it’s not such a foreign concept when he does it in front of his family.

“Yeah, but I’m your asshole now, princess.”

Christmas shopping with Namjoon is mostly painless.

Normally, you dread the lines and the crowds and the confusion and the expense.

But with Namjoon, you relax and banter away with the tall lawyer. You’re completely at ease as you walk through crowded aisles and sort through racks of cashmere sweaters and stacks of fuzzy blankets.

“Mom will love this, don’t you think?” Namjoon asks, holding up a thick, exquisite looking blanket.

You’re about to answer with an affirmative when you catch yourself. You don’t even know his mom. You’ve never met the woman. Why does it feel as if Namjoon is someone you’ve known your entire life?

Why do things feel so easy with him?

“Sure, Namjoon,” you reply. “Seems like something most mother’s would be into.”

He smiles at you. It’s a genuine smile too, one that nearly knocks you on your ass. Your body is sent into overdrive constantly. He holds your hand, he places his hand at the small of your back to guide you through a thick crowd. He calls you baby and princess and doll.

It’s confusing.

It’s amazing.

You can’t tell if you love it or hate it.

Namjoon pushes the shopping cart and walks beside you, chatting easily about his various aunts and uncles names that you likely must remember at some point but you just can’t think about anything but Namjoon, Namjoon, Namjoon.

You hate him. He stole that corner office from you. He’s going to take the promotion you want from right under your nose. He has a goddamn Nespresso in his office and a Range Rover.

And yet, you can’t help but fall in place next to him and listen to him tell stories of his childhood, weaving tales of uncles who snuck him his first sips of alcohol and aunts who spoil him rotten. He’s easy to listen to, a natural story-teller. Your body feels warm, as if you’re sitting on a large hearth by a roaring fire. He’s comforting.

It’s infuriating and wonderful all at once.

“And that’s when my cousin Jungkook got caught smoking cigarettes. My grandma beat our ass so bad I couldn’t sit for a day.”

Namjoon finishes his story and turns to look at you. You’ve been staring at the man for nearly a minute straight now.

“Hey,” his voice is soft. “You listening?”

You shake out of the trance Namjoon’s deep voice sends you into.

“Yeah!” You reply with a smirk. “Sounds like this Jungkook is a guy I’d like to meet.”

Namjoon sucks his teeth and nudges you.

“Hey, you’re my girlfriend, remember.”

You stick your tongue out at him playfully.

“Fake girlfriend. I’m still a single, desirable lady at the end of the day.”

Namjoon hesitates before answering. He wants to reply something snarky, something sarcastic and witty. But he takes a moment to pause, allows himself to fully immerse himself in you. Even hungover, in yesterday’s jeans and an old sweater, you’re still an absolute catch. You’re the definition of desirable and Namjoon can’t help but allow himself to desire.

“Hmm, is that what you call it?” He asks, now allowing the sarcasm to permeate his words. “I was thinking you’re more of the spinster, cat-lady type.”

“Hey!” You pout as you slap at his arm. “I’m allergic to cats!”

“But you don’t deny being a spinster.”

“Fuck you, Namjoon.”

He grins and pushes the carts towards the candle aisle, a sure-fire gift for his aunties.

“In due time, my love.”

By the time Christmas Eve arrives, you’ve spent nearly every day with Namjoon. At work, he brings you fresh coffee from his Nespresso and buys you lunch. You’ve even landed his big case, an incredibly complex lawsuit that will showcase your skills. Namjoon gives you pointers and space to talk through the case with him.

Namjoon is, in fact, simply being kind. And it unsettles you.

Your heart and brain are at war with each other constantly. You should hate him, loathe him. He’s going to nail that promotion regardless of what you prove to Seokjin.

But your heart tells you he deserves it. He’s an incredible attorney and has earned every ounce of respect. You want Namjoon to get that promotion just to see that smile on his face. He’d do incredible things as Seokjin’s protege to take over the firm.

You hate to admit it, but Namjoon has melted the ice around your heart. And you’re dreading the day after all this is over, because it will be the day Namjoon stops holding you close and pressing soft kisses to your temple. It will be the day he stops pretending this is all real.

It’s Christmas Eve and you’re sitting in Namjoon’s expensive Range Rover, plush leather seat toasty from the built-in seat warmer. You can’t help but marvel at the way the oncoming headlights brighten up Namjoon’s features as he drives you down a snowy mountain lane. They always hold the Kim family holiday party at Namjoon’s late grandfather’s cabin in the mountains, a quiet getaway for the family to gather and spend the night together to wake up on Christmas morning and gather around for presents and food.

Which means waking up to Kim Namjoon.

It’s something you’ve dreamt of often, but denied yourself any actual possibility of it. Namjoon was always out of reach, and it was easier to hate him for his success he rightfully deserved than it was to admit the feelings that were always inside.

And now, although it’s artificial, you can’t bear to think of not spending your time with Namjoon anymore.

You steal a glance again at him, and smile as you hear his faint humming. He loves Christmas music. You learned that early in the week during another early morning coffee and ‘get to know you’ before work. Namjoon couldn’t stop singing Mariah Carey’s classic pop song under his breath as it played over the speakers in the cafe.

“It’s so pretty up here,” you muse as you force your vision away from Namjoon’s gorgeous face to the snowy scenery outside.

The snow is falling gently, not enough to cause a blizzard but enough to make it seem like you’re trapped in a picturesque snow-globe. Leaving the city and entering the magical forest stirs an emotion inside you you hadn’t felt in some time.

It’s Christmas Eve and there’s just something magical.

Ugh. Unbelievable.

Namjoon has even made you actually enjoy Christmas.

He nods. “Yeah, it’s my favorite place in the world, I think.”

“I can see why,” you sigh. “It looks like a painting.”

Namjoon glances over at you peering through the window. His heart hammers in his chest hard as your glittering eyes bounce around from tree to tree, a pretty smile on your face. The diamond ring in his pocket feels like it weighs a literal ton and he nibbles at his lip.

He bought it for the showmanship of it all, initially. It was his first purchase he made when he set up this whole rouse.

But now, it feels real. It feels like he’s really about to get on one knee and ask you, the girl he’s absolutely head over heels for, to marry him.

And then it will be over.

He’ll make up some story to tell his mom about how it didn’t work out and you’ll go back to being his coworker, and nothing more.

Namjoon can’t fight the sinking feeling in his stomach.

Nothing more.

He pulls into the driveway before you even have time to realize you’re there. He puts the car in park and smiles over at you.

He looks so cute in his puffy winter coat, hair pushed to the side and a smile that’s all dimples and cheeks.

Fuck.

“We’re here,” he whispers. “You ready?”

Suddenly, the nerves of meeting your fake boyfriend’s entire family slap you right in the face. You hope that you’re a good enough actress to get Namjoon through the night and into the morning.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

He nods and squeezes your hand, an unspoken comforting ‘I got you’.

Namjoon gathers his wrapped gifts and stacks them all in his arms, ignoring your pleas and giggles to help carry them in.

“No, no,” he assures. “I have to make sure my mom sees me being manly and helpful.”

As if on cue, the front door opens and Mrs. Kim is bursting out into the snowy night.

“Namjoon!” She shrieks, completely overjoyed. The rest of the family is standing by the door, eyeing you carefully with smiles and whispers. You pray to whatever Christmas God that’s listening that you can do this.

Namjoon sets the pile of gifts down just in time to wrap his delicate and tiny mother in his arms, hugging her tightly while she gleefully buries her face into her tall son’s chest.

“Oh, my son, I’ve missed you.”

Namjoon kisses the crown of her head and smiles.

“Missed you too, eomma.”

The scene has you misty-eyed and you swipe at your eyes to stop the tears. There’s no way you’re ruining the fantastic makeup you did for the occasion, but the reunion of Namjoon and his mother is heart-warming. He clearly cares for his mother more than he would outwardly admit.

Namjoon and his mother unwrap from each other and Namjoon turns towards you.

“Everyone, this is ____,” he breathes. “My girlfriend.”

His mother’s gleeful squeals now turn to you, and within an instant she’s gathering you up in just as tight of a hug as she did to her son.

“Oh, darling, we are so happy to meet you,” she beams.

The excitement in her voice makes you feel bad—like you’re conning an old woman out of her retirement. You’re instilling a sense of hope in the kind woman, and you can’t help but send Namjoon a look as you wrap your arms around her and return the embrace. His eyes sparkle with something you can’t read.

“I’m happy to meet you too,” you smile as you pull apart. “Thank you for letting me come.”

“No thanks necessary,” she admonishes with a wink. “We had to beg Namjoon to bring you. It seems he wants to keep you all to himself.”

“Eomma!” Namjoon snaps. “Be appropriate!”

She nudges you with her elbow knowingly, which makes your cheeks flame hot, before she leads the way back into the house.

“Come in, come in! Let’s get out of this snow.”

Namjoon encourages you to step inside with a gentle hand at the small of your back—a touch that makes your body light up brighter than a Christmas tree.

“Thank you,” he whispers in your ear from behind. You can feel the warmth of his lips and your body reacts.

How is it that any simple act makes you desperately horny for the man? You pray for some respite from your sexual frustration over the next day. How are you going to last over 24 hours?

Namjoon deposits his massive haul of gifts under the tree and returns to your side, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to bring you close. He introduces you to uncles and aunts and cousins. He even introduces you to his infamous cousin, Jungkook, who smirks at you in a way that makes Namjoon pull you in closer to his body.

“Are you doing okay?” Namjoon finally asks after the rush of relatives greeting you dies down. He turns you towards him, to face him directly with his hands on either of your shoulders. “You’re killing it.”

You can’t help but smile. Namjoon’s family is all incredibly kind and funny. They welcome you into the family with ease and it chips away a little more each time at your heart.

Because this is all fake.

One day, Namjoon really will have a girlfriend to bring to Christmas and to show off to his relatives and it won’t be you. You’ll be back at your apartment, watching shitty TV re-runs and binging on Chinese takeout, as you do every year. It’s a jab at your heart each time the bitter truth rears its ugly head.

“Yeah,” you nod. “I’m great.”

“Look!” Jungkook shouts. “They’re standing under the mistletoe!”

Namjoon blushes a shade of red that likely matches a blush on your own cheeks. Sure enough, the green branches of the mistletoe taunt you from above.

You’ve never kissed Namjoon before. In all the skinship and closeness of the last week, you’ve still yet to close the gap to kissing the man.

“Oh, come on Kook, that’s a stupid tradition,” Namjoon murmurs awkwardly, rubbing at the back of his neck.

Jungkook smirks as he steps up next to you.

“Well, if you’re not going to do it, I’d be more than happy to take your place.”

Jungkook wraps a loose arm around you and gives you a charming smile. He must be very popular with the ladies, you think. That’s a charming smile.

“Hey!” Namjoon grabs for your hand and tugs you out of Jungkook’s predatory gaze. “She’s my girlfriend.”

Namjoon looks at you for a moment, assessing your comfort level with everything about to take place. His lips look so inviting, so plush and warm. Now that you’re thinking about kissing him, you can’t help but focus on the way his lips pucker so gently and naturally.

And then it happens. Namjoon lowers his face towards you and it feels as if the world is in slow-motion. It’s happening.

The first press of his lips is soft and conservative. You take a split second to register, but instinctively you press against his lips with determination and wrap your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss.

He groans softly as you trail your tongue out to seek purchase in his mouth, and he opens for you without hesitation. His hands grip at your waist and bring your body flush against his. You can feel his cock twitching and rising from the kiss that’s gone from innocent and playful to passionate and deep. It feels like the world around you has stopped and the only thing that matters is Namjoon, his mouth, his body against your own. He tastes like hot chocolate and peppermint, and you want more, more.

“Oh my god, stop,” Jungkook’s voice shatters your illusion of being all alone with Namjoon. “Now you’re just showing off.”

Namjoon pulls away from you, eyes dazed as he tries to right himself.

