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ppersonna · 3 years

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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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strangelysamantha · 3 years

Text

crumbled cookies ☆

jj maybank x plus!reader (fem!reader)

warnings: abuse/hitting, hate speech, fat shaming, bullying, insecurities, swearing, fighting, jj’s dad, luke (yikes!) mad jj, mention of pills.

words: 3,365.

summary: you decide it would be a good surprise to stop by jjs house quickly to drop off some of your homemade cookies, since you believe he isn’t feeling the best. then, unexpectedly jj's dad comes home with an unwelcoming embrace, which ruins the surprise.

request? nope, but requests are open :)

a/n: i randomly thought about this, i obviously don’t believe that us plus size baddies should ever be insecure, but i thought it would be a nice little angst imagine with fluff at the end! if you could, please comment and like if you enjoyed it, thank you! after i write a few requests i will proofread my stories :)

my masterlist

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jj hadn’t answered any of your texts, usually this would worry you, but you understood that sometimes he just needed some space to be alone. you surprisingly were used to this because he always disappeared, and if he genuinely needed you, he knew where to find you. it also wasn’t bothering you because he had only been MIA for a few hours.

you, assuming that jj was just overwhelmed, decided to stay home and bake homemade cookies. jj always complimented your cookies, he loved taste testing them, and more importantly, he loved how you put so much effort into making them perfect, even if you were only making the cookies for him. jj wouldn’t admit it, but he definitely didn’t see you as just a friend. he didn’t know how he viewed you. he was too confused for his own good with his emotions. all he did know was that he depended on you, and that he never wanted to lose you. it would ruin him, especially if he had done something to intentionally lose and hurt you.

you preheated the oven, excited to use a new cookie flavor for jj. you danced lightly to the music playing in the background of your kitchen, softly humming along as you gathered the dry ingredients, mixing them together. it was a fun little game you guys played, where he’d try and guess what extra ingredients you added that affected the cookie's flavor. he almost always got it wrong, but he was so cute sitting there always trying to guess it right, when he didn’t even know that much about cooking anyway.

unbeknownst to you, you were completely unaware of his feelings, despite the same feelings bubbling in your heart too. jj was your best buddy, and obviously you guys had flirtatious banter but it was nothing too serious. it didn’t help that every girl jj had a one night stand with, was the complete opposite of you. how could he like you, when every girl he fucks was not only skinny, but also rich, and mysterious?

pope wasn’t on your side either. he would always express how nauseated he felt when jj would jokingly flirt with you, and openly play with your feelings. he was quite vocal in scolding you when you would tell him that jj blew you off, or jj had pissed you off. deep down you did agree with pope, he wasn’t wrong.

a beep was heard from the oven as it was fully preheated. you had fully completed the cookie dough, now adding the most important ingredients. you decided to be nicer, and chose an easier flavor for jj to guess. you did this just in case something was seriously wrong he could at least be lifted up for guessing it right. m&ms and hershey’s kisses would be mixed together, creating a chocolate m&m hershey cookie, with added caramel on top. you quickly evenly separate the dough, before placing it in the oven waiting for it to rise.

the timer in the kitchen went off as you pulled the cookies out of the oven, careful to not burn yourself. you stick a knife into the cookie to ensure it was fully cooked before smiling contently to yourself. you let them cool off as you got dressed and prepared to go to jjs house.

you added caramel before sliding four cookies into a ziplock baggie. the cute baggy had a drawn on heart and a nice message for him. you didn’t expect to stay long, and you honestly didn’t even know if he would be home.

when you arrived to jjs house it looked vacant and abandoned. the nerves finally catching up to you as you realize he hasn’t talked to you all day. you knock on the front door, waiting for a response but you are left standing there waiting. you frown before hesitatingly walking down the steps. you look up when you hear a car approach, and a glimmer of hope flashes your mind as you thought it was jj, but instead it was his dad.

your heart was beating fast, and you didn’t know what to do. you waited to see if luke would talk but he just looked at you confused, and obviously annoyed. you shook your head quickly, “i’m so sorry, i was just going to drop these off for jj, but he’s not here so i’ll be on my way.” you smile softly, and start to walk away but his strong arms grab yours. you’re startled since his reaching for your elbow was quite unexpected.

