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buckybarnesdiaries · 4 years ago

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a piece of cake

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

Something happens at Shuri's birthday party that leads to a heated fight.

word count: 3k words. (fuck, it worth every damn word)

warnings/tags: nsfw, +18!!! angry jealous sex, let's start there. unprotected sex, oral sex (face fucking and ridding), fingering, brief daddy!kink, brief praise!kink, language, cursing, handcuffing, mention of bodily fluids, and probably i'm forgetting something else, i just lost my mind. bucky being the cutest and loving man on earth at the end.

author notes: none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

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You had never been so quiet, but you knew that opening your mouth only could cause a storm inside the car, on your way back home. Believing you could have a pinch of luck, Bucky wouldn't notice that something was raving you mad since the moment you watched him letting another woman give him a spoon of cake. Straight to his mouth. You almost choked on your drink, talking to Shuri about how excited she was to celebrate her birthday in New York, when you witnessed the scene hearing their laughs and watching how they dared to touch his metal arm constantly. Your boyfriend was talking with some of his old friends from Wakanda, not even knowing he made friends there. He never said a word about it. Even so, they didn't have the right to flirt with him. Unless he didn't say anything about you.

But Bucky wasn't stupid. Or at least, not like you thought. Gazing you by the corners of his blue eyes, he was conscious that something was going wrong. He licked his upper lip briefly, slowly. He tasted the waters putting a hand on your thigh, which was your favorite gesture while he was driving, deriving with your fingers laced and him placing kisses on the back of your hand. But you didn't move an inch, still staring through the copilot's window with your elbow nailed there and your chin resting on your knuckles.

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing”.

Your passive tone and the lie as a response caused him to frown, pulling over the car to focus on you. He turned on his seat and placed a hand behind the headrest of yours.

“Spit it”.

You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow ironically, looking at him for a second. If he had to ask it was because he wasn't really seeing the dilemma there.

“I'm just tired and I wanna go home, James. That's all”.

James. James. You did it unconsciously, but he didn't take it as an innocent manner of calling him. Unexpressive, the soldier joined the highway driving faster than he used to. You had pissed him off, but it wasn't your problem. He had hurt your feelings with something he didn't give any importance to. The only thing you wanted was to take a shower, put on your comfier pajamas and go to sleep, probably you'd see tomorrow that situation differently than today and you could move on from your insecurities and the jealousy running through your veins.

You arrived at your apartment in record time, keeping the car inside the parking under the building. You removed the seat belt to wear your leather jacket and grab your purse on your feet, stepping out when you were ready. But Bucky stayed inside, just turning off the engine. He didn't have any intention of leaving it, maintaining his hands tightly gripped around the wheel. You ignored him as soon as you couldn't pretend you were just tired anymore. It was the first time something like that happened and you were having a strong desire to throw your guts up.

Three minutes later you were under the warm water with your forehead resting against the cold wall and your eyes closed. Maybe you were overreacting and the rational, mature behavior would be to go to talk with him, tell your boyfriend what made you feel upset. Sighing as you nodded two times, determined to put the cards on the table, you shut off the faucet and walked out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel.

“Oh, fucking hell!” You growled because of the scare of your life when you found Bucky already in your shared room.

He had his back supported on the wall, a leg flexed, and his hands behind himself. No expression on his face, but expecting an explanation from you. You were hoping for something from him too, maybe I don't know what I've done to make you feel like that, can you give me a clue? He just stared at you in silence, drying the pearls of water decorating your body before wearing a pair of black panties and your forgotten pajamas instead of one of his t-shirts impregnated on his scent.

“Com'ere”. Bucky whispered, stretching his flesh hand on air when you were about to go to sleep.

“No”.

Well, that wasn't the proper way to talk like grown adults. You crossed both arms on your chest, standing next to your side of the bed.

“What'd you say?” He squinted incredulous, slowly standing from the wall, pretending you hadn't uttered that word.

“I said no, you fucking punk”.

“The hell d'you think you're talking to, darling?”

“To the cretin who let other women flirt and touch him”. You replied with evident annoyance. “Why don't you go to show them your daddy's skills, uh? Sure I can find someone who respects me in the meantime”.

Suddenly, a grimace you hadn't seen before on him appeared like a thunderbolt. You weren't sure if you just made him feel more furious or if you just broke his heart. But before you could figure it out, Bucky shorted the distance between both in two fast strides and his hands gripped your throat and the back of your neck respectively, pinning you to the closest wall and tossing the lamp on your nightstand to the floor. You complained slightly —with his tongue wildly invading your mouth— because of the strength he used to put you against the wall.

You tried to push him away, to not fall into his charmings, but he made your mind blank when his fingers were firmly nailed in your ass and his body was accommodated between your legs. Your fiery provoked a bulge under his pants so painful that in every rock against your core he wasn't sure if it hurt or if it was some kind of pleasure he couldn't handle. Out of breath, Bucky attacked your neck, digging his teeth in your neck with so much passion that you screamed delighted his full name while pulling his hair. That gesture drove him insane, losing the less sanity he had at that point. With just a push, your boyfriend ripped off your shirt to strip you, in anticipation of your panties suffering the same fate.

Bucky threw you to the mattress on your abdomen, perfectly positioned to what was about to happen. He was so eager, so desperate for showing you what he was feeling that he didn't lose time taking off his clothes, just undoing his belt and unzipping his jeans to pull them down to his ankles along his boxers. You heard him spitting in his hand to use it as lube, although you were sufficiently soaked and ready for your Buck that neither of you needed his saliva. He rammed his dolorous erection into your cunt, crashing his pelvis and pressing it against your ass with all his strength, causing you to drown a loud cry in the sheets.

Tangling his fingers with yours and lacing your arms around your neck, putting all his weight onto your back, Bucky pounded you with an insanely quick rhythm, not giving you any chance to mold your throbbing walls around his length. Your pleased vocals echoed inside your room in total sync with the hits to your g-spot. Your body received with every one of them soft cramps mixed with pain and pleasure, making you roll your eyes and tear your throat.

“'S that wh— what you wanted, uh?” Bucky snarled against the back of your neck, totally gone, not giving you a break or showing any mercy.

“Fuck, no…” You replied, challenging him.

He swallowed a rough moan, wrapping his cold fingers around your throat while using the other to pull back your hair and arch your body. “Don' fucking… lie to me, doll… You wan— wanted your daddy to make you… feel desired over tho— those women”.

And yes, he was right. More or less. But you didn't expect him to react like that. Bucky was rabidly fucking you, moving the bed from its position with every angry thrust into your pussy. You knew you weren't going to last for too long if he continued impaling you against the mattress, just like that. But you both had to recognize that it was the best session of sex of your life.

“You were… fucking mad watch— watching 'em touch my arm… your arm, right?”

You whined at the brutality he used to push his hard cock beyond your limits, holding it there as he tilted your head to crash his lips on yours. Bucky devoured them until they were shiny, swollen, slightly ached because of the bit he left on your bottom one.

“If you don't tell me… the truth… I swear I'm not gonna let you come”. The whisper fell into your ear with such a raspy tone of voice, conscious of him being very capable.

“It was… your fucking fault, James. Not… Not mine”. You grunted, feeling him going a little deeper. “I di— didn't let anybody flirt with me… as if you didn't exist”.

That was the truth, but the wrong answer for him. Suddenly, Bucky pulled out his dick covered in your arousal, freeing you from any grip. A pause that only lasted the time he took to grab the handcuffs from your nightstand to place them in your wrists and secure them around the headboard. Now you were under his total control, defying him by strongly closing your legs and frowning at him, panting and sweating.

“Lemme tell you something”. Your boyfriend said, dangerously crawling over the bed till reaching your knees and forcing them to be separated, wide spread for him. “If you think I was flirting, but you didn't see… how uncomfortable I was… This situation is not my fault”.

The tables were turned as he finished his sentence, settling himself between your legs yet kneeling to raise your ass above his lap. “Not so mouthy now, are you, doll?”

You wanted to speak back, to say something after having a second to reconsider the reason why you were so angrier at him when Bucky pushed you down and rammed his dick back to the place it belonged. You forced unconsciously your hands gripped, wanting to put them on him —wherever—. As soon as he handcuffed you, your desire for touching him used to be suffocating. But you were the one who played from the start, instead of telling him how you were feeling about that situation at Shuri's party.

Bucky didn't even let you kiss him, stabilizing you on top with an arm around your waist and his cold hand holding the back of your head. His hips rocked straight to your g-spot once and once, making you lose any kind of control over your body as your boyfriend didn't have any compassion, needing to find relief to his sorrowful erection by cumming inside your clenching walls. You were driving him crazy, maintaining your eye contact at all moments and almost drinking your delighted, obscene crying, aware that only him could cause you to be so dirty.

“Feels good, uh…? You like it?” Your boyfriend brushed your lips with his, depriving you of his kisses or any other touch. “Bec— 'cause you take your daddy... so damn good, baby girl… So tight… so tight you could kill me”.

“Yes, da— daddy”. You whimpered nodding your head. “Only you… can fuck me li— like that… Only you”.

“That's it… that's it, oh, fuck… fuck, doll”.

You saw him roll that pair of beautiful blue eyes to the back of his head, feeling Bucky's thighs tensing under your legs. You didn't want anything else than making him cum, after overthinking about how he felt, and not about what you witnessed. He was right, more or less. He was still being so innocent in those kinds of situations that he used to feel like a scared kid.

You suddenly fell back to reality when the emptiness sensation invaded you. Bucky pulled out his length from you again, causing you to beg in silence for not denying you the orgasm you were about to reach. But he warned you. Bucky asked you to tell him the truth and you chose to challenge him. Letting you sit on the mattress, he flexed a leg to guide his twitching cock to your mouth, not needing to tell you what he wanted you to do. You just parted your lips, receiving him without protesting, curling your fingers when he forced your limits, and positioned both hands on your head. Twirling your tongue around his base as you could, with your cavity completely invaded, Bucky provoked you a strong gag. A gesture that led to his warm seed being spilled down your throat.

“Fuck my life, baby girl!” He couldn't help but howl driven by the pleasure as you coughed and made vibrate his sensitive skin.

Just holding his dick trapped by your lips for a second, he freed your mouth, taking his time to admire you swallowing his cum and showing afterward your tongue. God, you looked so beautiful disheveled, with teary eyes and swollen lips because of the effort.

“Want me to tell you something else?” Bucky asked while cleaning the sweat in his forehead with the back of his arm, taking the small key to liberating you with his free hand.

You didn't reply, not needing to, as he rubbed your wrists to comfort your skin before lying by your side.

“Com'ere”. He whispered, yet trying to recover your breathings. Bucky wrapped you with his flesh arm, rubbing his iron fingers up and down your tense belly, creating a contrast that caused you goosebumps. “'M so sorry for making you feel like that”.

He kissed you. Slowly, passionate, tasting his own juices mixed with your saliva. Caressing your tongue with the tip of his, and no rush. You felt his digits touring down your skin, till finding your throbbing and needed clit. You weren't able to hold back a sweet moan when he circled his fingertip over your sensible pearl, gladly drinking your vocals.

“When I wanted to react… she was putting that damn spoon into my mouth. It felt horrible, doll, I promise”. He murmured, venturing his long cold finger to part your folds and sink it inside you —moaning at the fulfill sensation—. “You always save me from those awkward situations… but you were having fun with Shuri and I didn't want to interrupt you”.

You were feeling like shit, looking at him through your eyelids as he curved a second finger into your cunt and increased the pace of the pounds with his hand made of vibranium. Bucky spread some gentle kisses all around your face, ending with a tender bite to your lips.

“When you told me you wanted to go home, I felt a huge relief… 'Cause that was everything I wanted. Go home with you. Maybe watch a movie… cuddle… fall asleep on the sofa”.

“Oh, God, Bucky”. You wept onto his mouth, as soon as a third finger filled you, nailing his hand in the perfect position to be moved up and down. “I'm so— sorry, Buck… I'm sorry”.

“Fuck, no”. He let out, thrusting you harder, faster, creating a melody of filthy sloppy sounds while your moans were louder and louder. “I should stop 'em, I didn't… I didn't. But I respect you more than anything, doll… I love you with all my heart. I care 'bout you, 'bout your feelings… Can you forgive me? Can you… Can you cum for me?”

You nodded your head running out of words, seeing your boyfriend snaking his body down the bed to between your shaky legs, yet having his fingers knuckles deep inside you. “Keep 'em open for your man”.

The blow to your abused cunt provoked you a lash up to your backbone, landing your hands on his head as Bucky sank his face straight to your center. His digits fucked you savagely, while his tongue took control of your swollen pearl —sucking, licking, kissing, pulling it back—. He wasn't going to deny that pleasure to you, quite the opposite. You pressed unconsciously his face a little closer to your pussy, swinging your hips and riding his mouth when his caresses and his pushes became too much for you.

Bucky made you cum harder than ever, crying his name till you didn't have any strength and you were just a sack of bones under his expert mouth, devouring you and drinking your juices as if it was the elixir of life. And when he was satiated, you glanced at him using the tip of his tongue to trail a path up crossing your abdomen, the gap between your breasts, your throat, until kissing you again getting comfortable on top of you. It was a kiss full of love, and guiltiness, and necessity, and pure devotion for you.

“Did I hurt you with what I said?” You murmured, still enraptured by the fireworks fluttering within your belly.

“This isn't 'bout me”. Bucky clicked his tongue, hiding his face into your sweaty neck. “This is 'bout what I let happen”.

“That doesn't answer my question, Buck… I'm sorry about what I said. I was just… I feel insecure". You confessed stroking his scalp and back with your hands, lacing your legs together. “I didn't mean it. I would never try to… find someone who respects me more than you do. That's impossible. And not talking about how much you love me”.

“I love you with every inch of myself”. He swore, he promised, raising his face to look straight at your eyes. “I can't imagine a life without you”.

“Me either… Your love makes me feel alive”.

Bucky left one last tender kiss on your lips before suddenly standing up and holding you onto his arms to carry you to the bathroom and take a shower together —wash your hair, worship your body again as if it was the last thing he was going to do—.

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ppersonna · 4 years ago

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my only wish - knj | m

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

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

✹ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw

✹ pairing- kim namjoon x reader

✹ word count- 15.1k OOF

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

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

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

There are few things you hate most in this world.

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

But nothing takes the cake more than two simple things:

Christmas.

And Kim Namjoon.

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

And don’t even start on Kim Namjoon.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, Mr. Kim?”

“I’ve got a case for you.”

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

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

“I know you won’t let me down.”

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

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

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

Personal Injury Suit.

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

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

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

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

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

He looks over the documents and sucks his teeth.

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

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

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

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

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

“I know, babe. I know.”

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

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

“Yeah! Fighting!” Jimin cheers.

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

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

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

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

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

“I am her grandchild, Mom.”

She’s silent for a moment.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Namjoon, I’m just conce-”

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

There’s a stunned silence on the other end.

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck.”

He drops his phone to his wooden desk and grimaces.

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

There’s Jennie, his ex.

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

His last hookup, Jihoo?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“God, Jimin, come on.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah? The IT guy?”

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

He scrambles to grab the phone out of your hand.

“You literally refuse to do anything I ask.”

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

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

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

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

“How's the new computer?”

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

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

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

That laugh is the sultry demon himself, Kim Namjoon.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I have my own coffee.”

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

“Looks fancy.”

You purse your lips and clutch your coffee even closer.

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

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

“Fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck off.”

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

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

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

“I need a favor.”

“No.” Your answer is quick.

Namjoon looks up at you in surprise.

“You haven’t even heard it yet!”

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

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

“You’ve got to help me. Please.”

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

“Fine, I’ll bite. What is it?”

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

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

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

Your eyes widen, and your mouth falls agape.

“You—You what?!”

Namjoon sighs and lowers his voice.

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

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

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

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

Well, his fake girlfriend.

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

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

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

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

Namjoon steps back and moves towards the coffee machine again.

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

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

“How d'you know about them?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

With an aggravated sigh, you relent.

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

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

“Deal?” He murmurs.

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

“Deal.”

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

Jimin doesn’t let you live it down.

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

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

Flopping into the couch beside him, you sigh.

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

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

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

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

“Then tell me, what was the deal?”

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

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

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

“Wow,” he breathes.

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

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

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

“Shut up!” You cry.

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

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

Jimin’s cheeks immediately turn a shade of rouge.

“Yoongi? Yoongi who?”

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

Jimin swallows a large swig of his wine.

“Oh. Yes, I did.”

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

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

“Jimin!” You huff. “The computer?!”

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

“I… might have forgotten to ask.”

Your mouth drops open.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You playfully slap at Jimin’s thigh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, good morning to you, sunshine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jimin kicks at your foot again.

“Stop talking,” he grumbles.

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

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

“Right now?!” You ask, incredulous.

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

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

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

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

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

“Jimin, I swear to God.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes. Call Yoongi.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Even if it is... well, fake.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Namjoon smiles as he sips his cappuccino.

“I got you a fresh one.”

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

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

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

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

Namjoon settles his cup down.

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

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

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

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

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

He stifles a laugh.

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

With a dramatic sigh, you agree.

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

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

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

You level a look.

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

Namjoon can’t help but snort a laugh.

“I meant after that.”

You shrug as you settle back into the seat.

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

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

A scowl comes over your face.

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

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

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

He shrugs and scooches his mug around the carbonate table.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Already?!”

“We’re burning daylight, baby.”

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

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

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

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

“No, we’ll take my Range Rover.”

You roll your eyes and grimace.

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

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

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

Christmas shopping with Namjoon is mostly painless.

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

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

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

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

Why do things feel so easy with him?

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

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

It’s confusing.

It’s amazing.

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

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

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

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

It’s infuriating and wonderful all at once.

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

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

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

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

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

Namjoon sucks his teeth and nudges you.

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

You stick your tongue out at him playfully.

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck you, Namjoon.”

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

“In due time, my love.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Which means waking up to Kim Namjoon.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ugh. Unbelievable.

Namjoon has even made you actually enjoy Christmas.

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

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

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

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

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

And then it will be over.

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

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

Nothing more.

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

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

Fuck.

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

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

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, my son, I’ve missed you.”

Namjoon kisses the crown of her head and smiles.

“Missed you too, eomma.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Because this is all fake.

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

“Yeah,” you nod. “I’m great.”

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

Namjoon blushes a shade of red that likely matches a blush on your own cheeks. Sure enough, the green branches of the mistletoe taunt you from above.

You’ve never kissed Namjoon before. In all the skinship and closeness of the last week, you’ve still yet to close the gap to kissing the man.

“Oh, come on Kook, that’s a stupid tradition,” Namjoon murmurs awkwardly, rubbing at the back of his neck.

Jungkook smirks as he steps up next to you.

“Well, if you’re not going to do it, I’d be more than happy to take your place.”

Jungkook wraps a loose arm around you and gives you a charming smile. He must be very popular with the ladies, you think. That’s a charming smile.

“Hey!” Namjoon grabs for your hand and tugs you out of Jungkook’s predatory gaze. “She’s my girlfriend.”

Namjoon looks at you for a moment, assessing your comfort level with everything about to take place. His lips look so inviting, so plush and warm. Now that you’re thinking about kissing him, you can’t help but focus on the way his lips pucker so gently and naturally.

And then it happens. Namjoon lowers his face towards you and it feels as if the world is in slow-motion. It’s happening.

The first press of his lips is soft and conservative. You take a split second to register, but instinctively you press against his lips with determination and wrap your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss.

He groans softly as you trail your tongue out to seek purchase in his mouth, and he opens for you without hesitation. His hands grip at your waist and bring your body flush against his. You can feel his cock twitching and rising from the kiss that’s gone from innocent and playful to passionate and deep. It feels like the world around you has stopped and the only thing that matters is Namjoon, his mouth, his body against your own. He tastes like hot chocolate and peppermint, and you want more, more.

“Oh my god, stop,” Jungkook’s voice shatters your illusion of being all alone with Namjoon. “Now you’re just showing off.”

Namjoon pulls away from you, eyes dazed as he tries to right himself.

“You two are just so perfect for each other,” Namjoon’s mother says, who’s suddenly appeared in Jungkook’s place. “Let me show you your bedroom.”

“Oh, we’re sharing?” You ask without thought. It’s a large house, with ample bedrooms surely for you to have your own space.

Namjoon nudges you in the ribs gently, eyes widening and mouthing a ‘what the fuck do you mean?’

“Of course dear, don’t be silly,” his mother replies with an eyebrow waggle and a chuckle. “I remember when your father and I were dating. He would sneak into my room after my parents went to bed and keep me up all night long. Your grandfather would ask me if I had terrible dreams that night, because I looked so tired.”

Namjoon makes a face. “Eomma, please,” he begs. “Please don’t talk about my parents like that.”

As his mother guides you down a long hallway, your mind is whirring with too many thoughts of Namjoon, of sharing a bedroom with Namjoon, of seeing his sleeping face and waking up next to him. It’s all too much, too overwhelming. You pray there’s a couch in the room you could sleep on, because you’re far too weak and you’d rather fight the desperation in your body than face the fact that you want nothing more than to curl right into Namjoon’s strong arms and let him hold you all night to sleep.

Fuck.

“Here we are!”

His mother opens the door with grace, and flicks on the light. The room is beautiful in its simplicity. A king sized bed, a fireplace, and a balcony with a view of the sprawling snowy scene outside. It’s cozy and warm and decorated with its own Christmas tree.

“Wow,” is all you can muster.

“Aish, Mom,” Namjoon sighs as he drops his bags. “You didn’t need to do all of this for us.”

Mrs. Kim holds his hand in both of hers. “Well, I know how special this Christmas is going to be,” she winks. “I want you to enjoy your time here. Now, I’ll leave you two alone for a bit. Dinner is in an hour, so ‘freshen up’!”

Another wink, and Namjoon makes another face. She definitely wants grandchildren, that much is for certain.

She closes the door behind her and you’re left standing in the room, overnight bag in hand.

“This is—Wow, this is amazing.”

You’ve never experienced Christmas like this—with decorations and warmth and family. It’s as if the love of the Kim family permeates the very walls of the expansive cabin, like it’s built into the foundation itself. For a moment, you allow yourself to soak it all in. This is all yours. It’s your Christmas and you finally understand why so many make such a fuss over it. The results are nothing short of remarkable.

“Yeah, she really does the most,” Namjoon laughs.

He takes the bag from your hand without your notice and you step towards the balcony to peer into the night. The landscape looks as if everything has been covered in soft marshmallow. The snow is untouched—picture perfect.

“I’ve never had anything like this before.”

Namjoon settles your bag and his on the bed, watching as you soak in your own wonder. The smile on your face is not one he sees often, one of pure joy. Namjoon swallows hard as he realizes he wants to be the one to always put that smile on your face.

“Not such a Scrooge after all, eh?”

You turn from the still-life view outside and back to Namjoon, where he stands at the foot of the bed. He looks so different outside the office. He’s wearing skinny jeans and a flannel shirt, his puffy jacket hanging by the door. No cream suit, no slicked back hair or shoes shiny enough to see your reflection. Just simply Namjoon.

He’s no longer the man who steals the limelight in the office. He’s no longer the man you see as your adversary or your rival.

He’s the man who’s showing you the magic of Christmas, the spirit of love and kindness that embodies the season.

He’s the man you’ve fallen in love with.

And yet, he’s the man who will leave once this is over and return to his proper life, and you to yours. He’ll return to sleeping with models and movie starlets, and you’ll return to binge watching Great British Bake-Off with Jimin and a carton of Chicken Tikka Masala.

And Christmas will never feel as special as it does now.

So, you’re determined to soak in it for a little longer. It’s going to hurt regardless, so why not push that hurt off until tomorrow and allow yourself to pretend you live the lie you’re spinning for Namjoon’s family?

“I think I’ll just freshen up and change into my dinner outfit, then?” You ask out loud, grabbing for your overnight bag and heading towards the ensuite.

Namjoon, who expected a witty retort, takes a moment to reply.

“Oh,” he coughs. “Yeah, sure. I’ll err—, I’ll just get ready out here.”

You quickly escape into the bathroom, closing the door and resting on it as you exhale a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

The tension in the bedroom with Namjoon was too thick, too powerful, especially after the kiss you just shared. His cock had been there, straining in his jeans as you licked into his mouth. The kiss felt so natural, as if you had always kissed Namjoon like that. Your heart beats loud and hard in your chest just from the thought of it.

You really needed to get a handle over yourself. You still have dinner to get through, and an entire night in a bedroom with Namjoon. A bed with Namjoon.

No, you won’t allow yourself to go that far. You can pretend you’re his girlfriend, but all thoughts of his delectable body doing scintillating things to yours is strictly off-limits. You shake all thoughts of a thick, heavy cock sliding into your mouth and warm hands spreading you open, and set about fixing your makeup and changing into the gorgeous cocktail dress you purchased for the occasion. It wasn’t often you got to get dressed up. The emerald green velvet dress clings to your body and highlights your curves. It’s a sexy dress, definitely, but also appropriate for a formal evening with your boyfriend’s parents.

