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hunn1e-bunn1e · 1 year ago

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Twst Handful - Strong, Understanding, Silly & Teasing Male Reader

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IT'S FINALLY DONE! The reader is described as muscular. The reader is implied to be tall. For Crewel; the reader is the art teacher. For everyone else but Vil; you are in their dorm. For Vil; you're related to Coach Vargas and are in an unspecified dorm. I hope this is what you wanted @kawaistrawberry21! —Benny🐰

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🦯 Ugh, you! He can't stand you! Nah, he's just kidding. He likes you just as much as the average coworker by day, lover by night would. Though, he must say, even if he loves you now, he certainly didn't before you both got together.

🦯 The first issue Crewel had was obviously your abhorrent taste in fashion (to him at least) that's what made him dislike you right off the bat. But as any good dog wrangler would say, he cannot judge a pup by its coat alone. So then, with much hesitancy, he got to know you and you hit it off from there.

🦯 Your silliness is... appreciated, to say the least. It's a great distraction for when he's feeling stressed with work. You always know how to make him smile with your little jokes and eccentric attitude. Don't misunderstand though, he values professionalism quite a bit and will tell you to straiten up when he feels that it's needed.

🦯 You want to tease him? Okay. Just be ready when he teases you in return; he was never one to hold back after all. But Crewel's teasing is never the mean spirited kind, that's reserved solely for Vargas. His teasing is sultry in nature, sure to leave you with glowing hot cheeks and swirling thoughts as you fumble for a come back.

🦯 A feature of yours he most definitely enjoys is your immense physical strength. He's surprised that you teach art and not physical education instead of Vargas. Loves watching your muscles flex when you lift things that would seem immovable by the average person's standards. It's not that he dislikes it, but warn him next time you want to pick him up! You're going to give him a heart attack.

🦯 Crewel is really thankful for how understanding you are. You're such a good listener and you give surprisingly wise advice when he goes to you with his problems. He'll let you lay on his lap in the teacher's lounge; stroking your hair as he rants about the misbehaving puppies he had during his last class.

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"You always know how to make me feel better when I'm down, don't you, Puppy. Such a gentleman you are. I suppose you deserve a treat for all your hard work, hm? Alright, here boy."

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🌹 Seven help him, you infuriate Riddle so much. Seriously! Even though you and Yuu helped him with his overblot he still finds you irritating. He doesn't hate you though, he sees you as a good— no, a great friend. A really annoying one, but he supposes that's what makes you yourself, unfortunately.

🌹 You're quite silly, he found that out even before his overblot and at that time he was annoyed by it. Couldn't you be serious for once? The Queen of Hearts's rules are nothing to joke about! But... after his overblot, he really learns to appreciate it. It was you after all who broke the tension in the infirmary when Yuu and the others came to see him; lightening the atmosphere to make room for pleasant conversation.

🌹 The teasing. By the seven, the teasing. Please... give poor Riddle a break, you're going to make him burst a blood vessel with how irritated he gets. Stop calling him short, he gets it already! Yes, his hair is red, now stop calling him the names of red fruit! His head is NOT shaped like an apple, dammit! He's glad if you stop after a while, because if you don't he might start losing hair and you might (read as: most definitely will) lose your magic.

🌹 Just because you're strong doesn't mean you're allowed to throw him over your shoulder like a sack of potatoes whenever you please! It's scary! It's like he's getting kidnapped or something! But your strength is appreciated sometimes. He definitely makes you carry around or move heavy items for him. Maybe the common room furniture needs to be rearranged again.

🌹 Riddle was quite literally moved to tears after you immediately forgave him for his behavior before and during his overblot. You didn't even let him finish telling you about his mother in the infirmary; you just hugged him tightly and said 'I forgive you. I don't need to know your past to understand that you regret your actions. People can change, Riddle.'. He cried. He sobbed. You have no idea how badly he needed to hear that.

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"Call me 'shortstack' one more time and it's off with your head, you hear me! And get your arm off my head! I am not an armrest for you to go and just lean onto, you— you miscreant!"

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🦁 He doesn't pay you too much mind. Your personality is comparable to Ruggie's, and he has no issues with the way Ruggie behaves and does things, so you're cool in his books. Just don't interrupt any of his naps like Ruggie does, or else.

🦁 A silly attitude is something he's used to interacting with giving his attendant and his neffew being the same way. Leona mostly tunes out any jokes you tell him unless they're about Malleus and the Diasomnia dorm, he finds those pretty funny. He likes when you tell him random made up stories as he falls asleep, they usually influence his dreams so he always asks for peaceful ones.

🦁 Oho? You? Teasing him? No, no, no, sweetheart. He's teasing you. Each and every time you attempt to tease him he flips it around on you and makes you a flustered mess. This man is absolutely ruthless with his teasing and won't let up until he's rendered you too embarrassed to even look him in the eye for the next few days. Maybe you should think twice about teasing him next time, yeah?

🦁 You're strong, are you? Say, you wouldn't mind doing Leona a morally questionable favor would you? If you think he wouldn't take advantage of your strength to further his chances of winning Magishift, you're sorely mistaken. But outside of of his schemes, he loves making you carry him to the greenhouse and his bedroom when he doesn't feel like walking.

🦁 One time, when the two of you were just relaxing alone in his room, he shared the details of his past to you. What he got in response was a 'Well, that explains alot.' as well as a tight hug. After that he tells you all about his insecurities and troubles and you just listen and nod. He's thankful for someone who understands him and makes him feel seen for the first time in a long time.

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"Hey Herbivore, you'd better carry me back to Savanaclaw. Consider it your punishment for stepping on my tail again. Shouldn't be a problem for you since you're so strong, right?"

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🍩 You and Ruggie get along pretty well. Sometimes you both meet in the Savanaclaw dorm kitchen and make a meal together or you help him prepare a meal for Leona. Speaking of the lion beastman, you both like to get together and gossip about him. Not in a malicious way of course, but Ruggie always has a full kettle and needs to spill the tea once in a while.

🍩 You're silliness is something he can mesh well with. The both of you are pretty similar in personality anyway, so you definitely get along. You both like to joke around about Leona being your son, with him being the mom and you being the dad. You definitely play pranks on the unsuspecting student body together like partners in crime.

🍩 Ruggie honestly finds your teasing nature to be a breath of fresh air. Being around a grouchy pessimistic person all the time really does a number on his mood after a while. You both partake in playfully teasing one another; never mean spirited and rarely suggestive. You and Ruggie are just here to have fun, why spoil the mood with negativity; that's why Leona's never invited when you guys hang out.

🍩 By the seven, are you strong! Here, carry this; and this; oh, this too. Would you be so kind as to drag Leona to class? Thanks a bunch! To say that he's living for your strength would be an understatement; everything is so much easier now that he can get you to help him. Now hold still and let him get on your shoulders so he can dust the ceiling.

🍩 Dang it stop being so good to him! You're making Ruggie feel bad for injuring all those students! He vents to you about how bad he feels about hurting everyone even if Leona told him to do it. After you express that you don't fault him for following through Leona's orders because he's in no position to refuse, Ruggie jumps on you and damn near sqeezes you to death in a hug.

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"Huh, 'Mister Mom'? My son? I don't got a kid yet, 'm still in school, man. —Oh! Pfft! Shyeehyehehe! Are ya callin' Leona a kid! Awe man, that's friggin' hilarious. I guess I am 'Mister Mom', huh."

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🪞 You... remind him of Coach Vargas for some reason. That's not a good thing. His eyes are burning, please Stop flexing like that, you look like you're constipated. And please, PLEASE for the love of the seven shave your chest hair, he visibly cringes every time your shirt is open. Vil thinks you're very handsome and could do very well in Pomfiore but it's overshadowed by your agregious lack of tact.

🪞 He's well versed in all sorts of mannerisms, so you being silly isn't a shock to him in the slightest. 100% will he try an make you be more serious in situations that can effect his public image, so be prepared for that. Even though he tries not to smile too hard to avoid developing smile creases, you always make him laugh. Stop that! Stop making him so happy, you scoundrel!

🪞 Vil does not like your teasing nature. Whether it be his name, actions or appearance you're teasing him about, he can't stand it. He's already insecure as it is and here you are 'teasing' him as you call it. The only indication of how bothered he is by it is a sharp glare that's usually too fast for you to catch. Seriously, don't tease Vil; friend or not, you'll most likely end up with ipecac in your tea. Don't push your luck.

🪞 Your strength is nothing to scoff at; he had found. He thought your muscular physique was very easy on the eyes and often tries to squeeze you into a corset to slim your waist down more. In his words: 'Muscular men with small waists are quite a sought after figure'. He'll have you model with him often in position that has you lifting himself and another model or a heavy product that he's advertising.

🪞 Vil appreciates how good of a listener you are. He'll often come to you and talk about how he thinks his dorm members hate him. How he feels a little bad for pushing them so hard. Vil vents about how, one time, Epel had accused him of trying to erase his personality. You only rubbed circles on the small of his back and encouraged him to keep talking. He felt bad... but it didn't stop him from carrying on to do it all over again the next day.

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"Alright, my Chivalrous Sweet Potato, you know what to do. I simply can't dirty my shoes, so you'll have to use that strength of yours to carry me over all of this awful mud, understand?"

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🏹 Oh, Rook just LOVES you! You bring him so much joy. Though he comes off strange considering the whole hunting you thing, he really means well. He considers the two of you to be the best of friends; connected at the hip, partners in crime, two peas in a pod and so on. Truly you and Rook have the most beautiful, albeit somewhat one sided, friendship.

🏹 He finds your silliness quite admirable and finds similarities between you and Epel pretty often. You make him laugh pretty often when you make jokes about beauty or even the art of hunting. Often times he sits down with you to write silly poems together and read them out loud to each other, or have Vil and Epel unwillingly sit in as the audience. Please release them, they're suffering.