“well you are already here. might as well get it over with.” his voice was unrecognizable as his emotions weren’t clear. you nod shyly. “no really i don’t want to inconvenience you, i can come at another time.” he shakes his head before walking to his door, opening it as the door loosely opens entirely, hitting against the wall to its side. you walk behind him being extra cautious in case he tries to grab you again.

you walk straight to the kitchen to set the bag of cookies on the counter, which was no use since right when you placed the bag, luke had scooped it into his hand reading the note. “oh, so you are the one dating my son?” your face twists in confusion. “no, no. jj and i are just friends.” you laugh awkwardly, swaying from feet to feet. the floors creak beneath you causing you to stop shaking back and forth. “okay good.” his eyes look up and down your figure as his mouth forms into a line. “i wouldn’t want him dating someone like… you.” his words hurt, but you didn’t want to break down in front of him.

you feel uncomfortable under his intense stare so you hurried to put an end to the conversation. “uhm. okay, welll thank you for letting me drop them off, i appreciate it mr. maybank.” you nod softly before he states, “no.” you turn over to him, “no?” you repeat as more of a question. your patience wears thin as you notice the cookies are still in his hand, and he is carefully undoing the ziplock that concealed the cookies.

he pulled a cookie out, before admiring it closely. “chocolate chip m&m caramel cookie. very yummy, very good choice.” you avoid eye contact, trying to focus on anything else displayed in the room. “and it’s still warm.” he stares at you as he takes a bite of the cookie, its crumbs slowly falling from where he sunk his teeth in. “it’s quite good.” you smile softly, “thank you… but-.” he cuts you off completely. “of course you, of all people, would be bringing him cookies. i’m not surprised, i can see you are trying to fatten my son.” his words stung you because this wasn’t what you were expecting. his father seemed intoxicated, and before you could leave it seemed like he still had stuff to say to you.

“yes the cookies are good, but they don’t excuse you for lying to my face. you are just like my ex wife… lying, scheming, going behind my back, but still creating delicious snacks.” you stumble back a little, as shock sets over you. “how did i lie?” you ask, quite confused as you hadn’t even talked to him that much. “i know you’re dating jj! i see his hickies i see that when he leaves this house it’s always to meet with your fat ass.” his words hold no meaning, he was just a lousy drunk taking his anger out on the closest thing to him. you stayed silent, when he suddenly shook his head before grabbing the rest of the cookies and throwing them on the floor, jumping on the bag, completely squishing them.

the once yummy cookies, now downgraded into a small pitiful pile that was brutally smeared against the kitchen's tile. your heart speeds up as his eyes are focused on yours, as if trying to read your emotions. “i’m sorry, but i’m not sure what i did to deserve you ruining my cookies?” your tone comes out sassier than intended which definitely didn’t help your case.

“pick it up.” he threw paper towels towards you, as he waited patiently for you to clean up his mess. you silently obeyed scooping your mutated bakery treat up. you got most of it cleaned, but you ran out of napkins. you bite your lip trying to think of a quick solution to finish picking it up so you could possibly leave, but it’s too late because he’s already grabbing your arm forcing you up. tears stream down your face, while you contemplate your choices.

before you could even register what had just happened, his hand had collided with your cheek, as he screams hurtful comments. “you are good for nothing. i honestly hope that jj didn’t choose you, because if he did, that would make him an embarrassment to this family.” he pushes you to the floor, and you quickly try to stand up so you can leave. you hurry to the door, but he catches you before you could get in your car and drive away.

“you can't tell anyone about this. i swear if you tell anyone...” his tone is laced with venom and your face scrunches up in confusion. “dont act stupid! god this is why people treat you the way they do.” you look at him one last time before he sends a fast fist to your face, that hits the side of your nose, and your eye. your face begins to pulse as the blood rushes to the quick forming bruise. you couldn't think straight as everything had happened so fast. all you wanted to do was drop off cookies, but somehow you were now being punished just because you resembled this man's wife. your breath is shaky as your tears are starting to slow down, but they are still evident on your cheeks.

jj’s dad stumbled backwards as if he had finally realized what he had done, before he eventually collapsed on the couch and fell asleep. as he landed on the couch, multiple loose pills fell from his pockets ensuring you that he wasn't mentally in the right place, and he was very obviously intoxicated.

you avoided jj at all costs, which was actually easy since he hadn't even contacted you. you were dreading his routine appearance that was bound to happen soon. you knew it was inevitable, he hasn't missed a nightly check in once, and you had been doing it for months. when you first met the pogues you were slightly scared since you were new in town and you didn't have any friends. so, jj took you under his wing. he quickly became protective over you, which is why he created this elaborate plan to sneak into your bedroom before bed every night. whether it was to just chat, talk about your day, or even just cuddle. you could always expect him at your window at around the same time every night.