Well, your fake boyfriend. Right.

After fixing your hair and buckling your heels, you take one last glimpse in the mirror for good luck and exit the room.

Your breath is nearly knocked out of your lungs as you see Namjoon.

You’ve seen him dressed up for court and for TV appearances millions of times, but you’ve never seen him like this.

He wears a blood red button up without a tie, a few buttons open to emphasize the casual look, tucked into the tightest and sexiest slacks you’ve ever seen. They hug his thighs and sit at a spot on his waist that you just know is rippling with cut lines from his work in the gym. His hair is tucked back with a bit of hairspray, and he’s fixing the sleeves of his shirt when he sees you.

His eyes widen and his hands fall to his sides as he soaks in your appearance.

An absolute vision.

He can see the gentle valley between your breasts and the way your dress pushes up your cleavage and displays your collar. The dress follows the delicate curve of your waist and hips and ends at your knee, but teases him with a glimpse of thigh that has him wiping his mouth in case he’s drooling.

“You look incredible,” Namjoon murmurs as you step closer.

“So do you.”

You swallow hard as he continues closer to you, breathing harshly as he stands right in front of you. You could reach out and unbuckle his expensive slacks and fist his cock right there. You’d fall on your knees for him, if he asked.

There’s a moment of silence as Namjoon’s face inches closer and closer to your own, each unable to verbalize just how desperate either of you feel for the other.

“Namjoon, I—,” you start. You want to tell him. You want to tell him everything—that you don’t want this to be fake, that you want this to be real, and you want to be his and his forever.

“Yes?”

You swallow hard, shaken by just how close his lips are to yours. He’s inches away and all you can focus on is the way his plush lips look and how well they fit against your own under the mistletoe.

“I just—, I really um, I’m just very…”

You’re not making sense. Comprehension of language is quickly soaring out the window because the only words you know are ‘Please, for the love of God, kiss me and make me yours’, but you can’t bring yourself to speak them out loud.

Namjoon’s hand cups your cheek, as if he can tell what you’re trying to say.

“Yeah,” he breathes. The inches between you turn to centimeters, to bare millimeters. Your eyes flutter close as you feel his breath dance over your lips and your heart beats so loud you’re sure the entire household can hear it. He’s right there and moves in to close the distance—

“Knock Knock!!”

The forceful, cheery voice of cousin Jungkook forces both of you to jump away from each other as if you’ve touched a burning stove. Your head feels light, like you’ve forgotten to breathe for the last ten minutes and you’ve suddenly taken in too much air.

The wooden door squeaks open and Jungkook pokes his head in, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Auntie sent me to get you. It’s dinnertime!”

Namjoon rubs his face frustratedly. “Yes, thank you, Jungkook.”

Jungkook doesn’t leave, however. He smiles at you and winks.

“Would you like an escort to dinner, madame? You look tastier than the roast beef downstairs.”

A blush creeps over your cheeks as Namjoon storms to the door where his cousin laughs.

“That’s enough, Kook. We’ll be down in a minute.”

He sends you one more grin, then retreats from the door and closes it behind him.

“Sorry about that,” Namjoon apologizes. You’re not sure what he’s apologizing for—Jungkook, or the moment before.

“It’s alright. Let’s go?”

Namjoon nods and holds out his hand with a smile.

“Let’s go, girlfriend.”

Dinner with the Kim family is as delightful as every other interaction with them has been. They’re polite and funny and ask questions about your life and your family.

They ask how you met Namjoon (at work), what your favorite quality about him is (his smile and his ass), and what your first date together was (coffee at seven in the morning).

You tell stories of Namjoon in the office, of your best friend Park Jimin who’s secretly trying to date the IT manager, of your parents and Christmases past.

By the time dessert is served, Namjoon’s mother looks at you as if you’ve put the very stars in the sky.

Namjoon doesn’t miss that look either. He can see the way his family is falling in love with you and somewhere deep in his stomach, he feels the guilt rising. All of this is a lie. Not only is he going to break his own heart, but every heart of his family member’s too.

“We’re all just so overjoyed that Namjoon has found someone to share his life with,” his mom speaks softly. It’s the first time she’s been thoughtful and quiet. She’s a woman who’s larger than life, you’ve found, so the softness in her tone strikes a chord. “You’re absolutely perfect for him. I’ve never seen him happier.”

Fuck.

“Thank you,” you murmur sincerely to his mother. “I’ve never been happier.”

Namjoon peers up from where he’s been pushing around his uncle’s famous chocolate cake on his plate to watch as you speak.

“Truthfully, I never cared much for Christmas. I thought it was a rubbish holiday and spent it alone every year with a bottle of wine and some takeout. Namjoon really changed that for me,” you smile at the man and place your hand in his lap to hold his free hand. “He showed me more about Christmas in one week than I’ve felt in my entire life.”

Namjoon’s mom wipes away an errant tear and he squeezes your hand under the table.

“I guess the Grinch’s heart has grown 3 sizes, after all.”

Namjoon’s joke lightens the soft mood, and suddenly there’s chatter around as the family members move about to wash dishes and clean up the mess of dinner. Everyone leaves the table except for you and Namjoon.

“That was some good acting,” he whispers with a sad smile.

“Right,” you whisper back, nibbling your lip anxiously. “Acting, of course.”

You should have thought through the bedroom sharing thing more.

Because sharing a bedroom is one thing.

And sharing a bed is another.

And of course, the only pajamas you thought to bring tonight is a very sexy long shirt that says “no coffee, no talking” with a bedazzled pair of shushing lips. That’s it. Just a single shirt. Not even a pair of shorts or pajama pants.

You slip into the bed first, as far onto one side of it as possible. It’s a king sized bed, and it still feels too intimate, too close.

Namjoon exits the bathroom after his shower, rubbing at his wet hair with a towel. He’s shirtless, wearing only a pair of flannel pajamas, leaving his bare chest on display.

Sweet lord in heaven, you nearly cry out loud. He’s absolutely ripped, pecs defined and droplets of water from his hair streaming down. You want to chase each drop with your tongue and circle back again. You shut your eyes tight and clench your teeth. Why, oh why, does he have to look so fucking sexy at a time like this?

Namjoon sees you at the edge of the bed, shutting your eyes closed like you’re a shy schoolgirl afraid to see a naked man’s body. He feels guilty for making you be here. He knows you’ve likely got better things to do than spend time with a man you openly hate.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes for nothing in particular.

You ignore it. Instead, you’re trying to think of every un-sexy thing in the world you can possibly imagine. Taxes, a bunch of bees, old people, shark attacks.

There’s absolutely nothing that can stop the image of Namjoon’s perfectly sculpted body from bursting into your mind. You’re nearly pleading with yourself to just go to sleep and contemplate how hard you’d need to hit your head to knock yourself out as fast as possible.

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” he says as he grabs a small throw blanket from the closet and throws it to the ground by the fire.

It snaps you from your musings of how best to forget how badly you want to suck Namjoon’s cock through his pajama pants.

“What?” You sit up in the posh bed and finally make eye-contact. “Why? It’s freezing. There’s a literal snowstorm outside.” You motion to the window of the balcony. What was once a gentle snowfall is now a full-on winter storm.

“There’s a fire. I’ll be fine, I sleep hot anyway.” Namjoon’s voice is low and without energy. He almost sounds sad.

God, is being with you that hard for him? You know you’re just the artificial replacement until he has the real thing, but you’d actually hoped Namjoon had found it as comforting and warm as you had.

“Namjoon,” you sigh. “This is a king-sized bed. You don’t need to be waking up with back pain because you gallantly slept on the floor.”

To emphasize your point, you tug back the blankets on the other side, beckoning him to join.

He hesitates for a moment, as if he’s weighing the pro’s and con’s and sliding into bed next to you in his mind, then stands and pads his way on the plush carpet towards the bed and slips in.

There’s an entire football field of distance between you two in the bed, but it feels like he’s right beside you. You imagine sliding in right next to him, wrapping your arms around his taut chest and pressing soft kisses to his stomach.

You squeeze your eyes closed again. Stop it, you horny slut.

“Thank you, again.” Namjoon breaks the silence. “I really appreciate you helping me out.”

“Yeah,” you swallow hard. “Of course. What else was I going to do? Jimin’s probably sucking Yoongi’s dick right now, so I’d be watching baking shows alone.”

Namjoon laughs for a moment, then quiets.

“You know, I don’t even really want that promotion at work.”

You’re surprised by the sudden change in topic, but you turn over to face Namjoon.

“What?! Really?”

Namjoon nods and stares at the ceiling. “I don’t think I’m that good of an attorney to get it, anyway.”

His statement makes you sit up in bed again, staring at the man in disbelief.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Namjoon? You’re the best lawyer in the firm.”

Namjoon says nothing, just turns to stare at you curiously as you continue.

“You’re like… literally better than Seokjin, too. The way you handled the Taehyung case was nothing short of historical. Like, that was an impossible case, and you nailed it. That was your ‘OJ’ case, you know?”

Namjoon barks a laugh.

“My what?”

“Your OJ case!” You use your hands to emphasize the importance of what you’re saying. “Like, they’ll write about you and how impossible the odds were of winning that case. And you won it! Not even Seokjin could have won that case.”

He’s silent again, watching as you speak directly from your heart with all the fire and passion you feel about the things you care about. It’s what makes you such an incredible lawyer, too.

“Wow,” he breathes. “Thank you.”

You settle back down from your excitement, suddenly bashful at how fanatical you became.

“You’re welcome,” you murmur. “You deserve that promotion. And the office.”

Namjoon smirks.

“And the Nespresso?”

Your eyes narrow and send a glare to him he can see even with the faintest of light in the room.

“No, no one deserves the Nespresso, except for me.”

He chuckles and settles down into his pillows.

“Goodnight,” he whispers.

“Goodnight, Namjoon.”

There’s a beat of silence and your eyes flutter shut easily. It’s quiet, and all you can hear is the crackle of the log in the fireplace and the wind blowing past the balcony windows as the storm outside rages.

“Oh,” Namjoon whispers again. “And, Merry Christmas.”

You can’t fight the smile that creeps onto your face.

“Merry Christmas, Joonie.”

“Happy Christmas!” A voice bellows through your bedroom at approximately seven fifteen am.

You groan, immediately grimacing and burying your face into your firm, warm pillow.

“Nooooo,” you whine, trying to hide from the offending noise.

Namjoon shakes awake, and notices Jungkook standing at the bedroom door once again.

“It’s time for presents!” He giddily explains. “And, they gave me the job of waking you two up.”

“Of course,” Namjoon yawns.

“You look a little wrapped up,” Jungkook smirks, eyeing your sleeping body. “I’ll give you two a minute. Don’t get distracted.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes and watches as the door closes, before he turns his attention towards you.

Somehow, in the middle of the night, you’ve scooched yourself to his side of the bed and draped your body around his. Your face is buried in his chest and your legs are haphazardly intertwined in his own.

He bites his lip. His cock is rock solid, not just from his usual morning wood, but from the way he can feel your tits through your shirt, and from the sight of your pink panties. Namjoon wants to take them off with his teeth and bury his face in your delicious cunt, and his cock is nearly screaming at him to get on with it.

“Hey,” he whispers to you, actively ignoring the demon that is his turgid length. “Wake up.”

This causes you to cling harder to his chest, rubbing your sleepy face on him.

“What is it with you and early mornings?” You ask, blearily raising your head to peer at him judgementally.

Namjoon bites his lip, curious about your reaction to the tight embrace you’ve got on him. He doesn’t want to say anything, doesn’t want to break the spell. Frankly, he wants to push your sleep shirt up and stuff you full of his cum.

“Merry Christmas?” He offers shyly.

You take a full minute to recognize what’s happening.

You’re no longer on your edge of the bed. You’re wrapped around the man like a koala, legs strewn over him without care and clinging to him like he’s a lifeline.

“Oh!” You gasp as you jerk out of his grasp.

In your movement, your leg brushes over an obvious tent in Namjoon’s pants, making him groan softly. You shut your eyes, embarrassed at how disgustingly horny you are for the man who’s not even interested in you sexually.

“Christ, I’m so sorry,” your cheeks flame bright red and you scoot further from him.

“No, no, don’t be,” Namjoon wheezes as he tries to fix himself. “It’s fine. It’s more than fine. It’s great. It happens. Don’t worry.”

He continues to stammer out reassurances as he leaves the bed and bolts into the bathroom to fix his unruly tented pants, leaving you sitting atop the bed washed with shame.

“Fucking hell,” you whisper to yourself as you rub at your cheeks. “Get a grip of yourself.”

Inside the bathroom, it only takes Namjoon a few fisted jerks of his cock and the mental image of you beneath him, begging for him, until he’s silently cumming on an expensive towel. He bites his free hand to stifle the moans he makes as his cock pulses.

By the time he arrives back in the bedroom, you’ve changed into a hoodie and yoga leggings that accentuate your ass so delectably that Namjoon thinks about turning right back into the bathroom for a second round.

“I’m sorry!” You nearly shout when he walks into the room. “About the bed. You were warm and I was cold. That’s all.”

Nmajoon simply nods, doesn’t want to have to explain how he wishes he could wake up like that every day. Doesn’t want to describe in vivid detail how he’d wake you up with his tongue buried deep in your cunt.

“Let me grab a shirt and we’ll head out, yeah?”

Your eyes dance over the defined ridges of his body, a little crest-fallen at the idea that this might be the last time you see him shirtless, but you nod anyway.

“Yeah.”

The ring box sits in a deceptively large box beneath the tree. Namjoon wrapped it last night and hide it at the very back. His heartbeat hammers in his ears as his family passes around gifts and opens each with squeals of delight.

His mother gave him new ties for the office, ones that Namjoon prefers. She’s even gifted you with jewelry, which makes your eyes water at the sentiment.

It all begins to be too much. It’s harder and harder to hold back the tears as each of Namjoon’s family members gives you gifts. It doesn’t matter the value, not at all. The fact that they specifically set out to include you in their gift-unwrapping makes your heart snap in two.

This is all too much, it’s too real.

It’s everything you never dreamed you could have. A loving partner who lets you sit in the space of his legs and rubs your arms soothingly. A family who goes out of their way to include you in the abundance of love and company. A cabin so warm and cozy.

The tears don’t stop.

It’s at the end of the gift exchange that you finally allow yourself to breathe.

“There’s one more,” Namjoon whispers as he moves from behind you and fetches a large box from behind the tree. “It’s for you, princess.”

Curiously, and suspiciously, you eye him as he sets the enormous gift in your lap. You had done nearly all his Christmas shopping with him, and can’t remember a single thing he would have gotten for you.

“I hope it’s the Nespresso from your office,” you snark with a smile. His family members all laugh and exchange knowing looks to each other.

Namjoon doesn’t think he can breathe. He watches as you begin to carefully unwrap the large box, which reveals another box, slightly smaller. He can’t help but grin as you continue to unwrap the nesting-doll style gift until you’re down to the smallest one, the one that holds the ring box.

With one last tear of paper, your eyes widen as you recognize the velvet box.

“Oh--,” you breathe as you delicately pry open the gift.

Inside sits a dazzling and gorgeous diamond ring. It catches the light from the fire and sparkles like a firecracker.

“Oh my god,” you whimper as the tears flow again.

He’s proposing.

Namjoon settles himself onto one knee and tucks an errant piece of hair behind your ears.

“You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me. I knew from day one that you were always the girl I wanted to marry,”

Namjoon’s speech sends daggers to your heart. He’s so convincing for something so counterfeit.

“I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember, much longer than we’ve been together. You’re who I want to come home to every night, and who I want to wake up with every morning.”

It hurts. It hurts so badly that you’re crying even harder as he continues to speak. His family must think you’re simply overcome with emotion and love that the crying doesn’t give it away, but inside you’re absolutely dying.

There’s no way you can recover from this.

Tomorrow, Namjoon will take the ring back to where he got it from and return to what he had before. He’ll leave you behind, broken and hopelessly in love with a man who faked a relationship so well that you fell for it, hard.

“____, will you marry me?”

You take several large, gulping gasps to reply. You can’t shatter the illusion. Namjoon’s parents are weeping with joy, while his relatives record the moment on their phones and wipe away errant tears. Even Jungkook looks soft, proud of his cousin for taking the next step in his life.

Oh, how you wish this were all real.

“Yes,” you lie with a smile. “Yes, Namjoon, of course!”

Namjoon grins and pulls you to standing, gathering you in his arms as he hugs you tight. His family cheers and hollers in the background, and you sob into his shoulder as you cling to him.

He easily slides the diamond ring out of the box and onto your finger, where it sits and taunts you. The weight is heavy, and you whimper at the realization that this will never be for you. It will sit atop a pretty model’s finger sometime soon, when Namjoon resumes his regular life.

“Oh, my darlings, I am so happy for you!” Namjoon’s mother appears and wraps you both in a hug, weeping and kissing cheeks. “We must discuss planning!”

It’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back. The tears and weeping turn to wracking sobs, which quiets the family as they watch you hold your face in your hands.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize through your grief. “I—I just need a moment.”

Without another word, you turn from the scene and bolt back towards the bedroom.

It’s silent and Namjoon’s heart sinks.

This must be too much for you, too much for you to pretend to love him. He knew it was too much and he should have discussed it with you beforehand.

“She’s just a little err--,” Namjoon tries. “Easily emotional. I’ll go check on her.”

His family understands as Namjoon hurries towards the bedroom and gently opens the door.

You’re sitting over your overnight bag, trying to shove any clothing into it you can, while you sob openly.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I should have told you. I sort of... told my mom I’d be proposing to my girlfriend.”

There’s pain in your eyes as you snap your head up to look at him. It nearly destroys him.

“You should have warned me!” You gasp. “Namjoon, I can’t do this.”

Namjoon lowers his head and shoves his hands into his pockets of his pajama pants.

“I get it. I know you want to go back to your regular life. I can take you home now.”

You’re silent for a moment, standing and moving towards the man.

“Don’t you get it, Namjoon?”

He raises his head to look at you curiously, brow knitted together with confusion.

“I’m in love with you, you asshole!” You cry, pushing at his chest. “I can’t continue to pretend this is real anymore. I love you, I absolutely love you and I can’t go on watching you pretend you love me too. It’s too much for me to handle.”

Namjoon’s world freezes in time as he watches you slide the ring off your finger. He grasps your hand to stop you, his eyes boring into your own.

“I never had to pretend.”

Before you can speak, Namjoon cups your cheek and pulls you in close, mouth sealing over your own in a desperate kiss.

You don’t fight it, not at all. You sink into his grasp and kiss him back with fervor, with all the pent-up emotions you’ve held back all this time.

“I’m in love with you,” he whispers as he pulls away from the kiss. “I meant every single word I said.”

More tears stream down your cheeks, and Namjoon is quick to wipe them away with his thumb.

“I know it’s maybe too soon for us to really be engaged, but I—I want that, with you,” he adds. “I want you to be my girlfriend… for real.”

“Are you being serious right now?” You ask as your hands cling to Namjoon’s waist.

He can’t help but to laugh, nodding in reassurance as he leans down to press his lips to yours in a tender kiss.

“Never been more serious in my life.”

“I can’t believe you’re mine,” Joon murmurs into the nape of your neck.

You were supposed to be driving home to your apartment now, back to real life, but the snowstorm raged on and Namjoon decided it might be best to spend yet another night in the cabin. Together. As a couple. A real couple.

You didn’t put up much of a fight.

He’s pressing soft kisses into your tender skin as he closes the door to the bedroom.

“All mine, all mine.” He chants it like a mantra.

You’re trying to maneuver your way into the dark bedroom, only guided by the light from the fireplace. Namjoon stops you and pulls away from your neck, eyes soaking in every inch of you.

“You have no idea what I’ve been dying to do to you,” he speaks after a moment of appreciating your beauty.

“Hmm, I think I have some idea,” you say, a finger at Namjoon’s chest, directing him towards the bed. “I’ve been dying to suck your cock, Joon,” you whisper in his ear as he makes his way backwards. “Will you let me?”

Namjoon nods in a daze as he sits on the edge of the bed and watches as you kneel. Your eyes are full of hope, full of lust. It makes his cock harden further.

“Please do,” he breathes. “I’ve wondered what you’d look like with your mouth full of my dick.”

You smile as you tug at his flannel pajama pants, pulling them down thick thighs and calves until they’re completely off. Your mouth waters at the sight before you. Namjoon’s cock is thick, head weeping with pre-cum and straining hard against his taut chest. He’s been working out more, you can tell. His arms are full and strong, and his chest is so firm and defined.

He’s an entire three-course meal.

Before you move closer to his cock, Namjoon stops you.

“Take your shirt off.”

You comply easily, already settling well into an obedient role. He discards the shirt to the side and marvels at your breasts. He can’t wait to mark them up, suck them until you’re crying.

“Perfect,” he sighs. “You’re fucking perfect.”

He allows you to resume your work, eyeing the length of his cock before wrapping a hand around it and gently pumping.

“Shit,” he breathes as his head falls back. “I’ve dreamt about how it’d feel having my cock in your hands.”

“What else have you dreamed about?” You ask with a teasing smile, bringing your lips to the tip to paint tiny stripes. He tastes salty, somewhat earthy, and the pre-cum that’s gathered at the top gets swept up by your tongue.

Namjoon can’t believe how lucky he is. Can’t believe how incredible it feels to have you here, licking at his cock like a lollipop. He’s enchanted by the way your delicate tongue swirls around his head, testing and teasing.

“You look so good, princess,” he whispers as he tucks stray hair behind your ears.

You’re encouraged by his sweet-talk and soon descend to take his cock fully in as far as you can go. You’re definitely out of practice, but you steel yourself up to take him completely to the back of your throat. Namjoon’s desperate moans and cursing only encourages you further.

Soon enough, you’ve started a rhythm of bobbing your head and swirling your tongue and pumping your hand down his thick length. The noises leaving your mouth are sinful—slurping and sucking and whining around him. Namjoon’s got a hand on the back of your head, holding your hair in a makeshift ponytail and coaxing your bouncing head further down his cock.

“Oh, shit, baby,” he grits through a tight jaw. “I’m gonna cum baby girl, fuuuuckkk—oh god, yes baby, just like that.”

You slurp and swallow around his cock as much as you can, head bobbing at a frantic pace while you cast your eyes upwards to the man to watch him come apart. He meets your eye contact and loses it at the fire burning in your beautiful eyes.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he gasps as his cock pulses. “Cumming, baby—ohhhh, shit, take it all, baby.”

After slowing your pace completely, you sweetly moan around his length as his salty cum splatters on your tongue. Bringing Namjoon to climax with your mouth is already one of your favorite hobbies, and you’re desperate to do it again.

When he’s completely spent in your mouth, you pop off carefully and present your tongue to your boyfriend, who smiles.

“You gonna swallow my cum, baby girl?” He asks, cupping your cheek sweetly.

You nod in reply, and he groans as he watches you close your mouth and visibly swallow his load.

“Fuck, that was so hot. Fucking kiss me already,” he demands, pulling you up gently by the hand and pressing his mouth to yours. He doesn’t care if he can taste himself still lingering in your mouth. In fact, he thinks your mouth should always taste like him.

Namjoon holds you close as he kisses you, tongue diving around and seeking purchase in your mouth. His hands are roaming your body, cupping your breasts and caressing your curves. He can’t get enough. He doesn’t think there will come a time in his life when he won’t love touching you.

His hand smoothes over the satin of your panties and he smirks into the kiss as he feels how wet they are.

“Oh my,” he tuts as he rubs at your clothed slit. “All this from sucking my cock, princess?”

It’s too late to be ashamed of it. You simply nod and whimper as his thick fingers rub at your core. You’re dying to feel those fingers inside you, scissoring you open to prepare you for his massive cock.

“P-please,” you gasp, needing more of him. “Please, Joon.”

He lets out a breath of contentment, loving the way his name sounds in your breathy moans. In one quick swoop, he flings your panties off and onto the floor and slides down to his knees where you knelt moments before.

“I want to see this pretty pussy up close,” he murmurs as he lays you out at the edge and spreads open your thighs as wide as he can.

You’re gorgeous, absolutely mouth-watering. He licks his lips as he watches your folds drip with arousal and takes a delicate finger to trace the slit gently.

“Fuck,” you gasp as he swirls his finger around your sensitive clit. It’s been so long since someone else has made you orgasm, you’re sure you won’t last a second with the man of your sexual dreams face-first in your cunt.

“This is my pussy now,” he states as he leans in close and licks a fat stripe from your hole to your clit. “I’m going to make you cum every fucking night, baby. Gonna claim this cunt as my own.”

You’re trembling from his words and his actions as he soon buries his face into your pussy and eats as if he’s a man starved. His tongue swirls around your hole before swiping up to your clit, making your back arch and keen off the bed. His lips wrap around your throbbing clit and sucks gently, lewd noises echoing off the walls of the bedroom.

“Namjoon!” You squeal as he slides two of his fingers inside you and slowly pumps. They’re thick and perfect, and they’re better than you could have ever dreamed.