“You two are just so perfect for each other,” Namjoon’s mother says, who’s suddenly appeared in Jungkook’s place. “Let me show you your bedroom.”

“Oh, we’re sharing?” You ask without thought. It’s a large house, with ample bedrooms surely for you to have your own space.

Namjoon nudges you in the ribs gently, eyes widening and mouthing a ‘what the fuck do you mean?’

“Of course dear, don’t be silly,” his mother replies with an eyebrow waggle and a chuckle. “I remember when your father and I were dating. He would sneak into my room after my parents went to bed and keep me up all night long. Your grandfather would ask me if I had terrible dreams that night, because I looked so tired.”

Namjoon makes a face. “Eomma, please,” he begs. “Please don’t talk about my parents like that.”

As his mother guides you down a long hallway, your mind is whirring with too many thoughts of Namjoon, of sharing a bedroom with Namjoon, of seeing his sleeping face and waking up next to him. It’s all too much, too overwhelming. You pray there’s a couch in the room you could sleep on, because you’re far too weak and you’d rather fight the desperation in your body than face the fact that you want nothing more than to curl right into Namjoon’s strong arms and let him hold you all night to sleep.

Fuck.

“Here we are!”

His mother opens the door with grace, and flicks on the light. The room is beautiful in its simplicity. A king sized bed, a fireplace, and a balcony with a view of the sprawling snowy scene outside. It’s cozy and warm and decorated with its own Christmas tree.

“Wow,” is all you can muster.

“Aish, Mom,” Namjoon sighs as he drops his bags. “You didn’t need to do all of this for us.”

Mrs. Kim holds his hand in both of hers. “Well, I know how special this Christmas is going to be,” she winks. “I want you to enjoy your time here. Now, I’ll leave you two alone for a bit. Dinner is in an hour, so ‘freshen up’!”

Another wink, and Namjoon makes another face. She definitely wants grandchildren, that much is for certain.

She closes the door behind her and you’re left standing in the room, overnight bag in hand.

“This is—Wow, this is amazing.”

You’ve never experienced Christmas like this—with decorations and warmth and family. It’s as if the love of the Kim family permeates the very walls of the expansive cabin, like it’s built into the foundation itself. For a moment, you allow yourself to soak it all in. This is all yours. It’s your Christmas and you finally understand why so many make such a fuss over it. The results are nothing short of remarkable.

“Yeah, she really does the most,” Namjoon laughs.

He takes the bag from your hand without your notice and you step towards the balcony to peer into the night. The landscape looks as if everything has been covered in soft marshmallow. The snow is untouched—picture perfect.

“I’ve never had anything like this before.”

Namjoon settles your bag and his on the bed, watching as you soak in your own wonder. The smile on your face is not one he sees often, one of pure joy. Namjoon swallows hard as he realizes he wants to be the one to always put that smile on your face.

“Not such a Scrooge after all, eh?”

You turn from the still-life view outside and back to Namjoon, where he stands at the foot of the bed. He looks so different outside the office. He’s wearing skinny jeans and a flannel shirt, his puffy jacket hanging by the door. No cream suit, no slicked back hair or shoes shiny enough to see your reflection. Just simply Namjoon.

He’s no longer the man who steals the limelight in the office. He’s no longer the man you see as your adversary or your rival.

He’s the man who’s showing you the magic of Christmas, the spirit of love and kindness that embodies the season.

He’s the man you’ve fallen in love with.

And yet, he’s the man who will leave once this is over and return to his proper life, and you to yours. He’ll return to sleeping with models and movie starlets, and you’ll return to binge watching Great British Bake-Off with Jimin and a carton of Chicken Tikka Masala.

And Christmas will never feel as special as it does now.

So, you’re determined to soak in it for a little longer. It’s going to hurt regardless, so why not push that hurt off until tomorrow and allow yourself to pretend you live the lie you’re spinning for Namjoon’s family?

“I think I’ll just freshen up and change into my dinner outfit, then?” You ask out loud, grabbing for your overnight bag and heading towards the ensuite.

Namjoon, who expected a witty retort, takes a moment to reply.

“Oh,” he coughs. “Yeah, sure. I’ll err—, I’ll just get ready out here.”

You quickly escape into the bathroom, closing the door and resting on it as you exhale a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

The tension in the bedroom with Namjoon was too thick, too powerful, especially after the kiss you just shared. His cock had been there, straining in his jeans as you licked into his mouth. The kiss felt so natural, as if you had always kissed Namjoon like that. Your heart beats loud and hard in your chest just from the thought of it.

You really needed to get a handle over yourself. You still have dinner to get through, and an entire night in a bedroom with Namjoon. A bed with Namjoon.

No, you won’t allow yourself to go that far. You can pretend you’re his girlfriend, but all thoughts of his delectable body doing scintillating things to yours is strictly off-limits. You shake all thoughts of a thick, heavy cock sliding into your mouth and warm hands spreading you open, and set about fixing your makeup and changing into the gorgeous cocktail dress you purchased for the occasion. It wasn’t often you got to get dressed up. The emerald green velvet dress clings to your body and highlights your curves. It’s a sexy dress, definitely, but also appropriate for a formal evening with your boyfriend’s parents.

Well, your fake boyfriend. Right.

After fixing your hair and buckling your heels, you take one last glimpse in the mirror for good luck and exit the room.

Your breath is nearly knocked out of your lungs as you see Namjoon.

You’ve seen him dressed up for court and for TV appearances millions of times, but you’ve never seen him like this.

He wears a blood red button up without a tie, a few buttons open to emphasize the casual look, tucked into the tightest and sexiest slacks you’ve ever seen. They hug his thighs and sit at a spot on his waist that you just know is rippling with cut lines from his work in the gym. His hair is tucked back with a bit of hairspray, and he’s fixing the sleeves of his shirt when he sees you.

His eyes widen and his hands fall to his sides as he soaks in your appearance.

An absolute vision.

He can see the gentle valley between your breasts and the way your dress pushes up your cleavage and displays your collar. The dress follows the delicate curve of your waist and hips and ends at your knee, but teases him with a glimpse of thigh that has him wiping his mouth in case he’s drooling.

“You look incredible,” Namjoon murmurs as you step closer.

“So do you.”

You swallow hard as he continues closer to you, breathing harshly as he stands right in front of you. You could reach out and unbuckle his expensive slacks and fist his cock right there. You’d fall on your knees for him, if he asked.

There’s a moment of silence as Namjoon’s face inches closer and closer to your own, each unable to verbalize just how desperate either of you feel for the other.

“Namjoon, I—,” you start. You want to tell him. You want to tell him everything—that you don’t want this to be fake, that you want this to be real, and you want to be his and his forever.

“Yes?”

You swallow hard, shaken by just how close his lips are to yours. He’s inches away and all you can focus on is the way his plush lips look and how well they fit against your own under the mistletoe.

“I just—, I really um, I’m just very…”

You’re not making sense. Comprehension of language is quickly soaring out the window because the only words you know are ‘Please, for the love of God, kiss me and make me yours’, but you can’t bring yourself to speak them out loud.

Namjoon’s hand cups your cheek, as if he can tell what you’re trying to say.

“Yeah,” he breathes. The inches between you turn to centimeters, to bare millimeters. Your eyes flutter close as you feel his breath dance over your lips and your heart beats so loud you’re sure the entire household can hear it. He’s right there and moves in to close the distance—

“Knock Knock!!”

The forceful, cheery voice of cousin Jungkook forces both of you to jump away from each other as if you’ve touched a burning stove. Your head feels light, like you’ve forgotten to breathe for the last ten minutes and you’ve suddenly taken in too much air.

The wooden door squeaks open and Jungkook pokes his head in, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Auntie sent me to get you. It’s dinnertime!”

Namjoon rubs his face frustratedly. “Yes, thank you, Jungkook.”

Jungkook doesn’t leave, however. He smiles at you and winks.

“Would you like an escort to dinner, madame? You look tastier than the roast beef downstairs.”

A blush creeps over your cheeks as Namjoon storms to the door where his cousin laughs.

“That’s enough, Kook. We’ll be down in a minute.”

He sends you one more grin, then retreats from the door and closes it behind him.

“Sorry about that,” Namjoon apologizes. You’re not sure what he’s apologizing for—Jungkook, or the moment before.

“It’s alright. Let’s go?”

Namjoon nods and holds out his hand with a smile.

“Let’s go, girlfriend.”

Dinner with the Kim family is as delightful as every other interaction with them has been. They’re polite and funny and ask questions about your life and your family.

They ask how you met Namjoon (at work), what your favorite quality about him is (his smile and his ass), and what your first date together was (coffee at seven in the morning).

You tell stories of Namjoon in the office, of your best friend Park Jimin who’s secretly trying to date the IT manager, of your parents and Christmases past.

By the time dessert is served, Namjoon’s mother looks at you as if you’ve put the very stars in the sky.

Namjoon doesn’t miss that look either. He can see the way his family is falling in love with you and somewhere deep in his stomach, he feels the guilt rising. All of this is a lie. Not only is he going to break his own heart, but every heart of his family member’s too.

“We’re all just so overjoyed that Namjoon has found someone to share his life with,” his mom speaks softly. It’s the first time she’s been thoughtful and quiet. She’s a woman who’s larger than life, you’ve found, so the softness in her tone strikes a chord. “You’re absolutely perfect for him. I’ve never seen him happier.”

Fuck.

“Thank you,” you murmur sincerely to his mother. “I’ve never been happier.”

Namjoon peers up from where he’s been pushing around his uncle’s famous chocolate cake on his plate to watch as you speak.

“Truthfully, I never cared much for Christmas. I thought it was a rubbish holiday and spent it alone every year with a bottle of wine and some takeout. Namjoon really changed that for me,” you smile at the man and place your hand in his lap to hold his free hand. “He showed me more about Christmas in one week than I’ve felt in my entire life.”

Namjoon’s mom wipes away an errant tear and he squeezes your hand under the table.

“I guess the Grinch’s heart has grown 3 sizes, after all.”

Namjoon’s joke lightens the soft mood, and suddenly there’s chatter around as the family members move about to wash dishes and clean up the mess of dinner. Everyone leaves the table except for you and Namjoon.

“That was some good acting,” he whispers with a sad smile.

“Right,” you whisper back, nibbling your lip anxiously. “Acting, of course.”

You should have thought through the bedroom sharing thing more.

Because sharing a bedroom is one thing.

And sharing a bed is another.

And of course, the only pajamas you thought to bring tonight is a very sexy long shirt that says “no coffee, no talking” with a bedazzled pair of shushing lips. That’s it. Just a single shirt. Not even a pair of shorts or pajama pants.

You slip into the bed first, as far onto one side of it as possible. It’s a king sized bed, and it still feels too intimate, too close.

Namjoon exits the bathroom after his shower, rubbing at his wet hair with a towel. He’s shirtless, wearing only a pair of flannel pajamas, leaving his bare chest on display.

Sweet lord in heaven, you nearly cry out loud. He’s absolutely ripped, pecs defined and droplets of water from his hair streaming down. You want to chase each drop with your tongue and circle back again. You shut your eyes tight and clench your teeth. Why, oh why, does he have to look so fucking sexy at a time like this?

Namjoon sees you at the edge of the bed, shutting your eyes closed like you’re a shy schoolgirl afraid to see a naked man’s body. He feels guilty for making you be here. He knows you’ve likely got better things to do than spend time with a man you openly hate.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes for nothing in particular.

You ignore it. Instead, you’re trying to think of every un-sexy thing in the world you can possibly imagine. Taxes, a bunch of bees, old people, shark attacks.

There’s absolutely nothing that can stop the image of Namjoon’s perfectly sculpted body from bursting into your mind. You’re nearly pleading with yourself to just go to sleep and contemplate how hard you’d need to hit your head to knock yourself out as fast as possible.

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” he says as he grabs a small throw blanket from the closet and throws it to the ground by the fire.