usually you would confide in jj, ask for his advice. granted his advice isn't the greatest but it does help that he listens to your problems. not tonight. that wasn't the case. if anything, you wholeheartedly hoped that he would forget, or he would be too busy. he hadn't seen you since before your whole encounter with his father. you wondered if his father had told jj about what he did, and if he did, how did jj react?

you glance at the clock noticing that in the next ten minutes jj would be climbing his way into your window. your body was shaking with nerves as you glanced in the mirror. your black eye was a dead give away that something had happened. could you even tell him the truth? what if you lied, and then he called you out on it saying he already knew about it because his father told him. you contemplated every outcome of the future event that you weren't even ready when he slightly tapped your window. you quickly pulled on sunglasses that easily blocked your eye.

you smile widely, sliding your window up as he gracefully lands on your floor without making a noise, a talent he had perfected. “hey princess!” he has a huge grin on his face, his goofy smile is reason enough as to why you can't break the news to him about what his father did. “hi!” jj pulls you into a hug and you gladly take it. you wrap your arms tightly around his abdomen, as his arms are rubbing your hips. the hug ends and he slowly pulls away, his hands lingering on your hips before he grabs your hand to move to the bed. “do you want to be the big spoon or the little spoon?” jj asked. you waited, contemplating your choices. “either way is fine, you can choose.” you smile as he immediately gets into the little spoon position.

“hey i forgot to ask you why you are wearing those stupid glasses inside.” he laughs lightly as he reaches for them and you completely jump off the bed, scared he actually grabbed them in time. luckily, you were fast enough and the glasses were still settled on your face. “i have a horrible headache, that's all.” you nodded as his face slowly fell, he stood up, moving to sit on the edge of your bed. he glanced up at you. “we can turn the lights off so it isn't as bright in your room.” you shook your head at his compromise. “princess, i need to see your pretty face before i can declare that you are okay.” you hesitated, trying to piece together a quick story that you could tell him to explain how you wounded up with a gruesome bruise. he wasn't going to leave unless he knew you were okay.

he watched you intently, trying to see what you were hiding. “before i show you please promise me you won't freak out.” you reach for his hands and he grabs them in return, slowly nodding. “no, that's not going to count. please tell me that you won't be angry at me.” his heart swiveled up inside his chest as he heard that you thought he would be mad at you. “i promise that whatever you are about to tell me won't make me upset, and that i could never stay mad at you.” you nodded to his words. “okay so you know what you just said?” he tilted his head confused, “yeah?” you breathe in, trying to calm your nerves. “remember that.”

you hesitantly reach your arm up to expose your once hidden eyes. at first it doesn't register so he stares at you blankly. but the moment he saw it, he was already standing up, and freaking out. “hey you said you wouldn't be mad!” he ran fingers through his blonde hair, his eyes wide. “what the fuck…? i said i wouldn't be mad if YOU did something, i never said anything about not getting mad when it involves someone else!” he looks back at you and immediately investigates your eye. his jaw clenched as he looked above you, his hand gripping your chin. “who the fuck did this to you?” you stayed quiet, until he looked down at you waiting for an answer.

silence fills the room leaving it eerily silent. “i can't tell you jj,” he laughs, shaking his head, “that's a funny joke, now tell me what happened and who the fuck hit you?” you looked away. “jj there's nothing you can do.” he followed along with your shenanigans. “and why is that?” you couldn't look at him so you looked at the floor. your silence was only making him more worried. “who was it actually? who are you protecting!?” he was getting frustrated. “fine. i'll tell you, only because i know you'll find out sooner or later.” he pulled you onto his lap, one hand holding your thigh, while the other grabbed your curvy hip. you took a deep breath before continuing. “okay. earlier today i baked you cookies and i stopped by your house so i could drop them off. but your dad was there, and i was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. it was my fault. okay?”

he shook his head, his grip on your thigh tightening. “you're telling me that my father gave you a black eye?” his tone was shockingly low as he absorbed every word you said. “yes. and he stomped on the cookies i made you.” his chest started heaving. “i fucking hate him! everything in my life he has to ruin. you, you mean so fucking much to me, and he’s over here throwing punches at you!” you stayed quiet. “jj?” he looked down at you, trying not to get too worked up because the last thing he wanted to do was scare you, “yes princess?” you hesitated with what you were going to say. you leaned your head to rest onto his shoulder.