🏹 He loves when you tease him and he loves to tease you back. Rook plays pranks on you pretty often as well. Suddenly appearing behind you, hiding in your bedroom and jumping out to scare you when you get comfortable, shooting an arrow with a bag of glitter tied to it just above your head; you know, the usual. Ah yes, Rook loves a good prank.

🏹 Pilier de force; pillar of strength. That is the nickname he gave you after you picked him up with one hand, like he weighed nothing. Oh, how he swooned in that moment. What a heart throb you are, swooping in and cradling this humble huntsman in your arms. He's definitely suggested you taking up archery on many occasions, you certainly have the upper body strength to pull a bow string properly.

🏹 You have what Rook calls an insightful heart. One full of untainted, unshakable love, compassion and forgiveness. He believes that in a previous life you must have been an angel of some kind with how beautiful you are. Rook has even said your more fair than Vil in his eyes because of your beautiful and noble heart.

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"Oh, mon Pilier de Force. Your compassion knows no bounds. Your heart is pure as the first snow of autumn. One cannot help but to swoon at such a loving disposition, monsieur."

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🍎 Epel thinks you're pretty cool! No— badass is a better descriptor. You two are best friends! Or at least, he wants to be your best friend. The both of you had never even conversed before he literally ran into you in the halls; he was just too shy to approach you. But then you helped Epel up and introduced yourself and you hit it off from there.

🍎 At first he thought you were going to turn out to be another creep like Rook. However, he was pleasantly surprised by the lack of weirdness. No stalking, no appearing out of nowhere, no breaking into his bedroom. You were just a bit af a goof and by the seven did that have him relieved. You supply him with a great outlet to let all the stress of being in Pomfiore melt away just by being around him.

🍎 Epel is okay with your teasing so long as you don't mention his appearance being feminine in any way since he's pretty insure about it. He can take a joke about his height pretty well but he'll climb on you in retaliation, so be prepared for that. He also loves pranks! Epel will even get Rook to join in if he can.

🍎 Your so cool! How are you that strong! Teach him! Teach him! Please, teach him your ways! If he's as strong and muscular as you he'll be manly for sure! Here, lift this bookshelf right here. Yeah, it has books on it still but that'll make it even cooler when you lift it. Ah! No! Don't pick him up! He'll bite you, he swears on it!

🍎 You're such a good listener; has anyone ever told you that. Epel is surprised that he feels comfortable enough to confide in you about his insecurities. How he feels about his appearance and how he feels about the way Vil treats him. And by the time he's finally got everything thing off his chest, Epel cries into your shoulder as you simply pat his back and tell him to let it all out. You never chastise him for not acting masculine enough; in fact, you never bring his appearance up at all.

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"Woah! That's so cool! How can ya even lift that much weight? D'ya think I can lift that too? Ya gotta teach me how! I know yer gonna be the best teacher f'me, so let's get started!"

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🐲 Are you talking... to him? Are you sure, you do know who he is right? You know, Malleus Draconia, scary dragon fae, immensely powerful mage, Diasomnia's prefect and heir to the Valley of Thorns's throne? Oh. You really are taking to him! And you're not scared of him? This must be some kind of blessing from his grandmother, right? No, it doesn't matter, he's thankful either way.

🐲 He doesn't mind your silliness, it's such a nice change from the near constant fear that's directed towards him whenever he goes somewhere that's not Diasomnia. You make him so happy he can't even put it into words. When he's with you he's sporting a constant toothy grin because that's just how powerful of an effect you have on him. Please keep goofing off with him, his heart wouldn't be able to take it if you got bored of him.

🐲 You remind Malleus so much of Lilia when you tease him. Perhaps he should introduce the two of you! He knows that you never do it in a malicious way; it's just for fun. Malleus definitely indulges himself in teasing you back. For him it's playful banter between soul mates.

🐲 Oh dear, you've got quite the strength in you, haven't you, Child of Man. Perhaps, only if you wanted to, you could be trained to wield a sword and join his guards? Though, you don't have to, it's only a suggestion. When you scooped him up in your arms one time like he's as light as a feather? Oh he's over the moon with joy that you're even near him, let alone sweeping him off his feet.

🐲 Malleus finds it really endearing that you listen to his trivial issues. You must be bored of his voice by now with how much you've allowed him to drone on and on. He's not even speaking of his troubles anymore, he's telling you about what his day entailed. Surely, Malleus always finds himself wondering, you must have things to share as well. Please share your troubles with him as well! He wants to be a supportive friend like you!

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"I never thought it would be quite so relieving to confide in someone other than Lilia about my present worries. So I must thank you, child of man, for lending an ear to me in my time of need."

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🦇 You two get along like white on rice! Seriously! You and Lilia are nearly inseparable! Except that one time he rendered you bedridden with one of his culinary abominations; you were out of it for almost a week. Lilia felt kind of bad of course but the face you made kept him laughing the entire time you were ill.

🦇 The two of you are the silliest people in Diasomnia, it seems. Not that he minds of course; having you around will help him on his mission to get Malleus and Sebek loosen up a bit. It's healthy to be a goof every now and then, it just so happens that you're like that nearly all the time.

🦇 You'll rarely succeed in teasing Lilia. You can rarely catch him off guard or fluster him. Even your pranks are unsuccessful most of the time. But don't give up yet! It really amuses him to see you so passionate about getting one over on him. Lilia prefers to tease you instead, it really makes his day. He'll also insist on playing pranks on other together rather than alone, it's just much more fun that way. The few times that you can tease him, it's the funniest thing he's ever experienced to be honest.

🦇 Well, aren't you strong. He may offer to train you with a sword like he did with Silver and Sebek. Whether you want to train to be one of Malleus's vassals is up to you, but he did offer.. You've got physical strength, yes. And you might be able to be him in an arm wrestling competition. But! Can you defeat him in this new video game that the youngsters say are all the rage? He's serious. Can you beat him?

🦇 You're quite compassionate, aren't you. How sweet. Lilia often finds himself coming to you and talking about his concerns with his three children. He's thankful that you hold no ill will towards Malleus and Sebek because of how they come off. Though he rarely does it, Lilia sometimes tells you about his experiences in the war. Sometimes he'll be reduced to tears from the haunting memories of his fellow fae being slain, but you just hold him tight and let him cry. Lilia's thankful for that.

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"I know I assured you that I'm far older than my looks my lead on... But ... baby faced grandpa. Pfft- that's— Wait! I still want you to elaborate what you meant when you said all my past lovers 'dodged a case'!"

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Wanna see similar content? Check out my Masterlist!

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yael-art-den · 13 days ago

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Galahad (Right) and Rey (Left). More info about their whole deal after the cut

These guys are some of my oldest OC couples at around 8 years old (that I still use), and Galahad has changed quite a bit but Rey was already perfect. Backstory:

They both come from a setting in which I never bothered really giving names as I was more focused on the characters. so we'll call the place Galahad is from "The Empire" and Rey's "The Kingdom". Names are not relevant rn.

We have Galahad, an orphan Ifrit that REALLY gets into magic because he sucks at anything physical and it was the only way for him to pursue higher education. Ends up in a magical-military career as a way to keep climbing the social ladder and because they are the only people who will fund his research into stable, 24/7 open portal magic.

He REALLY gets into politics because those two things are joined at the hip and he was always a nosy bitch that never stays still when there is an opportunity to improve his current position. He doesn't do it out of malice but because he fears that at ANY time the rug will be pulled under him and he'll be back at square one poor as a rat and he needs to feel in control of his life. He starts having secret hookups with people WAY above his station.

Context notes: The Empire™ it's very very conservative. They can still charge you with indecency if you're a sodomite, ESPECIALLY if you're a public figure. That of course doesn't stop gay sex from happening anyway but someone has to be the escapegoat when a scandal happens

Exactly the thing above happens. One of the dudes in the council gets called out for exactly that and he throws Galahad under the bus. One accusation gets piled one after the other and his lovers jump ship before the finger can be pointed at them too. His public image is in shambles but he actually gets charged with Treason (because airing publicly who he hooked up with would be BAD and he probably got those corrupting ideas from the barbaric Kingdom anyway)

Galahad bites the bullet and goes into exile before anyone can try to murder him before the trial, thus "confirming" the fact that he is, in fact, a traitor. He was always ready for this though, so he takes all of the portal research with him.

Now he's bitter, heartbroken, and completely alone in enemy territory. He's not the kind of person that just lets life happens to him, so he goes right back at work again. Unfortunately he discovers that working on Seals and Sigils at -20°C in the middle of the artic tundra is Not Easy and needs to get a real job there.

Now, for Rey and The Kingdom©. Whereas Galahad is a normal dude with a congenital condition (albinism), Rey is the result of literal dragon eugenics. He doesn't have a name (Rey is short for Rey de la Ventisca, his title) and, in their culture, there is no word or space for princes. For the royal lineage, you either are the King or you aren't; and if you Aren't, you better challenge the current one to a fight to the death. Cold spares no one, you have to be THE strongest, flawless, perfect execution of the divine vessel you were born to incarnate.

Rey is just his title, as meaning "rulling above all else" but it's actually a theocracy. His religion believes the holy power of dragons and Frost Dragons are the only kind that will live most of their life in "humanoid", lesser shapes, as their true form is reserved to very particular events (I.E: coronations) or religious military conquests.

Rey, despite his power and attitude, is not really a person, and never tried to be. He is THE King, that's all he needs to be. Until Galahad comes around, there was no difference in his mind between himself, the last or the next King.

The Kingdom is not more "open" politically, it's just different in how it handles them altogether. It's a GIVEN that the King Will eventually have an heir who will murder him and take the throne, so who cares if he's sucking dick in the meantime. Rey makes or breaks every single societal rule he wants by virtue of Being, and that becomes what now Is. It's almost open knowledge that the King favors men, so now it's just What Kings Do.