“Cum for me, baby,” he coaxes as he licks at your clit. “I know you want to.”

He’s right. You’re desperate for it and the string inside your belly that tightens with each thrust of his solid fingers has it nearing a snapping point.

Namjoon speeds up, adds a third finger and fucks into you like a man on a mission. He watches your face pinch in agonized delight and is hypnotized by the way your tits bounce with each thrust up. His cock is rock solid again, aching to bury itself deep inside your womb and coat you with his cum.

“That’s it, baby girl,” he breathes as he watches your body quiver. “Cum on my fingers, let daddy see you fall apart.”

He presses his lips to your clit one last time and sucks, and it sends you reeling over the edge into bliss. Namjoon moans as he feels your cunt convulse and squeeze his fingers as if they’re his cock, and he nearly whines at how good it’s going to feel when he’s balls deep inside of you.

“Fuck!” You cry as your back lifts off the bed and your legs shake. “Oh, my god!”

Namjoon kitten licks at your pussy as you come down, cleaning up the juices that coat his fingers. He doesn’t break eye contact with you as he does it, sucking up your essence like it’s an expensive wine he won’t waste a drop of.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he says as you try to catch your breath. “I can’t wait to fuck you in my office.”

The smile on your face turns lustful as you spread your legs open once again and present yourself to him.

“Why don’t we practice right now?”

Namjoon grips the base of his cock and gives himself a few pumps as he stares at your gorgeous body—laid out and ready for him.

“Merry Christmas to me,” he murmurs as he presses a kiss to your lips and lines himself up.

In one swift motion, he slips inside your juicy channel and buries himself to the hilt. You’re so wet and warm and tight that Namjoon falters and groans out loud.

“Holy shit,” he cries. “Sweetest fucking pussy I’ve ever felt in my life.”

Namjoon filling you up to the brim is something you’ve only ever dreamt of, and now that it’s happening you feel intoxicated. He’s so thick inside you, stretching you past what you thought you could handle, and the burn is so sweet.

“Fuck me, Joon,” you beg as he continues to still inside you. “Please, fuck me, daddy.”

It’s the magic word for Namjoon and instantly he’s snapped back to feral, ready to claim you as his own. He grips your hips tightly as he pumps in and out of you, delighted by the squelching juicy sounds of your cunt as he takes you.

“That’s right, baby girl, I’m your fucking daddy,” he grunts. “Take this fat cock for daddy.”

Your legs quiver with each thrust and Namjoon sucks a nipple into his mouth, nibbling gently on the bud which makes your body thrum with electricity. He’s marking you, claiming you inside and out, you realize. You whine and keen for him to continue, and Namjoon growls as he doubles his pace.

He thrusts into you without abandon, desperately seeking his release that will have him spilling his cum anywhere he possibly can.

“Mmm, look at my pretty princess,” he groans as he stares at your blissed-out face. “Taking daddy’s cock so good, being a perfect little slut.”

His words make your eyes roll back into your head. You’d never had someone speak so nasty to you while being so kind and praise-worthy that you don’t think you can now ever live without it.

“G-gonna cum, daddy!” you cry as you feel your body nearing the edge. “Please let me cum!”

Namjoon gasps for air and drops a thumb to your clit to rub circles on the sensitive bundle.

“Yes, baby girl, cum for daddy. Cum on my cock, princess.”

Namjoon’s unrelenting pace and thumb handily stroking your clit brings you to the end, sending you screaming into orgasmic delight.

Namjoon nearly weeps at how good your cunt feels convulsing around his cock, walls coaxing him and gripping him tight as if your pussy is begging for his own release.

“Cum inside me daddy, please,” you beg as you try to catch your breath.

Namjoon needs no more permission. He gasps as your channel tightens around him impossibly and sends him into his own release. He whimpers as his cock pulses with ferocity, loads of cum splattering your walls.

He doesn’t pull out. Instead, he rests his sweaty forehead on yours as you both try to catch your breath.

“Holy shit,” you gasp as you feel yourself returning to Earth.

Namjoon laughs and presses a kiss to your lips, before nodding.

“Yeah,” is all he can manage.

After a few shuddering breaths, you wrap your arms around your boyfriend’s naked body and hold him close, as close as you can.

“If this is what Christmas is all about, sign me up.”

Namjoon buries his face into your neck and kisses you sweetly, before lifting and giving you a playful smile.

“I guess all Scrooge needed was a good fuck. Dickens got that part all wrong.”

Returning to work after the New Year was easier this year than it had ever been in your career.

Namjoon was given the promotion. He told Seokjin he wanted to keep his corner office near you because he “likes the view”, and that he would give all his top cases to the best lawyer in the office—you.

Jimin won’t stop screaming when he sees the diamond ring on your finger. You haven’t wanted to take it off since the moment you put it on. Maybe it’s not an engagement ring quite yet, maybe it’s just more of a promise. Either way, Jimin is ecstatic and confused as he shakes you down for answers.

He walks with you to your desk, chattering away about his week with Yoongi, while you sip your convenience store coffee.

“What the fuck?” Jimin asks as he notices something on your desk. “What is that?”

As you round the corner, your eyes catch sight of a gleaming silver contraption on your desk, right next to your brand new computer.

A Nespresso.

A smile crosses your lips as you approach the expensive machine and notice a folded up card on top.

Inside, the card is simple.

“To the only girl in the world who deserves a Nespresso. Love, Namjoon.”

taglist - @ardoren @devilion14 @bykookie @rageyoudamnednerd @holynamtiddies @thejooncrew @dee-ehn @yrc1963 @fireheart2003

#bts smut #bts fanfic #kim namjoon smut #rm smut #namjoon smut #ficswithluv #rockin around the christmas tropes #bts imagines #bts reactions #kim namjoon imagines

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cahrlotah · 2 years ago

Text

𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞

Hey bitch, I hope you like it! @eddiesdungeon

Word count: 1.9k

trigger warnings: cringey fluff, friends x lovers not really that much, accidental confession (?) No prove reading because i’m a lazy whore

Going back to my hometown after three years has made me feel some kind of way. Coming back to it where everything and everyone has changed but at the same time everything and everyone just stays the same. The people just have grown older while the buildings look a little bit worn down. Apart from all this Hawkins looked the same as it did three years ago, when my dad decided that it would be amazing for us to move out of state to New York city, just for better opportunities in life. But things didn’t work out as well as my dad had expected so now we are back in town.

The cold morning air enters my room sending shivers down my spine. It is mid October and the leaves are starting to fall down and some families have already started to decorate their front porches with Halloween decorations. I get ready quickly and go down stairs, where my parents are already waiting for me to have breakfast. We all eat in silence, my mum is mad at my dad so for the last couple of weeks she has been giving him the silent treatment.

When I open the front door cold air hits my face, provoking my cheeks to turn red. My body is filled with anxiety as going back to my old classmates is going to be weird, also having in mind I will have to see Eddie Munson again. My crush ever since I was seven and one of my closest friends, due to me moving away we have barely talked, after a few months we lost contact, so I’m definitely intrigued on what he is doing now.

The drive to Hawkins High is short, too short to even prepare myself to be the “new girl” at a small town high school. There are some people in the parking lot when I arrive, they all stare at me and start whispering, I try to ignore it. My way to the secretary’s office is just the scene from the parking lot but instead of ten people max now is almost the whole school. I walk as fast as I can trying to find my destination, when I crash into someone. We both fall to the floor. What a great start to a new school.

“Holy fuck, I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you” I help her pick her stuff up. When we finally make eye contact I can recognize one of my other friends, Chrissy Cunningham. Her look of surprise lets me know that she has recognized me.

“Oh my god! (Y/N)!” She hugs me tightly. “When did you come back into town?”

“Couple of days ago, I’ve been busy with all the moving in and emptying boxes and all that stuff” I say awkwardly as all her cheer friends are looking at us. `It was nice seeing you again but I really need to get to the secretary’s office and I don't know where it is, so I need to get going '' I rush to help her pick up the last papers that are laying on the floor.

“Let me take you there” she suggests as she locks her arm with mine. “Bye girls!” she says waving at the cheerleaders. Slowly we make our way through the empty halls as the empty. “Soooo” she starts “ how have you been, tell me everything about New york”. We both looked at each other.

“It was great, just too many people “ we both laugh. The secretary’s office is right next to a lab. “ I guess I will see you around?” I ask.

“ Sure! Come and sit with me during lunch today.” She sounds so excited and I Know I can’t say no to my old friend. She walks away, her ponytail moving from one side of her head to the other, in a couple of seconds she makes a turn disappearing from my sight. I knock on the door, a lady opens the door.

“You must be (Y/N) Murphy, right?”she questions, I nod my head. “ Here you go, your time table, your locker number and its combination. If you need more help please come here again and I will try to help you” she smiles at me, I thank her and look at the timetable, French in class 103, just down the hallway.

The morning classes go by super slowly, the only thing on my mind is to go home and sleep. When lunchtime comes, I try to find my locker just to find a group of boys in front of it, not allowing me to even open it.

“If you guys excuse me for a second I really need to use my locker” the all turn around, when I see the doe- eyed boy I’ve been missing for the last three years. “Eddie?” his gaze softens as he realizes who i am.

“Holy shit (Y/N)!” he wraps his arms around me, picking me up and spinning. “When did you come back?” he asks

“A couple of days ago. Sorry for not trying to contact you, I’ve been busy with all the “moving in” shit” I explain. We start chatting, not even caring about eating lunch.

“Do you want to meet up after class? You know to catch up and all that stuff” he asks scratching the back of his neck. “I mean you don't have to if you don't want to”

“ I would love it” I smile at him, but his friends start to complain that they need to do some meeting about a club they run. “ If you are busy I can wait until you finish” he nods and stats walking away

“I’ll be done around 6:30, is that okay with you?” I nod in agreement. He and his friends disappear, mixing in with the crowd of students. I leave some of the textbooks and notebooks in my locker and make my way towards the cafeteria. When I walk inside, Chrissy is waiting for me, we grab something to eat and start walking to where she would normally sit, a table full of basketball players and cheerleaders. After some introductions we all start talking about Halloween, what we are going to be , who is organizing the party and all that relates to it.

After lunch, the last two periods are fun but the time pases slowly. The last bell rings and Chrissy, literally forces me to go to her cheer practice giving me the excuse they need someone to fill up for a girl that has to go to the doctor. I insist that I don’t even know how to dance but she drags me by my arm, almost ripping it off. It doesn’t bother me that much, it is more of cringe that I fear the most, the failing.

The gym is spacious and full of light, cheerleaders are the only ones there. While the others warm up Chrissy and Amber teach me the routine. Some ass movement every now and then but not too scandalous. We spend the next two hours and a half rehearsing and just changing the choreography to make it look as good as possible. I look at the clock above one of the baskets seeing that it is almost six thirty. I excuse myself with the girls and run towards the parking lot. Just in time to see Eddie and his friends coming out from one of the doors. They are laughing, and walking towards their cars and bikes. The three that seem a little bit younger than Eddie leave the first in one old car that looks like it could break down at any time. The two youngest stay with Eddie chatting about something interesting. I slow my pace signing to the boys to act like they don’t see me, they play along and when I’m close enough to the black haired boy I cover his eyes, a smile forms in his face as he turns to look at me.

“Hi there m’lady” he bows. “Ready to spend the afternoon with me?” he says looking into my eyes.

“Hey you two, get a room. Eww” the curly haired boy exclaims.

“Dustin, shut it. I mean it” Eddie tries to be intimidating. The two young boys put their hands up, knowing that they can’t defeat Eddie.

“They are Mike and Dustin” he points at them “ the next additions of Hellfire club” he looks so cute when he talks about what he is proud of.

“Nice to meet you guys” I smile at them, then we start talking when out of the sudden Dustin looks at his watch and starts to freak out.

“Shit shit shit I need to go home I forgot I had to help my mom with my grandma” him and Mike go to unlock their bikes “ See you around (Y/N)” he shouts as they ride away leaving Eddie and I alone.

“ I was thinking we could go to the cinema, like the good old days” he says, and he looks nervous?

“I would love that Eddie” we make our way to Eddie’s van. “Umm Eddie can I ask you something?” he nods “ Why did you stop replying to my letters” I ask. He stops. “ I really don’t understand it and it really hurt me when you stopped replying '' the sadness in my voice is noticeable.

“ (Y/N) I-” he starts.

“Please don’t start with the excuses, just tell the truth. I think I deserve to know why.”

“ I started to think that you would eventually find some new friends and forget about me and I decided to be the one to make the first move just so I couldn’t get hurt by you forgetting about me”. Knowing Eddie, I know how hard it is for him to open up about his feelings.

“Eddie… Why would you think that? You are seriously my best friend. I could never replace you. Like for fucks sake you were my first crush ever, even when I was in New York I would still think about you and your stupid metal bands. And then when I saw you today, all those feelings just came back fuck Eddie, you still look amazing with those brown eyes of yours looking at me like I’m the only girl in the world” Fuck, did I just confess my feelings towards my best friend out of anger?! He looks surprised. “Shit fuck, forget I even said. I should have kept it to myself. Shit I just ruined our frienship fuck fuck fuck” I start to panic walking aroud in circles, he walks towards me, stops me by putting his ring filled hands on my shoulders, I stop locking my eyes with his. His gaze goes from my eyes to my lips and without me realizing he locks our lips together, his hands cupping my face. When he finally breaks the kiss he puts his forehead on mine.

“You didn’t ruin anything because I feel the same way you do.” he locks our hands together. “So, how about we rent some movies and go back to my trailer? You can spend the night if you want to” he asks.

“ That sounds amazing”, and with that, we both hop into his van driving away into the sunset.

#eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #i am an eddie munson simp and im proud #stranger things #eddie stranger things #joseph quinn #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #Eddie x fem!reader #best friend! eddie #eddie x f!reader #stranger things x reader

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buckystevelove · 3 years ago

Text

My Brightest Star

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word count: 2708

Warning: ANGST and fluff

A/N: This is my longest work. Please leave comments. Ask, submissions and requests are open.

A week, that’s how long has passed since Bucky’s world felt apart. He should have known, his whole life has been full of tragedy, one after the other. He had 7 years of happiness and peace, he will have to come to terms with the fact that maybe those years would be the only ones in his long and sad life that he would known what real and complete happiness really is.

He met you 7 years ago in a coffee shop, you accidentally tripped and spilled all your coffee in him. You apologized over and over again, Bucky couldn’t care less about the hot drink splatted all over his body, he was so enthralled over the beautiful woman standing in front of him, for years he thought that he would never get love, but you managed to prove him wrong. He claims that it was love at first sight, he simply knew that you were his soul mate.

After the incident, you bought his coffee as a symbol of forgiveness, though he really didn’t care. You exchanged names and phone numbers. Just a few hours later you received a massage from Bucky, inviting you to go for dinner the next day. Soon, one date turn to seeing each other every time you could. You felt for him, and hard. Eventually you met all of his friends, you became a great friend with Wanda and Nat. They would invite you to all the girl nights they had. You got along with Sam, always joking around and making pranks, same with Tony. You also became best friend with Steve, you had a strong relationship with him besides yours with Bucky. You too were like siblings, he always claimed that you were his little sister, and warned Bucky never harm you, or he would have to face the consequences.

Nobody was surprise nor bother when you moved to the compound with Bucky. Everyone was super exited to have you closer, that made Bucky a bit jealous.

You and Bucky were attached to the hip. One year into your relationship, he knew that he was going to marry you, you were going to be the mother of his children. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. You were the one, so he asked you to marry him.

It was so beautiful, he took you on a trip to the museum, your favorite place to spend the time. When you were in the sculptures room the kneeled and said; “YN, since the moment I saw you I knew that you were the one, I knew that I was going to marry you, and all you have done is prove me right. You are the love of my life, my partner, my best friend I can no longer imagine a future in which you are not in it, because YOU are my FUTURE. You have been the light at the end of the tunnel, you have brought me happiness, love I thought I no longer deserved after all the awful things I had done, you helped name realized who the real James Buchanan Barnes is, and who I want him to be. I want to be your husband because I love you so much. You are my entire world YN. So, would you marry me?”

At the end of his speech both of you had tears in your checks, you throw yourself over him and said yes over and over again, you were beaming.

6 months after that, many hours of planning and cake tasting, you and Bucky had the most beautiful fall wedding. It was perfect. Your family and the team was there, everyone was so happy for the two of you.

When the time to say the vowels came you couldn’t be more thrilled, you have been writing them for so long.

“James Buchanan Barnes, you are the love of my life. You have been the one who has taught me what love really is, what it is like to love someone with every single atom in my body. You have taught me what is like to be completely and uoughterly happy, that is how I feel when ever I am with you. James, when we met you told me that you only saw yourself as a monster, as the vilan of many people’s lives, but baby, you are my knight in shining armor, you are absolutely everything to me. You are the brightest star in my universe, the one and only. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, I want to tell you and show you how much I love you every day, I want you to feel how much I love you even after we are death. I want to keep loving you and choosing you a hundred of lives after this. Because Bucky, MY LOVE FOR YOU WILL NEVER END.”

At the end both of you were crying, among many other of your guests.

Your honeymoon was perfect. Tony paid the two of you a 3 weeks trip around Europe. Nine months later, you had your gorgeous daughter, Rebecca. She looked exactly like you, but her eyes, she had the most beautiful blue eyes just like her father. The three of you were the definition of a perfect family, you and Bucky did ocationaly fight like all healthy couples do, but your life was great. Your house was so full of love and happiness.

Bucky was so thankful to you, you had given him all he could ever dreamed for in life and more.

The three of you spent all the time you could together, you went to the park and had movie nights, went of family trips and spent lazy Sunday mornings in bed together. You wanted Becca to feel and understand what a loving home was, since you didn’t had one. You wanted her to feel the love you and Bucky had for her.

“Becca, Bucky, you two know you are the most important people in my life right. I love the two of you so so much. You are the ones that make me happy. You are my greatest treasures.” You said to your husband and 5 year old daughter one afternoon, while cuddling in the couch together.

“I love you too mommy, you too daddy. You are the best parents in the world, thank you.” She said kissing yours and Bucky’s face, making you giggle.

“You dolls are my everything. I love you.” He said before attacking the two of you with tickles, and whispering to your ear. “Thanks doll, for all this.”

The day had started like any other Tuesday would, you woke up after your alarm. Waking up Bucky with kisses and loving touches, after he woke up he heads to shower while you got Becca ready. Once the two of them were dressed, Bucky went to the kitchen to make breakfast wihle you got ready. The three of you ate together, you heard how Becca´s best friend was going to have a party next Saturday and you needed to buy her a present. You decided to go to the mall with her after classes and maybe have a girl’s day and do you nails. That made her smile so bright, which was what you loved the most about your life, that it was full of happiness.

After eating, you said goodbye to Bucky and Rebecca, he was going to take her to school and then go to the Avengers compound to train some new recruits, while you went to your office.

Bucky’s day went normal, as any other day would go, he did some training and hanged out with Sam and Steve. When 4pm came around the received a call from Becca´s school, her teacher told him that she was still there. You never came pick her up, he didn´t know why you were late. You always told him if your meeting was going to be longer so someone would pick your daughter from school.

“Sorry man.” He told Steve at the middle of the meeting. “Apparently YN never went to pick Rebecca from school she is there by herself, I really need to go. I also need to see what happened to YN. She is not picking up her phone.” Bucky said standing up from his chair.

“Sure pal, everything good with her?” Steve said a bit worry, he didn´t want his best friend to be in panic.

“I hope so.” He said walking to the door, but before he could reach it his phone rang again.

Steve just stood there, and watched how the color of his best friends face went completely white, then Bucky’s knees failed and he felt to the floor. Tears running down his cheeks, his face was shaking. He was wordless. Sentences couldn´t form in his mouth. Steve was next to him in second, he took the phone from his hand.

That when he heard him scream, he screamed as if he was dying, painful and horrible screams.

“Excuse me.” Steve said through the phone. “This is Steve Rogers. What happened?” He asked, though he already had an idea of what had happened.

“I am so sorry Sir, but I regret to inform you that Mrs. Barnes had a car accident today. She arrived to the New York Presbyterian Hospital at 2:36pm, she immediately went to surgery. She didn´t make it, she was called at 3:49pm. I am so sorry, but we need her husband to come.”

Steve hanged up the phone, he had tears in his eyes, he was about to cry. He had lost his best friend, but he needed to be strong for the man that was like a brother to him, to his nice.

Bucky was in the floor, sobbing and screaming. He went and called for Nat. She enter and saw the state in which Bucky was, then she saw the tears in Steve´s eyes.

“What happened?” She asked in panic.

“I… he…N-Nat” he mumbled between sobs. “Can you please look for Rebecca at school? Please.”

Nat realized, she immediately shook her head in disbelieve, “no, no, no,”

“Nat, please. Someone needs to be with her.” Steve managed to say. She wiped her tears and left the room.

Steve was in the floor hugging his best friend while he cried his eyes out, he was no longer screaming.

“I am sorry buddy, I am so sorry.” He said to his friend. “I know how you feel, just let it all out. But later you need to be strong for your daughter. She just lost her mother, she will need her dad. She needs you to be there for her, but now. I am here for you.”

“Not her, please not her. She is perfect Steve, I can’t, I love her, we can’t lose her.” He sobbed and screamed. “We were supposed to spend the rest of our lives together, the two of us.”

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When he calmed down, they went to the hospital. A drunk driver had crashed against your car in a traffic light. He died immediately.

Becca slept in Nat´s room. Bucky slept in his old room in the compound, he couldn’t go to your home. Too many memories. He couldn’t face his daughter, he would broke in front of her, he needed to be strong. He cried himself to sleep that day.

He next day was awful, he needed to explain to her 5 year old baby, that her mother would never hug her again. He couldn’t even began to comprehend that.

“Becca, baby. I need to talk to you.” He said the next morning the compounds living room, all the other Avengers were in the hospital helping Bucky prepare every detail for the funeral, Steve was the only one there, next to Bucky and Becca. In case either of them needed him.

“Daddy, why did we slept here?” She asked frowning her eyebrows, just like her dad. “Where is mommy? We were supposed to have a girl´s day yesterday.”

That made Bucky tear a few tears which he rapidly cleaned.

“Babydoll, its because…” Bucky mad a pause and looked through the windows. “Mommy had an accident, and she will never come again.”

Becca made a confused face.

“Why? Can´t you just put her a bad-aid like you do to me when I have accident?” She asked in all her innocence, which made Bucky’s strength fall. He quickly enveloped her in his arms.

“That is the thing baby, she had a big accident, she is gone.” He started to sob again, so did Steve.

Becca began to stroke her father’s hair. “We will see her daddy, someday, but I am really going to miss her.” She started to cry and hug her dad.

“I want my mommy, dad.”

“So do I honey.”

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The funeral was beautiful, full with YN´s family and friends. They all told beautiful stories and tried to remember the amazing person YN was. Bucky couldn’t talk, he had so many things to say, none of them were for this people to hear, they were for his love.

A week had passed since you awful dead, Bucky stayed at the compound, he couldn’t go home, he also needed help with Becca. He could barely managed to take care of himself.

He was in his bed, looking at the celling, numb. He know the needed to stand up and shower, he needed to get up and care of his baby, but she was the carbon copy of you. It was like looking at you, it hurt, it really hurt. Lying there he heard some knocking at his door. Then Steve came..

“Hey pal, the lawyer came today, he left the will and this letter. She wrote it you when you guys had Rebecca.”

“Thanks, just leave it there.” He said gesturing to his night stand.

When Steve left he got up and grabbed the letter, it had his name in your beautiful calligraphy.

Bucky,

My love, I hope that you never have to open this letter, but if you do, I want you to know that you made me the happiest woman alive. In all the galaxies we know that exist, in all the universe that may. I was the happiest, all thanks to you. You teached me what the meaning for being alive really meant, you showed me so many incredible and beautiful things, and you gave me our most amazing gift, our daughter Rebecca, she is the tangible evidence of our love.

If the time in which you have to open this letter comes, know that you did everything you could. Under any circumstances think that this was your fault, it wasn´t.

I love you so much Bucky, you have really no idea, and I know you loved me just as much, that is why I am asking you one last favor.

Please don´t close yourself, don´t let yourself return to the man you were before be met, not that he was any less amazing, but he was lonely. I want you to continue living your life to the fullest. I know I can´t ask you to not miss me or forget me, I don’t want that. I want you to remember my memory and cherish it. I want you to show all then wonders of the world to sweet Becca. Please never let her forget that she was the most important person in my life besides you.

I want the two of you to continue to love, and let yourselves be love. I love you with all my heart, and every single atom in my body.

Don’t forget me my brightest star, YN.

After reading that Bucky cleaned his cheeks.

“I will always love you.” He kissed the letter and placed it in his nightstand. He got up and went to find his daughter.

“I love you baby, and so did you mother. You are our greatest creations.” He no longer had you here, so he was going to spend all his breathing moments showing her how much he loved her, he was the only part left in this world of YN, and she was that greatest gift she could have left him.