“i- okay, i really appreciate you, but i can't have you getting hurt because of me. you're not my boyfriend, and you don't have to protect me anymore. i know you feel obligated with that pact we made when i first moved here, but you don't have to inconvenience yourself by coming over here every night, or by fighting people who harass me, or anything. jj, i feel so bad that you are roped into this position because i never intended for this to happen.” he stays silent, “no way am i leaving you. princess, please throw that thought away right now. i’m here for you always. and i am going to continue to protect you because even if i'm not your boyfriend, that doesn't mean i don't want you safe.”

you are so stunned by his response that your breath gets caught in your throat. “what do you mean?” he smiles looking down, his hands finding themselves comfortable around your hips. “what i'm saying is, that i do want to be your boyfriend. i want people to know how much you mean to me, and i want the whole world to be jealous that i have you, and they can't have you. i want to be the one who protects you. so, if you'd want me too, i'd love to be your boyfriend, if not that is completely okay.” you stared at him, “jj, you'll never know how long i've wanted to do this.” he looks at you confused before your lips connect to his. you run your hand through his hair, while the other hand is sitting on his jaw. his hands hungrily grasp your hips as he pulls you closer to enhance the kiss. you both pull away, smiling.

you asked jj to spend the night with you. he agreed, which resulted in him laying on his back as your head lay still on his chest. one of his hands was always touching you, so he could ensure you weren't going to go anywhere. as you slowly fell asleep beside him, he started to think about what his father had done. with anger clouding his better judgement, he stealthily slipped out your grasp, and climbed out your window, set to fulfil the goal in his head.

eek i hope this was good <333. perhaps a part two...???

#jj maybank #plus size reader #jj maybank x plus!reader #jj maybank x reader #maybank #jj #jj maybank angst #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader angst #outerbanks imagines #outerbanks fanfic #fiction #writing #jj maybank plus size reader #jj x fem!reader #jj maybank x fem!reader

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anordinarymuse · 3 years

Note

I dont know if the request are Open but...can i get a fred weasley x reader friends to enemies to lovers? Where fred chose his girlfriend (in that moment) over the reader (who is his best friend) so they have a he fight because the other girl lies to fred about something of the reader and they are not best Friends anymore and fred start pranking her a lot which results on her moving to france but then she came back for her sevennth year to hogwart where she meets fred again and sparks fly?(maybe the reader had a huge glow up) with fluff and a little bit of smut

Thanks <3 (the request Turn a lot more larger than intended to)

ok so i made this a tad shorter to keep it a oneshot but i kept the details so i hope this turned out ok rip

years.

Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Summary : the request

Warnings : intended smut(?); fluff-ish; more of storyline idk; unedited

Word Count : 827

A/N : my tumblr is so broken on my phone i want to cry

the masterlist.

request here.

You take in a deep breath as you stare at your reflection, brushing through your hair with your fingers.

It's a new year.

This time it'll be different.

As you step back into the main bedroom it almost feels like a memory. You had spent the past two years at Beauxbaton for a program curated for you. You left Hogwarts without telling anybody, even your best friends Fred and George out of spite.

Today was the first day of classes and you had been able to steer clear of the twins so far. You weren't sure if you were quite ready to face the twins. You still weren't sure how you managed to be completely invisible for a week. Though, it probably had to do with not attending the Great Feast and arriving late.

You grab your books and take a bite of the jam and toast you stole from the kitchens at midnight. Quickly, you run out of your dorm to get to your first class.

You're part of the first handful of kids in class and you decide sit somewhere near the middle. Not too close to the front nor back.

Suddenly the thought of the twins recognizing you crosses your mind.

No, Y/N, how could they?

You've changed, remember?

It was quite true. At Beauxbaton you let go of yourself and changed up your appearance. It was just small things, nothing grave. It was things like hair color, and learning how to do your eyelashes properly that made all the difference.

"Y/N Y/L/N?" Professor McGonagall calls for your name as checks the attendance. She then looks at you with a welcoming look. "Glad to see that you're back."

As soon as your name is called you could almost feel the mountains of whispers arise from around you. You shake it off and try your best to focus on the lesson.

*****

"Y/N?" A terribly familiar voice asks as you're about to leave McGonagall's class.

You turn around taking a deep breath to prepare yourself, "Fred?"

You take a gulp as you face Fred, who towers over you. He remains just as attractive as he was when you left, which you curse over. His eyes are wide and his lips part ever so slightly.

"It's really you?"

"The one and only," you grin though a shaky laugh.

Without any hesitance Fred gives you a tight hug, "I didn't think you'd ever come back! You just left one day and we never saw you again!"

"Yeah..." you muster through a smile, remembering part of the reason you left. "So how are you? How's the lucky girl?"

"Girl?" Fred's brow furrows as the hug pulls apart. "You mean Angelina? We broke up...we broke up last summer." He bites his cheek and you realize that it's a touchy subject.