He has the biggest hoard in the whole setting, and despite that, he doesn't really... owns anything. It's the King's. He protects the Kingdom, its treasure, and his title, and does so HAPPILY but it's not until he starts viewing himself as an individual that he starts WANTING things. When Galahad eventually tells him that he wants to belong to him, he puts emphasis on that last part. He wouldn't want to be with the last king, or the next one, he wants Him. Galahad doesn't think he's an empty vessel because everything that he loves lives there.

Unfortunately, having wants and needs comes with the fact that you WILL have to confront the fact that you really don't want to have heirs and want to marry your consort and your whole world vision will come crumbling down on you because if you're not able to truly be King then you must be Something Else and that just Does Not Compute

Whoops someone murdered the twink. Holy war

#i wrote all on mobile sorry if its a mess #rey did not do the last thing btw. someone else did because of another big mess that was going on Somewhere Else #and they needed to start a war. so. twink obliterated #I'll write a post in detail about how they met and their relationship later. its getting long #oc: rey #own art #dragon oc #original characters #original character #original art #sketch #dnd

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halosdiary · 1 year ago

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Ryomen Sukuna x Reader Anime: Jujustu Kaisen Word Length: 1.1k CONTAINS: Manipulation, NONCON, Phycological abuse

"So many ideas, so little time."

This is a whole new world for you, you were in an unfamiliar place, surrounded by unfamiliar people. Everything was so grim and gritty, this was something you'd have to get use to.

How could such a sweet boy, be a vessel to something so disgusting, unruly and monstrous? You look at the boy you once called a friend with fear and disgust. You didn't have a archive, you had to get use to him.

You loved Itadori, you want what's best for him. But his "friend", his friend was a completely different story. You could feel him grab your wrist. You hissed and tried going for a strike on his cheek to snap him out.

Unfortunately, the demon looked at you in the eyes as he caught your other hand. He just smiled, wickedly.

"You poor thing, you." He taunted.

"You should know by know. We're a surprise. Deal with him, deal with me. Simple as that."

You wanted to back away. You wanted to, but for some reason you couldn't move. It was like he had a string to you. Teasing you, indirectly making you feel like you're choking. Yanking you, trying to pull you closer to him by force. He beckoned you to come to him, and with that you started walking, but not on your free will.

The closer you got to him, the wider his smile was. Your look of fear, you practically begging him to let you go was giving him such a delightful time.

The curse squeezed his own hand and at an instant you passed out, and fell to the floor. Your body feel numb, but at the same time it felt like it was being used, tossed around, violated.

You could hear faint screaming, they sounded panicked, angry and even remorseful. You still couldn't open your eyes, but you could feel your body be lifted up. And taken away.

"Are they going to be okay?" A voice wa lingering in your head. It felt familiar, but you couldn't put your finger on it.

"We need to let them rest. You can talk to them later on."

"Hey, has anyone seen...Y̶̨͌ȕ̸̡j̷̡̑i̷͙̐?̵͙̚"

"Y̶̨͌ȕ̸̡j̷̡̑i̷͙̐?̵͙̚ I haven't seen him for days now. He just brought back [Y/N] here and he just left."

Everything was pitch black. But you were coming to, you could somewhat if yourself wake back up.

Y̶̨͌ȕ̸̡j̷̡̑i̷͙̐?̵͙̚ Y̶̨͌ȕ̸̡j̷̡̑i̷͙̐?̵͙̚

Why was that name so fuzzy to you? My eyes were starting to part open and you looked around the brightness of the room. You slowly sat up, and suddenly felt a sharp pain down your lower body. You winced and groaned from the pain. You felt a warm liquid drip down from you. Your heart was beating very fast and you rip the blankets from under you.

You were bleeding.

It was almost as if..someone was there before.

You didn't want to believe that, that had happened to you. All you can remember was that you and a friend were hanging out, but you noticed he was acting weird, like he was fighting off something or someone. You then heard a bellowing chuckle, it startled you. You looked around to see who was making the noise. You didn't see anyone.

You assumed you were hearing things since you just woke up. Your body was in no way to move at the moment, but you did not want to stay in bed all day. So you tried again and stood out of bed for a few second before having to hold onto something for support. You struggled a bit just to the bathroom. As soon as you made, you heard the laughter again.

You glared and look around, nothing. You sighed and limped over to the mirror.

"You felt so great. At some point, I'm just going to keep using you until you break completely."

You gasped as you feel a part of your skin split apart and a mouth was formed. It was talking to you. HE was talking to you. You backed away in horror, only to be met with a sharp pain from down below.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?!" You screamed at the mysterious mouth.

"The real question is, what did YOU do?" It spoke once more. "The boy hasn't been himself as of lately. Wonder why?"

"D-did you have something to do with this?" You stared at the mirror as you see that hideous thing form a smirk. "Who the hell even are you."

"...Ryomen Sukuna." He spoke in a menacing tone. "And you're my newest toy."

"Like hell I am!" You protested.

You wanted to move again but you couldn't. It was like he said you were his newest toy. The curse wasn't going to let you go away easy like that. With all this new knowledge you were trying to process, you were starting to put two and two together. Your eyes widened at the sudden shock, and you lied your hands on the counter of the bathroom. The mixture of what looked like semen and blood trailikg down your legs and then you could heat the cursed mouth just laugh at you.You could feel tears starting to well up.

He violated you. You knew something wasn't right about your best friend. Why he was so distant, so withdrawn, very hesitant. Oh Yuji. If only you were here. Droplets of tears were falling from your cheek. All the curse could do was laugh at how broken your spirit was.

"..Where's Yuji?" You asked.

"Hmm? The Itadori brat? He's gone." Sukuna bluntly stated.

A hand covered your mouth, you couldn't help but cry to yourself. You then could hear Sukuna's tongue click.

"He's still here. He's a broken spirit." Sukuna boasted. "Couldn't save the one person he wanted, and now that I've marked you he won't talk or come out."

"Dear God, was this..was this my fault?" You asked yourself through your sobs and tears.

"Oh most definitely." The mouth answered for you. "You're absolutely the most worst thing to ever happen to him. All he ever did was talk about you. It was disgusting."

The irises in your eyes were shaking from processing all of this. You balled your hands up in a fist. You were being berated and even gaslit into thinking this was your fault. You were angry, in pain and you just wanted your favorite best friend back. The fact that this was what Yuji had to deal with. Sukuna continued to berate you, but all you did was shut down and back away from the mirror as you couldn't even feel the atmosphere engulf you into the darkness.

#jujutsu kaisen #sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #halo's writings

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lesbiamano · 10 months ago

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AN INTRODUCTION TO "The Loving River", AKA Nazya's story!!

this story takes place in a historic setting in iraq, no specific years (for now) so everything here is subject to some change in the future.

this post is just an introduction to the main stuff and characters in the story! (all under cut, and fair warning, its a lot)

Shanya Al-Malaika:

shanya is a 29 year old poet, going by the pen name "Ta'abata Sharan" and taking on the image of a man so she can comfortably write about her love for nazik, and to be taken more seriously in the world of poetry. she is the mortal daughter of the goddess shaahida, also referred to as "The Witness", and ill be explaining more about her and her lore later.

to make a long story short, shaahida never wanted a child, and so shanya's coming into the world was a complete accident, and to shaahida, a shameful mistake. with that, she sends off newborn shanya to live with her aunt, saabira, another goddess, this one referred to as "Patience". saabira had a mortal husband and five mortal children with him, so the choice to send shanya there was easy. shaahida was sure saabira, with all her patience and knowledge of children, would be able to take care of shanya better than shaahida ever could. but of course, if she was going to give away shanya like this, shed have to gain something out of it too. she slashed baby shanya across the mouth with her divine nails, drawing blood, and leaving a scar. a tie between them both, stronger than their familial connection. wherever shanya was, shaahida would be able to keep watch, and when the time comes, shaahida would be able to use shanya as the vessel for her plan (which i'll discuss later,, maybe.)

shanya lives with saabira's family for most of her life in dhi qar, where she meets nazik, a girl around her age, and eventually, falls for her. the two are worlds apart though, for while saabira prefers to live humble and poor despite her divinity, making shanya live as a young sheep herder, nazik came from a wealthy family. middle upper class, to be exact. one day, however, nazik leaves dhi qar suddenly, and without much explanation, leaving shanya all alone. what made it all worse was this coming directly after a major fight/argument between the two. (this is insanely simplified, for a lot of stuff happens between them here.)

shanya continues to live with saabira, until the age of 16. when one day, as she on the carriage of saabira's oldest son, shaheen, she began to tinker with the oud guitar he always had with him. she strummed a few notes and smiled to herself, preparing to play a small tune. the carriage soon hit a bump, and the oud, with all its heaviness, slipped out of shanyas hands and fell off the carriage, tumbling down into the nearby river, and breaking. shaheen went off the rails at this, screaming at shanya about how expensive the oud was, and going as far as slap her and push her out of the carriage, telling her to walk home instead. its then, when shes trying to walk home, in the most vaguest in terms, she ends up dying. very unfortunate, and a horrible look for shaheen.

shaahida oversaw all of this. she was angered, not as a mother would be for a daughter, but a creator to a vessel. she transforms her own body to shanyas likeness, and makes it, in a way, a vessel for shanyas spirit to reside in for the time being. making daughter and mother, one and the same.

after saabira realizes what had happened, shanya's death, shaahida's work, she is frightened, and she does not tell shanya of what had truly happened to her. instead she grabs her and takes her towards kirkuk, where hashim, her uncle, and saabira and shaahidas brother, resides. hashim the god, also referred to as "The Punisher". after learning of what had happened to shanya, hashim takes her in, almost like his own daughter, and he is the one who teaches her of poetry and art and whatnot.

it is also hashim who sends 29 year old shanya out of kirkuk and to baghdad, along with her cousins, the twins jamil and jameela (also saabira's children), to gain more knowledge and more inspiration after she finds herself in a writing block. and that is where shanya meets nazik again after so long, which kickstarts the main story.