He would continue to love you long after you are gone. For ever, til the end of times.

——————————————————————————

A/N: I cried so hard writing this. I am so sorry, but I hope you like it. I really appreciate feedback.

214 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years ago

Text

Born to Run

Warnings: dark elements including noncon and rape, fingering, kidnapping, guns, and other explicit content.

This is dark!Frank Castle and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are forced onto the road when an unwanted passenger gets in your backseat.

Note: So I’m gonna tag @allaboardthereadingrailroad because I promised them I’d write Frank and I finally got to it and it was loads of fun!

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

You sighed as you rolled to a stop behind the yellow taxi. You craned your neck to try to see around the lines of cars, another deadlock in New York traffic. You couldn’t be surprised as you idled in one spot and leaned your hand on the wheel as you checked the time.

You heard a siren, saw lights flashing ahead, and heard shouts. Again, not unusual for the city.

You rubbed your forehead as the sun beat down through your window and the humidity built as it leaked in through your open window. You tried not to use the AC too much as it made your old Chrysler overheat in the annual New York heatwave. You shifted in your seat and pulled against the belt as you tried once more to peer past the crowded vehicles.

You heard heavy footsteps, several sets echoing from all directions. A figure appeared on the other side of your car and the back door was ripped open. The man ducked as he slammed the door behind him and laid across the seat. He rolled down onto the floor, a sudden invasion that shocked you.

“What the fuck--get out of my car!” you snarled.

“Honey, you’re gonna wanna keep it down,” he said as his large body barely fit in the crevice between the seats.

“What--”

He poked a gun up towards you and waved it, “eyes forward,” he said, “hands on the wheel, and turn the music up.”

“I don’t have any money--”

“I don’t want your money now shut up,” he hissed, “now you keep it up and I’ll blow a hole through your seat… pity you’re on the other side.”

Your adrenaline spiked and the pounding in your temples deafened you. You turned the knob of the radio to drown out the pulsing and the man’s ragged breaths. Several others appeared, several dressed as officers and few in civilian clothing. You grasped the wheel and made yourself stare at the license plate ahead of you.

The search party dispersed as they called out to each other and the cab slowly crawled forward. The man squinted up through the window as the cars around you began to move as well.

“Drive,” he said.

“What do you want?” you asked shakily as you pressed lightly on the gas.

“To do what I tell you,” he barked and wiggled uncomfortably on the floor, “you keep driving until you’re out of the city and then maybe we’ll talk.”

“It’s rush hour, that could take ages,” you huffed.

“So take ages,” he growled, “you don’t stop ‘til I tell you, got it?”

You nodded and cleared your throat, “uh huh,” you looked in your rearview as a gunshot rang, “exit?”

“Whatever gets you out of New York now shut up and drive.”

You did as he said. You made your way at a snail’s pace until traffic began to thin out and you turned away from your usual route.

“Tell me what street you’re on when you turn,” he ordered, “don’t fuck around with me.”

You looked at the sign and read it aloud. You followed a silver Civic to the next and again recited the name on the dented sign. You checked the clock again. Your meeting would have already started, that was probably why your bag wouldn’t stop vibrating.

“Give me your phone,” he said. You reached over blindly and grabbed your purse. You dropped it to him and he quickly unzipped it, “roll the window down,” again, you obeyed as you recalled the sight of the gun.

He pulled apart your phone and you glanced back over your shoulder. He had the back of and the battery in his hand. “Hey--”

“Keep your eyes on the road,” he flung the battery out the window and bent the phone in half. He tossed it too and righted his gun to aim over the console, “go on.”

“You can take the car, please… people will look for me,” you pleaded.

“Not for a while,” he laid back and gripped the gun, “now someone sees you arguing with your windshield and they gonna get curious so shut up and enjoy the… is that music?”

You changed the station with a flick of your finger, you barely registered the smoky tones of Springsteen as you focused on steering and reading out the street names. Your veins burned as our blood pumped wildly from your racing heart and the man’s scent tickled your nostrils; he smelled of blood and sweat. You hoped he didn’t add your own to the stains on his jeans.

💀

It was dark as your car dinged. You swore and looked ahead for a sign. You shook your head and blew out a long breath.

“I need gas,” you said to the phantom in the back seat.

He grunted as he pushed himself up from the floor and sat up, “gotta be a station close.”

“And if there isn’t?”

“Then we get out and push,” he scoffed, “stop worrying about ‘if’ and find us a station.”

You rolled your eyes. The man was annoying, even if he was terrifying. You scratched your nose and sat forward with a yawn. “I’d know if you hadn’t destroyed my phone.”

“See, right up there,” he ignored your gripe, “yellow sign just ahead.”

“Christ,” you huffed and blinked at the black road.

“I’m sure you had some real important business,” he grumbled, “but I’m sure the coffee can make itself.”

“Excuse me? Fuck off, I’m not some--”

“You’re gonna miss your turn,” he warned and you flipped your signal on.

You pulled into the station and he scooped up your purse. You shut the car off and unbuckled your belt. You twisted in your seat to watch him search your purse. He pulled out your wallet and counted the bills inside.

“Right, we fill up then we’re back to it,” he opened the door and stepped out.

He uncapped your tank and pulled a hose from the meter. He slid it into the slot and kept a hand lazily on the handle. You slowly opened your door and got out. You looked at him over the top of the car as he scowled at you, it was the first good look you got at him.

His dark hair was shaved on the side but he had about and inch or two up top, his nose was crooked, and his dark eyes were set beneath a forehead that betrayed a frequent grimace. You looked at the lights of the station then back at him.

“I gotta… go pee,” you said.

“You wait,” he said, “I’ll go with you.”

“What?”

“You think I’m stupid?” He released the level and tapped the nozzle as he pulled it out, “hold your horses, I’m comin’.”

He put the hose back in and stomped over to you. You saw the gun tucked into his belt and he pulled his jacket over it. He snatched the keys from you and grabbed your arm and marched you to the blazing door of the station.

“You have one minute before I come in and drag you out, pants down or not,” he tore open the door and shoved you through.

You curled your lip as he took a few sticks of jerky from a display and approached the counter. As you got to the sign over the restroom, you looked back as he stared at you. He raised a thick brow and tapped his wrist as if he wore a watch; he did not.

You went into the bathroom and locked the heavy door behind you. You looked around the grimy room and shuddered at the stained toilet bowl. You stepped up on the seat and looked out the small window above. It might be big enough if you suck in.

You stepped on the pipe beside the handle and pushed on the pain. It was just as gross as the rest of the room. The pane finally popped out and you hauled yourself over the high ledge. The glass didn’t quite open wide enough so you had to bend as you wiggled through. You had a high chance of landing on your head but you really didn’t want to chance worse with that man.

You kicked as you were lodged halfway through the window and a knock came at the door, “better pull your pants up,” your abductor called through the door.

You struggled to force yourself through as you tried to angle your hips past the frame. The door burst open with a frightening kick and you flailed your legs as you tried to hit the man blindly and keep him away. He caught your ankles and pulled you back. You cried out and grabbed the window frame so that you didn’t crash down into the toilet.

“Hey, let me go,” you tried to kick him again and he batted away your foot.

“You do that again and you won’t have a safe landing,” he tugged again and you nearly lost your grip on the ledge, “now come on.”

“You got my wallet, my keys, everything, so why don’t you just leave me--”

“Don’t make me count,” he sounded like a father.

“Count? Oh, come on, what am I gonna do? Just let me go.”

“Three,” he swung you just a little, “two,” he gripped your legs firmly, “O--”

“Okay!” you shouted, “okay, just-- let me down.”

Cautiously he bent and put your feet on the floor. He stood and you pushed yourself straight. He grabbed your arm and spun you to face him. He bent and rammed his shoulder into your stomach as he scooped you up. You yiped and pounded on his back as he turned and carried you out of the restroom.

As he strutted down the aisle, the clerk stared at you in confusion. The man reached the door and paused, “on her rag, she gets a bit pissy.” He left the store with a chime and carried you across the lot, “you want the trunk or are you gonna be good?”

You pulled on the back of his jacket and gritted your teeth, “would you put me down?”

“I won’t ask again so either you choose or I do,” he said as he neared the car.

“Alright, alright,” you snarled as he popped the trunk, “I’ll be good just don’t-- not in there.”

He harrumphed and walked around to close the trunk. He brought you up to the passenger side and dropped you on your feet. Dizzy, you grabbed onto the car and he ripped the door open, narrowly missing you with it.

“In,” he pointed to the seat.

You glared at him and stepped under his arm. You sat and he closed the door with a snap. He rounded the hood and the car dipped as he sat in the driver’s seat. He fumbled with keys and shoved them in the slot. He turned the ignition and shifted in the seat.

He took a stick of jerky from his pocket and peeled the plastic. He took a bite as he put the car in drive. He pulled out with one hand on the wheel and chewed noisily and he siphoned through the radio station with his greasy finger. You buckled your seatbelt out of habit and crossed your arms.

“Get some shut-eye,” he gristled, “you’ll be drivin’ once the sun comes up.”

“Where the fuck are you taking me?” you groaned.

“Dunno, far,” he answered bluntly, “no talk, just sleep.”

“I’m not a dog,” you muttered.

“Keep actin’ like one and I’ll get you a leash,” he snorted.

“I really don’t get why you don’t just take the car--”

“As useless as I’d agree you are, you’ve seen my face and the longer I keep you from running back and snitching, the better chance I got,” he adjusted the seat as he chewed the last of the salted meat, “but there is another option?”

“There is?” you asked.

“Yeah, I could kill you,” he chuckled.

You swallowed and exhaled as you leaned your head back heavily. You peeked over at him as he focused on the road and as much as you wanted to leap from the moving car, you knew that would be just as fatal. So you huddled down and closed your eyes.

“Would you turn that down?” you nodded at the radio.

“You askin’ me to turn down a classic?” he turned the knob and Robert Plant’s voice whined from the speakers, “a nice little lullaby for you.”

You closed your eyes and turned in the seat so that you faced the door, the belt strained against you awkwardly but you didn’t care. You crossed your legs and tried to drown out the music. Even without the racket, you wouldn’t sleep easy.

💀

You woke after hours of uncomfortable sleep in the car seat. The car was still as you yawned and groaned as your stiff muscles rebelled. You sat up as you heard the sound of water hitting the dirt. The man was just outside with his back to you, pissing on the side of the road.

You looked to the ignition but the keys weren’t there. He finished up and zipped up noisily. He opened the door and bent to look at you. He kept his hand on the door as his eyes met yours.

“Get out, stretch your legs, you gotta piss, there’s a bush,” he jabbed his other thumb behind him.

“Really?”

“Or you can keep holding it,” he shrugged and closed the door. He walked around the front of the car and pushed an arm over his head to stretch his shoulder. You took a breath as your irritation bubbled and reached for the door handle.

You got out and held in a grunt. You walked around the back of the car and glanced around. The bush was small and poor cover. Even so, you really had to go as you spent your only opportunity trying to sneak out of the station. You looked at him and neared the leafy bunch. He blinked at you and turned his back.

“I hear any funny business,” he said over his shoulder, “you can piss your pants instead.”

You shoved your pants down and squatted. You let out a steady stream and almost sighed as the pressure left your pelvis. When you finished, you waited until you were relatively dry and pulled your pants back up.

“All done,” you said as you went back to the car. He shook his head and pointed you to his side.

“You drive, sign says there’s a motel about an hour down the road,” he opened the driver’s door.

You got in and he snapped the door shut before he went to the other side. He settled in the seat and slid the keys into the ignition, turning it until the engine rumbled. He leaned back and pushed his fingers back against his palm.

“Right, let’s go.”

You sniffed and pulled back onto the empty highway. You’d never been down that one before, an old country road with sparse exits. He pushed on his jaw until his neck snapped and you winced. You hated the noise.

“So, what do I call you then?” you asked.

He was silent and you felt him watching you, “like you care.”

“I don’t but looks like I’m stuck with you, so…”

“Mmm,” he pulled out some more jerky, “Frank.”

You nodded and stared at the endless road ahead. He said your name before you could.

“Saw it in your wallet,” he explained.

You drove in silence from there until he flipped the radio on. He chose a country station and you silently cursed his taste. You followed the signs and he pointed you to the old motel as you approached it. You thought of hitting the gas but that would do nothing but piss him off and probably get you hurt. Worse, you’d be stuck in the car with him for who knew how long.

You steered into the lot and he yanked the keys out of the ignition before you could. You mirrored him as he got out but he stomped over to your side. He leaned in as he lowered his voice.

“You can play along,” he pushed his jacket open and showed the butt of his gun, “or there’s still room in the trunk.”

“Fine,” you muttered.

“I mean it, you try anything,” he rested his hand on the gun, “you really wanna get someone else hurt?”

You nodded and chewed your lip, “I get it, okay?”

He pulled his jacket closed again and took your elbow, ushering you up to the front of the motel. You wriggled away as you reached the door and entered ahead of him. He drew you back as he followed you through the door and cleared his throat. The woman at the front desk looked up over her glasses and set aside the novel with a shirtless man on the cover.

“Good afternoon,” she sang as she swiveled in her chair, “how can I help you two today?”

“We need a room,” Frank said as he pulled out a wad of money.

“Deposit’s three-hundred, sir,” the woman replied, “can I get a name?”

“Ben Tacker,” he lied smoothly as he counted out the money.

“Alright, and a piece of ID?” she asked.

“Funny thing,” he peeled a fifty free and held it over the desk to her, “I lost it.”

She stared at him and slowly took the bill. She shoved it in her pocket and counted the rest out. She handed him a paper to sign and he scribbled without caring. She handed him the key and he thanked her in the same gruff voice.

“You two have fun,” she called after him as he swung open the door and waved you out.

He chuckled and shook his head, “sure will,” he said before the door shut again.

He looked at the number on the tag and led you to the door with the same. He unlocked it and waited for you to enter. The lock clicked as he trailed you and brushed past you as he went to the closet. You watched in confusion as he pulled out a stack of extra bedding and shared shredding the tinged top sheet.

He took one of the strips as he neared you. You backed up against the door and he wrenched you away as he pulled the single chair up behind you. He sat you down and held your wrist against the narrow arm of the chair. As he began to wind the strip around your wrist, you twisted and he squeezed so hard your fingers went numb.

“Can’t trust ya but I gotta get some sleep,” he growled as he finished tying your first hand. He went back and took another strip of linen, he repeated the process on your other arm and both your legs.

“And what if I have to pee?” you pulled against the bounds but only added to your discomfort.

“Hold it,” he shrugged and took the remote. He flipped on the television and pushed the control into your hand, “there. I don’t wanna hear another word.”

“You’re not serious? You’re just gonna leave me like this?”

“I coulda left you in the trunk,” he turned and walked around the foot of the bed, he plopped down with a sigh, “you should be thanking me?”

He untied his boots and kicked them off. He pulled off his jacket and tossed it over the far side of the bed. He set the gun on the table beside the lamp and stretched his arms behind his head. As he laid back, he shifted awkwardly and dug in his pocket, he tossed your credit card up onto the table with a flick.

“Now, don’t go pullin’ shit or we won’t get that deposit back,” he groaned as he wiggled to get comfortable, “not my money so I don’t really care either way.”

“You… asshole,” you huffed and he smirked.

“I think an asshole woulda just taken the car,” he said, “and left you with a hole in your head.”

You clamped your lips together and shook your head. You hit a button and searched through the channels. You didn’t really care what you watched, you wouldn’t be able to pay attention anyway. You stopped at an old episode of NewsRadio and let the remote rest on the end of the arm.

The laugh track filled the interminable silence and after some time, low snores rose from the bed. You peeked over at Frank, his arm slung over his face as his chest rose and fell steadily. He might be irritating but you had enough sense to be afraid of him. If you had to guess, he was ex-military and judging by your inopportune meeting, he was also a wanted man.

You fidgeted as much as you could in the chair and turned back to the screen. It was as if the recorded guffaws were at your expense. You slumped as the cotton chafed around your wrists and yawned. Your back was still stiff from your nap in the car and the chair was little better with its thin pleather cushioning and short back.

💀

You didn’t remember falling asleep, not until you woke up in terrible pain. Your head hung over as you were nearly folded over your lap entirely, your bound arms holding you just above. You groaned as you pushed yourself up and it sent a pang up your neck. You heard the rattle of pipes and looked over at the empty bed.

You let out a strained breath and moved your head side to side, just slightly as the pain lingered and throbbed with each pivot. You balled your hands in fists and tried to twist your arms against the linen. You flexed your legs too, wiggling your feet as you tried to loosen the ties.

The chair began to rock as you fought against your restraints. The remote fell to the floor and the television kept blaring. As you were sure you just needed a little more, the chair tipped and you bounced off the side of the bed as it crashed down onto its side. The impact had your head spinning and shower faucet squeaked off.

You kept moving your arms and legs, desperate to free yourself before he could discover you. There was no hiding your intent anymore. The bathroom door opened and your heart swelled. Shit. You hissed as you heard his footsteps and looked up as his shadow loomed over you.

Frank stood in nothing but a towel, his thickly muscles torso still damp as he glared down at you. You cringed and tried not to see more than you wanted.

“I gotta take a leak,” you lied, well, not exactly untrue.

“Uh huh,” he hummed doubtfully and grabbed the chair.

He hauled you back up and planted the chair back in place. He shook his head at you and retreated. He pulled one of the white robes from the hook on the wall and pulled it over the towel. He tied the belt tightly and dropped the other layer before he disappeared back into the bathroom.

When he emerged again, you watched him dully, “I really do have to go,” you said.

He ignored you and checked his gun. He slid open the drawer and set it inside.

“Well,” he came around the bed, “I got some bad news for you, There’s no window in there,” he grabbed the strip around your left wrist and unknotted it, “so, I’ll give you two minutes.”

He untied you and watched as you rubbed your wrists. You stood with a wince as your legs ached but he didn’t back up. You sidled past him and he turned to keep his dark eyes on you as you approached the bathroom. You swung the door shut and nearly collapsed on the other side.

The bathroom smelled of the gardenia scented soap that came with the room and there was still moisture in the air. You relieved yourself quickly and stood to gaze into the mirror. You looked awful, you felt awful. You splashed your face with cold water and leaned heavily on the porcelain.

Whether you listened to that man or not, you were fairly certain the result would be the same. You could see it now, the black barrel of the gun, his finger on the trigger. You shuddered and shook out your hands as if to get rid of your nerves. You stood straight and groaned as you stretched out the knots in your limbs and back.

You went back into the hotel room as you rubbed your neck, the needling pain still buried at the base of your skull.

“Tell you what,” he said as he sat on the bed and aimed the remote at the screen, “I can tie you up again or you can make both our lives easier and just lay down.”

“Is there a third option?” you winced as another jolt went through your spine.

He snickered and pointed to the pillows, “we’re leavin’ early,” he said, “so you can sleep now or sleep in the car.”

You gave no response as you went around the other side of the bed. You eased yourself down against the pillow and let out an unwitting groan. It felt good to lay down. You turned onto your side, your face away from him, and he finally stopped switching stations.

You closed your eyes and hugged yourself as his weight rested at the bottom of the bed. It wasn’t hard to drift off as the pain chased you into unconsciousness and the stress of the last day shrouded your mind. You only hoped he wasn’t waiting for you in your dreams.

💀

The night's stay was taken out of the deposit and you were back on the road to nowhere. The man gave you gruff directions as he closed his eyes in the passenger seat. At night, you switched and you grew complacent as the endless travel wore on your wits. You didn't know why he wouldn't just let you go. He could take the car and the last of your money and just leave you alone. Likely the separation would be preferable to both parties.

Another motel after a week of driving and you were thankful to be standing still. You were asleep on your feet as you dragged your feet behind your grumpy captor and as you leaned on the front desk and bid farewell to even more of your cash, you barely processed the conversation happening around you.

Frank's arm wrapped around your waist and he pulled you close. You flinched and sneered at him. You felt so gross, you didn’t want to be touched, let alone by him. The desk clerk handed him a key and chuckled.

“It’s been a long trip,” Frank said, “think we just need some R and R.”

You blinked at him stupidly as he turned you around and swept you out the door. Outside, you shoved him away and stumbled as he laughed at your pathetic effort.

“What the fuck was that about?” you scowled.

“Well, you looked like you were about to keel over, just tryna keep you on your feet,” he jingled the keys and led you up to the second level.

“Don’t do that again,” you mumbled as you waited for him to unlock the door.

“Sure, honey,” he said mockingly as he slid the key out and kicked the door open, “come on.”

Just like last time, he locked the door and you looked around at the small room, a single queen and another rickety chair.

“Please, don’t,” you said as you crossed the room, “I’ll stay, just don’t tie me up. I need to lay down.”

“You need to wash the road off ya,” he quipped as he peeked into the bathroom, “ladies first.”

You stared at him and tilted your head. He might have kept you alive so far but you could hardly trust him. After all, you weren’t exactly there by choice. You tiptoed forward, warily eyeing him as you got closer. He stepped back and crossed his arms.

“You might not be able to smell ya but I can,” he nodded through the door, “ten minutes.”

You stepped inside and he snapped the door shut behind you. You sat on the toilet and rubbed your eyes. You looked down at your clothes, rumpled and stained with sweat and filth. You took a moment and stood to strip off the layers one at a time.

You cranked on the shower and stepped under the stream. The shower curtain rang as you pulled it around the tub and you basked in the hot water. It felt good and your muscles relaxed as rivulets trailed down your skin. You scrubbed with the vague floral scented soap and scrubbed until you felt a little more like yourself.

Reluctantly, you turned the faucet off and reached for the towel on the bar. You lowered your foot onto the tile and patted yourself as you stared at your blurred silhouette in the steamy mirror. A knock sounded at the door and had you wrapping yourself in the white cotton.

“Ay, they got some machines here,” his voice scratched, “should probably wash those rags up while we’re here.”

You tucked the towel in at the top and gathered up your clothes. You neared the door hesitantly and cracked it open. You peeked out at him as he watched you impatiently.

“Figure you can’t run naked… well, if you try, it won’t be so easy,” he remarked. You shoved your clothes through wordlessly, “there’s some robes out here when you’re done with your sauna, princess.”

You rolled your eyes and shut the door. You heard him chuckle and move around the room as he grumbled under his breath. You waited for the other door to open and close before you emerged.

You took the robe folded over the bottom of the bed and tied the belt tight around your waist. You sat on the bed, your back to the frame and switched on the television. You thought of running but he was right, even if you eluded him, you doubted there were many who wouldn’t do worse to a barely clothed woman, not out there in the middle of nowhere.

He returned shortly and dropped a haul of processed foods on the bed from the vending machines. He wore a robe as well but it was smaller on him and the flimsy white slippers provided with the room. He shuffled through his trove of salt and sugar.

He took the two cups and placed them on the small round table and filled the kettle from the bathroom sink. He plugged it in and flipped the switch. “Hope you like chicken noodle,” he said.

You read the guide on the TV and punched in the channel playing re-runs of Law and Order. It was a grim choice but you just needed to disassociate from the dingy motel. The kettle clicked and his shadow flickered in your peripheral. Frank sat and the mattress dipped beside you. He held out a steaming cup with a plastic spoon sticking out of it.

“Thanks,” you took it and leaned back as you stirred the boiling soup.

“We’ll grab some burgers at the next stop,” he grizzled, “Fuckin’ starvin’.”

You said nothing and stared at the lawyers arguing on screen with the detectives. They were trying to figure out how a woman ended up in a motel with marks around her neck; dead. A chill went through you and you slowly glanced over at the man beside you.

He squinted and returned your gaze. His mouth slanted and he shook his head, “really?” he challenged nonchalantly.

You took a deep breath and turned back to the screen. You sipped at the hot broth and scooped up noodles as you tried not to think about being strangled to death on the bathroom floor.

When you finished, you set the empty cup aside and slid under the covers as the afterglow of the shower weighed down your limbs. You just wanted to sleep. If he did decide to kill you then, you wouldn’t even know the difference.

He grabbed a candy bar from the mess and sat back, jarring the whole bed as he did. You rolled onto your side and pulled a pillow over your head. You squeezed your eyelids shut and tuned out the old tube television and the chewing of the man behind you. Sleep crept up on you in haze, half-aware of the muffled voices and the movement on the other side of the bed.

You pushed the pillow away as it grew warm beneath and sleepily pulled it under your head. You heard the distant noise of the pipes. Groggy, you sank back into a shallow sleep as the constant noise lulled you.

You were disturbed again when you were jostled and the television shut off. You felt him behind you and wiggled closer to the edge. He barely seemed bothered as he stretched out and you felt the heat radiating from his body. You drifted off once more, dreaming about the eternal highway and Frank’s bristly orders.

You snorted awake, this time from a haze so deep it felt as if you’d been drowning. You felt the arm over the middle, heavy and firm, and the hot breath on your neck. Your lashes fluttered, threatening to close again, but your adrenaline forced your eyes open.

He was flush to your back, his hard body against your back as his hand was slid into the opening of your robe. His rough fingertips rested against your soft torso, just beneath your breast.