"Oh," you say without thinking, blinking your eyes in shock. Your eyes widen at what just came out of your mouth and your cheeks heat up with embarrassment. Before Fred gets a chance to intervene you pace away, nervously playing with the ends of your hair.

*****

"Why'd you leave?" Fred asks as he sits on the floor of his dorm working on his next prank object and you beside him helping him organize.

"Leave?"

"For France."

You'd been at Hogwarts for so long you'd almost forgotten you'd left at all. You'd told your parents you wanted new academic experiences, but deep down that wasn't the real reason at all.

The truth was you loved Fred, which is a stupid reason to leave a school. But you couldn't stand the way he looked at Angelina and how he talked of her. And once a fight broke out and he began getting his revenge on you, you gave up and left.

"The reason is, well, it's dumb, but," you sigh, turning to look at Fred who's entirely focused on his project. "But I left because...I loved you." You pause as you face the truth, saying it out loud. "I loved you and I was jealous at Angelina. And when we began to fight, I couldn't handle it."

Fred looks up from his tinkering and into your eyes. You bite the inside of your lip unsure of what he thinks of. The expression he was showing is one you can't read.

"Do you still?" He asks in almost a whisper.

"I-" Your heart stops for a second, did you? Even though you kept yourself away from him for two years, you did. You did still love him. "I do."

Without any hesitance, Fred leans in and caresses your cheek, pulling you in for a kiss. For a second you sit frozen in your spot, but when you register what's happening you give in.

When the kiss breaks Fred studies your eyes before he leans in for another. This time you accidentally whimper his name and we he pulls away the looks of mischief in his eyes is unmistakable.

**********

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bloodycassian · 3 years

Text

Little bit smutty! Part 2ish of hellish Reader x cassian

You stared at him. He stared back. And the rest of them stared at both of you. His eyes did not leave yours for an instant. Even when the door slammed shut from a cold wind. Shapes moved in the corner of your vision, but you stayed locked with Cassian. Your shared link was currently a courting battle. A dance of thoughts and feelings, mixed emotions and fear. The fear mainly from your side. And he was trying to comfort you.

"What's going on?" Someone whispered. A small voice, but concerned. A huff of breath, and they were shuffling out of the room. Leaving you and the war lord alone. You could still hear them from the kitchen, but you let it fade. You let yourself be drawn back on that platform where his presence waited for you. You closed your eyes.

"Where are you from?" He asked, too casual to be normal. His mind was protected, but he had opened that connection just enough to be able to ask you questions. "You think I'm going to answer that after your friend nearly killing me?" You said, dancing your essence around him in a tickling way.

He rumbled, that earthy tone of his presence was warm. Welcoming, as if he was made just for you to come home to. "If I had known-" He began, but you cut him off with a sharp shove of force. "You would have what? Not almost killed him?"

He sighed, exasperated. Shame roiled in his gut, but he knew what had to be said. He pushed down the feelings of guilt for what he had done to his brother. "Brother?" You inquired, surprised. "You look nothing alike." Which was neither a good or bad thing. They were both some of the most gorgeous males you'd ever seen. Much better looking than the warriors at home who only worked on the muscles visible. You could tell he was built, a lithe warrior through and through. You tried not to imagine him shirtless. A booming heat raced down the line, and you tried your best to get away from those thoughts. He shifted on the couch.

"Metaphor. Tell me how we can help you." He was upfront, straight to the point and you appreciated it. However, you weren't going to give up your assignment just because you'd met a male that happened to be your mate. The Witches would burn you alive. Or turn you into a wicked monster for the rest of eternity. You shivered at the ideas that they could draw to life.

You scowled, "You mean how I can help your court, right?"

"You tell me. You seem pretty freaked out about whoever you're doing this for." He said with a sly tone. You felt yourself burn, rage and embarrassment lurching forward. A quiver of humor ran down the line that connected you. You tried to shut it out, to somehow cut off that connection.

"Sorry honey, we're stuck with this now." He said aloud, breaking you away from that dark bridge. You cracked your eyes slowly, wishing it was all a dream. His cocky expression made your heart soar, and your muscles burn with the urge to hit him.

It was a struggle for Cassian to leave you. Especially to leave you with Amren. He warned her that if anything happened there would be helll to pay. She merely waved a hand and told him to piss off. He was fighting himself and everyone else, it seemed.