Nazik Al-Khafaji:

nazik is the 30 year old eldest daughter to jasim al-khafaji and his university sweetheart, nadeen. young nazik worked in a library with her mother until she was 14, before becoming a 'healer' or a doctor later into her adulthood. she has a younger brother, azra, only 4 years younger. nazik's mother had been a worshipper of saabira, one of the saabiroon, and as such, nazik aligned herself with that sect of worship too. and when push comes to shove, as an adult, nazik realizes she had been blessed by saabira with the power of healing. specifically, healing people with her own blood, something she couldve used much, much earlier.

jasim's family was quite a rich one, and yet, he distanced himself from them and went against his own family's wishes by marrying nadeen, and as such he did not inherit much of their wealth at all, and all the wealth naziks family did have came entirely from his own hard work and businesses in gold selling and jewelry making. nazik's family was originally from baghdad, however after jasim's falling out with his family, they packed their bags and moved to dhi qar when nazik was 6 and azra was 2, which is, of course, where nazik met shanya.

nazik quickly found herself enjoying shanya's company, and even introducing shanya to her brother, for a chance to get the girl to step out of her shell and meet new people, for nazik had noticed how lonely shanya seemed to be, with how all of her cousins were decades upon decades older than her, and having no free time to spend with her at all. nazik found herself skipping many of her classes to be with shanya, almost getting caught by her father many times, but she simply could not get away from her. in her free time she brought shanya books to read with her, though most of the time she sat by and listened to shanya play the oud, yes, the one she often borrowed from shaheen. nazik hadnt realized it, but she had fallen for shanya, hard and deep. one day, after returning home later than she should, after spending a night with shanya, she came back to find her mother dead. nadeen had been sick for years now, but nobody had expected her to die so suddenly. naziks life changed overnight. in the morning, she went to visit shanya one last time, a meeting which resulted in a huge useless argument, before nazik ran off, going home to finish her packing. that night, her, her brother, and her father took a carriage all the way to baghdad. she left shanya with no last goodbye, no last hug, and that is her one regret, though she does not blame herself.

jasim never quite made up with his family, his parents however begrudgingly gave him an estate to own in baghdad, which they settled in. as an adult, nazik was practically the only one working in the house. jasim had given up on life and on fatherhood after nadeen's death, forcing nazik to mother her own brother, and to grow up faster than she shouldve. and while jasim was useless, azra picked up traveling as a hobby, untied and free of all burdens, he was almost never home, and always off doing his own thing outside of iraq, leaving nazik to labor on her own, completely oblivious to the exhaustion she was facing, for she hid it all from him.

nazik, of course, has her own set of people in baghdad, and one of them was a pen pal, jameela, who she did not recognize as shanyas cousin, and whom she had urged to come to baghdad to meet. jameela had of course come to baghdad with her twin brother jamil and her cousin shanya. however, shanya and nazik would not stumble upon eachother until much, much later after shanyas coming to baghdad.

Shaahida (Al-Malaika):

shaahida, the witness, was the second born goddess from "The Creator", coming only after her eldest sister, huda, "The Gift". sources speculate she was born from The Creator's left eye, to bear witness over humanity, and to help her brother, hashim, the punisher, who was born right behind her, in trials, so he may adequately punish both mortals and their divine siblings alike.

of course it must be explained that The Creator is the one true god of the universe, having created it all with humans and all. in their divine eternalness, they split themselves into 99 different pieces, and the one last 100th piece would be created when all 99 pieces set aside their differences and finish their business on earth, and come together to create a new "creator". which is to say, the 99 lesser gods created were much weaker in comparison to The Creator, having a limited set of skills, and being very close to human like with their feuds and problems and personalities. some say there is no way all 99 of them would ever come together to become whole again, for each of them held such wildly different ideologies, and often butted heads with eachother. sometimes mortals wonder if they truly did come from one beings.

each god has their own set of followers that follow certain rules for worship. some gods have easier rules than others, some want all the worship, some want none. while, worshipping one god means you believe in the existence of the 98 remaining, it does not necessarily mean you believe in their coming together again to be one, and it does not mean you believe in them coming from one being. those beliefs depend on the individual and the family they hail from. there is however another religion made from these using all these factors (believing in all gods, their coming from one being and their eventual unity) called "Istiqbal", in the way that its followers await the future for the 'inevitable' unity of these gods.

that being said, shaahida was never one to love her job. as the witness for the punisher, she did not last long. she kept it up merely 3 millennia before giving it up, opting to wander the world meaninglessly for a few couple of centuries, before settling in a temple and watching people worship at her feet all day. along the way, she found herself obsessing with a mortal girl, a girl named batool, and a worshipper of hers. she possessive as much as she was obsessive, and batool did not by any means hate the attention. until one day, when she revealed to shaahida that was to get married to a man soon. of course, that angered shaahida greatly, and with her anger came eyes on them, and the public soon found out about their situation. it was not homosexuality itself that was forbidden, but the act of mingling with mortals at the time was. hashim came, with his divine punishment, and stoned them, though whether he truly wanted to or not was debated. some even said he had someone else come and punish them in his stead. shaahida was hung up and stoned for a whole year, before her mortal lover which of course died before her. after her punishment, shaahidas reputation was tainted forever. humans misunderstood the punishment, thinking it for homosexuality, and quickly forbid it. which, in turn, made shaahida a symbol for homosexuality, and specifically, lesbian love. she would gain a few followers for this, though not many, and all worshipped her in secret. for the next few centuries or millennia, shaahida wandered aimlessly amongst the earth in a disguise, though she did not dare get close to any mortal during that time.

until one day, it suddenly became allowed to get with mortals. a lot of time had passed, and most of her siblings had slowly but surely been becoming more lax on many things. it was frustrating, to think that if her and batool's love was delayed a few mere centuries, it wouldve blossomed to fruition.

shaahida let herself out again, and began to mingle once more with the mortals. she met a writer one day, a man who calls himself abd al sahib. without knowing of her divinity, he spoke to her of his want to write a book about the witness. she smiled, thinking it was flattering. the two got closer, though she did not love him in the way she loved batool, nor in the way lovers loved eachother. he however, was obviously in love and head over heels. and he was not stupid, he soon learned of her divinity and her being the subject of his book, which only made him get closer to her. a series of events unfolds, many that were out of shaahidas control, and she finds herself bearing a child, a mortal child, shanya. for the first few months she had not truly processed it, until one day abd al sahib pointed it out, grinning with pride at the fact that he had impregnated her. her actions next had been a long time coming, she had enough. she killed abd al sahib, which, of course, was a sin. for gods could not murder their subjects and humans in general. it was fine however, for she hid all the clues. and when she brought shanya into the world, she was disgusted. not specifically by shanya, but the events that led up to her birth.

she sends shanya away and goes into hiding, hoping hashim would not find this out.

she loses herself completely in this loneliness and new found hopelessness she has dug herself into, and thinks the only way to get out of it and to be free is to simply become the new creator, to end the world prematurely. and maybe shanya was simply a tool given to her by the world to achieve this.

with that, her loneliness is broken only slightly, and only briefly by her meeting a new woman. nadeen. they got close over a short period of time in baghdad, before shaahida realized nadeen was already married, and already had a few month old daughter. it was shortly after this realization did nadeen leave for dhi qar with her husband and daughter, and shaahida never had much of a chance to see her again. and there she returns to solitude.

and thats all for now! this is barely even half of the story, but again, its just intros, and it's already so long so i dont want to add more. i know not many will read all of this anyway so ive only written this for myself so its easier for me to see the info of my own story here. anyway! heres some art for the characters mentioned!

nadeen (left) and batool (right)! this is all i have for now! if youve made it this far, tysm for reading!

#ocs #oc posting #Nazik Al-Khafaji #Shanya Al-Malaika #nazya #yes im giving them their own tags to make stuff easier for me lol #will be adding onto this post whenever i have new stuff or art #insanity #sorry for this being so long i did not mean to write this much ermmmm #if anyone even reads a quarter of this ill be impressed #if some things dont make sense srry i wrote this while sleep deprived #any asks/questions abt the story is very welcome!!!

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macawritesupdates · 8 months ago

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Ohh nice a new prompt chapter and it's a continuation of one I really liked yay! Damn poor Yuuji he's uhh got a surprise on the way huh. I wonder if Sukuna would be able to hear the baby's heartbeat and feel it when the little guy kicks since he's also in Yuuji's body at the moment. I'm guessing Yuuji didn't tell Shoko what happened because if he did she'd probably have figured out what was going on. Yuuji baby you should maybe not repress the incident so much that you forget the things Sukuna said about mating bud there's probably a prince on the way or maybe a princess we have no way of knowing for sure unless you go get some medical care but ya can't do that without acknowledging what happened. I'm glad Sukuna decided to be helpful even if it was clearly no trouble at all for him. Yuuji deserves all the cuddles and comfort sweet little thing. It's not my prompt but I have an idea for a continuation if you're interested. When Yuuji finally realizes what's going on he panics a bit for all the obvious pregnancy related reasons but also because he knows the jujitsu elders want him dead just for being Sukuna's vessel and it scares him to think what they might do to Sukuna's actual child. Since he's afraid he doesn't tell the adults and instead asks the other students for help. Nobara and Megumi and their senpais all help him hide the pregnancy and get medical care in secret. Maybe the older students even take turns sneaking out to accompany him on missions so he doesn't have to fight while pregnant, they're a bit tired from the extra work but damn it they're not abandoning their pregnant friend. Sukuna sees all this and decides to be helpful too by manifesting to give the senpais a break protecting Yuuji. Unfortunately Sukuna starts to miss being able to be super close to the baby because he can't feel it when he's out so he starts getting super super clingy with Yuuji. He's always close and holding him or touching the baby bump and gets jealous whenever Yuuji lets someone else feel his belly when the baby is kicking or something. (For possible bonus angst Yuuji could be planning to give the baby up for adoption not because he doesn't want it but because he's worried that he won't be able to protect it and wants it to be able to live a normal healthy life away from jujitsu sorcery. Sukuna is super against that idea.) (Or for slightly less angst one of the girl students could offer to pretend the baby was theirs once it was born so the elders wouldn't have any reason to want it dead and Yuuji could still see it every day.) Anyway lovely chapter thanks for writing!!