“Frank,” you rasped and tugged on his wrist, “the fuck are you doing?”

He groaned and shushed you as he nestled closer. You went rigid as you felt a prod against your ass. You grabbed him more firmly but could not move his hand as he squeezed you tighter. His hand glided up against your resistance and he cupped your chest. You gasped and pulled at his long fingers.

“Frank, get your fuckin’ hands off of me--”

He ignored you and rolled his thumb over your nipple. Your breath caught in your throat and tried to push yourself up. He held you down as he snaked his other arm beneath your.

“Honey, just relax,” he said drowsily, “I ain’t hurtin’ ya.”

“Get off!” you slapped the back of his hand.

“Mmmm,” he purred and nuzzled the back of your head, “you smell like flowers.”

“Frank--”

“What else are we gonna do, honey?” he asked and his breath tickled your ear, “hmmm.”

He nibbled at your lobe and a chill went through you. You pressed your hands to his and knew he could feel the frantic beating of your heart. You shivered as his arousal poked against you again. You gulped and gasped as suddenly rolled onto his back and pulled you up onto him.

Your robe fell loose as you laid atop him, your back to his hard torso as his other hand roved lower. You squirmed and grasped at his wrists. He easily ignored you as he kneaded your tit and his other hand slid along your vee. You held your breath and pushed your legs together.

“That’s your problem, you just need to let go,” he hummed and brushed his fingertips down the line of your leg, “come on and open up for me.”

You shook your head against his shoulder and he pinched your thigh. You yelped and he did it again. You hit his hand and he laughed, a deep rumble that flowed through you. He dug his nails into your flesh as he continued to fondle your chest with his other hand.

You whimpered as he threatened to break the skin and let your legs fall open around his. He slid his fingers between your folds and over your clit. You gasped and he swirled his fingertips, sending a bolt of electricity through you. You gripped his thick wrist and gritted your teeth as you tried to resist the fire in your core.

“What d’ya think you’re still around for, huh?” he slithered as he poked around your cunt, pressing his fingers to your entrance.

You murmured a weak protest as your eyes rolled up and you stared at the wall above the bed. You huffed between your teeth as he shoved two fingers inside you. You clenched around them and your nerves rippled with the wave of pleasure.

His palm rubbed against your clit as he rocked his hand slowly and you shook your head, fighting the unwelcome thrumming as it pulsed deep within you.

His fingers slipped easily in and out of you as you slickened and reached back unthinkingly to curl your fingers into his sides. He moved his hand faster, the friction building to a spark. You closed your eyes as your nails pressed against his muscles and your legs bent around his.

You spasmed as you came, your surrender declared with a pathetic squeak. He didn’t stop until you were panting uncontrollably, your head lolling on his shoulder as you bit the tip of your tongue. When he pulled his fingers out, you whined at the sudden emptiness.

He rubbed his wet fingers along your cunt and spread your lips as he snaked his other hand beneath your leg. He tore open the tails of his robe and angled his tip against your opening. He urged you onto him, sliding you down his body until your back arched to accept him. You moaned as he entered you and the overwhelming fullness fueled your helpless voice.

“Hmm, honey,” her purred as his hot breath touched your scalp, “just what you needed, isn’t it?”

You sputtered as he moved his hips beneath you, rocking into you from below as he planted his feet in the mattress. He lifted you carefully and kept an arm around your middle as his other toyed with your sensitive bud. His thick breaths clouded around you as he moved your body in time with his.

He hooked his arm around around your left leg and pulled it higher, doing the same with your right as he fucked you harder. He reached from below to keep his thumb on your clit, your legs folded against your chest. He growled in your ear and bit the lobe again. You clawed at the blanket below him as he used you so easily, your shame smothered by your pleasure.

You orgasmed again and as your walls clenched around him, he groaned and his legs slipped down straight. He turned onto his side and quickly rolled you onto your stomach as he forced your legs down. He pinned you beneath him, weaving his arm through yours as he pulled them back as his twined his fingers behind your head.

He kept you pinned beneath him as his flesh clapped against yours loudly. You moans seeped into the pillow and his animalistic grunts punctuated each thrust. The bed shook beneath your bodies and he pushed his thigh up around yours. He sat up, still bucking his hips as he pulled your arms back and forced you to arch with him.

He gripped your elbows as he hammered into you. Your moans turned to whines as he pounded your walls and you gulped down air desperately. He growled and you felt his body tense as his hold on you broke. He shoved your head down against the pillow, almost suffocating you as he once more sped up.

He snarled and his motion grew spasmodic. He slowed and his hips jolted into you in jagged thrust. He emptied himself into you as his long fingers stretched over your scalp. Finally, he stopped, still straddling you as he heaved a shaky sigh. He sniffed and trembled as he ran his hand down your back.

“Really makes me happy I didn’t put a bullet in ya,” he rasped, “real…” he squeezed your hips and pushed in as deep as he could go, “happy.”

#frank castle #dark frank castle #dark!frank castle #frank castle x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #the punisher #marvel #one shot

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ashdreams2023 · 3 years ago

Note

Can I please ask some

Loki x starksis!reader where they are soulmates(rarely these days) and from the age of 18(she got 18 in 2008 right when bro got missing) you get dreams and nightmares of you soulmate

Loki is a thousand and something so he will get the dreams when reader got 18 (because idk how to make this work😃)

And in 2012 they kind of already know each other so reader is trying to help loki get his mind back together and not take over the world bu kinda fails and still has to fight,so she begs thor to let her go to asgard and help him there even tho he is in prison (odin and frigga agree because ye "my son")

Can you please make it headcanons?🤍

And I'm sorry for making it this long😅🤍

Being soulmates with Loki:

If it wasn’t enough that your brother went missing you were seeing weird dreams about who you figured is your soulmate

They were weird because the place in your dreams looked so different and he was hesitant to get near you

"What’s your name!?" You’ll run after him

They kept popping up until your brother was back and then they kept getting less frequent

He kept his distance from you in those dreams and it broke your heart

Didn’t your soulmate want you?

But you didn’t give up and eventually he came around

"It’s Loki…"

"I’m y/n, finally you’re talking to me"

Though that happy moment didn’t last long

After that you saw nightmares of him in depression, like sadness was consuming him and you couldn’t do anything

It kept on until someday it they cut off

"Tony I don’t know what’s happening, I can’t see him again and I’m worried"

"I’m sure he’s fine, if someone ever happens to him you’ll get a sign"

Oh that sign was coming alright

The New York attack came and you felt your world split apart

You thought it was a nightmare but soon realized that it was real and you needed to do something

"He’s my soulmate Tony please let me help!"

"Are you crazy! He threw me from the highest floor in the building!"

You didn’t listen to your brother’s argument and took matters into your own hands

You used your suit he made for emergencies and tried to reach Loki

But things didn’t go as planned

It was like he got triggered when he saw and next thing you knew you were crashing against the hard concrete

Eventually the avengers did stop him and after a harsh scolding from tony you met with Thor

You practically begged him to let you go to Asgard and after many tries he decided it to leave the decision to his parents

Odin and frigga approved

The first thing you did when you arrived was to ask to be guided to his prison room

"Loki…" you said, fully heartbroken at his miserable looking state

"Go away…I don’t deserve a soulmate after all of that"

You didn’t Loki that well but you were willing to do even if it meant sharing a prison sell with him

There was many pushes and screaming towards you but it was fine

His eyes showed sadness and you weren’t going to give up on him

"You’re wasting your time mortal"

"No I’m not, you’re my soulmate and I’m ready to risk everything for you"

Loki had layers on layers hiding his complete true self

But you were ready to help him open up to you

"Do you hate being my soulmate?" He’ll ask

"Never."

#loki laufeyson #imagine #headcanon #loki x reader #mcu #fanfic #loki imagine #loki/y/n #loki #mcu loki #loki x stark!reader

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turtle-go-brrrr · 3 years ago

Text

4 times Leonardo was a dork and the time he wasn’t

Heya! I adore the "strong stoic character does something embarrassing or dumb" trope, and Leo has been left behing from that one. Also, my fervent Leo Simp Friend said these were all good ideas and I trust his judgment completely, so it's also for him. Enjoy, you Dork-ass Looser (affectionate) @weird-flex-but-ok

I have one of these "4 times ______ and 1 time ______" stories for each of them, I just got really inspired by him all of a sudden. But they're coming!

There might be a few typos here and there, but I really don't wanna wait any longer to post it :3

Requested: No

Pairing: None, platonic

Word count: 2500 +

Triggers: cursing, injuries, blood, intrusion

Summary: You were always sort of intimidated by the leader in blue, but a series of events shows you he might not be as serious as he wants you to think.

__________________________________________

First time

It took you a while to get along with all of them.

Not because you didn't trust them, or because they made it difficult, and certainly not because they're mutants. You're just not that good with new people, and you tend to shy away. Especially when you have New York's heroes in front of you.

So yeah. It took a while. But soon enough, you warmed up to your new friends, and you had a great time. Mikey was the first who made you feel welcomed, always asking questions about you and insisting you came to the lair in the first place. Donnie followed soon, after you started asking about what he was working on. It took a bit more work to get closer to Raph, but it turns out sarcasm was the way to go.

If only their leader was as approachable.

He never made you feel unsafe or unwelcomed, don’t get me wrong, he just kept a professional distance with you, which started to become quite painful as time went on. You tried not to take it personally, thinking he maybe was as shy as you were.

You had time anyway.

It was early in the evening when you made your way to the lair. For the first time since you met the turtles, you went there alone. You were a little nervous, thinking you might get lost in the maze of tunnels under the city, but figured you could just call someone if anything happened. Lucky for you, you found your way to your friend’s place, but not without hustle.

As you entered, you realized it was uncharacteristically quiet. The only sounds you could here were the faint music and the not so faint curses from Donatello’s lab. The smart decision seemed to be leave him alone, which is exactly what you did.

You haven’t been here long enough to know where to find the others, and as you didn’t exactly felt like staying alone in the living space, you tried finding your way to the dojo, as it was one of the other places you knew well.

Of course, now you got lost. Venturing into the sewers was fine, but walking into your friend's home wasn't, apparently.

You found something else, however. This particular tunnel led to a room you could identify as someone's room. You could see the large bed in the middle of the room, a small table with a bottle of water, a book, and a makeshift alarm. A set of twin swords were hanging on the right wall, just above a small bookshelf.

On your left was another table with a (healthy, you noted) bonsai tree, and next to that was Leonardo, facing a mirror. He had his right arm lifted up to his head, and was looking right to you through the mirror.

He looked absolutely horrified.

What the fuck.

He slowly rubbed his face in his hands, let out a long sigh, and turned to you, more tense than you've ever seen him. He cleared his throat as you pince your lips in a thin line to hold back a smile.

"Hello, Y/N. I... didnt think you'd come in so early."

Despite the badly lit room, you can see him bite the inside of his cheek.

"Yeah, uh, I didnt mean to... interrupt you," you say. Your voice is slightly shaking as it takes all of your willpower not to burst out laughing. And he definitely notices.

"You didn't! I uh, wasn't doing anything anyway. So, tell me- what brings you to the lair?" He asks, avoiding your eyes.

"Oh, Mikey invited me, he said I wasnt allowed to skip on movie night. You know how strong willed he is," you smirks, unable to handle it much longer.

Stiff as a board, you see the corner of his mouth twitching and hear him whisper, "... I wasn't flexing."

Silence.

You snort laugh hard enough to choke on it as you quickly turn around to hold yourself against the wall, the insanity of the situation crashing on you. Leo sat at the foot of his bed, head in his hands, and you could see him shake in repressed laughter once you wiped your tears away.

You sit next to him after finally calming down from the hysteria. He sighs, straightens his back and gives you a side glance.

"I'm not judging."

"You're still laughing, though."

"Yeah, but like, I guess I just wasn't expecting that. Still not judging."

He nods, still smiling. His voice is at least 3 octaves higher when he asks, "Please, don't tell the others."

"And what, give them the privilege of knowing about your little... ritual? Nah, don't worry about it."

_______________________

Second time

The second time your assumptions about the leader were subverted happended only two weeks after the... incident.

You had invited the whole crew to your place for the very first time, and they were all excited to come. You made a copious dinner: a few veggie cakes, chicken wings and a bowl of roasted potatoes. They were supposed to bring the drinks and movies, and April and Casey were in charge of the desert.

A perfect night, it seemed.

And it would have been if they could decide what to watch first without jumping at each other's throats.

"You guys need to grow up."

"Leave me out of thi-"

"Donnie's suggesting Velocipastor of all things and you think we need to grow up? Come on, Y/N, I thought you were better than that."

"Okay, first of all, how dare you. And second, this movie's a masterpie-"

"Yeah, because everyone knows that his supremior intellect means he's the only one who gets to choose a dumb movie. Why won't you guys watch Sharknado?"

"Supremior isn't a word. And it's because unlike you, peasants, I have taste." A devilish smile creeps up Donnie's face. The bastard is doing it on purpose.

"Peasants?!"

"You ugly-ass son of a-"

"Hey! Leave Dad out of this!"

"We could watch Shrek instead?"

You decided to go get some glasses in the kitchen, leaving the children to their stupid fight. Searching through your cupboard, you hear a crashing sound, quickly followed by utter and complete silence.

Oh no.

In insight, leaving them alone was maybe not the best idea. You were reconsidering bringing glasses into the mess as you made your way to the origin of the sound. And what a mess it was.

Your friends were all expressing shock in some way, Casey (surprisingly) being the most dramatic of them all with his hands right in front of his face and his jaw hanging open. They were all looking back and forth between you and another direction near the table.

The really cool bowl that held the delicious potatoes you made was broken on the floor. There was glass and potatoes everywhere, but the biggest shards were in a neat pile, right behind Leonardo, who looked like a deer in headlights.

"... nothing happended."

"I'm... starting to think it's a habit of yours," you say as you watch him not so discretely try to hide the broken pieces behind his foot.

"Look, if you keep putting your foot in there you're gonna hurt yourself. Just, step away a bit, will you?"

"I'm sorry I broke it. Let me help you clean up, I don't want you to cut yourself."

"It's okay! Don't touch it, I'll get a bag," you say as he starts to gather the biggest shards.

Won't even listen for one second, will he?

Raph was already picking up the untouched potatoes to put them in the plates on the table, and April went to the kitchen with you to retrieve the bag and cleaning supplies.

"Ew, Mikey don't eat that."

"Thirty seconds rule, baby."

"It's five seconds, you moron. And it's way over thirty anyway. Spit it out."

The rest of the night went on without further issues, but Leo still looked apologetic during the movie. Which is probably why he was standing before you as his brothers were leaving.

"Thank you for the evening. And I'm... sorry again for the bowl."

"Hey it's okay, man. Don't worry about it. As long as no one gets hurt it's not that big of a deal."

"I'll get you a new one." He doesn't wait for your answer and ruffles your hair before taking off.

"Text me when you guys get home!" You scream into the night, hoping one of them heard you.

______________________

Third time

It's surprisingly easy to mess with Fearless.

You were in the living room, getting your ass beat on Mario Kart by Mikey, when you decided to take a break for your stomach (and ego)’s sake. You made your way to the kitchen, where Leo and Raph were in a heated discussion. Raph looked

“I’m telling you, 4 inches is too small. What do you get from 4 inches ? Nothing. But 10 inches ? It really makes you feel something.”

…

What?

You looked down on the table and saw multiple ingredients lined up on the table, with a long piece of bread on the side.

Oh, sandwiches. Got it.

Leo’s back was facing you, but Raph gave you a knowing glance, one that said ‘do it’. So, you did. Not without a smirk, first.

“Oh, wow, Leo ! I didn’t think you’d be so open about that kind of conversations.” You open the fridge, hoping you can hide your smile behind the door.

“What ? What do you m-” His face falls. Raph starts chuckling next to you and it looks like Leo’s brain is rebooting.

“I mean, I’m not judging. You do you, buddy, I’m happy for you. Just surprised you choose lunch time to talk about it.” And in other circumstances, you’d mean every word. But right now, messing with your friend is too good to pass on.

“No, hold on- I didnt mean- It’s not what you think ! I’m talking about sandwiches !” He tries to show you the ingredients currently on the table, but Raph decides it’s time to join the fun.

“Lying isn’t vey Bushido of you, Honor Boy,” he winks at you and you can’t repress a giggle.

He puts his face in his hands, knowing very well that the both of you ganged up on him but unable to save face. He just smiles, goes back on his chair and hides his head in his arms, hoping you won’t see how embarassed you made him.

“Hey, you like what you like. Have fun with your sandwiches.” You give him an innocent smile, pat him twice on the shoulder, and join Mikey back on the couch with a plate of grapes.

You could hear Raph’s light chuckle from the kitchen.

______________________

Fourth time

Mornings are hard.

And they’re even worse when you spent the whole night sewing an arm back together after a sword gave it a nasty cut. And getting glass shards off of your friend’s shell. And putting a bone back in it’s rightful place after a particularly bad fall.

Yeah. Long night. And a tense one, too.

Because with the physical pain came the chock and residual fears, the anger and blaming. Everyone was stil on guard, and all that tension was exhausting. You barely slept, too worried that one of your friend’s state would degrade if you didn’t keep an eye on them at all times. Which didn’t really help you get the rest you needed.

If you were hoping the morning would be kinder on all of you, you quickly realized that it was a mistake. While, luckily for the turles, the mutagen was already healing their physical wounds, the emotional exhaustion of the previous night was still heavy. Of all of your conscious friends, not one dared break the eerie silence.

It was weird, seeing them like this. But you couldn’t force yourself to say anything, strangely scared of what could happen. You resumed to making breakfast for everyone and bringing clean towels to the still sleeping feverish turtle in the medbay. Splinter and Mikey were at the kitchen table, quietly accepting your offering, when Leo came into the room from the medbay.

He was still half asleep, and in his drowsiness didn’t see the wall he accidentally ran into.

“Oh, sorry. Didn’t see you there.”

Everyone turned to Leo, who it took a solid minute of staring blindly at the wall to realize what just happened.

Donnie was the first to laugh. It didn’t take long for april and Mikey to join, soon followed by Splinter affectionately patting his son’s arm. Leo smiled and shook his head, as their lighthearted laugh was contagious.

The leader in blue was more of a goofball than what you first expected, and you were grateful for it in the fading tensions of the morning.

______________________

One time he wasn't

When someone intrudes your home, especially at 4 am when you were sleeping in the next room, a lot of things go through your head.

Did they take anything?

Yes. Your bag with your wallet, some cash, your credit card, your ID, and a few fidelity cards from various stores. Your laptop. A set of keys. That one blanket Raph made you (probably to carry everything without making too much noise).

Why you?

Why not? Your apartment isn't isolated, but it's not exactly on a main street either. It was probably practical for them.

Were they armed?

Who knows. Maybe. Maybe not. Probably. Statistically, most likely.

What could have happened if you had tried to confront them?

A lot of things. Maybe, if you let them know you were awake and knew what was going on, without necessarily confronting them, it would have been enough to make them run away. Or maybe there were multiple armed people, and they wouldn't hesitate to use force if necessary.

Who knows.

Can the police find this person?

Statistically? No. At least, that's what Casey told you when you asked him. Unless they got really lucky, they won't find anything.

Or at least the stuff they stole?

Again, unlikely. Unless they can trace your laptop back to the guy, or someone can give a physical description and a direction, there's not a lot they can do.

What can you do now?

Call your bank. And your insurance. And your landlord. Let them know what happened and follow their directive, they'll guide you through their procedure and help you soften the blow.

Casey was the first person you called when you woke up this night, and he was at your place within minutes with two other colleagues (the closest he could find). He spent the rest of the night reassuring you, helping you with the phone calls, asking around for witnesses, but nothing.

It's weird, feeling unsafe for the first time in a place you had called Home for years. It's disturbing. You can feel the nausea your anxiety is giving you, and a headache starts to grow at the back of your skull.

You don't really like this feeling.

So when your turtle friends dropped by the next evening without telling you and you welcomed them with a swing of your favorite pan, let's just say reactions were split.

"I can hack into your computer to find its location if you want. Wouldn't be the first time."

"What?"

"What? I mean, I didn't do it for your location last time. I know all about your search history, though."

"We're gonna have a talk about boundaries and privacy once we're done dealing with that," you sigh. You crash down on the couch next to your friend and mindlessly watch him work.

Leo comes up to you and gently nudges your shoulder. "Hey, do you have a toolbox somewhere? We brought locks to put on your door and windows. You know, just in case."

You nod, quiet, and lead him to your room where you keep most of the most useful stuff you own, including but not limited to a toolbox and a first aid kit.

Your movements were almost mechanical as you retrieved the box and handed it to him, and you decided to help him put up the locks to keep your mind occupied.

He was concerned. You looked like you were still in choc, which he could completely understand. Getting robbed is awful in itself, but getting robbed while you're sleeping in the next room? Horrific, in his mind.

He was also furious. He couldn't be there for you. This person had the nerves to go after his friend, and what if you got hurt? He wouldn't have been able to do anything about it.

He noticed he was staring when your eyes met his.

"Hey. We're gonna do whatever we can to find them. We're also gonna focus our patrols in your neighborhood for at least a few weeks, until you feel better," he puts a hand on your shoulder. "It's gonna be okay Y/N. Trust me."

You look up to him, and when you look into his eyes, you know he means it. You let your head fall against his plastron as he holds you against him, a silent promise for safety.

"Hey shorty," Raph pulls his head into the crack of the door to address you. "Wanna learn how to fight? I can turn you into a death machine."

You heard the faint "Raph, what the fuck" coming from Mikey who was still in the living room.

You gave a small laugh as you got up, Leo following you closely to the living room.

"Hey! Fighting isn't for everyone. But I could make you a really cool taser, if you want."

"What's with you and tasers?"

"They're efficient."

The bell ringed and April came in holding 4 boxes of pizza, that Mikey assisted her with as soon as she set a foot inside.

You looked around at your friends as April brandished the pizzas like a trophy while Raph and Donnie went back and forth trying to decide who, between man power and electricity, would win in a fight.

And you realized that yes, Leo was right.

It's gonna be okay.

#bayverse tmnt #tmnt #tmnt x reader #tw: injuries #tw: blood #tw: break in #tmnt leonardo #tmnt donatello #tmnt 2k16 #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt raphael #tmnt casey #tmnt april #tmnt splinter #OOOOOOOF #took me a while #hope you like it!

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rebeccccccaaa · 4 years ago

Text

𝚈𝚎𝚜, 𝙲𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗

___________________________

𝚂𝚝𝚎𝚟𝚎 𝚁𝚘𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚁𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍: (ANON) Since I love your Imagines, I thought I could request something to you :) Maybe some Steve smut where you''ve been dating for a while and Steve just came home after a two month Long Mission and you both have missed each other like crazy. So as soon as he enters your shared Apartment wearing his uniform, you get totally turned on by this sight and he knows how this affects you. So you’re soon all over each other and spend the night in love making and later cuddling? 😊

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: SMUT 18+ minors dni, captain kink yessss, and some daddy kink, itty bitty amount of flufffff (actually kinda a lot)

𝙰𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛’𝚜 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜: hot

__________________________

“Alright, good mission you guys. Fill out your paperwork as usual and go rest, you deserve it,” Steve voice echoed to the people below. He walked out Nat trailing behind him.

“Alright I’m gonna head home, I’m sure Y/n misses me a bunch. This was a long mission,” Steve smiled.

“You’re not gonna change?” she raised her brow.

“No,” Steve replied.

“You always do ,” she said.

“So?”

“Ok, nasty,” she walked away.

“I heard that!” he shouted, making her giggle running away.

Steve got on his bike and rode through the streets of New York, every now and then hearing a hoot from someone, fans of America's golden boy. He parked his bike and walked to the elevator to reunite with you in your apartment after two months.

He missed you so much it was eating him alive. He called you every chance he got but it wasn’t enough; he wanted to hear your voice in person. He looked at the photos you sent him, naughty and nice, but it wasn’t enough; he wanted to touch you and hold you.

He got on the floor of the apartment and nearly sprinted down the hall. He opened the door and found you humming in the kitchen making yourself food. He stayed quiet and closed the door ever so quietly. He placed his shield down silently and walked to the counter with a soft smile on his face.

“Steve!” you shouted when you turned around.

You set the dish down and ran around the counter nearly taking him down with the brute force of a hug. You littered kisses all over his face making him laugh hysterically.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so happy you’re home!” you squeaked.

“I missed you baby,” he said muffled in your neck.

“I made food but I don’t know if it’ll be enough-” you stopped.

“What?” he asked.

“You didn’t change,” you whispered.

“No, I wanted to get home as soon as possible. Is there a problem?” he smirked. Of course there was a problem. Every time you see Steve in the suit you can’t help the wetness that pools in your panties. Your breathing quickened and your mouth watered at simply the sight of him. And he fucking knew. Else he would’ve changed, the bastard.

“No it’s not. I just wasn’t expecting yo to be in your suit,” you mumbled.

“Expecting what?” Steve teased, pretending he couldn’t hear you.