"We cannot have them here with so little knowledge of-" Azriel stopped when Cassian entered, his boots thudding against the familiar wooden floor. He looked away, ashamed. Rhys was trying his best to keep himself under control and consider the mating bond. Tried to make himself think back to the first weeks of his and Feyre's taking place. The possessiveness, the hunger. He looked at his brother in a new light, being able to control his urges was a battle even Rhys hand't won. "Az, I'm sorry." Cassian said through his teeth. He was tired of the guilt, of the way Azriel dared not speak around him. "Can you please just-"

"Not until we have your bond...figured out." Rhys interrupted. He looked Cassian up and down in a way that made Cas feel dirty.

"Theres nothing to figure out, Rhys. My mate is just an assassin sent to kill my own brother, and now we dont know if there's a scouting party out for us or not." "I know Cassian, it's not about the threat. It's about you." Rhys met his brothers eyes, saw the smoldering there. Azriel only glanced to Rhys, then wrapped those shadows around himself and left. He ascended the stairs slowly, not daring a glance in your direction. You could see the shadows crawling after him like a loyal pet.

It gave you goosebumps to watch. You stared at the small female that was assigned to watch over you. She sipped from a paper cup like it was salvation. "Good wine?" You asked, nodding to her hand.

She glanced between it and you, then trilled a long laugh.

+ Cassian knocked on your window that night. Rhys had refused to allow you to sleep in the same house together, especially since you were locked up. He feared Cassian would break down the entire house trying to get to you if he had any...urges.

Your heart raced when your eyes met his through the glass. His smile was bright against the dark sky. "What do you want?" You hissed, trying to make sure he heard the quiet rage in your voice.

"Come on, I wont tell." He gripped the windowsill, and held a hand out for you. He reached down that bond and caressed your spirit with a warm, golden light. Hope, and joy. Your stomach flipped. And without thinking, you let him take you into the night. You found flying with him exhilitarting, and relaxing. The soft sway that carried you nearly put you to sleep. The mind bridge was silent, as if it was waiting for something. His siphons glowed a happy amber that lit up the water when he coasted over a small lake. Then he landed, the rocks on the bank making nearly zero noise.

And the breath was knocked from you. The tall mountain eclipsing the stars themselves was reflected in the lake in perfect clarity. The stars shimmered around it, framing the snow capped peaks. There was a brush of cold wind that made you wrap your arms around yourself. Then, Cassian was there. "May I?" He asked, holding a long sleeved tunic up. You hadn't noticed the bag he packed before. You nodded, and let him guide the sleeves over your arms.

He brushed your hair off of your neck and you felt it then. The hot rush that snapped in your core. He stilled completely, that bridge alight with heat that was never there before. Your neck tingled, practically begging for him to touch you again. Your skin was too hot.

His words began tumbling out before he could think. "I'm sorry I-" Nerves pricked at his stomach, making him nearly nauseous with disgust at himself. Stupid. Stupid male taken over by instinct and nothing else. He was risking his entire court for one person. His mate, though. He tried to shake the reasoning away, but it was undeniable.

"Touch me." You managed to whisper. Your eyes wide, you dared not look at him. If you did you feared you would be the one taking him instead of the other way around. You stared out toward the icy peaks.

He hesitated long enough for your eyes to dart to his, to see the full blown pupils there. His siphons flared, and you couldn't hold back the flare of desire any longer. He met you half way, lips crashing into yours. It was a competition, who could get the other to moan first. You were determined to win.

He flicked his tongue over your lip. You growled and ripped his tunic off, exposing the muscled torso underneath. You pulled away, wanting to taste him everywhere, anywhere. He kept you at bay, watching you for only a second before a wicked grin appeared. "My turn." He growled, his voice deep and husky.

He pulled off your shirt and traced a long line down your side, earning a hiss from you. Then, he stopped. Suddenly, coldly. "You're-" His mouth fell open at the tattoo on your sternum. The sigil that marked you with what you were. You had forgotten completely. You rushed a hand to his hair, pulling back sharply. "Shut up and fuck me." You demanded. Despite his unease, he obliged with a cocky grin.

#hellish #cassian x reader

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millenialfanfictionaddiction · 3 years

Text

Go Go Let's Go! Let's Go! Dateko! (Pt 3)

⚠️THIS FIC IS 18+ NSFW, MINORS DNI ⚠️

Warnings: angst, swearing, fluff, smut mentioned

Word count: 7,000 +

You wake up the next morning fully exhausted.

After yet another round before you both cooked dinner, you ended dinner with Takuro fucking you against the wall as you gushed around his cock.

You hadn't fucked that much since you were in your early 20s. And for a man in his late 40s, Takuros stamina was unmatched.