It snaps you from your musings of how best to forget how badly you want to suck Namjoon’s cock through his pajama pants.

“What?” You sit up in the posh bed and finally make eye-contact. “Why? It’s freezing. There’s a literal snowstorm outside.” You motion to the window of the balcony. What was once a gentle snowfall is now a full-on winter storm.

“There’s a fire. I’ll be fine, I sleep hot anyway.” Namjoon’s voice is low and without energy. He almost sounds sad.

God, is being with you that hard for him? You know you’re just the artificial replacement until he has the real thing, but you’d actually hoped Namjoon had found it as comforting and warm as you had.

“Namjoon,” you sigh. “This is a king-sized bed. You don’t need to be waking up with back pain because you gallantly slept on the floor.”

To emphasize your point, you tug back the blankets on the other side, beckoning him to join.

He hesitates for a moment, as if he’s weighing the pro’s and con’s and sliding into bed next to you in his mind, then stands and pads his way on the plush carpet towards the bed and slips in.

There’s an entire football field of distance between you two in the bed, but it feels like he’s right beside you. You imagine sliding in right next to him, wrapping your arms around his taut chest and pressing soft kisses to his stomach.

You squeeze your eyes closed again. Stop it, you horny slut.

“Thank you, again.” Namjoon breaks the silence. “I really appreciate you helping me out.”

“Yeah,” you swallow hard. “Of course. What else was I going to do? Jimin’s probably sucking Yoongi’s dick right now, so I’d be watching baking shows alone.”

Namjoon laughs for a moment, then quiets.

“You know, I don’t even really want that promotion at work.”

You’re surprised by the sudden change in topic, but you turn over to face Namjoon.

“What?! Really?”

Namjoon nods and stares at the ceiling. “I don’t think I’m that good of an attorney to get it, anyway.”

His statement makes you sit up in bed again, staring at the man in disbelief.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Namjoon? You’re the best lawyer in the firm.”

Namjoon says nothing, just turns to stare at you curiously as you continue.

“You’re like… literally better than Seokjin, too. The way you handled the Taehyung case was nothing short of historical. Like, that was an impossible case, and you nailed it. That was your ‘OJ’ case, you know?”

Namjoon barks a laugh.

“My what?”

“Your OJ case!” You use your hands to emphasize the importance of what you’re saying. “Like, they’ll write about you and how impossible the odds were of winning that case. And you won it! Not even Seokjin could have won that case.”

He’s silent again, watching as you speak directly from your heart with all the fire and passion you feel about the things you care about. It’s what makes you such an incredible lawyer, too.

“Wow,” he breathes. “Thank you.”

You settle back down from your excitement, suddenly bashful at how fanatical you became.

“You’re welcome,” you murmur. “You deserve that promotion. And the office.”

Namjoon smirks.

“And the Nespresso?”

Your eyes narrow and send a glare to him he can see even with the faintest of light in the room.

“No, no one deserves the Nespresso, except for me.”

He chuckles and settles down into his pillows.

“Goodnight,” he whispers.

“Goodnight, Namjoon.”

There’s a beat of silence and your eyes flutter shut easily. It’s quiet, and all you can hear is the crackle of the log in the fireplace and the wind blowing past the balcony windows as the storm outside rages.

“Oh,” Namjoon whispers again. “And, Merry Christmas.”

You can’t fight the smile that creeps onto your face.

“Merry Christmas, Joonie.”

“Happy Christmas!” A voice bellows through your bedroom at approximately seven fifteen am.

You groan, immediately grimacing and burying your face into your firm, warm pillow.

“Nooooo,” you whine, trying to hide from the offending noise.

Namjoon shakes awake, and notices Jungkook standing at the bedroom door once again.

“It’s time for presents!” He giddily explains. “And, they gave me the job of waking you two up.”

“Of course,” Namjoon yawns.

“You look a little wrapped up,” Jungkook smirks, eyeing your sleeping body. “I’ll give you two a minute. Don’t get distracted.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes and watches as the door closes, before he turns his attention towards you.

Somehow, in the middle of the night, you’ve scooched yourself to his side of the bed and draped your body around his. Your face is buried in his chest and your legs are haphazardly intertwined in his own.

He bites his lip. His cock is rock solid, not just from his usual morning wood, but from the way he can feel your tits through your shirt, and from the sight of your pink panties. Namjoon wants to take them off with his teeth and bury his face in your delicious cunt, and his cock is nearly screaming at him to get on with it.

“Hey,” he whispers to you, actively ignoring the demon that is his turgid length. “Wake up.”

This causes you to cling harder to his chest, rubbing your sleepy face on him.

“What is it with you and early mornings?” You ask, blearily raising your head to peer at him judgementally.

Namjoon bites his lip, curious about your reaction to the tight embrace you’ve got on him. He doesn’t want to say anything, doesn’t want to break the spell. Frankly, he wants to push your sleep shirt up and stuff you full of his cum.

“Merry Christmas?” He offers shyly.

You take a full minute to recognize what’s happening.

You’re no longer on your edge of the bed. You’re wrapped around the man like a koala, legs strewn over him without care and clinging to him like he’s a lifeline.

“Oh!” You gasp as you jerk out of his grasp.

In your movement, your leg brushes over an obvious tent in Namjoon’s pants, making him groan softly. You shut your eyes, embarrassed at how disgustingly horny you are for the man who’s not even interested in you sexually.

“Christ, I’m so sorry,” your cheeks flame bright red and you scoot further from him.

“No, no, don’t be,” Namjoon wheezes as he tries to fix himself. “It’s fine. It’s more than fine. It’s great. It happens. Don’t worry.”

He continues to stammer out reassurances as he leaves the bed and bolts into the bathroom to fix his unruly tented pants, leaving you sitting atop the bed washed with shame.

“Fucking hell,” you whisper to yourself as you rub at your cheeks. “Get a grip of yourself.”

Inside the bathroom, it only takes Namjoon a few fisted jerks of his cock and the mental image of you beneath him, begging for him, until he’s silently cumming on an expensive towel. He bites his free hand to stifle the moans he makes as his cock pulses.

By the time he arrives back in the bedroom, you’ve changed into a hoodie and yoga leggings that accentuate your ass so delectably that Namjoon thinks about turning right back into the bathroom for a second round.

“I’m sorry!” You nearly shout when he walks into the room. “About the bed. You were warm and I was cold. That’s all.”

Nmajoon simply nods, doesn’t want to have to explain how he wishes he could wake up like that every day. Doesn’t want to describe in vivid detail how he’d wake you up with his tongue buried deep in your cunt.

“Let me grab a shirt and we’ll head out, yeah?”

Your eyes dance over the defined ridges of his body, a little crest-fallen at the idea that this might be the last time you see him shirtless, but you nod anyway.

“Yeah.”

The ring box sits in a deceptively large box beneath the tree. Namjoon wrapped it last night and hide it at the very back. His heartbeat hammers in his ears as his family passes around gifts and opens each with squeals of delight.

His mother gave him new ties for the office, ones that Namjoon prefers. She’s even gifted you with jewelry, which makes your eyes water at the sentiment.

It all begins to be too much. It’s harder and harder to hold back the tears as each of Namjoon’s family members gives you gifts. It doesn’t matter the value, not at all. The fact that they specifically set out to include you in their gift-unwrapping makes your heart snap in two.

This is all too much, it’s too real.

It’s everything you never dreamed you could have. A loving partner who lets you sit in the space of his legs and rubs your arms soothingly. A family who goes out of their way to include you in the abundance of love and company. A cabin so warm and cozy.

The tears don’t stop.

It’s at the end of the gift exchange that you finally allow yourself to breathe.

“There’s one more,” Namjoon whispers as he moves from behind you and fetches a large box from behind the tree. “It’s for you, princess.”

Curiously, and suspiciously, you eye him as he sets the enormous gift in your lap. You had done nearly all his Christmas shopping with him, and can’t remember a single thing he would have gotten for you.

“I hope it’s the Nespresso from your office,” you snark with a smile. His family members all laugh and exchange knowing looks to each other.

Namjoon doesn’t think he can breathe. He watches as you begin to carefully unwrap the large box, which reveals another box, slightly smaller. He can’t help but grin as you continue to unwrap the nesting-doll style gift until you’re down to the smallest one, the one that holds the ring box.

With one last tear of paper, your eyes widen as you recognize the velvet box.

“Oh--,” you breathe as you delicately pry open the gift.

Inside sits a dazzling and gorgeous diamond ring. It catches the light from the fire and sparkles like a firecracker.

“Oh my god,” you whimper as the tears flow again.

He’s proposing.

Namjoon settles himself onto one knee and tucks an errant piece of hair behind your ears.

“You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me. I knew from day one that you were always the girl I wanted to marry,”

Namjoon’s speech sends daggers to your heart. He’s so convincing for something so counterfeit.

“I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember, much longer than we’ve been together. You’re who I want to come home to every night, and who I want to wake up with every morning.”

It hurts. It hurts so badly that you’re crying even harder as he continues to speak. His family must think you’re simply overcome with emotion and love that the crying doesn’t give it away, but inside you’re absolutely dying.

There’s no way you can recover from this.

Tomorrow, Namjoon will take the ring back to where he got it from and return to what he had before. He’ll leave you behind, broken and hopelessly in love with a man who faked a relationship so well that you fell for it, hard.

“____, will you marry me?”

You take several large, gulping gasps to reply. You can’t shatter the illusion. Namjoon’s parents are weeping with joy, while his relatives record the moment on their phones and wipe away errant tears. Even Jungkook looks soft, proud of his cousin for taking the next step in his life.

Oh, how you wish this were all real.

“Yes,” you lie with a smile. “Yes, Namjoon, of course!”

Namjoon grins and pulls you to standing, gathering you in his arms as he hugs you tight. His family cheers and hollers in the background, and you sob into his shoulder as you cling to him.

He easily slides the diamond ring out of the box and onto your finger, where it sits and taunts you. The weight is heavy, and you whimper at the realization that this will never be for you. It will sit atop a pretty model’s finger sometime soon, when Namjoon resumes his regular life.

“Oh, my darlings, I am so happy for you!” Namjoon’s mother appears and wraps you both in a hug, weeping and kissing cheeks. “We must discuss planning!”

It’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back. The tears and weeping turn to wracking sobs, which quiets the family as they watch you hold your face in your hands.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize through your grief. “I—I just need a moment.”

Without another word, you turn from the scene and bolt back towards the bedroom.

It’s silent and Namjoon’s heart sinks.

This must be too much for you, too much for you to pretend to love him. He knew it was too much and he should have discussed it with you beforehand.

“She’s just a little err--,” Namjoon tries. “Easily emotional. I’ll go check on her.”

His family understands as Namjoon hurries towards the bedroom and gently opens the door.

You’re sitting over your overnight bag, trying to shove any clothing into it you can, while you sob openly.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I should have told you. I sort of... told my mom I’d be proposing to my girlfriend.”

There’s pain in your eyes as you snap your head up to look at him. It nearly destroys him.

“You should have warned me!” You gasp. “Namjoon, I can’t do this.”

Namjoon lowers his head and shoves his hands into his pockets of his pajama pants.

“I get it. I know you want to go back to your regular life. I can take you home now.”

You’re silent for a moment, standing and moving towards the man.

“Don’t you get it, Namjoon?”

He raises his head to look at you curiously, brow knitted together with confusion.

“I’m in love with you, you asshole!” You cry, pushing at his chest. “I can’t continue to pretend this is real anymore. I love you, I absolutely love you and I can’t go on watching you pretend you love me too. It’s too much for me to handle.”

Namjoon’s world freezes in time as he watches you slide the ring off your finger. He grasps your hand to stop you, his eyes boring into your own.

“I never had to pretend.”

Before you can speak, Namjoon cups your cheek and pulls you in close, mouth sealing over your own in a desperate kiss.

You don’t fight it, not at all. You sink into his grasp and kiss him back with fervor, with all the pent-up emotions you’ve held back all this time.