Been a lot of requests for a part three, so probably going to use some of these ideas in that one for sure hehe! Poor Yuuji has no idea what is coming and he going to have a minor bit of panic 83 Thank you for the comment and ideas for the sequel!

#maca answers asks #this was a popular prompt idea lol!#I was surprised by that c:

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wardencommanderrodimiss · 2 years ago

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I have been trying to shape this into a full, coherent narrative for a little while, but a lot of the connective tissue is missing, like how they actually get the twins ferried over to Jugdral. Which, the answers might be "Byleth hits up Yuri to get someone to fake birth certificates" or "the house leaders apply Money and Rich Family Connections to the problem to get a no-questions-asked flight to Belhalla" because that is just a way that these plots can end. Fundamentally, there are a lot of Rich Kids in this AU, and they can just solve some of these problems the way Rich Kids do.

The other big piece I've not figured out was "what does Manfroy do when he finds out the babies are missing, what does Thales do, do they stir up more shit and cause issues to splash back on the main cast". Like Manfroy could just panic and try to kidnap Deirdre and then figure out the details later. Thales might know that Edelgard and Dimitri have to be caught up in this. I haven't decided how much I want to put the main cast do; I kinda wanna cut Deirdre a break, because the poor woman goes through enough in canon and I don't need to put her through a kidnapping, but on the other hand, that gives Validar something to do to cause problems - send in Aversa with a baseball bat to un-kidnap a woman, and that's a funny concept. There's lots of ways the story can splinter after the initial "we stole two babies" part and I’ve had trouble deciding what I want to do with it!

Anyway that’s absolutely hysterical that Jedah is just. carrying on with whatever crimes he’s committing, totally unaware of the slapfight happening between the other three axis of the Cult Gang. He finds out months later that Manfroy had and lost A Potential Vessel For Their God and Manfroy blames Thales and Thales blames Validar and frankly, Jedah still doesn’t quite understand how Validar actually played into this.

They got some of Arvis' blood too, just by telling him “hey give us some blood or we’ll let people find out about your bloodline secret :)”, and he's dead enough inside that he's like, whatever, here, take it, they’re not actually going to be able to do anything with a bit of my blood and hair. And unfortunately for him he does not know that Manfroy knows Thales and Thales has the resources for Incredibly Unethical Science.

That’s incredibly funny, the idea that Thales could like, try to make a legal claim. I’d like to think he tries to make a claim on some sort of Intellectual Property Patent Law kinda grounds, and everyone else goes “THAT IS A HUMAN PERSON”

Robin hits Arvis with it as soon as she knows for sure, which is probably 3 am local time, and Arvis only gave her his number acting under the assumption that she would never ever call him because of international fees, and he answers the phone ready to demand what the fuck is going on and he barely gets one word out before Robin hits him with “you have a half-sister and the Loptyrian Church stole both your and her DNA to cobble together a vessel for their god in a lab and by a vessel I mean a baby - two babies - they stole your DNA and cloned two babies in a lab in Fodlan—“ and Arvis is like “repeat everything you just said but slower”.

Robin goes through the whole thing and has enough info about Arvis’ alleged half-sister that Arvis just. slowly opens Facebook. looks at the friend request from Sigurd that’s been sitting unanswered for two years. looks at Sigurd’s wife in the profile picture with him. slowly pulls a pillow over his head and considers setting himself on fire.

Anyway Arvis does not have Sigurd’s phone number or any contact info for him, still refuses to accept that friend request, and refuses to ask Azelle if he has any contact info for Sigurd, and he’s going to wait to try to get some sort of actual proof from Robin, but he’s also slowly losing his mind and going through every stage of grief and then some bonus unlockable stages, and anyway by the time he has whatever he considers sufficient proof, he calls out of work and just drives to Chalphy because he doesn’t have Sigurd’s number but he knows where Sigurd lives so he just shows up at Sigurd’s house looking like he was hit by a train and he’s like. Hello. I have recently learned something.

It is really a lot on every level for all of them.

#three frat houses au #three frat houses au: the twins arc

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mimi-ya · 3 years ago

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lessons ~ roronoa zoro x reader

4,000 words | she/her reader, f!body | nsfw

summary: zoro accepts love lessons from the love cook himself

masterlist

“You’re going to lose her.”

Zoro cracked an eye from his spot against the ship’s rail, “What’s that?”

Sanji takes a drag from his cigarette, “(Y/N)-swan deserves better than you.”

A hand flies to the swords at his hip, teeth bared as he hisses, “I really don’t think I heard you that time.”

Sanji just shrugs, crushing the cigarette under the sole of his shoe, “We all just saw you turn her down again.” He tilts his head at the pier where you’re standing with the other Straw Hats, “How many more times until you think she’s had enough?”

You had asked Zoro if he wanted to accompany you to the island, find some shops to browse and maybe grab a bite to eat. But Zoro had passed, saying he’d rather stay behind and nap. You had just smiled and told him you’d bring back a snack, pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before following the others.

“She said it was fine.” Zoro snaps, annoyed with the lovesick cook sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong.

“Women won’t say their problems to your face, it’s all about reading between the lines.”

“And what would you know about that?”

Sanji just gives a condescending grin, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He waves as he walks down to the pier before calling over his shoulder, “Let me know if you ever want any advice!”

Zoro folds his arms across his chest, “Stupid cook.” He grumbles, closing his eyes, “Doesn’t know shit, hasn’t even been with a woman.”

You and Zoro had formed an unspoken but obvious relationship after reuniting at Sabaody. He hadn’t realized what had been missing in those two years until you walked right back into his life.

It was quick for both of you to realize how desperately you had missed each other. And it didn’t hurt that the two of you arrived at the Sunny several days before anyone else, giving you plenty of time to reacquaint.

It was a simple thing that followed.

You’d watch him exercise. He’d make sure to save you food from Luffy. You’d lean on him when he’d nap. He’d sneak into your bedroom at night. Zoro thought it was perfect.

But did you?

You were never afraid to say what was on your mind, so surely if you had a problem, you wouldn’t hold back.

Shitty cook didn’t know what he was talking about.

Right?

That question weighed him down all day, eventually leading him to the kitchen way before dinner would even be ready.

“What’s in it for you?”

Sanji doesn’t even pause in his chopping, “Nothing.” He shrugs, “(Y/N) deserves the best. And unfortunately, her poor taste has led her to you.” Zoro grinds his teeth, “Might as well make sure you don’t break her heart.”

“Fine.” He grunts, “But you better not be fucking with me.”

It was the next morning when Sanji woke Zoro up with a swift kick and dragged him out of bed.

“Lesson one. Women love to be complimented.” Sanji slams a sheet of paper in front of Zoro, “They deserve to be reminded of their beauty and perfection.”

Zoro scans the words written down, “My love for you stretches further than the Grand Line? If there was a bounty for beauty yours would be higher than any Yonko? What is this shit?”

Sanji rolls his eyes, “This,” He punctuates with a finger to the paper, “Is how you tell a woman you love her. When was the last time you said anything nice to (Y/N)-swan?”

“I told her that her tits looked good in my shirt just last night.” Zoro says like that’s something to be proud of and Sanji swears he’s going to pop a blood vessel before this is over.

Zoro was sent away from the kitchen (read: physically kicked out) soon after with the task of giving (Y/N) one compliment before the day was over. He grumbled about it, annoyed that the shitty cook doesn’t think he tells you nice things.

But that didn’t stop Zoro from reading through the list once or twice. None of the shit written down is anything he would say, but maybe that’s the point.

“Whatcha got there?”

His body goes rigid at the sound of your voice, quickly balling up the piece of paper in his hand and launching it overboard into the sea below.

“Nothing!” Zoro turns around, leaning against the ship’s rail as if it was any other day, “What do you want?”

“Uhh.” Your eyes glance at the sea below and back to Zoro, but his intense gaze makes you think the last thing he wants is for you to bring up whatever that was, “I was going to grab breakfast and head up to the crow’s nest if you wanted to join?”

Zoro just nods and trails after you and trying his best to ignore Sanji’s pointed stare when you’re getting your bowl.

One of your favorite moments in the day were your early morning breakfasts with Zoro. He would have usually completed his first work when you’d bring up whatever was served that morning. Enjoying breakfast in each other’s presence while watching the sun fully rise.

“The fruit is really juicy this morning.” You comment, taking a bite of the ripe melon.

“You’re, uhmm.” He clears his throat, “You’re juicier than any devil fruit.”

Your eyes bulge out of your head, melon dropping form your lips straight into your lap.

“Rarer! I mean, you’re uhmm. There’s only one of each, like how there’s one of you?”

Not a word comes from you as you stare at Zoro as if he grew an extra head. His fumbling over his correction didn’t make it any better, nor the blush that stained his cheeks.

Zoro watches as your mouth closes and nose scrunches slightly. The way your teeth suck against your lips, as if you’re holding something back-

“What!?!” You erupt into a fit of laughter, almost hysterical, “Oh my, what did you just say?!”

“Nothing!” Zoro yells, abandoning his breakfast and jumping to his feet before storming out of the room.

“Wait!” You call in between laughs, “Come back!” You’d normally go after him if you could, but you’re too busy wiping tears from your eyes and trying to calm your giggles.

Everyone can tell Zoro’s in a sour mood for the rest of the day. But what they don’t understand is why you’re so giddy, almost chasing him down when ever he walks near you just for him to turn around and go back the direction he came from.

It’s something Sanji picks up on right away.

“Knew you’d mess it up.”

“I didn’t mess it up.” Zoro bites out.

“Right.” Sanji rolls his eyes, not even bothering to dignify his excuse, “Let’s get going.”