It took you an hour to pack up and leave because he had to fuck you again in the bedroom and on the couch.

"I seriously can't get enough of you" He says as he walks you to your car.

"Well we will definitely be having more sleep overs very soon" you say as he kisses you.

"Dont leave" he says, hugging you tightly "Please stay"

"Taku I can't Kenji will be home soon" you say as you places kisses on his neck.

"When are we going to tell him Y/N? He deserves to know" Takuro said

He was right. Kenji needed to know. The last thing you wanted was to lie to your son,

"I'll talk to him tonight ok" you say as Takuro smiles at you and kisses you goodbye.

You arrive home grabbing your bag from the car. You hope Kenji isn't home yet as you approach your house. You see a light on.

fuck

You open the door and walk in.

"Hi Kenji, sorry I'm late. I was at grandma and gran-" you say as you look up to see your son glaring at you.

"Kenji are you ok?" You say with concern on your face.

"Oh I don't know mom. How would you feel if you saw your mother kiss your coach in public?" He says as your eyes widen.

"Thought I was going to grab some snacks but turns out I got a whole ass meal in the form of my mother making out with my volleyball coach! What in the actual fuck mom? How long? How long have you been lying to me?" He screams at you as you shutter back

You've never seen your son so angry as he is right now.

"It's one thing for you to come to out games Mom but for you to date my coach?? Seriously mom that's too far" Kenji screams at you as you stand there absorbing it all.

"I mean Jesus Christ mom! You couldn't go an date some other random man! Why can't you just get your own life! Instead you have to fuck my coach! I hate you!" He screams as he stomps to his room slamming his door.

You can't say anything. You're completely frozen.

He hated you. The words swarmed your mind over and over

Had you going out with Takurō really affected Kenji this much? You feel your eyes begin to swell as tears began to roll down your cheeks. You turn, slowly moving to your room as you feel the tears begin to fall faster.

You didn't sleep much that night. Not at all really. You couldn't believe you broke you child's trust like that. You hated yourself and hated that you made him so uncomfortable.

You had to talk to Takuro. You sent him an early text at 5am as you made your way to the kitchen. You noticed Kenji's door was still closed ad you made coffee and fruit to take to your room. You return to a message asking to meet you before morning practice.

You get dressed and leave the house without a sound. You try to be as quiet as you can be as to not disturb your sleeping kid. I've already messed up his life enough I don't want to mess up his sleep you say to yourself as you get in your car and drive to the school. It's 6:00am by the time you arrive. Takurō is already waiting for you.

You get out of your car as he notices the tears spilling from your eyes.

"Y/N what's wrong is everything ok?" He rushes to you and pulls you into a hug. Your tears completely drowning out everything, including the preying eyes of a certain 2nd year manager as she approaches the side of the school.

Mai stops when she sees you and the coach. She hears you crying and backs up next to the gym to listen.

"I'm sorry Takuro but I can't keep seeing you" you say as yu look at him with tears streaming down your face.

"I don’t understand Y/N I thought-" Takuro says concerned

"Kenji found out about our dates. Apparently he saw us with a few members of the team. He was really upset and told me I need to stay out of his school life" you say as your tears begin to flow quicker.

Takuro pulls you into a hug. He doesn't want you to be upset

"Y/N let me talk to him please I want to be with you" Takuro says as he pulls away placing his hand under your chin.

"Takuro no please he already hates me enough. I can't lose my son. He's right I should have never pryed in his life. I'm so sorry Takuro. I really like you but I can't do this to Kenji" you say as you back up to gave him.

Takuro is devastated to say the least. The women he cares so deeply for is forced to make a choice because he had crossed the line between parent and coach.

"No Y/N, it's my fault. I'm sorry that this happened. I don't blame you. If anything this is my fault. I should have been more responsible. You are Kenji's mom and I'm his coach. It was inappropriate" he says as he looks down.

Somehow it hurt even more to hear Takuro say those words. You knew he cared for you but he was trying to take the burden of your son's blame off of you.

Meanwhile Mai is both crying and furious.

Could Kenji really be this big of an ass?

"Thank you for supporting the boys Y/N. It was a pleasure" Takuro says as he waves to you turning to walk towards the gym.

You get in your car as you start to drive home. The tears consistently rolling down your cheeks. You park the car as you completely lose your cool. You start beating on the steering wheel screaming and crying as you let all your pent up emotions out.

you're neighbors probably think your insane

After 15 minutes you walk in the house, noticing Kenji's door is open. You decide to leave him be as you make your way to your room still sniffling from your car melt down.