“I’m in love with you,” he whispers as he pulls away from the kiss. “I meant every single word I said.”

More tears stream down your cheeks, and Namjoon is quick to wipe them away with his thumb.

“I know it’s maybe too soon for us to really be engaged, but I—I want that, with you,” he adds. “I want you to be my girlfriend… for real.”

“Are you being serious right now?” You ask as your hands cling to Namjoon’s waist.

He can’t help but to laugh, nodding in reassurance as he leans down to press his lips to yours in a tender kiss.

“Never been more serious in my life.”

“I can’t believe you’re mine,” Joon murmurs into the nape of your neck.

You were supposed to be driving home to your apartment now, back to real life, but the snowstorm raged on and Namjoon decided it might be best to spend yet another night in the cabin. Together. As a couple. A real couple.

You didn’t put up much of a fight.

He’s pressing soft kisses into your tender skin as he closes the door to the bedroom.

“All mine, all mine.” He chants it like a mantra.

You’re trying to maneuver your way into the dark bedroom, only guided by the light from the fireplace. Namjoon stops you and pulls away from your neck, eyes soaking in every inch of you.

“You have no idea what I’ve been dying to do to you,” he speaks after a moment of appreciating your beauty.

“Hmm, I think I have some idea,” you say, a finger at Namjoon’s chest, directing him towards the bed. “I’ve been dying to suck your cock, Joon,” you whisper in his ear as he makes his way backwards. “Will you let me?”

Namjoon nods in a daze as he sits on the edge of the bed and watches as you kneel. Your eyes are full of hope, full of lust. It makes his cock harden further.

“Please do,” he breathes. “I’ve wondered what you’d look like with your mouth full of my dick.”

You smile as you tug at his flannel pajama pants, pulling them down thick thighs and calves until they’re completely off. Your mouth waters at the sight before you. Namjoon’s cock is thick, head weeping with pre-cum and straining hard against his taut chest. He’s been working out more, you can tell. His arms are full and strong, and his chest is so firm and defined.

He’s an entire three-course meal.

Before you move closer to his cock, Namjoon stops you.

“Take your shirt off.”

You comply easily, already settling well into an obedient role. He discards the shirt to the side and marvels at your breasts. He can’t wait to mark them up, suck them until you’re crying.

“Perfect,” he sighs. “You’re fucking perfect.”

He allows you to resume your work, eyeing the length of his cock before wrapping a hand around it and gently pumping.

“Shit,” he breathes as his head falls back. “I’ve dreamt about how it’d feel having my cock in your hands.”

“What else have you dreamed about?” You ask with a teasing smile, bringing your lips to the tip to paint tiny stripes. He tastes salty, somewhat earthy, and the pre-cum that’s gathered at the top gets swept up by your tongue.

Namjoon can’t believe how lucky he is. Can’t believe how incredible it feels to have you here, licking at his cock like a lollipop. He’s enchanted by the way your delicate tongue swirls around his head, testing and teasing.

“You look so good, princess,” he whispers as he tucks stray hair behind your ears.

You’re encouraged by his sweet-talk and soon descend to take his cock fully in as far as you can go. You’re definitely out of practice, but you steel yourself up to take him completely to the back of your throat. Namjoon’s desperate moans and cursing only encourages you further.

Soon enough, you’ve started a rhythm of bobbing your head and swirling your tongue and pumping your hand down his thick length. The noises leaving your mouth are sinful—slurping and sucking and whining around him. Namjoon’s got a hand on the back of your head, holding your hair in a makeshift ponytail and coaxing your bouncing head further down his cock.

“Oh, shit, baby,” he grits through a tight jaw. “I’m gonna cum baby girl, fuuuuckkk—oh god, yes baby, just like that.”

You slurp and swallow around his cock as much as you can, head bobbing at a frantic pace while you cast your eyes upwards to the man to watch him come apart. He meets your eye contact and loses it at the fire burning in your beautiful eyes.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he gasps as his cock pulses. “Cumming, baby—ohhhh, shit, take it all, baby.”

After slowing your pace completely, you sweetly moan around his length as his salty cum splatters on your tongue. Bringing Namjoon to climax with your mouth is already one of your favorite hobbies, and you’re desperate to do it again.

When he’s completely spent in your mouth, you pop off carefully and present your tongue to your boyfriend, who smiles.

“You gonna swallow my cum, baby girl?” He asks, cupping your cheek sweetly.

You nod in reply, and he groans as he watches you close your mouth and visibly swallow his load.

“Fuck, that was so hot. Fucking kiss me already,” he demands, pulling you up gently by the hand and pressing his mouth to yours. He doesn’t care if he can taste himself still lingering in your mouth. In fact, he thinks your mouth should always taste like him.

Namjoon holds you close as he kisses you, tongue diving around and seeking purchase in your mouth. His hands are roaming your body, cupping your breasts and caressing your curves. He can’t get enough. He doesn’t think there will come a time in his life when he won’t love touching you.

His hand smoothes over the satin of your panties and he smirks into the kiss as he feels how wet they are.

“Oh my,” he tuts as he rubs at your clothed slit. “All this from sucking my cock, princess?”

It’s too late to be ashamed of it. You simply nod and whimper as his thick fingers rub at your core. You’re dying to feel those fingers inside you, scissoring you open to prepare you for his massive cock.

“P-please,” you gasp, needing more of him. “Please, Joon.”

He lets out a breath of contentment, loving the way his name sounds in your breathy moans. In one quick swoop, he flings your panties off and onto the floor and slides down to his knees where you knelt moments before.

“I want to see this pretty pussy up close,” he murmurs as he lays you out at the edge and spreads open your thighs as wide as he can.

You’re gorgeous, absolutely mouth-watering. He licks his lips as he watches your folds drip with arousal and takes a delicate finger to trace the slit gently.

“Fuck,” you gasp as he swirls his finger around your sensitive clit. It’s been so long since someone else has made you orgasm, you’re sure you won’t last a second with the man of your sexual dreams face-first in your cunt.

“This is my pussy now,” he states as he leans in close and licks a fat stripe from your hole to your clit. “I’m going to make you cum every fucking night, baby. Gonna claim this cunt as my own.”

You’re trembling from his words and his actions as he soon buries his face into your pussy and eats as if he’s a man starved. His tongue swirls around your hole before swiping up to your clit, making your back arch and keen off the bed. His lips wrap around your throbbing clit and sucks gently, lewd noises echoing off the walls of the bedroom.

“Namjoon!” You squeal as he slides two of his fingers inside you and slowly pumps. They’re thick and perfect, and they’re better than you could have ever dreamed.

“Cum for me, baby,” he coaxes as he licks at your clit. “I know you want to.”

He’s right. You’re desperate for it and the string inside your belly that tightens with each thrust of his solid fingers has it nearing a snapping point.

Namjoon speeds up, adds a third finger and fucks into you like a man on a mission. He watches your face pinch in agonized delight and is hypnotized by the way your tits bounce with each thrust up. His cock is rock solid again, aching to bury itself deep inside your womb and coat you with his cum.

“That’s it, baby girl,” he breathes as he watches your body quiver. “Cum on my fingers, let daddy see you fall apart.”

He presses his lips to your clit one last time and sucks, and it sends you reeling over the edge into bliss. Namjoon moans as he feels your cunt convulse and squeeze his fingers as if they’re his cock, and he nearly whines at how good it’s going to feel when he’s balls deep inside of you.

“Fuck!” You cry as your back lifts off the bed and your legs shake. “Oh, my god!”

Namjoon kitten licks at your pussy as you come down, cleaning up the juices that coat his fingers. He doesn’t break eye contact with you as he does it, sucking up your essence like it’s an expensive wine he won’t waste a drop of.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he says as you try to catch your breath. “I can’t wait to fuck you in my office.”

The smile on your face turns lustful as you spread your legs open once again and present yourself to him.

“Why don’t we practice right now?”

Namjoon grips the base of his cock and gives himself a few pumps as he stares at your gorgeous body—laid out and ready for him.

“Merry Christmas to me,” he murmurs as he presses a kiss to your lips and lines himself up.

In one swift motion, he slips inside your juicy channel and buries himself to the hilt. You’re so wet and warm and tight that Namjoon falters and groans out loud.

“Holy shit,” he cries. “Sweetest fucking pussy I’ve ever felt in my life.”

Namjoon filling you up to the brim is something you’ve only ever dreamt of, and now that it’s happening you feel intoxicated. He’s so thick inside you, stretching you past what you thought you could handle, and the burn is so sweet.

“Fuck me, Joon,” you beg as he continues to still inside you. “Please, fuck me, daddy.”

It’s the magic word for Namjoon and instantly he’s snapped back to feral, ready to claim you as his own. He grips your hips tightly as he pumps in and out of you, delighted by the squelching juicy sounds of your cunt as he takes you.

“That’s right, baby girl, I’m your fucking daddy,” he grunts. “Take this fat cock for daddy.”

Your legs quiver with each thrust and Namjoon sucks a nipple into his mouth, nibbling gently on the bud which makes your body thrum with electricity. He’s marking you, claiming you inside and out, you realize. You whine and keen for him to continue, and Namjoon growls as he doubles his pace.

He thrusts into you without abandon, desperately seeking his release that will have him spilling his cum anywhere he possibly can.

“Mmm, look at my pretty princess,” he groans as he stares at your blissed-out face. “Taking daddy’s cock so good, being a perfect little slut.”

His words make your eyes roll back into your head. You’d never had someone speak so nasty to you while being so kind and praise-worthy that you don’t think you can now ever live without it.

“G-gonna cum, daddy!” you cry as you feel your body nearing the edge. “Please let me cum!”

Namjoon gasps for air and drops a thumb to your clit to rub circles on the sensitive bundle.

“Yes, baby girl, cum for daddy. Cum on my cock, princess.”

Namjoon’s unrelenting pace and thumb handily stroking your clit brings you to the end, sending you screaming into orgasmic delight.

Namjoon nearly weeps at how good your cunt feels convulsing around his cock, walls coaxing him and gripping him tight as if your pussy is begging for his own release.

“Cum inside me daddy, please,” you beg as you try to catch your breath.

Namjoon needs no more permission. He gasps as your channel tightens around him impossibly and sends him into his own release. He whimpers as his cock pulses with ferocity, loads of cum splattering your walls.

He doesn’t pull out. Instead, he rests his sweaty forehead on yours as you both try to catch your breath.

“Holy shit,” you gasp as you feel yourself returning to Earth.

Namjoon laughs and presses a kiss to your lips, before nodding.

“Yeah,” is all he can manage.

After a few shuddering breaths, you wrap your arms around your boyfriend’s naked body and hold him close, as close as you can.

“If this is what Christmas is all about, sign me up.”

Namjoon buries his face into your neck and kisses you sweetly, before lifting and giving you a playful smile.

“I guess all Scrooge needed was a good fuck. Dickens got that part all wrong.”

Returning to work after the New Year was easier this year than it had ever been in your career.

Namjoon was given the promotion. He told Seokjin he wanted to keep his corner office near you because he “likes the view”, and that he would give all his top cases to the best lawyer in the office—you.

Jimin won’t stop screaming when he sees the diamond ring on your finger. You haven’t wanted to take it off since the moment you put it on. Maybe it’s not an engagement ring quite yet, maybe it’s just more of a promise. Either way, Jimin is ecstatic and confused as he shakes you down for answers.

He walks with you to your desk, chattering away about his week with Yoongi, while you sip your convenience store coffee.

“What the fuck?” Jimin asks as he notices something on your desk. “What is that?”

As you round the corner, your eyes catch sight of a gleaming silver contraption on your desk, right next to your brand new computer.

A Nespresso.

A smile crosses your lips as you approach the expensive machine and notice a folded up card on top.

Inside, the card is simple.