He leads Zoro down the pier to the edge of the town they had docked at this morning. It was a bustling island and Sanji knew this was the perfect place for Zoro’s next lesson.

“What’s she doing here?” Zoro nods at the navigator who looks like she’s waiting for them.

“I’ve recruited the beautiful Nami-swan since it’s clear my efforts alone aren’t enough.”

“What’s the cost?” Zoro throws daggers at the navigator, more than familiar with her craftiness and greed.

“For once, it’s free.” Nami answers.

Zoro scoffs, “Yeah right.”

A smirk grows on her face, “Sanji told me about your little lessons, not that I think he’s any expert in the field.” She ignores the outcry over her shoulder, “But if you insist on paying, I am more than happy to charge my services.”

“And what are these services?” Zoro crosses his arms.

“Ladies deserve to be treated to something that reminds you of their beauty and love you have for them.” Sanji explains, “And Nami-swan knows more than anyone about the fine art of gift giving.”

“Pfft, more like swindling.”

Sanji ignores Zoro’s comment, “And she is going to help you find the perfect gift to show your love to (Y/N).”

Zoro holds back a comment or two while Nami drags towards a boutique where she immediately runs to the clothes. She pushes aside hanger after hanger on the rack, “Do you know what kind of outfits she likes?”

“No.”

“Well, what about jewelry?” She points at a stand across the street with shiny trinkets on display.

“I don’t know.”

Nami glances over her shoulder, “Okay, well maybe you can get her something else she likes. What sort of hobbies does she have?”

“How should I know?” Zoro snaps, annoyed with all her questions.

“Aren’t you her boyfriend? These are normal things you should be able to answer! Do you know anything about (Y/N)?”

“I know that this is a waste of my time!”

“I’m still charging you a fee!” Nami calls after Zoro who stalks away.

What would either of them know about getting you a gift? It couldn’t be that hard. Hell, you keep that stupid rock Luffy found you on your nightside table because he said it reminded him of you.

Zoro nearly misses the store, too busy muttering to himself. It was pure luck he looked up at that moment, seeing what was displayed in the window.

He smiles to himself. Gift giving was easy.

Zoro returns to the ship later that evening, having spent a bit longer finding his way back than it took him to get to the town in the first place. He groans when he sees Sanji and Nami waiting on the deck.

“Did you end up finding something for (Y/N)?” Sanji asks, arms crossed and eyebrow raised.

Zoro straightens and proudly shows off your gift, “I did.”

“You were supposed to get her something she would like! Not you!” Nami screams, hitting Zoro upside his head.

“Watch it you witch!” Zoro tries his best to dodge her hands, “She’ll like it better than any of the stupid crap you picked out!”

“It’s alright Nami.” Sanji raises his hand, “We’ll see how many times he needs to fail before he takes our advice.”

Zoro rolls his eyes and pushes past the two. He decides to find your straight away so he can be sure rub it in the cook’s face at dinner. You’re going to love them. Who doesn’t love swords?

“Here.”

You glance up from your book just as the objects land with a thud on the edge of your bed, “For me?” You ask, a little confused why Zoro would give you these wooden practice swords. They look like they would be more apt for a child and way below the skill of Zoro, “I don’t know how to use a sword.”

“That’s why I got them.” You cock your head to the side, “To teach you.” He clarifies.

Your eyes widen, picking one up and turning it over in your hand, “You want to teach me swordsmanship?” Even if they are wooden, it looks like they’re nice quality. Sturdy and well molded.

Zoro’s starting to get a little worried as you turn the sword over in your hand. Maybe he should have just gone with the stupid necklace or something.

Suddenly you jump up from the bed, tightening your grip on the sword in your hand before reaching down to toss him the other, a wide grin splitting your face, “Let’s go now!”

By the time Zoro can comprehend your excitement you’ve already sprinted past him, landing a light blow to his ass and giggling as you go.

He’s stock still for a moment before a grin stretches across his face and he chases after you.

It’s the next morning and your body is aching and sore from the workout Zoro put your through last night. And while your typical late night activities with Zoro leave behind a delicious burn, the swordplay had you feeling more stiff than usual. Hopefully Chopper still had some solvent left over or would at least be able to make you a batch.

You hadn’t planned on eavesdropping, but when you passed by the kitchen and saw Zoro and Sanji sitting side by side and not trying to kill each other, you felt it was your responsibility to make sure everything was okay.

“You’ve failed every attempt so far.”

“That’s not true! She liked the swords!”

“She felt sorry for you!” Sanji takes a deep breath, steading himself, “But there’s still hope. Our next lesson is about the sensual side of women.”

“Fuck no.”

“Excuse me, marimo?”

“There’s no way I’m talking about that with you.”

Sanji looks ready to explode, “I’m not sure what else to do with you! You can’t handle the simplest things, and now you won’t even listen!”

Zoro launches himself to his feet, “Your advice has been shit anyway! I knew this was a waste of time!”

Sanji waves his hand, “Fine, but don’t come crawling to me when (Y/N)-swan dumps your ass.”

Zoro balls his hands into fists, his anger matched with a look of pure rage on his face.

Now would be a good time for you to intervene.

“I had a feeling something was up.” You push open the door and reveal yourself, causing both men to freeze, “Sanji, can you give us a moment?”

Sanji eyes briefly glance between the two of you, and one might even say he looked a little worried, not that he would ever admit it.

You wait for him to leave before turning to Zoro, “Care to explain what that was all about?”

He falls back into his seat, folding is arms across his chest before glaring at the floor. A moment passes and you don’t think he’s going to answer, but then he lets out a long sigh, “The shitty cook was giving me,” He meets your eye before looking back at the floor, “love lessons.”

You don’t even try to hold back your surprised laughter, “What! For me?”

Zoro shrugs, still not meeting your eye. You’ve never seen his face so red before and it hits you exactly what he’s been trying to do for you.

You don’t know exactly how long this could have been going on for, but for him to willing endure Sanji for you?

Now that’s something special.

“Zoro.” You situate yourself between his knees, fingers cupping the underside of his jaw so he’ll look at you, “I’m with you, because I like you the way you are.”

His shoulders sag slightly, as if a weight has been lifted, and you wonder how much this might have been weighing on him.

“I don’t need flowery words that Sanji feeds you.” You press a kiss to his lips, “You don’t need to buy me presents.” You straddle his lap, his hands coming to settle on your hips, “Or whatever else Sanji came up with.” Your arms wrap around his shoulders, “I just need you. You know that, right?”

Zoro’s body slowly loosens, his hands resting on your hips. He looks up to meet your eye, “You’re special to me.”

Your heart is beating so fast you think it might explode outside your chest. This is the Zoro you fell for. He might not be the poet some people dream of, but when he says things like that?

You can’t stop yourself from pressing your lips to his, your body flush against his chest. You smile into the kiss when Zoro grunts against your lips, not expecting the sudden affection.

His tongue sneaks into your mouth, one of his hands shifting around to rest on your ass. You can feel him hardening against your leg, and it’s clear Zoro has intentions.

“Zoro.” You whine as he trails kisses down your neck, “What about Sanji?”

“Shitty cook,” A kiss to your shoulder as he pushes down your shirt, “Said this was the next lesson anyway.”

A squeak escapes you when Zoro suddenly stands, lifting you easily as he carries you to island countertop. Depositing you gently on your feet before motioning for you to turn around.

You bite you lip in excitement when his lips return to you neck, hands coming around from behind to cup your breasts.

Breathless pants fill the room and you have to grip the counter in front of you when rough and calloused hands trail your sides before they quickly push your pants down.

Cool air hits you, causing a shiver to run down your spine, and just as suddenly there’s movement behind you as Zoro falls to his knees and presses his face right into your aching cunt.

“Ahh!” You collapse to your elbows, “Zor-ahh. Zoro!” You choke out between moans, “We don’t- We don’t have time!”

His tongue licks a fat stripe into your folds before catching on your sensitive nub that has you muffling your cries into the crook of your elbow.

Zoro digs his fingers into your ass cheeks, spreading you wide to continue his assault on your cunt. His tongue diving into to get a taste straight from the source. He can’t help but moan at the tangy flavor, definitely his favorite meal in the morning.

The vibrations from his mouth sending a shiver up your spine, “Just fuck me already!” You snap, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of begging, but you can’t take this any longer and any minute someone might stumble through the door.

Zoro pulls back and tuts, mildly annoyed you’re interrupting him, “That desperate, huh?” But none the less stands from his knees, the sound of clothes rustling reaching your ears.

His hips press into your ass, hardened cock sliding through your wet folds in a way that has you keening. And then his cock’s fat head is pulling back before pushing at your entrance.

A comforting hand runs down your spine, slipping under your shirt and his skin is burning against yours, “Deep breath.” He mutters, waiting for you to follow his orders.

You suck in as much air as you can, bracing yourself as he slides the first few inches in. Choking on your exhale as he splits you open. Even with his prep and your aching desire, it’s still a lot to handle.

“Again.” He says, but you can hear the edge in his voice, like he’s holding back from slamming into you.

You fill your lungs, fingers clenching into fists while you wait. But instead of stuffing you to the brim like he normally would, he flattens himself against you. Slipping in a little more of his girth but trying to hold back as he presses a kiss against your cheek, his hand grasping around your closed fist.

“Good girl.” He whispers against the shell of your ear, intertwining his fingers with your own. A smile graces your lips under his praise, momentarily distracted from yearning in your cunt.

That is until he uses the opportunity to ruthlessly thrust and bottom out.

Your squirming and thrashing underneath is involuntary, unable to comprehend the pressure and fullness you feel all at once.

“Knock it off.” He mutters, pulling back slowly to push back in with twice as much force.

“Ahh!” You cry out, gripping his hand for dear life as he begins a vicious pace. Wet slaps of skin filling the kitchen as his cock bullies its way deeper inside you.

The counter’s edge is digging into your stomach, but even that can’t distract you from the pleasure that’s building at your core. How his thick length splits you in half just to fill you again and again.