“Tell me, baby. Were you a good girl for your captain while I was away?” his finger lifted your chin.

“Yes, captain,” you whispered; your hands came up and moved swiftly across his broad chest.

“Did you miss your captain?”

“Yes, captain,” you bit your lip and pressed your thighs together in arousal.

“How much?” he smirked.

“So much,” you whimpered, “I thought about you everyday.”

“Did you touch yourself when I was gone?”

You hesitated, dropping your arms. Steve didn’t like it when you touched yourself. He always said you don’t need those stupid toys by which you agreed very much so. He always pleasured you when you wanted and needed. And especially when he would leave for missions and he came back, the sex was always satisfying.

But this time he was gone for so long you could take it anymore.

“Answer me,” he said sternly.

“I’m sorry, Captain. You were gone for so long,” you cried.

“Tsk tsk,” he shook his head, “You know the rules, baby girl.”

You sniffled and when Steve gave you that look you scurried to your shared room. You sat anxiously on the bed simply wearing a sweatshirt and a pair of panties. Your body shook as you heard the quiet thumps as Steve came up the stairs. He came inside the room in all his glorified uniform, radiating confidence and dominance.

You ached for him.

“Baby girl, I was so excited to come home but you broke one of my rules,” he undid his fingerless gloves.

“So what do you think is gonna happen?”

“You’re gonna punish me,” you whispered, making him nod.

“Lay back for me, legs spread so I can that gorgeous pussy,” he commanded.

You laid back resting on your elbows and you spread on legs wide. The wet spot clearly visible on your panties made Steve's dick grow hard. You waited further instruction, biting your lip in anticipation. You could see Steve's eyes grow black with lust and hunger and that made your stomach flutter and flip.

“Touch yourself,” he said, sitting on a single couch chair across from the bed.

Without a second thought you snaked your hand down your front, slipping your fingers past your panties and slowly circled your clit. Your breathing quickened and you moved your fingers quicker. Steve was right there and you wished he would just touch you. You were getting closer to your release until Steve’s authoritative voice pulled you from your climax.

“Enough,” Steve said.

“But- but, I didn’t-”

“You didn’t come?” he mocked.

“No, captain,” you whined.

“Well, that’s too bad; bad girls don’t get to cum. Touch yourself again,” he commanded.

You circled your fingers again quickly chasing your orgasm.

“Slower,” his voice was deep.

You slowed down to a tortuously slow speed and your whimpers were trembled and shaky trying your best to not cum. Steve unzipped the bottom part of his suit and pulled out his cock. He pumped it in his fist throwing his head back in pleasure.

“Please Captain. Let me cum, please,” you cried.

“Nu-uh not yet,” he continued chasing his own high.

You whined and whimpered, slowing down to not cum. You missed Steve so much so you listened to everything he asked you to do in hopes that being a good girl will let him reward you sooner. Your finger grew tired and you soon came to a halt; still desperate to cum.

“Did I say you could stop?” Steve’s voice startled you.

“Dip your fingers inside baby girl,” he told you.

You moved your panties to the side and slowly dipped your cold fingers past your folds. You moaned loudly as you trusted them in and out slowly. Steve stared hungrily at you breathing hard, moving his hand up and down his shaft quickly.

Your own moans grew louder and louder with each passing second and tears brimmed your eyes silently begging Steve to let you cum. Steve was so enamored with how beautiful you looked squirming and whining in front of him. He couldn’t hold back anymore and released all over his hand.

“Steve, can I come now? Please?” you begged, your finger stilling inside you.

“Of course you can, just not yet,” he smirked evilly, making you whine and grunt.

Steve walked to you and pulled your panties down your legs; the wetness sticking to your inner thighs. He kneel to the floor instantly and you moaned simply at the sight of him settling between your legs. He kissed your legs staring lustfully into your eyes.

“You want me to make you cum? Have you had enough?” he mocked.

“Yes, Captain! Please, I need your mouth, fuck!” you squirmed.

“Now don’t get greedy, baby,” he smirked before pressing his tongue against your core.

He licked your swollen clit and your body shuddered, and he squeezed your thighs before running his hands to place his hand over your breasts. Steve pinched your nipples slightly and you gasped before moaning softly. He knew how sensitive your breasts got during sex and he always made sure to give just as much attention as they needed.

“Captain, your mouth feels so good. I’m gonna cum!” you squeaked. Steve instantly pulled away from you and gasped in shock as to why he pulled away.

“Please, no more teasing. Please, let me come. I’ve been a good girl, Captain, please,” you begged.

Steve chuckled darkly before sucking on your swollen bud once again. Steve hands slid down to hold your hips still as he brought you to edge again with his tongue. You moans got higher and he knew you were going to come soon so he pulled away again, peppering kisses along the inside of your thigh as you cried.

He did this for what felt like an eternity. His moans harmonizing with yours before pulling away at the last second right before your climax. Your hand tugged on his hair and your heels dug into the thick material of his suit in a fit when he would do so only to pull a deeper gruttal moan from him.

After he edged nearly 8 times he grew needy too and could resist any longer. His own cock became painful with neglect. He stood up from the floor and your body trembled desperate to release but couldn’t. You whispered pleas and whines as Steve crawled above you.

“You gonna break daddy’s rules when he’s away again?” he whispered against your lips.

“No, never again. Please daddy,” you whined.

“Awe baby, no more crying. Daddy’s gonna take care of you now,” he pushed his cock through your soaking wet folds and you breathed out shakily. You grabbed onto his uniform clad shoulders, your hands small compared to his broad shoulders.

“So fucking tight, baby,” Steve hiked your leg over hip; hitting a new angle, a deeper angle. You looked up at Steve with nothing but love and adoration in your eyes. His eyes met yours and he gave a smirk before you pulled him down crashing your lips against his.

He moaned beautifully in the kiss, his hands coming up to your jaw. He pushed his tongue past your lips kissing you messily just how you liked it. Your hands circled to his hair and brushed through your fingers lightly scratching his scalp.

“Fuck, you have no idea how badly daddy miss his best girl,” he moaned.

“I thought about you every fucking night,” he kissed you.

“Oh, fuck. I love you, Stevie,” you cupped his face.

“I love you too, baby girl. Gah, I can feel ya clenching around my cock; you gonna cum for me? Let it all go?”

“Yes! Please, let me cum!”

“Alright, since you’ve been such a good girl for your captain. Go ahead, baby,” he permissed.

You cried out, arching your back into Steve’s chest. Tears fell down your temples into your hair and Steve buried face into your neck pounding his hips to yours chasing his release. Your arms wrapped around him and hastily pulled him against. Steve groaned loudly in your ear as he came in you.

He pulled his dick out seeing him cum mixed with yours leaking from between your thighs. He noted your tired state; hair splatter across the pillows, the sweat that lined your forehead and between your breasts, the way your chest heaved up and down, you were so angelic.

“Baby, are you alright?” he smiled at you.

“Hm-mh,” you grinned.

“Guess what? I bought a new book,” you eyes lit up at his words.

“How about I run you a bath and I can start readin’ it to you. How does that sound?” he brushed your hair from face.

“Yes, please,” you kissed his nose.

Steve ran the bath and you hopped in the hot water instantly soothing your body. Steve had now undressed from his uniform wearing simply a pair of sweatpants; no shirt. He read the words on the page and you just listened and watched him with devotion.

“Stevie, I missed you,” you smiled.

“I missed you too baby girl,” he leaned down to kiss you chastely before returning to read the book he bought for you.

====================

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: (For all my work)

@mathletemadison

@buckybarnes101

@l-sofiamia-l

#steve rogers #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #marvel fics #marvel smut #chris evans smut

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svucarisiaddict · 3 years ago

Text

Uncertainties

“If I wasn’t actually in your wedding I would swear you’re making Ryan up,” your friend, Melanie quipped. Your group of friends laughed at the ongoing joke.

You gave her a small smile. “Yeah,” you said. “But he is up for a promotion so he’ll be home more.” Hopefully, you said to yourself.

“Seriously, I don’t know why you put up with that,” she responded.

As a detective with the NYPD CSU, Ryan could be called to a scene any time of day. CSU covered all boroughs of New York City and they were severely understaffed.

The jokes got old sometimes but instead of ruining the evening with your friend, you took it in stride. “Easy. The sex is phenomenal.”

“I’ll drink to that!” Melanie exclaimed.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” a soft voice said. The bed dipped down with Ryan’s weight as he sat on the side of the bed. He brushed the hair from your face. “There’s my beautiful wife.”

“How are you up already?” You knew for a fact Ryan got home after you. You fluttered your eyes open. “Jesus, you’ve even gone for a jog,” you grumbled seeing his sweaty hair flopped over his forehead. He only had on his running pants by this point.

Ryan chuckled. “I’m starving so let’s get you outta bed.”

“If you want me to get up, then you’re gonna have to make me,” you said with a smirk, allowing the sheet to fall partially exposing your naked body.

Ryan swallowed hard. “Is that a challenge?” Ryan asked. He skimmed his hand up your bare thigh as his eyes took in every inch of your exposed skin.

“Maybe, or perhaps it’s a suggestion,” you asserted. You grabbed Ryan and pulled him on top of you. Sliding your hand down you cupped his erection making him take in a sucking breath.

Ryan crashed his lips into yours as you pushed his pants over his hips and down his legs. He grasped your hips pulling you to him and sank into your wet core.

Both of you moaned, pausing for a moment before he began to slowly rock into you.

A few weeks later you found yourself at the pharmacy comparing pregnancy tests. After picking one out of the dozens to choose from, you quickly paid then hurried home.

Twenty minutes later you were staring at a pink and white stick to tell you your future. The word pregnant appeared in the small window. You slid down the wall onto the cool, tile floor grasping the test in your hand.

A tear ran down your cheek. Ryan would not be pleased to hear this news. A few months ago the two of you had gotten into an argument about starting a family. You were ready and had been for some time. Ryan on the other hand wanted to wait.

The argument resulted in you sleeping in the guest bedroom for a few nights before resigning yourself to the fact that you weren’t going to change his mind. Not that you wanted to do the changing. He had to be ready and wanting as much as you were. So the timing probably seemed suspicious.

As you were trying to decide how to tell Ryan you heard him come home.

“Babe!” he called out excitedly. “Where are you?”

You swiped the tears from your cheeks then buried the test in the trash under an empty shampoo bottle. “Coming,” you answered back.

Ryan greeted you with the biggest smile. “I got it!”

“Got it? Oh! The promotion! That’s wonderful!” You threw your arms around his neck.

Ryan picked you up, wrapping you in a big hug. His lips found yours for a warm, wet kiss. “Thank you for believing in me.” He sat you on your feet and ran one finger down your cheek.

“This calls for a night out.”

As you were perusing the menu a long sigh escaped Ryan's lips. “What’s wrong?”

“Doesn’t that bother you?”

You furrowed your brow. “What?” you asked looking around the restaurant.

“That crying kid disrupting dinner,” he replied with a shake of his head. “That will never be us. Sitter or we don’t go out.”

“Hmmm, yeah,” you responded watching as the father soothed the upset toddler.

“Hello? I asked if you want to get a bottle of wine?” Ryan asked.

How were you going to answer that? “You go ahead. Someone has to drive home. It’s your night.”

“Or,” Ryan started, “we can get a cab. Make out in the back on the way home.”

“Screw the wine. Let’s leave now,” you joked. “Really you go ahead. I don’t feel like drinking tonight.”

“C’mon. One glass. I mean we don’t have to work tomorrow, we don't have to drive home. What possible reason could you have to not want to share in a celebratory glass of wine with your husband?” He raised his brows and held your gaze.

He knew. You could tell by the way he looked at you and how he was asking the questions. Your hands gripped the seat of the chair. The test should have been hidden better but you panicked when he came home.

“Damn it. We talked about this.”

“I know,” you said in a low voice looking at the hands now clasped in your lap. “I’m sorry.”

“Well, it takes two to tango.” Ryan sighed. “Unless it was an immaculate conception.”

When you looked up Ryan was grinning. “You’re not mad?”

Ryan shrugged. “When I found the test I was… shocked. Still am.”

“Me too,” you said.

“When do you think the shock will pass?”

“Maybe when he’s eighteen,” you replied.

Ryan chuckled. “So we’re having a baby.”

“Yeah.”

He took your hand in his, kissing the back of it. “Then we have another reason to celebrate.”

#ryan o'halloran #law and order svu #csu

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fanfiction-inc · 3 years ago

Text

“It Takes Two to Win a Race.” Chapter II

[Previous Chapter] / [Next Chapter]

Verse: Falcon And The Winter Soldier / Captain America And The Winter Soldier / Captain America: Civil War/ Marvel Alternate Universe

Characters/Pairings: Baron Zemo/ Reader, Baron Zemo/ Female Reader, John Walker

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 8971

Warnings/Tags: Drinking, smut, m/f, oral (female receiving), vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, drunk sex, Google translated translations, Walker is an asshole and just keeps getting worse.

Summary: Baron Helmut Zemo, world renowned racer and your sworn enemy on the track. You two have been going at it for years now, but now you two must join forces to fight back against John Walker, a new up and coming racer who is proving to beat both of you. Will you two survive the other or meet your demise on the track?

Ao3 Version: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32606833/chapters/81176392?view_adult=true

This is a mess. An absolute, blazing mess that sits before you in the middle of your workshop. The chassis was dented all to Hell, a new one having to be rebuilt and delivered to fix your custom car. The engine had parts missing that were left at the crash sight when it was towed away. One car to your name, and it was fucked up. Maybe you should have taken Stark’s sponsorship and invested in a backup. Sitting on the cement floor of the workshop, screwdriver in hand as you pry out bits and pieces of parts from the engine, taking note of the parts and working on the budget you had set out for this year's series of races, you dreaded the moment you’d see the total cost. This repair would take a nice chunk, but you still had money left over after to make sure your car was at its best. That was the thing about working with your car, it was just you and this beast of metal and speed, working as one to reach the end of the line. The screwdriver is set down at your side when you struggled too long on getting the broken interconnecting rod that links the turbine from the compressor, a sigh following as you sit back. A slow sense of dread fills you as you look at the broken parts scattering the ground, the missing parts on your list, and the purple paint that still streaks the busted carbon fiber chassis.

Working with Zemo was a dangerous game, which you recognized even before you shook on the arrangement he had proposed. He was wicked on the course, predictable at times but at others a ticking time bomb of what his next move may be. He was dangerous, but that is what made him damn good. He took far more risk than you usually would when it came to advancement in the race. Where you held back, he pushed forward. No wonder the man infuriated you. But this plan was the only thing you had to get things back to normal, back to the way they were where you hated Zemo with a passion and fought tooth and nail to stay better than him. You would never admit it, but without your rival, what fun was the race? See, it's not only the thrill of the chase between the driver and death, inching closer and closer with each hairpin turn and the risk of the other driver's moves. No, it’s also the thrill of having someone who wants to win just as bad as you, who is just as good and will do anything to try and progress further than you. It sets a standard, something to surpass, something to stay on level ground with when you catch yourself falling. Zemo was your equal, no matter how much you hated him. And equals like you two don’t have room for a third party to jump in and surpass. The game isn’t any fun when someone fucks with the rules. He had a point when it came to beating Walker down, especially since the man was already fighting you both with molotov cocktails and rocket fire in the form of playing dirty on the track. He was bringing a war to a battle just to see if he could come out on top. Despite everything telling you to stay away from Zemo and not get involved in this scheme, that it could end badly for one or both of you, you couldn’t stand the idea of having Walker walk all over you like some doormat. You couldn’t let him walk in as if he owned the place and could rule as he pleased.

He needed a reality check.

Your form pops and cracks as you stand, stiff from sitting on the solid ground and stretching to relieve your body of the tension. Everything felt so wrong, and you knew you had to make it right...But was this the right way to do it? “Jesus, you sound like that rice cereal with the little elves. You know, snap, crackle, and pop?” You laugh lightly when your friend comes into the workshop, food in hand and dressed down from the usual luxury attire he wore when visiting. No suit and tie in sight, just the oil stained wife beater you had seen him in when pursuing your education in the states as he worked tirelessly on his little toys as you liked to call them. He sets the bag down, the scent of the food causing your stomach to growl and pinch with a hint of pain. Have you really forgotten to eat today? You hadn’t noticed. “Got your favorite. Do you know how hard it is to find a restaurant that speaks English? I had to have Friday translate for me.”

“Maybe you should take a new hobby and learn the French language.” You retorted with a grin, the man shaking his head as he sets everything out. “Maybe I want you as my teacher, but you’re always busy with driving around in your fast little car and getting famous for fighting a Sokovian asshole.”

“And you’re too busy tinkering away with your toys in your little workshop in New York. Truly Tony, don’t tell me you actually want me as your teacher when your toys can teach you for me.” You pause as he rolled his eyes, watching the man for a brief moment as he turned to unwrap his burger. “Speaking of said Sokovian connard, he came to the bar I was at last night.” The man paused mid bite on the thick patty before speaking with his mouth full. “Okay, spill, what did he want?”

“Well originally I thought he was going to cuss me and try to blame me for the failure to complete the race yesterday, but he showed me something. You know the young man who won the race yesterday, corriger? John Walker?”

“Yeah, I know the guy. Races for the American McLaren team and came straight from F3 to F1. What’d he do?”

He raises a brow when you sigh, taking a seat beside him on the desk he had set the food down on and stealing the dish he had brought you. “Zemo showed me proof that Walker hit his car and sent him flying into mine. And I believe he did it on purpose.” You explain, taking a bite of the food your companion got for you. You pause for a moment to chew before returning to your theory. “On my way to the car bay, he smirked at me, and it wasn’t a “I won” smirk- well, it kinda was, but it was rather a “I did this to you” kind of smirk. Not necessarily an evil one but one that showed he knew exactly what he had done and was proud of it. Pride in an unfair act.”

“And no flags were thrown up?”

“Non, not a one. As our friend the Baron said,” you cringe at the term friend, “the ones watching the race possibly couldn’t tell if he had done such on purpose or by accident. I believe him about such. And I suppose that brings me to what I’m about to say next.” You take a breath, gaze conflicted and downcast to your food as you speak. “The Baron offered a temporary truce of our rivalry to take down this John Walker, thus allowing us to return to what we do best after Walker is taken down.” He listened intently before his nose scrunched at the idea of such. You two working together? Ha! That’d never work! “And you said yes to this crazy idea? What the Hell are you thinking, (first name)?” Your hands shoot up in defense, gaze rising to meet his own. “I know, I know! It’s a crazy idea, but you know as well as I do that if Zemo and I want things back to normal, back to the rivalry, we have to do this together so Walker is met with further resistance. If I could avoid it and deal with this American scum, no offense, then I would.”

“Some taken, but I get it. I just wonder if you two will go back to the way things are after all of this. Who knows, maybe you’ll become that dreaded word you hate to associate with him in any capacity-”

“Ne t'avise pas de le dire, Anthony.”

“Friendssss.” He draws it out, causing you to roll your eyes at his antics and slap his arm with the back of your grimey hand. He pretended to show a hurt expression before chuckling when another slap came, this time to his chest. “Oh hush, we will never be friends.”

“I guess time will tell.” A shrug followed as Stark finished the last bite of his burger, crumbling the wrapper and lining up the shot with the waste bin in the corner. “He shoots,” the paper lands in the bin, his arms going up in the air. “He scores!”

“Stop goofing around, ma amie. I asked for your help with this and now I need it.”

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

Three weeks have passed, and the Germany race is upon you. The Nürburgring, a beast of a track that many racers to this day in Formula 1 fear like a plague sweeping the track. Your mind has been racing as you pieced your car back together and got it ready for racing. What happens if something wasn’t installed in the engine right? What if you didn’t get the intake vents lined up just right? You were a perfectionist with your car, and you know deep down that it was ready for race day but it made your head sing with pain as a migraine sets in. That wasn’t the only thing that made it throb and bring you to lean against the chassis of your car. Zemo’s deal, it worried you sick. But you didn’t have time to think about it much today. You couldn’t dwell on it. You had a race to win.

Your eyes flick up at the speakers, listening to the message. It was press conference time. You take your seat where your name tag and flag set, giving a nod of acknowledgement to the crowd of reporters sitting and waiting to open up questioning. To your left, Walker seats himself with a boyish, charming smile that didn’t quite meet those dark eyes. He looked your way, hand held out to you. “Hey, I hate that we didn’t get to meet earlier on. I’m John Walker.” You glance at his hand before looking back up at him. He played a good game, acting innocent like the boy scout he tried to be. You wouldn’t fall for his games, but you shook his hand briefly. “(First name) (Last name).” He grinned. “Oh, I know who you are. I’ve been watching you race for years now! I hate that you crashed a couple weeks ago, would have loved to have been standing on that podium with you.”

“Oui, such a shame that was. But today is a new day, Mr. Walker.” Your gaze flickered to your right, startled by your rival taking his seat and looking directly at the pair of you. The Baron never sat beside you, even going as far as to request a seat change from the press conference coordinators. Some learned to keep you two separate, others knew it would incur drama, and drama made money.

“Alright everyone, please take your seats and the conference will begin in one moment!”

“Say, did you get your car all fixed up? Must have cost a pretty penny since you don’t have any sponsors.” Walker continued on, this time his gaze looking at the reporters as he gave a brief wave to the ones he recognized from the states. “Oui.” He gave a huff of a laugh. “Not much of a talker, are you?” You wanted to bite back, to say something and throw hands with this man, but you would be escorted out and disqualified in a snap. “Non.” A leg bumped yours under the table and you glance at Zemo who met your gaze briefly. Those dark brown eyes questioned if you were okay, a silent question that only you understood. The slightest nod was sent his way before looking at the reporters who got things settled and ready.

“Questions are now open-” The announcer was startled with the amount of questions directed in the direction of you three, clearing his throat as he nodded to your little trio at the table. Mr. Walker!” He gestured to the reporter, watching him stand and adjust his microphone and camera. “Mr. Walker, this question is open to the three of you. Under allegations from the previous race at The Circuit Paul Ricard, many are wondering if you had caused the accident involving Zemo and (Last name). How do you feel about these accusations?” The man had the audacity to laugh and throw that boyish smile to the camera, rubbing at his face. “Look, that was not supposed to happen once so ever. As many of my fellow racers can attest, one wrong slip of the hand on your wheel and your car will eventually go off track. I got nervous, twitched, and just so happened to bump the Baron’s car into Ms. (Last name)’s car. I feel terrible, I truly do, but it could have happened to anyone with any driver. So I refute these accusations and continue to say this is an accident.”

“And you, Baron, Ms. (Last name). How do you feel about the accusations?” The reporter gestured his question to you two now. “I respect your opinion, Mr. Walker,” Zemo began, the man smiling and sending a nod his way. “But I call, as the Americans say, bullshit.” His smile fell, darkened gaze questioning the man on what the Hell he was going on about. The reporters erupted in questioning, trying to get the attention of the two racers who stare each other down around you. You lean back a bit for them to have a better view-line, One of the American reporters calling your name. You use this moment to break the tension. “Oui?”

“Do you believe you stand a chance as a woman against these two leading men now that John Walker is starting to gain points and nearing your total?” You blink at his question before taking a deep breath, holding it to calm your throbbing head, and releasing it slowly. “Oui, I do. I believe I can keep up just as well as any racer. Take my racing career with Zemo. I have kept up with his old extrémité arrière.” The French reporters in the room resound in a fit of chuckles, bringing a smile to your face. “And against Walker?” You meet his gaze as he stares at you expectantly for an answer, forcing that smile he tried to use on you earlier. “I believe I stand quite a good chance, but que le meilleur coureur gagne.” You shrug, listening as the smaller drivers get asked their questions. The whole time there are eyes burning into the left side of your head, waiting until the racers are dismissed. Walker watches you as you walk out, watching the way Zemo comes up in tow as you make your way to the car bay. Something was up, and he could feel that there were clearly doubts in your mind about the accident in France. He would just have to deal with you later. “(First name), wait!” Zemo followed you into the bay, slowing from his jog to keep up with you to a stop near the desk holding your notes about the race and your vehicle. “I haven’t had a chance to talk with you in person since the bar.” He paused, looking into those eyes of yours that gaze at him curiously. “Are you ready for this, fräulein?”

“Aussi prêt que possible, Baron.” You busy yourself with inspecting your car for any last minute changes, the man watching you as you inspect and work. “Good, good. And we are still a go, yes?”

“Oui, we are still, as you said, a go.” He grinned at you, gaze flickering down your back as he looked over your uniform. Of course he had noticed you in all aspects before, talent and skill being the top, but never had he been this close like the night at the bar and now to really see you. Maybe after all of this, even with the rivalry, you could be friends, dare he say anything more than such. “You’re staring.” You quip, breaking him from his trance to meet your gaze. The faintest hint of color lingered on your cheeks. He coughed, trying to clear away the embarrassment lingering in his form. Why was he getting embarrassed? “Just thinking about what will be left behind when I pass you on the track, mein liebe.” Your eye roll doesn’t go unnoticed, the man relaxing due to how calm you are around him. No biting his head off, no anger, just chill. You stand and give a playful shove to his shoulder, smiling at the Sokovian. “In your dreams, Sokovian. Now, get the fuck out of my car bay.” He smiled to himself as he walked away, mind now clouded by the smile that lingered on your lips. He liked when you smiled, and he had to make sure this plan worked.