“To the only girl in the world who deserves a Nespresso. Love, Namjoon.”

taglist - @ardoren @devilion14 @bykookie @rageyoudamnednerd @holynamtiddies @thejooncrew @dee-ehn @yrc1963 @fireheart2003

#bts smut #bts fanfic #kim namjoon smut #rm smut #namjoon smut #ficswithluv #rockin around the christmas tropes #bts imagines #bts reactions #kim namjoon imagines

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kimetsu-no-imagines · 3 years

Text

submission request

its ur bf write me rengoku porn rn before i kiss you in electrical- u know what i want 😩 ——————————————————————————- a/n : !!!!!! anything for u babe!!!!! a request from my bf,,,,,,,how special,,,,especially when haven’t written on here in forever,,,,,, warnings ; mugen train spoilers!!!!!!!!!! s o m a n y!!!!!! mentions of rengoku/akaza fight, alternate universe where rengoku lives it’s what we all want anyway, pre-established relationship/rengoku is your husband, breeding/pregnancy kink, rengoku living and dying (figuratively) between your legs, “dirty” talk but rengoku is such a loving man i don’t think it should even be called that here, uhhhh body worship but with his eyes? its very vague but it is there, boy just loves you okay, also none of this is proof read or anything if that matters word count ; 2,728

I’m Home

When you first hear about it, of course, like his fellow pillars, you’re terrified-thankful, naturally, that your husband at least hasn’t died, but the crow sent to inform you of the events of his mission, of his injuries, doesn’t exactly try to sugar coat anything, not even for you, his spouse.

Skull fractures from dodging the punch that would have smashed his eye completely, broken ribs from dodging yet another hit that, if he hadn’t moved back fast enough, would have gone through him and killed him-the details were gruesome, they were bone-chilling, it wasn’t as if you or anyone particularly enjoyed hearing about it, but one thing was for certain-you were relieved not to have lost him to this, to have lost anyone. Tanjiro and the others were so strong, so hard-working, and they were so young, with so much to live for-you couldn’t imagine how you’d feel if anything had happened to them, either.

There’s so much about it that pains you-not being able to have your husband home with you after he’d already been so busy with this mission and the ones before it, knowing how injured he was and how long it’d take him to recover at the Butterfly Estate, it was all… Torture. Not that you couldn’t go see him, of course-but Shinobu urged you to stay home and relax, you wouldn’t want to see him in the state that he was in, she promised you that much. Her crow did come by to personally update you on his condition every day or so, though-that was at least some amount of relief.

… Or, it would have been. You hadn’t seen any crow come by in a week or so, to the day-and yes, you kept track, because of course you did, you were an anxious wreck, and it’d already been months of your husband steadily recovering, or so you thought. Had he died from his injuries? Did something happen to the estate, were more people hurt? … Well. You supposed that was a silly thought, she lived so close to the Master’s own residence-no demon could get close enough to hurt them, with all the wisteria around both places.

You were so used to having your husband around to calm you when you thought about the worst things, like this-your heart hurt with anxiety and worry. What could you do but stand outside by the door, every day, for hours, just waiting for some sign, of a crow, of Shinobu herself, of anything?

It was another day that had gone by just like that-your feet and legs ached from keeping yourself up for so long, dried tear trails staining the sides of your face-you knew it was silly of you, you knew you should have tried to be at least a little stronger, for him if no one else, but… You just couldn’t help it. You hated this. You just wanted your husband back.

A dejected sigh leaves you as you watch the sun set for just one more moment before turning to go back inside, tears stinging at the corners of your eyes again-maybe tomorrow you’ll go up to Shinobu’s estate yourself. You couldn’t stand this for another–

“Hahaha! Now isn’t this strange! You’re running away from me!”

Your heart stops, and you freeze in place. What?

You feel him before you can turn to see him-chest pressed against your back, though soon you’re spun around and pulled up into a crushing hug anyway, and it’s all you can do to immediately start sobbing into your husband’s brightly-colored hair as you’re held.

“… Hello, my sweet,” His voice is no longer booming and jovial like it was a moment ago, but soft, gentle and meant only for you, as he squeezes you to him-you want to worry about the injuries he was supposed to be recovering from still, but you don’t want this to end, either. You suppose, he must have just been coming around the corner and through the gate when you turned to go inside-not that it mattered, all that did matter was that he was… Here, holding you.

“You must have missed me terribly!” All hearty, he laughs with you again, even if all you can do is cry in his arms while he rubs soothingly at your back, “But of course I missed you terribly too! I tried many times to sneak out and come home to you, but Shinobu or one of the other girls always caught me-”

You missed his voice dearly, you did-and you were still crying, but you couldn’t help but lean up and kiss him. It was something you usually did to quiet him, for sure, but right now you just… Needed him. And he didn’t seem to mind, hands happily and readily sliding down to hoist you up into his arms, never breaking from you as he carried you into your home.

“… Such a beautiful shouldn’t have quite so many tears upon it, you know,”He mumbles gently against your lips, and you sniffle as you finally reach up to start wiping at them, “I-I just missed you so much, Kyojuro, I was so scared-you were almost-you could have-”

“But I didn’t, and I won’t.” He interrupts you sweetly, but firmly nonetheless, shaking his head at you, “I am fine. I am healed, my love. I am still here to fulfill my duties-and I always will be. That includes my duties to you as your husband.”

“I…” It doesn’t feel like you should believe it-after what you’d heard of his battle, knowing he’d even just encountered an Upper Moon demon, this felt too good to be real or true, and yet… There’s such certainty and finality blazing in his eyes as he stares at you, all you can do is nod.

“… Alright.”

———————————————–

… Really, all you had intended to do this evening, now that you had your husband home with you, was cook him his favorite meal and go to sleep with him, in his arms, for the first time in who knew how long, at this point. Truthfully, that had been your only goal. You wanted him to rest, no matter how many times he told you just how fully recovered he was through the mouthfuls of sweet potato you so lovingly prepared for him-and yet… And yet…

Well, you suppose you simply didn’t account for him wanting… Dessert.

“It’s been so long,” The words are mumbled around you, your flesh, as he greedily, really voraciously eats and licks you up from between your legs-you’d already known him to be feral when presented with the sweet treat only you could provide him with, but this was something else entirely, “-it’s been too long, my love, don’t you understand how very hungry I am?”

You don’t, but by no means are you going to let that stop either of you. You missed his mouth just as much as he missed your taste.

“K-Kyojuro-Kyojuro, I’m-Kyo–”

… He’s never been one to tease or deny you. And yet just as you’re about to cum, so close to the edge you could have tasted it yourself, he’s pulling away from you. His lips and chin and… Well, his face, in general, are so shiny with you-you easily forget your frustration and get lost in the blissful look in his eyes as he cleans himself with his tongue. “While you certainly are the most delicious thing in this world, my sweet,” He crawls up the length of your body so quickly, so desperate to smash his lips to your own, “-as I’ve told you, it’s been far too long. I want to feel you cum around my cock this evening. But I’m sure you have no complaint either way?” Any other day, you’d want to hit him, to get that cheeky look off of his face, but… You also can’t say you don’t want that. Maybe you really don’t have any complaints either way. “… You’re awful,” You huff up at him, but you nod, “… But alright.” … And yet he stays still. It would be so easy-you’re properly soaked, and the pair of you are completely naked, and yet your infuriating husband is just… Sitting there, hovering over you with a smile on his face. It’s a soft, loving smile-but you’ve known him so long, you don’t miss the mischief in his eyes. “… Can I not admire you, my beautiful spouse? Even for a moment, after I’ve been gone from you for so very long?” It’s not a crime for him to stare at you so adoringly-really, you’d love it if you weren’t as damn horny as you were. But... It has been a long time. He’s teasing, but as much as that’s true, you know he’s being earnest, too-his eyes flicker all over your form so carefully, meticulously re-memorizing every tiny detail about you. “... Even more beautiful then before I left you, dear one,” The way he murmurs it, so absently, it’s almost more like he’s saying it to himself, but his eyes raised to bore back into yours after a minute-clearly, he wants you to hear every word of what he’s saying, absent or not. “... Would you like to know something I thought about while I was away?” His love renders you breathless, speechless-it’s all you can do to nod up at him. “During the brief hours of respite I would get, I would think to myself... What would it be like to come back to you, our home... How would it feel, the joy of it all... And then, another thought had started to occur to me,” A sharp gasp tears through you as you feel a few fingers suddenly and swiftly beginning their work at stretching you out-sneaky man, he’d distracted you from his hands with his voice, and even then, he kept talking like he hadn’t done anything, “... What would it be like if I could come home to the sight of you all swollen and glowing with our child...?” Those words rob you of whatever meager amount of breath you had managed to regain. With your child...? “... Oh, my love, you squeezed my fingers so nicely just now,” He marvels at the sight, the feeling of you, worrying his lip between his teeth-you’re so pretty like this, is what he wants to say, but his mind is suddenly consumed by the thought he’d put into both your heads a moment ago. You, glowing with the product of your love in your stomach. You don’t fail to notice the twitching of his cock where it hangs all hard between his legs. “Do you like the sound of that, then...? Do you want to carry my children, our children, my dear one? I’ll give it to you if you just say the word-after all, what poor excuse of a husband would I be if I didn’t?” His fingers move in and out of you faster, frantic and eager to prepare you for him, now, as he almost rambles on like that-his words set your body, your insides, on fire. You do want it, you realize-it’s not something you’d given much thought to before, but here, like this, right now after spending so much time worrying about losing him? You really do want nothing more. “P-p-please, please Kyojuro, I want-please give me your children, I want it, I want you, please make me pregnant, my husband, please-” It’s not meant to egg him on, truly it isn’t-you just can’t help but beg with how badly you want it yourself. But that doesn’t mean you don’t delight in the way he seems to snap, just the slightest bit, above you, quickly removing his fingers from you to replace them with his cock-what you’d been waiting for since he laid you down in bed earlier. That felt like an eternity ago right now, though. The stretch isn’t an uncomfortable one, with the care he’d still taken to prepare you-you missed it, if anything, you missed him. And it’s clear that he feels the same-he’s gone so tense above you, arms trembling on either side of you with the restraint it takes not to move. Somehow, he still manages to keep up that bright smile of his, too. “Do tell me when I can move, my love. This is a bit unbearable with how lovely you feel!” ... As hazy as your mind was with pleasure, you couldn’t help but giggle. Even now, your husband was so... Endearing. So cute. Your bring your hands up to hold his face as you nod your head eagerly, over and over, “Please, Kyojuro-please, I want it,” You can see that he wants to worry about you, wants to ask you again to make sure-but he can’t, his body betrays him, his hips instantly slotting themselves against your own, pulling back only to quickly bring themselves back down, his cock pressing and rubbing against every bit of your insides as it moves in and out of you, over and over and over, so fast-and your husband hardly even breaks a sweat. ... His being a demon slayer, and a pillar, at that, had its perks, you supposed. His stamina was one of them. But he seemed to already be losing his composure, too, with just how long it’d been since you’d gotten to be so close. “This-this is embarrassing, haha-I feel like I could burst at any moment already-just-just thinking about how-utterly perfect you’d look, ah-” His hips stutter, and he stills for a second, to keep his own pleasure at bay for a moment-though he makes up for it with the hand that shoots down to rub and stroke at what his cock isn’t already touching, “-goodness gracious-how perfect you’d look, pregnant, my love-” As if you aren’t ready to burst, yourself. Did he suddenly forget about denying you mere minutes ago...? “M-my husband-my husband, Kyojuro, please, m-me too, just go ahead, please-please give me your child, give it to me, please-” “You’re really as difficult as you are beautiful!” The very wind is knocked out of you as you find your legs suddenly on either side of your head, as he fucks into you with a very renewed, fittingly fiery sense of vigor and passion, grunting freely every time he feels you wrap around him again and again, “I truly did want to take my time with you this evening, my sweet-how irresistible you are like this-I’ll have to savor you another time-” This position, the wildness in his eyes, the feeling and the sight of him-yes, the sight of him, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t see the bulge appearing and disappearing from your stomach-fucking into you desperately, all of it is far too much for you, far too overwhelming, but of course he revels above you in the way you clamp down on him and make a sudden, abrupt mess all over the pair of you, not to mention the futon underneath you. “So beautiful-so beautiful like this, my love-I-just the sight of you, you’re going to make me-goodness-” He leans over you and folds you in half even further, nose brushing against your neck, “I-I’m going to-I’m going to give it to you now, alright? I swear it, my love, my dear one, I’ll-I’ll get you pregnant, I promise, I promise, I--” It’s so intense, he almost roars as it washes over him, as he fills you up so completely it leaks out of you, with how long its been since either of you had any form of... Release. Your legs are released, and they flop numbly down against the plush futon beneath you-your husband can barely keep himself up, but he at least tries to be careful as he collapses against you, chuckling so happily against your shoulder while you can hardly keep your eyes open, let alone say anything. You wish you had the sense what was apparently so... Funny, right now. “... I love you, _____.” The biggest wave of tranquility falls over you, hearing those words. You can’t quite say much of anything still, but he knows-he sees it in your eyes when he looks up at your face. You love him too. Right now, that’s all he needs. “I really am so happy to be home, dear one.”