Zoro’s hand cups your jaw, forcing you to look forward towards the door, “Let ‘em here it.” He says, knowing how you’re holding back the whimpers and moans from him in order to preserve some sort of decency.

But Zoro doesn’t care. He wants everyone on this ship to know how good he’s giving it to you. That he’s more than enough for you, just the way he is.

“Zoro.” You whine when his thrusts slow to a delicious drag of his hips in and out that has you teetering on the edge.

He grunts at the feel of your cunt pulsating around him, “Not until I hear it.”

You wiggle your ass, trying to entice him to return to the quick pace from earlier, but he’s got the upper hand with his weight pressed against you. You can feel his cocky smile against your shoulder, making it clear you won’t be getting anything you want until he gets what he wants.

“Then make me.” You bite out, sick of his games and hoping to provoke him enough to let you fall over the tip of pleasure.

He stills for a moment, and you try to look over your shoulder, but suddenly a hand presses into your back, forcing you flat against the countertop. You can feel him shift behind you, rising to his full height.

His cock pulls out slightly before ramming back into you, again and again. Your hands fly to your mouth, trying to cover the moans that are spilling out through your fingertips.

But Zoro is having none of it.

He pulls on your arms until they’re behind your back, one hand gripping both of your wrists while his other sneaks around to rub circles at your clit that’s been throbbing since his tongue had been prodding at it earlier.

You whimper his name, your face smushed against the counter. You can just make out his figure in the corner of your eye. Sweat pooling at his brow and pants falling from his lips as he drives into your poor abused cunt over and over.

He catches your eye and smirks, which should have prepared you for what’s to come. Hips angling just a smidge upward, and suddenly his cock is dragging against that spot.

“Zoro!” You scream, no longer caring if you wake up the entire ship, so long he keeps this up.

“That’s it.” Zoro grunts under his breath, eyes transfixed on where his cock is disappearing into your cunt only to come back shinier and wetter each thrust. Your babbled pleases and cries are music to his ears as he keeps up with the grinding of your hips, loving the sensation of you choking his cock with your tight walls.

Your body goes rigid for a moment when you finally hit that peak, eyes rolling into the back of your head and clamping down so hard that Zoro thinks his dick might just break off inside you.

Pleasure thrums through your limp body as you collapse against the counter. You know Zoro’s still rutting into you, helping draw out this climax as much as he can. But you’re a million miles away enjoying the haze that has washed over you.

And then there’s a heat that fills you to the brim, Zoro’s choked grunts in your ear and a smile graces your lips when his body shudders above yours, tapering out after a few more thrust.

His heavy pants tickle at your neck while both of your chests move in tandem with labored breaths. His lips press against your sweat covered neck, “Do me a favor, will ya?”

Sanji is going to kill him.

Not only is he behind schedule for breakfast, the marimo had the nerve to defile his kitchen. Which will only cost him even more time in order to disinfect every surface the two of you might have touched.

Just as Sanji was about to crack and barge in there, the door swings open.

Zoro and you stumble out, his arm wrapped around your shoulders.

Sanji thinks he’s going to be sick from looking at the disheveled state you’re in. Clothes askew, love bites forming on your throat, not to mention that smug fucking look from the marimo.

“Sorry about that Sanji-kun.” You smile sweetly, and Sanji feels almost all his anger dissipate at your lovely face, “I was just telling Zoro how much I loved the gift you helped him pick out.” You glance up at Zoro, who’s clearly enjoying the confused look on the shitty cook’s face, “His sword really is the best thing about him.”

With a wink, you let Zoro lead you towards the deck, quite aware of the state you’ve left poor Sanji in, who is definitely going to need to disinfect the counters, as well as his eyes and his ears.

But it was so worth it when Zoro flashes you a grin that warms your heart and reminds you of just how lucky you are.

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thatcrazycrowgirl · 2 years ago

Note

Hey Crowie! It's nice to see you here again and that you want to get back on track. You know I'm a big sucker for Jacob but Arno is a handsome man as well haha. So if you like what a out the promt of sharing a kiss over a cup of coffee or tea for those who prefer tea, like I do ;) but Arno is definitely a coffee drinker

I hope you're doing alright and you're getting better *hug*

Hello there, @havatnah! Hopefully at some point, I can get back into the right headspace to be able to write Jacob properly again. In the meantime, thank you for indulging me with your ask for Arno. hehe Also, your ask actually gives me a fun idea! ;)

And thank you, I am gradually doing better, I think. Hope you enjoy the piece! <3

10. Sharing a kiss over a cup of coffee (and tea)

Closing his eyes, Arno took in a deep breath and sighed with the upmost content. In his hands, he held a cup close to his face, the vessel still warm with the freshly-brewed coffee that was in it. It was still rather early in the morning; the café hadn’t opened up to the public yet, leaving you and Arno to enjoy your breakfast in peace at one of the tables.

And peaceful it was, as the two of you quietly indulged in your meal, just enjoying each other’s company.

“Happy to have your ‘bean water’ back?” you teased gently, breaking the near-silence as you smiled over your own cup of tea.

Arno cracked open his eyes and gave you a small, yet vaguely impish smirk. “Given that I was stuck drinking ‘leaf broth’ for nearly a week, yes, I am,” he joked back.

It was no secret that while you and Arno agreed on a lot of things, your choice of morning beverage was not one of them. You liked the subtle flavor of coffee in the desserts served at the café well enough, but drinking the coffee on its own just never quite appealed to you. Arno, on the other hand, practically lived off of the stuff, sometimes drinking it all day - especially when the weather turned colder.

Unfortunately for him, with the winter season fast approaching, the customers at the Café Théâtre were doing pretty much the same, ordering cup after cup and quickly depleting the supply of coffee beans in the kitchen pantry and the side store room. With the supply ships also coming in at a slower rate as well that time of year, this left the poor man without his favorite drink for longer than he would've liked.

His first day without it didn’t seem too bad, but by day two, you could see a noticeable difference in his demeanor. His mind was less sharp, he seemed more irritable, and he even stopped his business-related paperwork in the middle of the day to take a nap, due to an apparent headache. Fortunately, those side effects lessened a little when he finally took your gentle suggestion and try to drink a cup of tea; but despite him not saying anything, you could tell he didn’t enjoy it nearly as much as his coffee.

So, to now see him in a much more pleasant mood than he had been all week, thanks to again having one of his favorite aspects of his morning routine restored to him, was a relief; not only to you, but to anyone else who interacted with him.

“I still don’t understand why you prefer that one drink over all the flavors tea has to offer,” you nevertheless continue to needle him. There was no maliciousness in your words, however, quite the contrary. Light banter between you two was common by this point, the knowledge that it was coming from a place a love well-understood most of the time.

He shrugged. “You know I prefer something a little more...robust.”

You nearly snorted at that. “Says the man who practically dumps half a sack full of sugar into his cup.”

“I beg your pardon! Not half a sack!” he exclaimed, seemingly offended. His tone then changed slightly as he mumbled, “it’s more like quarter of a sack.”

He took another drink, but when he pulled his cup away from his mouth, you could see he was smiling. You couldn’t help grinning yourself when you realized why. He had made a joke. The previously coffee-deprived grump had made his first joke in what felt like ages. This only lifted your heart more. He was finally returning to normal.

“I must say, though,” he continued, “I’m surprised the ship with our order came earlier than expected. Not that I’m complaining.”

“It still hasn’t. That coffee you’re now drinking was from another shipment on a different ship,” you revealed.

He paused for a moment, processing this, before setting down his cup. His brow was slightly furrowed in confusion. “Then how–”

“I personally paid them a good price to sell me one of their sacks of coffee beans,” you confessed. The corners of your mouth sweetly quirked up. “Just for you.”

He blinked. “Really?”

You nodded, your smile now reaching your eyes. “Mmm-hmm.”

You barely had time to register the brightening of his face, before he launched towards you over the table, his lips easily finding yours. If any of the staff passing by had caught Arno’s public display of gratitude and affection, he paid them no mind - and neither did you.

“You, my dear, are truly the best as they come,” he praised after breaking away for a moment, before meeting your lips again with a much deeper kiss. Quickly and very willingly reciprocating it, you set down your cup and brought your hand to his warm cheek with a hum. You could taste the coffee on his lips and tongue, but for once, you didn’t care.

You were just happy to see him back to his old self again.

#hope this is alright #I may be a little rusty with writing him lol #Arno Dorian x Reader #Arno Dorian #Assassin's Creed Unity #my ac writings

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yannadere · 3 years ago

Text

daryl dixon, shane walsh and glenn rhee (separate) reacting to their s/o getting bit

cw: loss, depression, unhealthy coping, suicide, angst, hurt/comfort

Daryl Dixon:

you're scared to tell him

he's lost so much even before the apocalypse, you don't want to hurt him

trying to distance yourself from daryl doesn't work at all

he just gets worried, which comes across as him being angry, and he clings to you

poor bby has abandonment issues

it's a few days after you get bit when you finally tell him, you already feel your health deteriorating but you hold up for him

you tell him when he's getting ready to settle for the night

bc evenings with you are when he's the most calm

"hey, daryl?" you mumble, and he hums softly, eyes still closed. "hey, look at me. i have to tell you something." you sigh, nudging his arm with your uninjured hand. "what?" he groans, finally looking at you. "i.. my hand isn't just cut, daryl..." you sigh, unraveling the bandages. "what'dya mean?" daryl's brows furrow, eyes falling onto the bandages as they fall.

his blood goes cold, and he sits up suddenly and grabs your wrist to observe the nasty bite on the side of your hand, between your thumb and forefinger. "damn it, why didn't you tell me?!" he snaps, stopping to take a breath as you flinch back slightly. "c'mere..." he sighs, pulling you into a tight hug. "i'm so sorry..." you whisper clutching his shirt tightly. "sh, it's okay... i... when you go, i'll be here."