The race was gearing up to start, the same process as before coming into play. Car, balaclava, wheel. You take your moment to breathe, today your speed has placed you in second, just as the plan entailed. Zemo took the first position. He glanced your way, sending a nod in your direction, only to smirk beneath the balaclava when you flip him off like usual. The rivalry was still on, no matter what he would still have that after dealing with Walker. Still have you in one sense or another. Your glance focused in on the man across the way in the pole position opposite of you, his eyes locked on the two of you before meeting your gaze. There he stares you down, even as his helmet slipped on. The visor was flipped down at the one minute warning, eliminating the final clarifying view of his gaze. It was clear he was cautious of you, maybe even lingering with hate.

“Fahrer! Starten...sie ihre....Motoren!

That familiar purr settles into your chest, spreading through your body like a dam breaking and flooding the valley below. It stirs up the motivation to win once more, removing any doubt from your mind as you rev your engine. Zemo was right, Walker had to be stopped. With this attitude about racing, playing his little mind games and wrecking racers, he’d get someone killed just for first place. You couldn’t allow that...but you also couldn’t allow the rivalry you have established with Zemo to be broken because of someone else. There was too much there to be lost. Your fingers tighten around the wheel, licking your lips beneath the helmet as you prepare yourself for takeoff. The lights start counting down the race. Five seconds away, one green and two red lights. You watch them count down until the bottom lines of red are fully lit, then they flash off. You’re off, following Zemo right on the tail of his car as you start into the track. This track was a beast, your mind racing as it remembers every nook and cranny of it. Seventy three corners, eleven danger points, hair pin turns, all on a 12.8 mile long course that was deadly in the onset of any weather and people who get careless with their moves. Lucky enough, the sky was only overcast. No rain, little wind to interfere with the aerodynamics and mobility of the chassis, just the perfect chill in the air to remind you where you were in this moment. You take your turns with ease, avoiding the group of cars that began to follow suit on the track behind your own. Your eyes remained locked in on every shift to your side, Walker keeping close by within each turn and danger point you went through.

As you drive, Walker gets up past you within one of the speed trap areas, the stretch of road allowing him to be up beside Zemo and leave you on the back of their tires. Zemo had a plan, you believed in this plan… but had he just been toying with you to get closer to Walker? Doubt clouded your mind, even as you sped up in an attempt to join the boys directly in the front. Perhaps you shouldn’t have followed this plan, even as you get through the first twenty five laps, then the next twenty five. Each turn brought your tyres closer to Walkers who eyed you cautiously from time to time, as if silently daring you to pull a move like he did. Maybe you’d be caught and black flagged. Hell, that would make his fucking day if that happened. As he watched you, he had failed to notice on the wider strip of the track how Zemo began to drift further and further ahead. Then he was side tracked, Zemo slowing abruptly and stealing the attention of the young American driver. “What the Hell!?” He yelled over the roar of multiple motors, watching your car join Zemo’s side and the original speed be resumed. Now you sat beside Zemo on the track, pedal to the floorboard as you two kept your lead and basically walled Walker in. Each time he tried to drift around, one of you would shift your car just enough to keep him locked in. A grin met your lips as you drove, the energy of the race taking a whole new shift as you got closer and closer to the last lap with your rival right at your side. Tips of the chassis lined up perfectly, rear aerodynamic fins aligned like a well oiled machine. You two were in perfect sync as you put Zemo’s plan into action. Create a wall of impenetrable magnitude. If Walker tried anything, all three of you would go down. If he tried to get around, he would be blocked. There was no getting out from behind you two.

The checkered flag waved in the quickly approaching distance, your gaze for a moment looking at your rival. The blur of purple was steady, lined with yours like that of an air jet's flight coordination. Perfectly straight, and running at full throttle like you are. As your cars pass the finish line, debate begins to rise. It was too close in the end to call, at least not right away. You slow, allowing the purple beast to pass by and enter the pit before you, a silent gesture of courtesy to the man you worked with. He sent a small nod your way when he watched you get out of your car, helmet removed along with his balaclava and revealing the joyful grin resting on his lips. Anyone else would mistaken it for cockiness, but the look in his eyes said it all. You two did it, you beat Walker in the race! He must be furious! A breath is held on your end, helmet and the fabric covering your face discarded as you turn your gaze away from the arriving racers and the man you drove along with. You were locked in on that score board, curiosity eating at you for who may have won the race. You were neck in neck with the man, the smallest push forward could earn either of you the points for the day. No names shown yet, and you anxiously leaned on the hot surface of the carbon fiber vehicle as you waited. Each noise around you from the slow dwindle of engines to low, fading purrs to the pit crews of your respective teams surrounding you, your rival, and the newcomer were drowned out by the pounding of your heart as it flooded your ear drums. It felt like hours passed as you kept your gaze locked on, ignoring the happy clamour of your crew, the clasp of hands on your shoulder and pats on your back, even down to the ruffling of your hair in glee. Then it flashed up.

1st: (First initial). (Last name)

1st: H. Zemo

2nd: J. Walker

The press goes crazy over the news, each respective country reporting their amazement over the finishing results.

“Ein fehlerfreier, aber überraschender Sieg für Baron Helmut Zemo, der mit (First name) (Last name) gleichauf den ersten Platz belegt!”

“Victoire pour la championne de France (First name) (Last name) alors qu'elle rejoint le Baron Helmut Zemo dans une rare égalité!”

“In a remarkable and truly unprecedented event in The Nürburgring F1 race! Baron Helmet Zemo and (First name) (Last name) tied in a photo finish for first place, a rare occurrence that has set back American racer John Walker from the potential for first place!”

Your breath comes out shaky, slowly slipping out as reality hits you like a wrecking ball to a brick wall. The air leaves your lungs as a happy noise rings out from your lips, joining your crew in the celebration as they hug and surround you. You placed first. Zemo placed first. Curiosity met you, your gaze looking to the man who celebrated with his own crew before allowing himself a chance to settle his gaze on you in turn. There he sent a wink, a silent congratulations that made you shake your head at his antics before refocusing on the celebration. You would be standing with the man in first place on that podium, both sharing the victory wreath and spraying champagne all over the crowd of fans and your respective pit crews who were basking in the glory just as much as you two were. You couldn’t help the glee bubbling up in your form, even as you make your way not too far from your rival. For a second, just a split second, you let the rivalry go and let your smile be seen in accompaniment with his gleeful grin, shoulders bumping when you’re positioned at the podium by the F1 management crew. Press swarm to the area like flies to a summer barbecue, wanting to catch a glimpse of the rivals standing together, being on the podium and sharing first place. “Not so bad working with my, as you put it earlier, old extrémité arrière, hm?” He questioned as you two stood together, the closeness you two were forced into for the photographers far more comfortable than it would have been under any other circumstances. He blamed the feelings he had at this moment on the victory over Walker, over the rest of the racers, not even thinking that perhaps this was beyond the fact that he won but that you, his favorite rival, won alongside him. “Non, not the worst.” You joked lightly, forcing a serious face for the cameras when they began to picture you two side by side on the first place stand. He accepted the bottle of champagne before you could, holding it out. “You may have the honor, (First name).” Your fingers brush his own as you grasp the bottle with him, popping the cork and sending the bubbly to decorate the crowd. Flash after flash met you as you stood alongside Zemo and basked in the glory of the win. “How about drinks to celebrate? Even as rivals, I believe a drink wouldn’t hurt.” He whispered the question, causing your gaze to lock on his own in brief surprise. Was he serious!? “I um..Oui, sure. Meet you in town?” He nods, gaze seeming to glimmer ever so brighter as he takes his leave. Even when you separate to get cleaned of the alcohol and switch to “civilian clothing”, your smile doesn’t falter. Maybe it would be good for you to drink the night away with company that didn’t seem as bad as you once had thought before.

As you begin to peel away the racing suit, the flame resistant material bunching at your waist and revealing the open expanses of your back, the simplistic bra strap over the back the only material seen, you fail to hear the seething man enter your car bay. “Do you know what you just did, Ms. (Last name)? Who you fucked with?” Walker puts his hands on your shoulders, spinning you around to face him, his face inches away from yours. “You went and fucked with the wrong man. You could have just accepted your loss, licked your wounds, and we would have been just fine. But oh no, you had to go and fuck with my winning streak with that Sokovian piece of shit.” He huffed when you shove him back, gaze narrowed and arms crossing over your bra covered chest out of annoyance. You could care less what he saw. “I don’t see why you’re so mad, Mr. Walker. You got a taste of your own medicine after that stunt you pulled back in France. You and I both know that was no accident.”

“You know what? Yeah, I did that. But I see you are working with Zemo now, which is also a big no-no in Formula 1. Seems we’re both sinners of the race. The greed of it.” His tone was a hushed, harsh whisper. There was no need to alert anyone that he was in your private quarters harassing you. “I’m nothing like you.” Your tone came out in a hiss, his downturned lips curving up into a grin at your response. “Oh sweetheart, I beg to differ.” He chuckled at the narrowed gaze he was met with. “You and your Sokovian boy toy need to back off. Let this happen like it should or you’ll not like what happens next.”

“And just what do you think you’ll do, John? Because all I’m hearing right now is a lot of talking with no proof of any big execution.” Your lazy grin and scoff of annoyance at his presence left him to raise his hands in mock defeat, hands coming to rest on your shoulders once more with a harsh grip that made your body tense and hold you there. He leaned in, even as you tried to lean away, his lips moving in close near your ear. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Frenchie. I will do anything to win. You best remember that.” His tone alone makes your body betray you, the calm, cool, and collected front slipping as a shiver ran up your spine at his warning. And with that, he leaves you to get dressed for the night.

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

Zemo texts you an address for a bar off the beaten path in Cologne, Germany, further than you had anticipated in going from the track but a welcomed change of scenery. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Frenchie. I will do anything to win. You best remember that.” The words stick with you, even as you drive the main road into the big city, looking for the bar Zemo had invited you to. It was connected to a hotel, a fancy hotel at that, with old architecture and lavish exterior. You could only imagine the interior! A nervous breath is taken as you get out of the car, gaze meeting the man you had just won with. He smiled at you, clothing casual and the air around him feeling far more comforting now than ever. The incident with Walker had left you rattled, sending your nerve endings to buzz and let your body know that you aren’t okay. Even though you felt off, you force a smile to the man who wrapped a friendly arm around your shoulders and led you in to sit at the quiet bar. “So, did I not tell you the plan would work?”

“I just thought it was your cockiness talking, but I will admit, though it physically pains me to do so…” You pause, biting your lip. “Well?” You sigh. “You were right.” The words come out struggled and forced, the man's grin growing at such. “Ah~, I don’t believe I caught that.” “Oh va te faire foutre!” He chuckled at your words, hand raised towards the bartender to get you drinks. “What are you ordering?”

“Shots. We deserve something to toast our victory to, and I don’t believe champagne is your drink of choice.” He offered you one of the smaller glasses, his own raised before him as he locks those bright brown eyes with your own. “Ein Prost! To us, and our victory over John Walker. May that American schwein taste defeat again.” You raise your glass, hoping to drink away any thoughts about Walker's warning and leave it for the next day. Throwing caution to the wind, you decided right then and there that you would finally have fun and disregard the night that you sat across from your rival. Tonight you just wanted to drink. “À la vôtre!” The drink is bitter as it hits your throat and travels down your body, causing a warmth to spread soon after. Kuemmerling, a bitter concoction of herbaceous and bittersweet flavors. A drink of choice for Zemo it seemed because soon after the shots were downed, he ordered another round.

Shot after shot after shot is taken down until your body is leaning against his own and a joke that is shaky at best from his part sends you into a roar of laughter. He holds you close, laughing right along with you. “So... It’s Barenjar?” He snorts at your piss poor pronunciation of the new liquor joining the mix, shaking his head at you as he looks on with drunken vision. “Nien, nien, Bärenjäger. Say it with me. Bä-”

“Bä-”

“Ren-”

“Jäger!”

“Mick Jagger?”

He laughs in defeat, shaking his head as he watched you. So relaxed, so calm. He hasn’t seen you like this before in his life. He’s startled by your sudden movements after downing your last shot for the night, catching you as you try to stand and stumble as your feet betray you. Your body landing against his, his arms slotting themselves around your waist as your drunken gaze catches his own. Those brown eyes of his are hypnotizing, keeping your gaze locked on his own. “I have something to confess, (First name).” He paused to wet his lips, trying to piece the words together in his hazy mind. “I have liked you since the day I met you.” He finally blurts out, fingers moving up to brush away a stray strand of hair that had fallen into your eyes. “You’re infuriating, yet calming. Stubborn and determined. Your smile is lovely and those eyes…” He trails off, leaving your hazy mind questioning what was going to come after, but you hardly have time to think about it as he pressed in closer, face inches from your own. The smell of Bärenjäger and Kuemmerling lingered on his breath as it fanned over your face, those brown eyes searching for something in your own. “Can you feel it, the connection we have? Can you see that we are not just rivals now?” His tone was just barely above a whisper, questioning you with a hint of desperation to his tone.

“Oui.”

That was the only answer he needed. His lips are on yours with fever and desperation, hands clinging to your form for dear life after hearing the words that sent him to fully fall into the feeling of you. You were his comfort, the one constant thing in his life. His rival...but right now you were the woman he sloppily kissed at the hotel bar as the bartender tried to catch his attention to tell you that you both were cut off for the night. His hands moved to grip at your thigh and tangle in your hair, abandoning the idea of holding anything back, the liquor giving him courage to make a move on you. He has wanted to do this for years, touch you, feel you, have you there with him in any way he could. He separated only when the threat of security was offered by the bartender, lips kiss swollen and a faint pant falling from them. “Come.” His hand takes hold of yours, leading you along to the lift and up to his room for the night. This hotel that he called home for the time being would serve well for what he had in mind to do to you. He led you inside, not even waiting for the door to close as he captured your lips once more, hands taking your rear in his grasp and hoisting you up so your legs wrapped around him, back pressed up against the closest wall he could find. He held you there, lips separating to begin trailing hungry kisses down the column of your throat and allow his hands to trace along your sides. His fingers slipped beneath the fabric of your shirt to feel the bare skin there, wanting what he has longed for since the day he met you. A noise fell from your lips as he lazily suckled a mark over your pulse point, your fingers tangling into his dark hair and tugging the locks when his hips grounded against your own. He couldn’t help the fire blooming in his body, needy for the creature that has teased him for all these years, The one he thought he would never have a chance with because of their hate for each other on the track. He needed you, and in your current state, you were willing to accept any touch he offered. He was just Helmut Zemo tonight. Not your rival, not the Baron, just Helmut. And you were his (First name).

A groan left his lips when you pulled him by his hair away from your neck, hands working to take your shirt up and over your head. Throwing it aside, he looked at you with a gaze of admiration. It was similar to the gaze he gave when looking at the new modifications to his car, taking pride in the beauty of things that drove him to win. He dampens his lips, fingers lazily dragging up the expanses of your back from bottom to top, resting on the clasp of the garment covering your breast. “Darf ich?” Your nod was all he needed, the clasp undone with skilled fingers that knew precision, holding still on your back when your arms rose to take the garment and throw it in an unknown direction to be forgotten about for the time being. He wasted no time with taking one of your breasts in hand, fingers running over the sensitive bud of one while he took the other in his mouth, suckling and lavishing with his tongue. He took his time, drunken yet slowly sobering mind savoring each and every noise that fell from your lips as he toyed with your body. You’re barely into foreplay and he already has your panties soaked, the Baron being a creature that knows exactly what buttons to push to get you going without even knowing your body. He was skilled, that much was for sure in your mind as he switched to the other breast, paying equal attention to each. Those brown eyes of his don’t leave your face for a second, watching every reaction and trying to commit them to memory. If he could only have you tonight, he wanted to remember everything he possibly could. Every detail of your body, everything that drew a hitched breath or a low moan from your lips. Every shaky breath and the way your body would press closer to his greedy mouth and hand. He stored it all away. Maybe he’d wake up the next day and fancy this a pleasant dream...It wouldn’t be the first time he’s gotten worked up by thinking about you.

His hand traveled downward, cupping your sex through your pants as his own grinds up against your thigh, straining through the fabric of his pants. He ached for you, for your heated skin to be pressed against his own in a delicious rut of bodies. He traced along the seam, hearing the low whine that fell from your lips as he teased you through the material. “Helmut, stop for a moment.” The man paused all actions, his gaze shifted to a worried state as he met your eyes and spoke with concern. “Are you alright, mein liebling?”

“Oui.” Your fingers trace his jaw, the man's face briefly pressing in against your palm before delivering a soft kiss to the area. A tender gesture that sent butterflies to flutter in your stomach and heart to speed further than the foreplay had already caused. “I just...Take me to the bedroom. Please?” You preferred not being right beside the door where anyone could listen in, where anyone could hold a camera up to the peephole and record the sexual pleasures of the infamous Wildcard and Baron. That would make a top headline, wouldn’t it? He gave a chuckle at your demand, nodding as he kept his grip on you, your legs wrapping just a hint tighter around him as he moved you both to the bedroom. He’s gentle with setting you down, looking down at you when you unwrap your arms and legs from his form. “Scheiße, du bist perfekt.” He slowly worked on the buttons of his shirt, working each plastic piece through the loop with fingers that were known for precision on the course. A shift in his steering, taking hold of the semi-automatic paddle-shifters as he drove, it was all well calculated and that applied on and off the track. His shirt is shrugged off his shoulders, thrown aside before focusing on the belt on his pants. He gets it off with what can only be deemed a darkening gaze, knowing he’s getting closer and closer to having you. You rose to let your hands trail his chest, roaming over the lean muscle that rested there as feather light kisses met his collarbone. A shiver met his spine, shooting up in bliss as he allowed a moment to savor the feeling of you touching his skin. Your skin was so warm, so inviting. He was getting lost in everything.

Your fingers shift down his torso, trailing his abdomen before looping in the belt loops of his pants to pull him forward, a low growl falling from his lips when you place a kiss above the waistline of his pants. Your movements were confident, unzipping his trousers and tugging them down to reveal the tent hidden behind his underwear. He swallowed thickly as he kicked his pants off, watching your every move as you cup him through the thin fabric, thumb moving to brush over the leaking tip and cause a shaky breath to leave him. “Maus-” A groan leaves his lips when a jerk through the fabric is given, his head falling back briefly. He huffed when you repeated the motion, fingers anxious to wrap around his bare flesh and feel that hot skin in the palm of your hand. But he stops you, hand wrapping around your own and bringing it to his lips once more. “Tonight is not about me, maus.” You’re surprised when the man placed his hand on your chest, lightly pushing you back to lay on the bed as he slowly sank down onto his knees, ”Es geht nur um dich.’ His lips drag slowly across your skin, trailing light kisses and nips along your abdomen and resting at the waist of your pants. He glanced up, a silent question of courtesy offered your way as his fingers loop in the band, asking permission like a proper gentleman. “Go ahead.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, his presence making you feel like you’re floating higher and higher on this ride with him. He gave a tug, your rear lifting and back arching to aid the man as he pulled your pants down and let them fall to join the scattered articles around the room. You’d have to go on a damn scavenger hunt just to find your clothes! But none of that mattered now, not when his hot breath is fanning over your needy core and face nuzzling at your thighs. He placed a kiss to your inner thigh before another followed, then another as he began to trail inward towards your covered core. “Aufgeregt?” He purred in questioning, a low rumble of a chuckle coming from deep within his chest spilling out at the small nod he is met with, loving how he has left you damn near speechless just by being so close. Your hips jump back before he gets a grip on them, his tongue moving over the wet fabric and causing a light whine to spill from your lips. “Helmut, please.” Oh, hearing you speak his name only egged him on further, needing you. He needed to taste you, to feel you. He needed you in every way, and his drunken mind only pushed him on to pull the fabric away from your legs and stare at the glory that is you. So wet, so beautiful. He wasted no more time, bringing your legs to hook over his shoulders and delved into the intoxicating honey pot he had been offered. He started off slowly, a long lap from entrance to clit given before the motion was repeated just to hear the noise that left your lips with each swipe. Zemo was mapping you out, taking note of what areas made your thighs twitch and tense, what areas made your hips jump back at the sensitivity of his touch, and what made those oh so delicious noises spill from your mouth.

He allows his tongue to focus in on your clit, flicking the bundle of nerves in a rhythm that sends your head to spin and moan after moan to spill from your lips. “Merde!” He smirked against your core when your hand shot down to tangle in his locks, needing stability after he took your clit between his lips and suckled. He repeats the motion, gaze locked on your own and watching the sudden shock of the feeling run through your body. You were so reactive, and just for him. A lazy lick is given to the sensitive bundle of nerves, watching your hips jerk lightly and seeing the tremble that began to settle into your thighs. “Close?” He questioned as if he was questioning about an everyday thing, totally not giving the impression he was getting you close to orgasm just with that sinful tongue and lips of his. O-Oui.” Your tone was shaky, breathy, eyes half lidded and watching his every move on you. “Gut.” A gasp fell from your lips when he sank a digit into your hot, needy core, arching along the way and searching for the sweet spot deep within. He wasn’t like the inexperienced boys who would just jab their fingers into their partner and hope it hits something. No, his fingers curled, probed, dragged and felt for that spot in a way that showed his experience. A second digit is added not too long after the first, probing the flesh within until he hears your moan and finds that spot that drives you to clamp your thighs around his head. A groan left his lips at the rush of slick is met with each probe, massaging that spot within you and only adding to the tension building in your core. Each throb he was met with only spurred him on. He was on a mission to bring you over the edge, and he would do anything to get you off. When his mouth returned to your still sensitive clit, tongue flicking of the bundle and including the occasional suckle while his fingers moved deep within, you were done for. A rough tug is given to his hair as your body convulses, thighs clamping around him and grinding your hips down against his eager tongue. He helps you ride out your orgasm, lapping at your clit until you give a light shove to his head to make him stop. A wicked smile crosses his features as he gives one final suckle, a squeak leaving your lips at the motion and shoving him back as much as your trembling body allows. He can only chuckle at the attempt, fingers removing from your throbbing core. He watched your gaze land on him when you caught sight of the digits, watching the man move his glance to them as if he was inspecting them before a quiet whimper left your lips when they were taken one by one into his mouth. He made it a show, teasing you as he cleaned each digit of your juices in a slow motion. Sinking down to the knuckle before returning and licking at whatever was left. “Tease.” You huffed, chest rising and falling steadily with your hammering heart. “Oh you know you like it.” He retorted, lazily letting his body climb up and over yours on the plush mattress.

He pushed the final material separating you from him away, throwing the underwear away before letting himself settle in against your body. Zemo wasted no time in wrapping your legs around his waist, lips joining yours as he lined up with you, one hand taking hold of your hip while the other took hold of your hair, tugging it back enough to have access to your neck. As he begins to ease himself within you, his lips attach at a section of your neck, a harsh mark left in his wake as he sinks inch by inch within the lightly pulsing core that he toyed with before. A groan was left against your skin when he was fully settled, grip rough on your hip but movements gentle as he waited for you to adjust. He was no animal, not cruel! He knew that there was a possibility for pain if he moved too soon, and even in his drunken haze he recognized the look in your eyes, the slight twinge of pain from his size alone. The stretch wasn’t unpleasant, no, but it was an intrusion you weren’t quite used to when normally doing this. He lightly placed kisses to sooth you along the mark he left, trailing them up the underside of your chin, going along your jaw before soon connecting with your lips in a soft kiss. Something to distract you until you were ready for him to move. A shift of your hips was given when you tested the feeling of him in you, the moan that left your lips causing a low growl to fall from his own. He lifted his body to loom over yours, hand moving from your hair to cup a breast as he sets a slow, deep and even borderline sensual pace within your core. Slowly out until the tip stayed just barely in before plunging deeply into your warm, wet depths. He huffed with each push of his cock within your core, meeting your moans with a faint groan here or a soft growl there when your walls gripped him just right. He was losing composure with each faint twitch of your walls around him, pace beginning to pick up into a steady rhythm that developed the noise of slick skin hitting skin and the bed beneath to creak ever so slightly with each movement. “Verdammt!” He could tell how your walls began to tighten around him, how each noise leaving your lips grew louder and louder. His poor neighbors, hearing you both so vividly through the walls of the hotel. Yet he didn’t care who heard. As long as they knew that in this moment, you were his to take, that was all that mattered. Zemo moved his thumb to your clit, working the bundle along with the assault he laid on your sensitive spot deep within. Each clamp around him brought his own release to come closer and closer. “Cum for me, maus.” He demanded with a grunt, needing to feel you come undone to reach his own release. His words hit somewhere deep in you, the demand that was laced with a plea driving you to your second orgasm of the night. He groaned as he felt you clamp around him, the sensation alone causing him to remove himself from you and spill onto your stomach with a few quick pumps of his hand along his slick coated member. He pants, taking in the sight of you one final time for the time being. Messy, slickened by your own arousal and sweat. Your hair was messed up, your lips parted and panting. To add the cherry on top, you were coated in his release, a sight for sore eyes while you lay like this. He made you like this, and it swells his drunken ego.