#demon slayer kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #demon slayer imagines #rengoku kyojuro #rengoku x reader #rengoku smut #demon slayer smut #submission

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oh-no-a-whovian · 2 years

Text

Two more lonely people Part 16

NSFW 18+

Summary: “you're a sick twisted bitch!”

Pairing: Bruno Madrigal x fem werewolf! reader

Warnings: age gap (Y/N is 25 and Bruno is 50) swearing, another appearance of the bastard. any others let me know please. Gif not mine, belongs to peanutcrow

Word count: 2187

Masterlist PT1 Next

Bruno’s POV:

“So… d-do you believe them? About why they came?” he asks, running his finger in circles on her hip, enjoying the warmth of her body close to his. She told him everything her stepmother had told her, not leaving a single thing out and trusting him completely. Still, he is worried, the vision still stands and something bad has to be coming, it always is.

“Ugh I have no idea.” She sighs dramatically, pushing Bruno onto his back and straddling his hips, running her fingers through his fine chest hair. “This is so infuriating, Brunito! I can’t decide between wishing you’d never looked into the future in the first place and wishing your vision was more detailed.” She whines, pouting down at him. “I don’t want to be questioning everything”

“Lo siento” he apologises. He wishes he could take it back, but he was so worried about her, it was the only thing he could think of doing on that moment. He definitely understands why she’s so frustrated though. It’s better not knowing even some of the future. Just knowing a little bit can drive someone mad.

“it’s okay! It’s just… ugh! I wish there was a way to know what they really want. I just can’t bring myself to believe that they’re here because they were worried about me being a lone wolf. Or that my father is here for forgiveness and a fresh start…” she admits. “it’s weird that the second one is more believable though…”

“you’ll figure it all out, mi ceilo, I have faith in you” he smiles shyly, pulling her down to cuddle close, her body pressed tight to his and her face nuzzling into his neck making him smile. “And I will be here for you, no matter what”

“I love you Bruno” she whispers into his skin, pressing a gentle kiss where her words had caressed.

“I love you too.”

No matter how many time she says those words he feels his heart beat a little faster, and he hopes that never goes away. The buzz of her touch and the butterflies from her kisses. The rush of lust with just few of her words. He hopes to understand her and love her completely, to give her exactly the love she deserves. Even though he’s not like her, she will be his everything. He won’t mess this up again.

~~~~~

[Y/N]’s POV

The full moon is tomorrow and you’re nervous about having two other wolves within Encanto’s border, within your territory, making everything smell like them. You gave them permission to turn here but if you’re honest, you really don’t want them anywhere within the mountain range.

“Lost in your thoughts again?” Dolores’ voice pulls you from your mind, bringing you back to the present. “that’s like the fifth time since we sat down.” She points out with a squeak, watching you with worry.

She’d invited you out for lunch, wanting to spend time with you and have a reason to get you and Isabela out of the house. Your other friend is practically refusing to look at you and it hurts. you were surprised she even came with how she’s been avoiding you nearly as much as Camilo had been.

“Sorry…” you breathe, rubbing your hands over your face and up into your hair, you’re sure they were talking but you didn’t hear any of it. “it’s just, tomorrow is the full moon, and I’m sure you know why I’m nervous about it” you shrug, sipping at your coffee, looking up at them through your lashes. You notice Isa roll her eyes but don’t say anything, unwilling to start conflict in such a public location. You wish she’d talk to you. “You haven’t heard them say anything weird right?”

“Not really… I heard your step mum mention that you’re beautiful and they seemed happy to find you. They don’t seem to speak their thoughts very frequently.” She tells you, though she looks away as if she has more to say.

“And?”

“The way your stepmother and stepbrother were talking about you seemed… weird.” She frowns. “Not their words so much but the way they said them, just seemed off.”

“How…”

“[Y/N]?” a male voice behind you makes you stiffen and if you were in wolf form, you’re sure your hackles would have stood tall. You don’t want to turn to see your father there, staring at you hopeful. Isa and Dol glare at him and take your hands, though you’re surprised Isabela did given how she’s been acting toward you. “I’m glad to finally see you… I was wondering… if we could talk?”

“If we ‘talk’, will you finally leave Encanto so I never have to see you again?” you practically growl, refusing to look at him as your heart begins to race with fear. You’re not even sure there’s much to talk about, at least there isn’t much you’re willing to tell him.

“I just want a chance to talk to my daughter… but if that’s what it takes…” he sighs.

“Fine.” You squeeze your friends’ hands and get up from the café table, bringing your coffee with you to where he wants to sit. You’re not sure how you feel about the more secluded area of the café, but you know Dolores can hear everything, so if you need help you know she’ll be there. Maybe once this is over Isa will finally talk to you again. “So… what do you want to talk about?” you say curtly as you sit down, ready to get this interaction over with.

“I… you seem quite popular here, your mother chose a great place to raise you…” he starts, unsure of what to say now that he has your attention it seems.

“No thanks to you.” You snip back.

“I just want to get to know my daughter…”

“Then you shouldn’t have done what you did.” You point out blatantly. You know in your heart that you can’t give him a chance. There’s no room for forgiveness for him, you looked but can’t find it within you. You just want him gone.

“I know… I’ve regretted it for years, especially now… seeing how much you’ve grown… how much I’ve missed…” he pauses, trying to push away the emotions he let come to the surface. “How about we start with something easier? Do you have a job? Your mother said she’s got her own business as a seamstress, but she didn’t mention if you had work”

“I was working with the farmers for a while, looking after their livestock, but now I’ve got another thing going on.” You roll your eyes. Simple pleasantries you can do, as long as it gets him gone from your home. You can’t help being confrontational, unable to get past anything to even pretend.

“ok” he smiles and nods, trying to be patient. “I noticed you’re not married yet” he continues, pointing at your ringless finger. “Do you have a special someone?”

“Yeah, the man I was holding hands with when I found you in my house.” You lean back in your chair waiting for his reaction. you know what it looks like to others, Bruno is twice your age, you being with him has created judgment and concern from most of the people in Encanto, but they accepted it… eventually. you don’t expect him to accept anything or even care if he does.

“He’s a bit… old for you, isn’t he?”

“We don’t need to talk about Bruno.” You state dead pan, lifting the last of your coffee to your mouth and downing it. “In fact, I don’t think we need to talk about anything. We’ve spoken, now you can leave Encanto.” You tell him, rising from your seat.

“Wait… I- I’ve barely gotten to know anything about you.” He begs, making you flinch as he grabs your arm to stop you from leaving.

“Because I don’t want you to!” you yank your arm from his grasp and shout in his face. “I don’t want you to know anything about me! you threw away that right when you did what you did! It took me years! Years, to move past those few months. I still have nightmares!” you pause to take deep breaths, glaring at the man before you. Everyone in the café is staring and your friends have joined your side, holding your hands and gently pulling you away from the bastard. You can feel in your mouth that your teeth are sharper and a quick glance at a mirror behind the café counter confirms you started to shift, your eyes glowing bright. “You need to leave.”

“Evaline won’t let me, not yet… but I’ll stay out of your way.” He sighs defeated “I’m sorry that I hurt you and I hope one day you’ll forgive me.” He says as he passes you.

“Not likely” you growl, your lip curved in a snarl as you watch him leave.

No one can simply get over something like that. It took you years to accept it and start to heal but that scar will always be there and him showing up has just reopened the wound.

~~~~~

“Are you okay?” Isabela asks, staring ahead at the cobble stone path back to casita.

“you’re talking to me now?” you sigh, your voice barely audible over the wind. You’re tired, that man was like a leech, that whole interaction sapping away your energy.

“I’m not going to apologise.” She tells you, holding herself taller as she walks beside you.

“didn’t expect you to.”

“I just wish you told me…”

“You saying you would have reacted differently had I come and told you that I was developing feeling for your tio?”

“Yes… no… I don’t know” she sighs, taking your hand to stop you from walking further. “I proved you right when I reacted like that, didn’t I? you didn’t tell me because you knew I’d take it bad, and I proved you right.”

“a little bit yeah…” you smile at her. “Honestly though… I was just waiting… till I knew if it was right” you admit “I didn’t want to tell everyone when I wasn’t sure.”

“I understand.” She nods, finally smiling back at you after weeks of nothing. Gods, you missed her.

“Do you forgive me? For hiding it?”

“si.” she pauses for a moment, her face showing her pensive mind, thoughts she isn’t sure she should reveal. “I have something to admit though… when you said some time ago that maybe we should get married so you’d become a Madrigal and we wouldn’t have to worry about boys anymore… I liked that idea and maybe… some part of me… hoped that could happen.”

“Oh isa...” you pull her into a hug, holding your best friend tight. “Maybe in another life.” You muse. “Though I’m starting to wonder if you Madrigals have a thing for werewolves.” You grin, giggling as she smacks you on the arm.