"daryl... you shouldn't have to do that..." you close your eyes, tears slowly falling. "nah. it's fine. i... i wanna do it. i don't trust anyone else to. not even you." he holds you tighter, kissing your neck gently.

"i'm so sorry, daryl... i was being stupid, i-" he silences you, moving away and pressing his forehead against yours. "don't blame yourself. i knew something like this would happen eventually... i put merle down, had a feeling either of us would go next." he gently cups your face with his hands, wiping your cheeks and nuzzling his nose against yours affectionately.

"i don't want to put you through this, daryl." you cry, going to leave when he pulls you back. "don't leave... please don't leave..." daryl begs, pulling you back to him and letting your body fall limp against his. you let out a small sob, wrapping your arms around his middle as your head rests on his shoulder, tears dampening his shirt.

"it'll be okay. i'll take care of it. for now, get some rest. i'll be here when you wake up." he kisses your cheek, waiting for you to calm down. you sniffle, holding him tightly. "i'm so sorry..!" you repeat the words over and over, and he closes his eyes, trying not to cry himself.

"shh... please... don't be sorry." his voice wavers and he hates it. "just sleep, darlin'... i'm right here." you whimper before falling quiet, resting your hand on his jaw and nuzzling into his neck. "i love you, okay..? i didn't want it to be this way." you breathe out, letting him lean onto you slightly. "i know. i know. just sleep for me, darling." he sniffles, cradling you close as you fall asleep slowly, knowing it would be the last time.

you fall asleep in his arms, but he can't bring himself to harm you

so, he tells rick, who's also upset upon the news

however his best friend's distress makes it even worse

so, rick does it for him as the others try to comfort daryl

after your death, he becomes reckless and depressed, not eating or drinking at all and becoming skinny and malnourished

he shoots openly at walkers, and when his ammo's out he takes out his anger on other walkers in other ways

whether it's stabbing them, bludgeoning them, or just hitting their bodies after they fall.

rick decides to put him under close watch to ensure he doesn't harm himself

but daryl's rather experienced in sneaking out/away, and he visits your grave often

unfortunately one morning, rick finds him at your grave with a bullet in his head

he's buried next to you, as rick knows it's what daryl craved

to be with you again.

Shane Walsh:

you got bit on the way back from gathering medical supplies for carl

and with shane you knew there was no way he would take well at any time of the day

so you decide to rip the bandaid off and talk to him an hour after your own little grieving session.

you approach him when he's talking to the small group, asking him for a private talk, saying it's important

so, of course, he's worried, as are the group

you take him behind the barn and hug him

he's genuinely confused as to why you're acting like this

deadass asks you if you're expecting or smth

you hate to break his heart

"so why did you bring me back here?" shane asks, crossing his arms and cocking a hip. "shane... i'm sorry." you sigh, pulling the collar of your shirt to reveal the bloody bite on your shoulder.

he's speechless, blinking a few times before almost collapsing. you yelp, catching your boyfriend quickly, but fall under his weight. on the floor behind the barn, shane closes his eyes, crying as he holds you tight. "shane... don't cry. it's okay..." you try your best to smile, cupping his face and wiping his tears.

"this isn't okay..! baby, you're not okay!" he sobs, cupping the back of your head and pulling you closer. "shane- baby, stop crying... it's okay." you sniffle, smiling through your own tears as you kiss his jaw lovingly

shane tries to gather himself, but his whole world feels like it's collapsing. "shh, shh... c'mon, let's get you some water." you grab his hands, trying to pull him up. slowly easing him onto his feet, you help shane back to the house. rick spots you two immediately, stumbling to help you both. "shane-?"

"rick..!" shane is clearly distraught, and his best friend latches onto him quickly to try and calm him down. "shshsh- hey, look at me." rick soothes, and you stand back slightly, trying to calm your nerves. "what happened?" rick demands, eyes steeling as he stares at you. "rick- it's not-" you try to explain what happened, when shane answers for you. "they got bit! my baby got bit..!" shane sobs, knees feeling weak as he almost collapses again.

rick processes the information, looking at you in shock. lori overhears, muttering a fast "oh my god..!" as she approaches the three of you. "how did this happen?!" rick asks, trying to support shane fully. "i was in a rush, i got grabbed and..." you trail off, moving over to comfort shane who can't calm down at all.

"he needs to sit down..." you say softly, glancing at hershel who was observing from his porch. "come, sit him down inside. i'll get him some water." hershel guides you and you help shane in with the aid of rick. flopping down onto a couch, shane can't seem to catch his breath, so you crouch in front of him to cup his face, whispering comforting words to him. "baby... i'm so sorry, it should of been me..!" shane cries, and you hush him quickly. "don't you dare say that, shane walsh." you scold, pulling him into a tight hug.

"never blame yourself for my death. i wouldn't rest easy if you did." you sigh, smoothing his hair and kissing his temple. rick stands anxiously nearby, and you sense his worry. "sit, rick. relax... i've got this." you nod at him, and he nods stiffly, taking a seat of his own when lori pipes up. "when do you think you'll turn?" she asks, and you freeze. "lori-!" "i'm just thinking ahead, rick!"

shane becomes more distraught by her words, clinging onto you tightly. "shh, it's okay... i'm here, bubs." you sigh, cradling him impossibly closer. "the hell's goin' on?" maggie asks, confused as ever. "not now, please..." rick sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. "right..." she mumbles, leaving as hershel comes back with some water. "here, drink some of this, son." he nods, giving the glass to you so shane could take it.

after taking a few sips, shane goes back to codding you, slowly winding down. "there you go, just breathe." you smile, kissing him gently. "i'm sorry i couldn't protect you..!" shane hiccups, nuzzling your neck. "shh. don't say that..!" you sigh, holding him tighter. your boyfriend whines softly, and rick closes his eyes with a pained sigh.

you last a few more days before turning, spending your time slowly becoming more sick with shane next to you all the while.

when you turn, shane is devastated, holding your head as you stare up at him with discoloured eyes

he ignores how you try to bite him after a few minutes of your brain losing all memory of him, and his tears drip down onto your face

rick walks in, and sighs. he knew it would happen eventually... everyone did.

shane holds you for a few minutes. you were slowly gaining strength but he was always stronger.

the room is silent except for you little noises, and shane finally accepts this fate when rick puts a hand on his shoulder.

"let me do it..." his best friend gruffly says, and shane shakes his head. "leave 'em be, rick... just for a little while longer..." shane begs, and rick sighs, looking away briefly.

"you know i can't do that. if you or anyone get bit-" "rick, i am asking you nicely. leave."

he spends a few days with you in walker form, and it scares everyone. lori tries to convince him that you're not there anymore, a hollow vessel of what you once were but he wont buy it.

he loves you too much to believe anything like that, or hurt you. to him, you're still his darling, his everything who held him when times got tough.

you scratch at his arms, not even breaking skin due to your blunt nails, and he doesn't mind.

finally, with a few kisses around your pale, sunken face, and a final kiss to your lips that he forced closed- shane raises his gun.

he hesitates, letting you get the jump on him, but he grabs your jaw before you can do anything

the sudden commotion makes rick fly in, only to see you lifeless once more in shane's arms.

Glenn Rhee:

unlike the other two, he watches you get bit.

he's completely distraught as the rest of the group fight off the walkers whilst he makes his way to you

he rams the zombie with all his strength, knocking it down before shooting it

you've collapsed, sat back against the car door as blood seeps from your cheek, whimpering in pain and holding the gash with your blood-soaked hands.

he's crying before he knows it, dropping down next to you and carefully covering your cheek with his shaky hands.

he tries to reassure you, and himself, that you'll be fine and won't get infected,

but the sad look in your eyes confirm that you're not making it to the date he wanted to take you on tomorrow

as you slowly bleed out, he tries to tell you stories, to keep himself calm as you slowly die.

"hey, remember when..?" you're not paying attention, just admiring him as you move your hands to cup his face.

"i love you.." you croak with a small smile, and he smiles sadly, sobbing all the while.

the others have to watch, all waiting for the inevitable

"please don't leave me... please, i need you." glenn pleads, and you smile sadly.

he's pressing kisses to your forehead as you hold him close, your blood staining his hands, arms and shirt

"baby...?" glenn mumbles softly, sitting with you leant against him. "i'm still here, darling..." you whisper, gripping his shirt tightly. "i'm gonna miss you..." glenn sniffles, kissing the top of your head gently. "me too. i'll always be with you, okay. when i go, i don't want you to be sad. i want you to keep going, to find happiness again, even if it means finding love in another. i want the best for you." you smile, despite the ache in your cheek.

glenn breathes out as his eyes close, his tears still falling. "i could never replace you like that..." he whimpers, fingers curling into your hair as he holds you closer. "baby, don't cry... don't cry, because i'll cry." you try to laugh, and glenn laughs too, gently rubbing your uninjured cheek.

"glenn, we've got to, y'know..." rosita sighs, but glenn shakes his head. "no! we don't kill the living..!" glenn protests, his hold turning protective. "right, right... okay." she fakes surrender, walking away.

when you pass, glenn just knows. he doesn't even look at you. he can't bring himself to.

however, when you turn, he doesn't even bother to restrain you, just holding you close as you bite into his neck.

abraham shouts in alarm, shooting you instantly, and glenn cries as you fall, cupping your face and leaning down to press his forehead against you.

the group is distraught, but glenn just lets everything happen, telling them to leave him be, move on.

abraham gives him a spare pistol, and glenn takes it with a nod.

the group leaves, and glenn knows what he has to do. so, he opens the car door, slipping you into the car easily

he gets in himself, closing the door so walkers wouldn't chew on you or him.

alas, glenn admires the gun before pressing it to his chin.

#tw su*cide #cw angst #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon #twd daryl #twd rick #twd shane #shane walsh x reader #shane walsh #glenn rhee x reader #glenn rhee #twd glenn #the walking dead x reader #twd x reader

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ppersonna · 4 years ago

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.”

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#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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