Slowly he eased down to lay at your side, bringing you in against him with an almost delicate kiss delivered to your temple. Your breathing slowly evened out, head resting against his chest as his fingers trail along your back, drawing imaginary patterns as his mind begins to blank. The alcohol was taking effect, causing him to enter a lull and for his eyes to flutter shut. As you lay there, catching your breath, you watch as he drifts away, a single question beginning to enter your sobering mind.

“What have I done?”

Tag List: @darksxder | @mymagicsuitcase | @mischief-siriusly-managed | @alindeluce

#Baron zemo #baron helmut zemo #helmut zemo #racing au #daniel brühl #zemo x reader #zemo x y/n #zemo x you #baron zemo x reader #john walker #john walker is STILL an asshole #multichapter story #chapter 2 #“It Takes Two to Win a Race.” Chapter II

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sainz-zayn · 4 years ago

Text

Anagapesis

Anagapesis (n.) no longer feeling any affection for someone you once loved

Warnings: cheating please if you're sensitive towards this kind of topic please don't read it, alcohol usage, suggestive and sexual themes, toxic relationship, swearing, cheating is not good please don`t take this seriously in real life.

Word count: 5k+

Disclaimer: All Characters and events in this story even those based on real people are entirely fictional.

"Tell me have you ever love me!?" I whispered timidly.

"I've never loved you not even once!" He answered.

Those words came out from his beautiful lips like nothing ever happened between the two of us.

"Leave! I hate you!" my tears starts to fall from my eyes. I`ve never felt this broken before but the one and only Jung Jaehyun made me feel like my heart is shattered into pieces.

Well, how did it all started?

Sitting on my chair signing a contract all day long is hella hectic and surely stressful. I surely need an award tonight for this, maybe going out with the girls tonight is one of the greatest ideas.

Arriving at the club, a tall handsome man with great features already attracts my attention. The both of us checking out each other shamelessly is a wholesome scenery for my best friend.

"Looks like my best friend took a liking at someone huh?" Yoona said, then she smirk at me before handing me a glass of wine. I rolled my eyes at her playfully.

"Why, do you know him?" I asked her as my attention goes back to where the man is sitting while talking to a girl, who I assumed is his girlfriend.

"No, I don't know him but my boyfriend Johnny surely does. his name is Jaehyun, Jung Jaehyun to be exact." Yoona exclaimed as I drink my fourth glass of wine.

"Johnny do you know the girl beside him?" I asked.

"Yeah, that's his girlfriend Yerim. I kinda don't like her though. Want me to introduce you to him?" Duh, Yes, I`d like to.

"Sure" but before I can stand up, Jaehyun is already walking towards our table then he greets Johnny and do their handshake.

"You look like you've gotten into a fight" I said eyeing him, Jaehyun.

"I'm Mayjun, Han Mayjun. Nice to meet you Mr. Handsome" I wink at him before grabbing another drink. He noticed that I`m flirting so he decided to go with it.

"I'm Jaehyun, Johnny's best friend and yeah... me and my girlfriend fought earlier" Jaehyun sighed then I gave him a glass of wine.

"Here drink this"

Yoona and Johnny told us that they are gonna dance for a bit. Tsk, a bit my ass huh. I know that they will be gone for a whole night.

"I guess we're alone now" He said then smirked. Because of that decided to tease him.

"That guy kinda looks hot don't you think so?"

"Tsk" Jaehyun replied.

"Awe is someone`s jealous now Mr.handsome?" I playfully chuckle.

"Wanna go for a dance?" I asked him making my way to the dance floor.

"Sure wait for m-" before he could finish talking I already started dancing. swinging my hips to the beat seductively while looking at him deep in the eyes makes him feel some kind of things that he shouldn't be feeling at this point.

"You have a girlfriend for fuck sake Jaehyun" he murmured under his breath but I heard it.

He lost it when I and bite my lips. He approach me and holds my hips like I`m his. Everything happened so fast his soft plump lips are kissing mine roughly while I`m slowly grinding against his hard erected manhood.

That's how I ended waking up on Jaehyun's bed early in the morning in his masculine pair of arms. Wrapped around your waist just how I want it to be.

I faced him and greeted by a half-naked Jaehyun making me blush so hard.

"Like what you see?" He said mockingly while slowly showing his beautiful dimple that makes me love him more. This is wrong but it feels so right. Well, bad feels good, good feels bad.

He stands up making me see a more clearer view of his muscular body.

"I-i know this is wrong. I'm sorry for seducing you I am sorry we're both drunk last night and you know it too." I look down shyly and guilt is washing over my body.

"Hey, what are you saying!? You don't need to be sorry. We both chose to do this and we're gonna continue it." He hugs my waist. I look at his eyes and pissed is clearly written all over his face.

"But you have a girlfriend I can't share a man with that girl!" I rolled my eyes at him. I push him through his chest and that made him more pissed off.

"We already did it so what's the point of turning back!?" He pinned me to the wall harshly making me hiss in pain before crashing his lips to mine. Without knowing you kissed him back. After a minute of our hot make-out session he pulled you into his embrace.

"So?" He whispered.

"Fine let's continue it, it's not like I don`t have a choice" I sigh before putting on my clothes.

"Stay I'll cook breakfast" He demand.

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No, I will not!" I exclaimed.

"Yes, you will" he said while approaching you.

"Jaehyun I'm already late. I'm the company`s CEO, I don't have a choice it's been a hectic week for our company."

"How about a dinner tonight?" He asked while fixing the watch on his wrist. Dinner sounds good.

"Okay, I'll eat dinner with you" I gave him a peck on his lips before leaving his house.

Sighing at myself, I rub my temples softly if yesterday was hella hectic then today is hella hell. A meeting here and there a contract to sign. I don't even get to eat lunch. I only have coffee and a subway burger that my secretary gave.

I watch as the sun set a lot happened in a day. When the realization hits me, I don't even give Jaehyun my number nor my address. I consciously think of a way to contact him but it all stops when a soft knock interrupts my thoughts.

"Come in" I said clearing my throat, as my office door opens I see a glimpse of Jaehyun`s side profile.

"H-how?" I tried to remember if I gave him my address but no.

I can`t recall anything. I stand up and he opens his arms for me to hug him but I walk pass him.

"Hey, I'm right here as you can see" he furrowed his eyebrows at me.

"duh! I know that I'm not blind" but deep inside I`m thinking how the heck he found out where I am.

"if you`re thinking how I get here, it`s because I tell my secretary to find you and here I am" Jaehyun admires my office for a bit. His taste is kinda similar to mine I think.

"by the way since last night I still didn't introduce my self properly I`m Jung Jaehyun the owner and CEO of Neo tech enterprises" Jaehyun smirk at my reaction.

I can`t believe it the one whom I hook up with last night is one of the richest men I`ve ever know. His the owner of the number one technology company in South Korea with a New York branch. My company is ranked top 2 before his.

"and? that doesn`t change the fact that you`re cheating on your girlfriend with me." I huff in annoyance as the word "your girlfriend" slides to my tongue bitterly.

"I'm not here to argue with you okay? I`m here to have dinner with you. Now if you don`t want me here then bye" I`m shocked at his sudden change but you won`t easily chase him and lose. He wants to play? then let's play. But after thinking you decide not to play hard to get.

"Jaehyun I'm sorry okay? I-I`m just stress." then he smiles knowing that he already win.

"Okay now don`t just stand there and let`s go." he emotionlessly said.

It`s been almost 4 months my relationship with Jaehyun is still going on. Everyone notices the tension every time we have a friend gathering. of course, we hook up here and there or whenever he wants to but today is different this past few weeks it`s like he been avoiding me. Not like the old days he always takes me to date and cuddles with me. He always makes me feel love, my friends already warn me that I might regret what we`re doing now in the future but I could care less.

Admiring my expensive dress in the mirror I sure do look mesmerizing, I always do. Many men are ready to give their love to me, many of them have already court me but none of them is in my standard. Yes I admit it I`m a picky and choosy person when it comes to my love life or personal affair but what can I do? when there is only one Jung Jaehyun in the world. The thought of him with another woman is making me jealous but that's not the point you already have him wrapped around your fingers. You're Han Mayjun and what Mayjun want, Mayjun get. You have it all powers, wealth, beauty, and most importantly Jung Jaehyun one of the richest and handsome men you've ever known.

While sipping my favorite wine, I heard a light knock from my door assuming that it`s jaehyun but I remind myself that it`s not him because he already told me that he`s going to the gala with his girlfriend. Yeah, the girlfriend who he always takes to the gala with him. Because of this we argue with each other and I didn`t hear anything from him in 2 days but what can you do about it your relationship with him is all hidden from the public.

"Come in" the door open and my date for the night who is my Ex Jungwoo. I gotta admit, it took me so long to move on from him because of what happened between the two of us. He just suddenly leave me like nothing ever happened between the two of us. He leaves me without saying goodbye. almost 3 years ago he goes to the US to take over his dad company and comeback after a year and us two got into good chemistry and became a best friend that`s why he`s the one who I choose to be my date tonight at the gala.

"Pleasure to meet you my love" Jungwoo holds my hand and kisses the top of it gently. It makes my heart flutter, I gotta hide it.

"No need to be so polite you know, I miss you Kim Jungwoo" I give him a big teddy bear hug who he accepts gladly. I take my time hugging Jungwoo it`s like his my comfort. The moment stops when his assistant interrupts us.

" Sir we have to go or we`ll be late for tonight's event" Jungwoo`s assistant clearly said for the both of us to hear.

"Shall we princess?" He smiles teasingly and I hate it. But I also find comfort in it.

"Oh, come on Woo stop with the pet names and let`s go" Slapping his arms playfully we go straight to Jungwoo`s car going to the Gala. It only takes a minute to arrive. Jungwoo immediately go outside of the car to open it for me and a thousand of lights flicking and clicking towards our direction. and Jung-woo shield me from it before walking in the red carpet we post while his arms are wrapped around my waist. Tomorrow the both of us will be surely the hit topic on social media and magazines almost in all newspaper headlines. Because they all know about our public relationship how it works out and how it ended.

I go inside the building with Jungwoo beside me and I see our group of friends waving at us and we approached them. I heard a whistle from Lucas and Yuqi my best friend. They started dating weeks ago, Lucas is Jaehyun`s best friend and Yuqi is my long-time friend just like Yoona.

"You look sexy tonight babe" Yuqi honestly said and all of them agreed. I`m kinda shock that Lucas and Jungwoo know each other, almost all of them know each other.

Y`all are having fun talking to each other or whoever approach our table. Every minute, different Ceo. My friends notice that almost all of them is flirting with me but I shrugged it off and go on with having fun when the atmosphere suddenly changes. I turn around only to see Jaehyun approaching our table. He looks good tonight his hair is neatly done, the tuxedo that his wearing fits him well. Jungwoo notices the way that I look at Jaehyun. I used to look at him like that too. Sometimes he wonders what if he didn`t leave and break your heart? maybe I will still gonna be his.

-*-

Jaehyun is looking at you without thinking about others. He just wants to hug you, kiss you, and feel you on his body. But this day guilt is been washing all over his body that`s why he's trying to distance himself from you and he feels sorry for that but knowing that you go here with Jungwoo, makes him feels some kind of things that might not help in this kind of situation.

"Yow, what`s up dude?" mark happily greets him and invited him to sit he also knows what`s going on between the two of you.

"Where`s Yerim?" Seulgi asks while the others shift their attention to Seulgi and Jaehyun, yeah you`re curious to where is Yerim? doesn`t she come here with jaehyun?

"She`s in the restroom" Jaehyun replies to them they ask him more things but he can only think about you, do you think about him too? the answer is probably yes but you can`t bring yourself to look at him you`re scared that you might cry in front of them and your pride will not let you.

"Hi babe sorry I need to go to the restroom and leave you alone" and that`s when Jaehyun finally talks normally and not dryly he`s usually not like this towards his friend but tonight is really different.

-*-

"It's okay baby come and sit here with me" my group of friends cheers for them playfully and that`s when I finally look at him with jealousy burning in my eyes. Everyone suddenly stops cheering realizing what`s going on between the two of us. Jaehyun smirked at me and this time I hate it. he wants to play a game? then let`s play.

I didn`t hesitate to roll my eyes at him and I turn to my side to face Jungwoo who is now in his 5th drink.

"Baby slow down you`re getting tipsy" I know that Jung-woo has a high alcohol tolerance but the show must go on.

"I`m fine baby don't worry" Jungwoo only grins at me making you soft. When he suddenly gave you a peck on the lips, and you gave him one too. Oh, I know how much Jaehyun hates hearing somebody else calls me baby. Because he`s the only one who called me that.

"Hey, you two if you`re going to get back together then don`t make it long! just do it." Yoona said making Yuqi, and Seulgi coo with their boyfriend. Jaehyun hates how you blush with their sudden statement but little did you know everyone is doing it on purpose so that Jaehyun can get jealous.

Jungwoo whispers in my ears, asking me if I wanna go home too but I hesitate.

"If you`re uncomfortable right now, I can take you home" I hesitantly look around and you see everyone talking about business, and you look at Jaehyun to only see him avoiding Yerim`s touch. My plan work I thought so I decided it`s better if I let Jungwoo take me home.

"Guys we`re going home now” Jungwoo and me bid our Goodbye to them and other businessmen in the party.

"okay, make sure you drive well Jungwoo if anything happens to my best friend I`ll kill you" Yuqi said before the both of us go outside to Jungwoo`s car.

We arrive at my house and I thank Jungwoo for helping me out tonight, and for driving me home. I don`t know why, but I`m excited to know if anything will happen tonight.

I go to my room to change into my night sleepwear. Silk shorts and an over size shirt to make me comfortable.

Someone suddenly loudly knocks in the door making you startled.

"who`s there!?"

"Just fucking open the door Mayjun!"

I hear his voice and that`s enough to know who he is. Opening the door a soft pair of lips land to mine kissing me roughly as if there's no tomorrow for it.

“Jaehyun stop! I`m tired!” I tried to push him but he`s stronger than me. He pinned me to the wall harshly, leaving wet kisses on my neck.

"Do you think ignoring me is fun!?" Silence.

"Do you think making me jealous with your jerk ex is fun huh!?" Silence.

"Talk to me for Fuck sake! Don`t give me cold shoulders, look at me just once. Fuck just fuck this!" and that is my breaking point I can`t stand this argument anymore.

"I already told you Jaehyun that I`m tired so what`s the point of arguing here!?" am i scared? yes, I`m scared of him when he`s mad but I can`t let him win this time. He look so hot when he's mad but I can set that aside.

"Why does he already fuck you that`s why you`re tired?" He`s really mad now. No, he`s furious right now. He has said a hurtful and harsh word to me in the past but he never degrade me like this. I can`t let him belittle and look down on me. With the power I had, I slap him.

"You`re always like this when you`re jealous but today!? I don`t even know you, you only call for me whenever you need me. And when you need someone to comfort you or to fulfill your needs. I`m not you`re fucking toy Jaehyun!" I finally cried out and I said the unspoken words to him but at this point, he doesn`t know what to feel anymore he let his anger took over him.

"So what do you want me to do? always go to you!? for fuck sake we don`t even have a label Mayjun wake up! I have a girlfriend and you know that. You`re just someone I know who can fulfill my needs" He yells at me making me break into tears more.

"So that`s what I am to you? someone who can just fulfill your needs?" you yell back and now I don`t even know what to do. I need to confirm something and his answer is what I need.

"T-tell me have you ever love me!?" I whispered timidly.

"I`ve never loved you not even once!" Those words coming out of his beautiful lips like nothing ever happened between the two of us.

"Leave! I hate you!" My tears starts falling from my eyes. I`ve never felt this broken before but the one and only Jung Jaehyun made you feel like your heart is shattered into pieces.

"If I didn`t make a move on you that night you`ll probably not gonna figure out that the girlfriend you love cheated on you first." his eyes widen in shock.

"Say that again!"

"I said what I said Jaehyun, now leave!" He turned around and slam the door shut.

-*-

He`s really sorry and guilty for what he said to you during the argument. All of that? he didn`t mean it and knowing that his girlfriend cheated on him first makes him sadder. That night the both of you spend the cold night without each other embrace crying all night silently.

-*-

I should have listened to what my friend already warned me. But I`m thankful for them for supporting me after finding out that Yerim is not as good as we think.

Meanwhile, Jaehyun is crying his eyes and heart out in the middle of the night he`s blaming his self for hurting you.

"I'm such an asshole!" He groaned and run his finger through his hair.

he regrets all the things he said to you he cry and cry just like you. He throws all the things that he grabs on the floor making his hands bleed. But he could care less. There`s only one thing that he knows, he will get you back no matter what it takes. that night he called Yerim and break up with her.

-*-

It's been three days and I let my secretary do the works while I`m gone. A one-week break won`t hurt anyone when I`m the the one hurting right?

"Yoona can you please come to my place right now? I really need you right now" I try hard to hide my sob making Yoona concern but what can she do? she`s in the Maldives right now arranging her wedding with Johnny.

"Babe I`m sorry, I know you can overcome it. You`re a strong person Mayjun and you know it too. I`m sorry that I`m not on your side right to comfort you, I have to go Mayjun please eat well and take care of yourself the wedding is in a few days I love you!" and the line got disconnected even though Yoona is away from me she always makes sure that I`m okay.

Suddenly the door of your room opens widely.

"Please didn`t I tell you that I want to be alone!" Not bothering to turn around because you thought that it was your brother Seojun.

But no, the person who enters my room suddenly pulls me into a tight hug whispering comforting words to my ears. I know it`s Jungwoo he always does this when I need comfort. Without hesitating I let my emotions come out because I know that Jungwoo will not judge me.

"H-how?" I ask him between my sobs.

"Shh... Yoona called me and told me everything. It`ll be fine Mayjun I`m here" Jungwoo pats my back back softly to make me comfortable.

"J-Jung-woo why? am I not worthy enough to be loved? why do they always leave me?"

"Hey, princess listen you`re beautiful, you`re worthy. I`m sorry for hurting you, I`m sorry that we hurt you" He kissed the top of my head and he let me fall asleep on his arms.

A soft smile is written all over his face, he hopes that no one will hurt you anymore. He knows that you love Jaehyun dearly even though it hurts him he will help you get back together.

-*-

6 days already passed and Jaehyun can`t focus on his work. You`re all he could think about he knows that he can see you on the wedding day but were you ready to face him? he`s scared that you might not even let him get close to you. so he keeps himself from working and working until he's exhausted.

Me on the other side is getting ready for my flight I will go there with Yuqi, Lucas and all of Nct members. It`s what they called the group, group of young tech CEO and one of the finest and richest men in South Korea.

"You don`t need to be nervous Mayjun. We`re here don`t worry" Yuta smile at me reassuringly. I sighed and after a long flight we headed to our designated car taking you to a beautiful beach.

“You should enjoy this day Mayjun, you need to relax” I said and to myself. I hear my brother Seojun calling me from afar. And yeah, he`s still single is he?

I look around and I make eye contact with whom I want to see from the start but can`t admit it. I quickly look away, I try to find Yoona only to see her at her hotel room. Y`all girls are in the same room and it makes me feel at ease.

"I think we should get wasted tonight!" Seulgi said happily and we agree with the idea.

"We should celebrate before the wedding because this is the last day that we will call you Ms. Im. Because tomorrow you`re gonna be Mrs. Suh" I wink at her and y`all agree with the idea. So I change my clothes, I wear a sundress before going out with the girls and I avoid any interaction with Jaehyun.

-*-

"Johnny, do you think she will forgive me?" Jaehyun asks his friend while looking up in the sky feeling the cold breeze.

"Jaehyun I know what you did is wrong but let`s hope that she will forgive you just give her sometimes" Johnny then pats Jaehyun`s shoulder before giving him a small smile.

"I have a plan and I`m determined to do this but I need your help" said Jaehyun.

Jaehyun then tells all the boys his plan for tomorrow and they`re more glad to help him out because they can see and feel how you love each other dearly.

-*-

It`s past midnight and and the other girls are still having fun dancing and drinking until we get wasted. I drink a lot compared to them and they try to stop me but I just keep on dancing until all the girls got drunk.

Johnny suddenly realize that y`all are in the club and the boys got worried so they try to find y`all. Only to find all of us dancing like a sexy goddess, they hate how other men stare at my hips.

"Jaehyun you get Mayjun. Me, Lucas, and Mark will get them" Johnny goes to Yoona to cover her with his jacket and the others do the same.

"Oh, guys look it`s Jaehyun! doesn`t he look so handsome?" I grin at them making them laugh because I`m really not myself right now.

"Yeah, it` me now let`s go you need to take some rest" He clung me into his arms and I hug him tightly as I could. "Baby I can` breathe"

"Let`s stay like this for a minute please." I softly said.

"I miss you, you know every day I`m always thinking about you" I said while my eyes are floating in tears. Making them all silent they just let me because they know how badly I was hurt. Yuqi, Yoona, and Seulgi is sobber now but here I am are crying in front of them.

"I miss you so much, my day is not complete without thinking of you. Everything reminds me of you even though you hurt me even though you didn`t love me I`m so thankful that I met you" I said weakly while softly caressing his face, tears is visible on his eyes too.

"No, all I said to you was a lie since the day that I met you I`m ready to risk everything for you that`s when I realize that cheating is my choice thank you for completing half of me thank you for letting me know that she cheated on me first I Love You so much Mayjun" I slowly nod at everything he explained to me and I gave him a peck on his lips.

He wish, no, everyone wishes that you will remember all of this tomorrow. Your friends can`t help it that they start to tear up too.

It`s 6:00 am now and here I am comforting and thanking Yoona for staying by my side and I tell her not to get nervous.

"Yoona it`s okay you`ve been waiting for this, this is one of your biggest dreams and it came true now I`m so happy for you" I hug her as I admire her in her dress she looks beautiful and she always does.

_*_

On the other side of the room, there are the boys who are super chaotic they`re laughing and teasing Jaehyun and Johnny because of what happened last night but deep inside they`re so proud of each other.

"You`re getting married now Johnny I can`t believe it. And you`re marrying Yoona the woman of your life" Ten said while proudly smiling at him

"Jung Jaehyun you better take care of Mayjun or else you know what will gonna happen" Jungwoo and Seojun said in unison they`re laughing at how they`re thinking the same thing.

"Hyung I`m the one who is supposed to say it!" Jungwoo said and Seojun only rolled his eyes at him.

"I heard you and Chaewon are dating" Jungwoo said making Seojun widen his eyes. He`s supposed to say it after the wedding but Jungwoo already said it.

"Kim Jungwoo you bastard!" Seojun glare at Jungwoo making everyone laugh in the room.

_*_

You may now kiss the bride.

Y`all cheered for Johnny and Yoona when Yuta said.

"G-guys J-jaehyun he got into an accident" Yuta is breathing heavily while saying it and I feel like my whole world stop.

" What!? How!?" I said.

Concern is creeping up on my body. Yuta ask us to follow him and I run as fast as I can, I don`t really know where we`re going but I just keep following him. I want to see Jaehyun safe.

I run and run until I a see flower petals scattered in the sand with candles lighting the place up and I can`t help but to tear up. I turn around and I see my group of friends standing happily while holding a balloon that`s forming a word saying " Will you marry me"

And that`s when Jaehyun finally showed up while holding a bouquet of flower giving it to me while I cry, smiling at him he kneels in front of me and I cover my lips with my hands. I can`t help it but tears of joy are coming out from my eyes right now.

"Mayjun I know I hurt you, I know I said that I don`t love you but the truth is I`m scared. I`m scared that time that if I tell you my real feelings you will not love me back but I'm so fool to even think about your feelings. Now that I`m here and ready to give you more than my everything and stay with you" Jaehyun takes a deep breath to take more courage.

"Han Mayjun I Jung Jaehyun is asking you Will you marry me?" Jaehyun asks me wholeheartedly. And who am I to say no? when all of our friends are rooting for the both of us?

"Yes, Yes Jaehyun I`ll marry you" He put the diamond ring on my finger and he finally stands up and he spoon me around.

" I LOVE YOU JUNG JAEHYUN" I shout happily while showing my finger to my friends and they clap.

They stand there proudly looking at us, This will not happen if they`re not here by our side. Strangers who watch the scene clap along with them and that`s how my story with Jung Jaaehyun starts again.

Always remember this "Everyone has a friend during each stage of life. But only lucky ones have the same friends in all stages of life.”

and that`s how Mayjun and Jaehyun with their friend life goes on.

#jaehyun #jung jaehyun #jaehyun angst #nct #wayv #nct angst #jaehyun smut #nct 127 #nctu #nctdream

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