“As if.” She laughs. “let’s go home.”

~~~~~

Next night:

“Are you sure you want to go out during this full moon?” Bruno asks as he follows you out of his room. it’s almost time. “You could stay in here. I could do one of my telenovelas, or…”

“it’ll be fine Bruno.” You smile, kissing his cheek and placing the sweet Pétalo on his shoulder. “And you know I don’t like being locked up during a full moon. I need to feel the grass under my oversized paws”

“You won’t be locked up… you’ll be safe with me, cuddling and enjoying time with me but in wolf form. You can play in the sand and I’m sure Pétalo would like you to stay.” He grins, trying to play it like he’s some kind of needy boyfriend or that the rat needs you. You know he’s nervous though. With your father in town and your first shift with other werewolves nearby, the vision is becoming a reality. For all either of you know though it could be a meaningless squabble between wolves.

You give him a look, smirking and raising your eyebrow. He knows you’re not gonna stay cooped up on a full moon, it’s the one time being outside feels necessary for shifting. But it’s adorable that he’s trying to keep you safe and that he loves you so much.

“You gotta remember, Bruno” you wrap your arms around his waist, pulling him tight to your chest and holding your lips a mere breath from his. “I’m a big strong wolf” you peck his lips lightly before pulling away and stepping out into the early evening’s moonlight.

Your body shifts and you’re covered in soft white fur once more. The usual scents of the night fill your nose mixing with the new smells of the other two wolves. They’re somewhere past the tree line out of sight but close to the casita.

You turn to Bruno, your sharp teeth bared into what you hope looks like a smile and your tail waving side to side. You press your wet black nose to his cheek and disappear into the jungle.

A/N: I feel like ass but I got it done, managed to push through and finish last minute. Hope you all still enjoy it! Remember to like and reblog to share the love!!!

two more lonely people tags:

@pink-hufflepuff @kyriekurokami @goblinenby @fraujar @ducks118 @lemonbaby @sylum @life-hater39 @abelbai000 @sarashitposts @sweatyroadcowboyjudge @mother-dragon-and-her-hatchlings @elysiadjarin @multifandombtch @insanitybyanothername @inthewindsomehow @gloryekaterina @anactualvelociraptor @originalsoulcollector @hlxoos @tangerine-kitten @psychomanias @nectamburne @mary-wolf @wo1fwitch @jesuisravenclaw @shaddow-darkcloud @ryou-cosmos @puck-the-puppy @totofranken @butchcupid @mintymonicalei @azeret-mirror @a-gay-cryptid @cl0vr @tigreost @kenzi-woycehoski @acdassenza @coffee-cupps @krazyk99 @small-town-wayward-daughter @unstableyetloveable @nikt-wazny-y @animeluver23 @fuxkyoshizz @slytherinxhunter @butterfly-lies-chase-them-away

#bruno madrigal x reader #bruno madrigal #reader insert #encanto x reader #we dont talk about bruno #werewolf reader #disney's encanto #bruno my beloved 💚💚💚💚💚💚

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iiraven · 3 years

Text

Fool-Proof Plan

Pairing: Erwin x reader

Genre: fluff, comedy, smut, modern AU

Warnings: size kink, masturbation, squirting, fingering in front of a mirror, hair pulling, multiple orgasms, manhandling, degradation, praise, established relationship, slight dumbification, choking/ breath play

Word count: 4.6K

Synopsis: Erwin’s business trip leads you to realise you’re not as sly as you think you are.

Masterlist

Erwin Smith is a man capable of absolutely everything. He’s an amazing cook, an amazing masseur, an amazing businessman, and, most of all, an amazing husband.

There’s only one small shortcoming to the person you consider to be perfect. And that’s his inability to use any form of technology. Texting is bad enough with him signing his name after every message, but it’s social media that’s your husband’s true sworn enemy. Erwin might only be a few years your senior, but somehow your grandfather can comprehend the concept of Instagram faster than him.

“So, you just take pictures?”

“Yes.”

“And people respond to it?”

“Yes.”

“Alright but why?”

The conversation is nothing new, but you find it incredibly unfortunate knowing how talented he is at photography. If you two ever go someplace Erwin knows he wants to capture, he slings his camera over his neck, leaves his phone at home (“I won’t be taking any calls today”) and makes his merry way out of the house. You often eye the phone left stray on the desk, half-expecting it to chase you out of the house for abandoning it. Sometimes, for good measure, you slip it into your own bag. Just in case.

It’s for this reason that Erwin’s business trip puts you on immediate edge.

“It’ll only be for ten days,” he had said. “Sina Corporations takes their summits really seriously…”

“Ten days?” You repeated and Erwin gave you a soft smile.

“I’ll call you every day.”

It’s not like you have an obsessive attachment to your husband (well, that’s debatable), but breaking the routine of returning home to his warm hugs, listening to his day and then complaining about your own- it’s uncomfortable.

Erwin himself wasn’t looking forward to being away from you, away from home. Running Survey Corporations Ltd is no easy task; trying to balance the infuriating board and the long hours with his actual life is something only possible because of you. Time spent together is fine diamonds Erwin clutches onto and although he’d tried to reason with himself that it was only ten days, it wasn’t a trip he was looking forward to. He never said it out loud. But he didn’t need to. You can tell by the way Erwin’s lips linger on yours a little longer at the airport, as if to preserve your taste.

“Oi Erwin- hurry up.” Levi tries hard not to glare. But even the raven-haired man knows that being away from you puts Erwin on somewhat of an edge. You’re his rock, there to ground him when everything is chaotic, and a summit surrounded by the richest people in the world is as chaotic as it gets.

Despite it all, Erwin stays true to his promise. He calls you at least twice a day and although you could stay on the phone with him for hours, he’s often rushing between conferences and can only spare minutes of his time. Even when he does have an hour, talking to a disembodied voice (he still can’t figure out how to switch his camera back around) is not the same as having Erwin right beside you. It’s the way he squeezes your thigh when he’s focussing on what you’re saying or when he pulls you towards him so that you can lie on his hard chest which still makes you blush even after years of being together.

Because, yes, you miss his touch the most.

Not even five days in, you find yourself with your hands down your panties and a tall blond man on your mind. You’re soaked just thinking about him. His groans, the way he calls your name, the way he pounds into you as you lose your train of thought. Your fingers try to imitate his- their curve and how easily they find your soft spot- but it just feels uncomfortable. So, then you try rubbing your clit, and there’s temporary pleasure there, but not even close enough to tip you over the edge. Even your pink vibrator doesn’t cut it. You deny the fact that Erwin Smith has made you an incompetent masturbator, but you can’t keep up the lie for long and soon enough you give up.

It’s the next day that your ingenious idea kindles. It’s a fool-proof plan. A small flame that has you rushing to the bathroom for the best possible lighting. Erwin can still put his tongue to use at a distance- after all, it’s his voice you fell in love with first. To discretely push him in the right direction, you send him a few photos of yourself. Nothing too scandalous safe he’s in a meeting, but enough that he’ll gets the hint. Sure, Erwin has a couple of polaroid pictures hidden in his brown leather wallet, but he had shot those himself. You want to be a bit more spontaneous! And, honestly, at this point you’re desperate. You could swear you’re developing withdrawal symptoms: just the other day, you were actually temped to pick up a newspaper. It was terrifying.

This had to work. You can just imagine Erwin calling you, voice deep and gruff as he guides you through the process to make yourself cum as he showers you with praise. You feel giddy, eyes glued to the glowing screen, awaiting his response. Even your pink vibrator is out of the box.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t exactly go the way you had planned.

One hour after sending the photos you receive a panicked text from Hange. In the long paragraph, you understand that your poor husband couldn’t get the photos to load and decided to consult the vice president of his company who, upon simply clicking on them, saw you groping your soapy tits. Had it been anyone other than vice president Hange Zoe, Erwin may have broken his phone and quit right there. Thankfully, he only said, “I see” and then asked her where to find the smiley face Emoji.

“I’m so, so sorry Y/N!” Hange screams through the phone. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise! I could send you a picture of my boobs! I’ll go do it right now! I’m sorry! No- You don’t need to feel embarrassed! I won’t mind!”

“It’s alright Hange.” You laugh nervously. “You don’t need to send me anything, it’s really not that big of a deal.”

The whack Levi lands on her head is so hard you hear it through the phone. “Shut the fuck up four-eyes.”

So here you are now. Three days until Erwin returns, a vibrator you’ve given up on back in its box, and a husband who responds to your nudes with a smiley face.

But then Hange Zoe sends you something much better than a picture of her boobs.

The hotel that the trio were staying at- as most hotels do- has a spa. And if there’s one thing Erwin Smith adores it’s allowing himself to relax in a warm, steamy sauna. You’re not sure how Hange was allowed to join them, or how she was able to get her camera clear of fog, or how she was even able to take the picture without Erwin noticing. But you ask her no questions.

Followed by a winky-face is a picture of Erwin sat in the sauna, head tilted backwards, and eyes shut in the pure image of serenity. His arms are propped up on either side of him accentuating his biceps whilst still allowing a clear view of his sculpted body, the sweat running down his chest and abs, making him almost glisten. He’s completely naked except for the flimsy white towel across his lap which does absolutely nothing to hide his thick dick print. You shudder.

You feel like a teenager again, speechless at the sight of a quasi- naked man. Even though you’ve seen him like this thousands of times, you can’t help but fantasise about being trapped underneath him, hair falling onto his face as he loses himself inside of you. God, maybe you do have an unhealthy obsession. But it doesn’t matter. You feel even more like a teenager as you imagine scenarios of him returning home to recreate the picture before you. And with that, your mind is sedated for the next few days.

You have a fool-proof plan. Dress up in the shortest and tightest dress you own, cook your husband dinner, and then give him a blow job at the table so that he’ll never leave you again. It’s going to be just like in the movies and nothing will stop that from happening.

Something stops that from happening.

Just as you’re about to put the potatoes in the oven, Erwin calls. His flight is delayed. You whine through the phone and Erwin’s chuckle just about stops you from sulking like a child. You can be mature about this, right? He’s getting home eventually- complaining isn’t going to help at all. Patience is a virtue and yours has been tested many times before. This is, after all, nothing compared to the time Erwin tried to create an excel spreadsheet. So, you don’t press further. You simply tell Erwin that you miss him and then go find a pillow in which you scream for a good five minutes.

Erwin, on the other hand, is a lot less coveted with his annoyance. He wants nothing more than to strangle whatever and whoever is preventing him from returning to his lovely wife. In the hour journey, the entire plane can feel a crushing tension above their heads, so tense that even the child at the back seems to be holding in his tears.

Usually, Erwin prefers to spend his flights with a book in his hands, but he’s incapable for picking up the paperback and instead stares out of the window somehow hoping it will go faster.

After what feels like hours, the tight dress has gotten too uncomfortable for you to wear and you resolve yourself to eating the potatoes alone. You still don’t take off your lingerie, though. A two-piece black set with lace detailing that makes you look like a present ready to be unwrapped. It had arrived yesterday, and you had taken your sweet time admiring the embroidered flowers and soft ribbon holding the fragile piece together because you had falsely assumed that you wouldn’t have it on for long. You had in fact contemplated stockings but by the time 11PM came by you simply wrapped Erwin’s favourite robe around your body and tried to take your mind off things. Maybe you should have opted for your own robe because as the sleeves hung from your arms and the soft material effused his smell, it managed to make you feel even worse.

Staying up late was not a foreign feeling but anticipation quickly turns into boredom and you find your eyelids getting heavy. You pause the anime you’re watching and are about to shut your eyes when you hear the faint rattle of keys.

You stumble getting out of bed, knocking your shoulder on the wall before skipping four steps at a time and tripping on the robe at least twice as you rush downstairs. Erwin is barely through the door as you call out his name and he drops his bags right there to let your rush into your arms. You feel so small, so safe, so familiar, within them, as if you’ve returned to the space where you belong. He lifts you up to let you wrap your legs around his waist, your ankles barely crossing. He smells divine, even after hours of being stuck in an airport and his hair is still soft between your fingers. You look at him and the smile that spreads across his face wipes out any hints of fatigue that might have been there just moments ago.

Erwin kisses you and it’s long, deep, and he holds you impossibly closer to him as his tongue dips into your mouth. You don’t want it to end, but Erwin pulls back and says softly, “I’m home, my love.”

You can’t help but giggle. “Welcome home.”

You return to the kiss with a hint of desperation. Tugging lightly on Erwin’s shirt, you know he notices how your core is already warm, but still, he takes his time closing the door with his foot before finally noticing your attire. You’re about to make a sarcastic comment about his obliviousness but the way he looks down at you, at the small flower of lace peeping out from under the heavy robe, the way he slowly wets his lips, he leaves you speechless.

“You’re a gift.” He smiles sweetly though his eyes darken.

“Well, you’ve been working really hard,” You mumble. “You deserve a treat.”

The effect this man has on you is unbelievable. All that anger and frustration you had pent up now crumbles at the light caress of his thumb on your hips.

“Let me unwrap you,” Erwin says. And he walks you to your room, climbing up the stairs with ease as you cling onto him. You attempt to rub yourself against his hard stomach, but one look of warning makes you stop. He’s going to be doing things on his watch, tonight.

Setting you on the floor beside your bed, Erwin undoes the ribbon and you let the fabric pool at your feet. He immediately latches onto your neck, and you gasp, tilting your head to give him better access. His hands begin to roam, fingering the delicate lace of your panties and the straps of your bra as his tongue leaves a trail over your chest. It’s only when Erwin suddenly grabs your breast that you moan, body involuntarily pushing towards him.

He looks up through thick eyelashes and his hands moves to cup your face. You’re about to beg him to touch you where you need it most, but he whispers, “you’re so beautiful.” And you’re speechless again.

You suddenly lean in to kiss him, hands wrapping around his neck and it’s messy and your breath is short. “Please, Erwin,” you say to him between kisses. “Touch me.” You can feel him smile against your lips. “Please”. And before you can stop yourself. “I can’t do it myself.”

Erwin stills and only then do you realise your mistake. He pulls back and stands up straight, towering over you and you recognises that look. It’s the one of a lion who has just found a wounded deer.

“Oh?”

Fuck. He leans back and raises a brow expectantly and you try to look everywhere but at him. Maybe if you avoid eye contact, he’ll take it as a slip of the tongue. But your husband is not one to let things go. He’s intelligent, he knows exactly what you mean- you don’t need to speak for him to gather what happened, the image of you lying pathetically on the bed, hopeless and desperate. He smirks but stays quiet. Erwin likes it when you use your words.

“No-that’s not what I meant. I mean- you feel best and it’s just-“

You’re cut off by a hand on your scalp, pulling your hair back in one swift motion so that you have no choice but to look up at your husband dead in the eye.

“You were touching yourself whilst I was away, Y/N?”

“I-I mean...yeah…”

“I see.” His gaze is enough to make you gush. “And you weren’t able to make yourself cum.”

Your cheeks burn. It’s not a question, but you affirm it anyways. “No, no I couldn’t make myself cum.”

He’s silent for a moment and you’re not sure if it’s because he’s watching your worried face or because he’s wondering how he’s going to make that face look even more worried.

“I would feel sorry for you, but I suppose that’s what you deserve for touching my cunt without my permission.”

You gasp as he uses his grip on your hair to throw you on the bed. It’s effortless, the way his strength could so easily destroy you and yet he uses it to ruin destroy you in another way- just who you like it. Erwin undoes his tie and all you can do is gawk as he strips down to his boxers. He’s as hard as a rock and you tentatively reach out to touch him, but Erwin grabs your wrist. Without warning, you’re dragged to the other side of the bed where you’re placed to face your large floor length mirror. There’s only a moment of confusion before you understand why Erwin had been so keen on the somewhat awkward placement. He positions himself behind you and you withhold the urge to press your back against his throbbing cock.

“Don’t you take your eyes off the mirror,” Erwin commands, and you nod your head. “Use your words. Or do you need me to show you how to do that too?”

“Yes, sir,” You say quickly.

“Good girl.”

Erwin opens your legs, his hands gripping your thighs hard. You silently wish bruises bloom in their wake- it’s been too long since you’ve had your husband’s mark on you. A reminder of who you belong to. One hand stays on your thigh and the other moves to nudge your panties out of the way of your glistening cunt.

“I’m going to show you how to touch yourself,” He says in a low, rumbling voice. “And you’re going to watch closely and learn. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes sir.”

His fingers don’t tease your folds for long. Erwin is feeling merciful, because he simply gathers the slick coating your cut before immediately rubbing your clit. The moan that leaves your mouth is pornographic. You buck your hips but the hand on your thigh moves to pin you down, your body flush against his so that you can almost feel his bearing heart. You’re engulfed by him so small as he easily manipulates your body.

Erwin is overwhelmed by the options. Look at his wife unravel below him or stare at the mirror, where you have no place to hide.

“I should be punishing you, you know.” He presses his fingers down hard on a particularly tenter spot and you moan loudly. “But I need to show my dumb little girl how to take care of herself.”

“I-I’m not- ahhh.” Your back arches and Erwin captures your neck again, sucking viciously.

As his thumb continues its assault on your clit, two fingers find your tight hole, dripping and clenching around nothing. He can see in the mirror how your body is practically begging to be filled up. And fill you up he will. But first Erwin inserts a finger and groans at the warmth that greets him. He begins moving it and although you try to understand how he is able to stroke your cunt so perfectly, your mind is fogged and all that’s on your mind is your impending release. This should be a learning experience, but it serves only as a reminder of Erwin’s miraculous hands. He slips his second finger in and your moans only get lounder.

“Erwin, Erwin- they feel so good. Your fingers feel so good!”

You can see his smirk in his reflection, just before he speeds up and you have to grab his wrist to steady yourself. His fingers slam back and forth into your velvety walls. They suck them in, and he is able to find your sweet spot every time. Every single time. Your eyes roll back, you press against Erwin’s chest and your legs shake as you cum. The mess you make, leaking all over Erwin’s hands, your bed, your thighs- you try to look away, but he grabs your face to prevent you from doing so.

“Don’t you dare look away.” His voice is low, threatening. “Look how good I make you feel. Look.”

Your cheeks are flushed and the set that had made you look like a femme fatale, just hours before, is now yet another set that has has you pliant and submissive. “It seems that I’m the only one who can take care of you,” Erwin says. And you know he’s right.

Erwin lifts his soaked fingers to his mouth and his eyes flutter shut as he tastes you. When he opens them, you swear they’ve gone a shade darker. Wordlessly, Erwin slips from behind you to kneel in front of the bed. He removes your panties and holds them up to his nose, giving them a slight inhale before tossing them to the side and lowering his mouth.

“Erwin wai-“

And before you can warn him that your too sensitive- you orgasm was too strong, it’s too soon- his mouth has latched onto your cunt and Erwin is eating you out like a starved man.

“Ah-fuck, fuck, fuck,” You practically scream.

He sucks on your clit, his tongue doing what it does best. You look down, his eyes bore into yours and you know he’s remembering every expression you make as he pushes you over the edge. Despite your trembling arms struggling to keep you upright, your hand goes to grip Erwin’s hair and all you can think about is how soft it is before you cum again. Your husband doesn’t stop this time. His fingers dig into your soft hips to make sure you don’t move, to make sure that he catches everything on his tongue. And he can feel it before you do. The steady build-up of a feeling slightly familiar, but foreign enough that you warn Erwin too late. Your back arches and you squirt in his mouth and before your eyes roll back, you catch a glimpse of what you know to be a smirk in your husband’s eyes.

You can feel the sheets soak below you so try to press your legs together in somewhat of an attempt to hide the mess, but Erwin doesn’t let you. “Don’t be ashamed now, darling.” His voice is solid, domineering. “This is just you perfect body, doing exactly what I tell it to,” He says.

He could be talking about fruits and you would still nod your head dumbly.

The power Erwin has over you is addictive, and your body seems to know it too. As he kisses your thighs, licking off whatever didn’t find its way into his mouth, you can still feel a distant ache at your core. This time, you don’t need to use your words. As you lie weak on the bed, Erwin crawls over, engulfing your form. The lion is ready for his meal. He leans down to capture your lips in a gentle kiss. “I missed you,” He says. It’s the hundredth time, but you don’t tire of hearing it.

“I missed you too.”

Erwin shifts your legs, and you can feel the head of his large cock teasing your entrance.

“I missed all of you,” he repeats. “Your smile. Your voice. Your moans.” He pauses to place a kiss on your collarbone. “Your taste.”

He’s trying to be romantic, but you know why he stalls, and it makes you unable to graciously except the compliments. Erwin loves to hear you pine for him. And who are you to refuse your husband’s desires? So, you reach your hands out towards his shoulders, attempting to make him move if only a little bit. “Erwin!” You whine, and despite your weakness, you manage to push your hips forward, finding friction against his hard cock. “Please!”

Again, that smirk. He rubs against your clit. “My, my- you’ve come twice already and want more?”

Well, he missed your voice so you suppose you should let him hear it. “Let me be selfish, please sir?” You moan. “I need you inside of me.”

His cock twitches against you. And before you know it his hand is around your neck. “Such a good girl, using your words like that.”

He pushes inside you with a groan of relief, a low sound from his throat that causes his eyes to close momentarily.

It seems you’ve forgotten how big he is because as he stretches you out like it’s your first time, your mouth drops open and a string of curses emerges. Erwin would usually reprimand you for the foul language, but he’s too lost in the feeling of your tight cunt pulling him in. Using your neck as leverage, he squeezes tight so that he can push forward and when your eyes blur, overwhelmed with the pleasure and pain and the lack of oxygen intensifying it all, Erwin loosens his grip only slightly, and your eyes find his again. You don’t notice your mouth hanging open, too focussed on the way your body is accommodating Erwin’s cock again.

“Really big, ‘s really big, sir,” You mumble and Erwin grunts in response, his teeth clenching because he too is reminded yet again of how tight- how perfect- your body is for him.

When Erwin bottoms out, he stills for a moment, basking in your warmth and taking a moment to kiss your cheek, a gentle gesture compared to the hand still grasping your neck. Your cunt gushes despite you wincing about the pain, about his size, and soon he can’t help but move his hips. Erwin pulls back and thrusts deep. You scream him name, as you feel his cock dragging against your walls. Any idea of taking you gently has evaporated from Erwin’s brain and instead his hips snap back and forth violently, his tip kissing your cervix as he buries himself inside of you again and again.

His grunts are laboured as Erwin’s free hand pushes your leg up to your chest to allow him to thrust deeps and deeper. “Just like that- just like that, good girl. My good girl.”

The new angle has him brushing against your g-spot and you won’t last long. You know you can’t- not with him quite literally rearranging your insides. You have one hand clawing at his forearm and the other grips the sheets and you repeat a mantra of “Thank you, sir, thank you” in between your desperate moans. The honorific coming from your lips is too sweet to his ears and he’s reminded of why phone calls bother him so much- nothing compares to hearing your voice like this.

Erwin’s hand leaves your neck only to tug your bra down, letting your boobs bounce freely as he fucks you hard. You almost complain about the loss of contact but his tongue latches onto to your nipple and before you know it, you are coming all over your husband, screaming his name. Your nails dig into his arm as he nears his own release. Erwin’s hips stutter and he moans your name before throwing his head back in pure bliss as he cums inside of you. You wish you can capture that sight forever, but you don’t think any photo does your husband justice. It’s true- this is better than anything Hange could send.

Your breaths slowly find a slower rhythm in the post-orgasm silence. Erwin watches the way your fluids pool out of you as he pulls out, admiring the own mess on his lower stomach. You wince at the sore feeling and pull him towards you. This time, he follows your command. Breathless bodies mould into each other, finding their place after too long being apart. At the back of your mind, you know you should be making your way to the bathroom, but Erwin’s heavy body lying on your chest is enough to remind you to focus on the moment. For this is where you belong.

“You know, you should be flattered, Erwin.” You nudge his arm weakly as you lay together, bodies entangled in a random set of pyjamas you begrudgingly forced yourself to change into. “No one has better hands than you.”

He laughs. “I am flattered,” he says. “I just like teasing you.”

“No- you have a degradation kink.”

“Yes, that too.”

Even as you were taking a shower together, Erwin’s subtle attempts at having you admit you couldn’t make yourself cum did not go unnoticed. You suppose it’s an ego-thing, but then you realise it’s more. The power of being the only person able to bring you that much bliss is power Erwin thrives on. And despite the money wasted on your pink vibrator, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Still,” Erwin muses and a small smile plays across his lips. “I did expect the photo Hange took to at least help a little.”

Every muscle in your body stills and your eyes suddenly widen. Oh come on. You try to tell yourself that there’s simply nothing wrong with having a photo of your naked husband, but it’s more than that. You know it. Erwin knows it. And by the way he’s smiling, you also know that plastered on your face is the guiltiest of looks. In your poor attempt to escape his gaze by turning your back to him, Erwin chuckles and shakes his head, hugging you closer.

“That’s not fair!” You exclaim.

“It’s not?”

“No!”

You try to wiggle out of his grasp, but Erwin is made of steel. Why do you expect to get away with anything anymore? Erwin Smith is beyond two moves ahead- he’s finished the game before you’ve even started.

“Did you really think I didn’t notice?”

“Shut up!” You whine. “Why do you have to be such a smartass about it? Let me think I win.”

“Alright, alright.” Erwin chuckles and places a kiss on your forehead. “You’re my winner. Always.”

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