You walk into your room and lay down. You've already called out of work for the day as you feel like you just mentally can't do it. You lay in bed as you feel the emotions take over again.

Meanwhile Kenji arrives at school. He's still mad about his discovery of yours and his coaches relationship. He can't believe you would do such a thing to him. To invade his personal life like that.

Coach doesn't say anything though out practice. Kenji figures his mom already has him in her side through this whole ordeal. Why wouldn't he be?

"Mai can you tell coach we need to get the jerseys altered" Kenji says to Mai as she watches coach look to Kenji and walk out of the gym.

"Tell him yourself" Mai says snarkily as she turns away.

"Mai just do it" Kenji says "i’m not in the mood today"

"Why because you’re ashamed you made your mom cry" Mai yells as the team stops.

Mai looks at Kenji and she's pissed.

"You know you have the sweetest kindest mom in the entire world and she's happy. But you can't have that can you Kenji because you're a massive ass" Mai screams.

Kenji is heated. He doesn't know how Mai found out but he isn't going to take being yelled at.

"Mai you have no idea what you're even talking about so just butt out" Kenji screams at her and Aone walks in from of Mai forming a protective barrier.

"It's ok Aone. I'm not scared of Kenji" she says as steps in front of Aone "you know what I saw this morning Kenji? I saw your mom and coach in the parking lot. And your mom was crying. Like hard core crying telling coach that she couldn't see him anymore."

Mai is shouting at Kenji as Kenji just stares.

You were really crying? And worse is he caused it?

"You know Kenji your mom goes out of her way to do everything for this team! Coach shows interest in her and she likes him back and suddenly its an attack on you?" Mai is screaming at this point, tears flowing down her face.

The team watches in shock. They have never seen Mai this angry before.

"Newsflash asshole you're mom is allowed to be happy! She told coach she couldn't see him anymore because of you! She told him she didn't want to hurt YOU KENJI. Your mom is heartbroken and she's worried because he son is upset because she's happy? Give me a fucking break!" Mai screams one last time as she turns to walk out of the gym, slamming the door behind her.

The boys stand in silence. Kenji is shocked.

you really liked coach that much and you really cared enough about him to ruin whatever you and coach had going on?

The team turns as they shake their heads in disbelief at Kenji, even Aone shows emotion.

"You are the only one who sees an issue here Kenji" he speaks as he walks back to join the team.

Kenji walks out of the gym doors as he slides down the outer walls. He really was being an ass. He didn't care about your feelings only his own personal standings as the captain of the iron wall.

He got up walking to the coaches office. He knocks as Takuro directs him to enter.

Takuro looks up at Kenji and back to his paperwork. He doesn't sound good. He sounds like he's upset.

"Yes Futakuchi" Takuro chokes out.

Kenji clears his throat "do you really care about her?"

Takuro looks up from his work spinning around his in chair.

"I do but she made it clear that you come first. As a good mother should. You are really lucky to have her. She cares for your very deeply and she loves you so very much" he says she he swivels around facing his work with his arms resting in his desk as his hands lean against his forehead

"I see" he says as he crosses his arms in front of his chest "then I guess I owe you both an apology".

Takuro turns in his chair to see a soft smiling Kenji as a smile slowly appears on his face.

The day seems to drag on. It's only 4pm but it feels like you've been in bed for days. You decide to get up and shower, planning to make dinner before Kenji comes home. He might not want to speak with you but you're still his mother.

You shower and walk to the kitchen to prepare dinner. You start to sniffle again as you try not to let it go into a full blown cry session. You hear the door open as you continue to cut up vegetables.

You don't hear anything as you look up to see your tall son leaning against the door frame to the kitchen with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

You smile lightly as you try not to cry more. The tears seem to flow no matter how hard you try to control them.

"Mom" Kenji says in a sweet voice.

You look up smiling at him as you wipe your tears "Oh hi sweetheart how was practice?"

He frowns walking over to you as he hugs you from behind. No longer being able to control the tears you turn around hugging your son as you crying into his shoulder.

"Kenji I'm so sorry. Please forgive me! I didn't mean to ruin your life. I just got excited and-" you say as your tears continue to wet his date tech tracksuit.

"Mom stop ok" Kenji says as he pulls away placing hands on your shoulders.

"Mom I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I was a complete ass to you. I didn't even listen to your side of the story" he says as he looks at you ashamed "you've done so much for me and I ruined your happiness."

"It's ok baby I overstepped my boundaries. I'm sorry" you say as you hug him.

"Mai told me what happened with you and coach" Kenji said sweetly as he looks at your shocked face.

"M-Mai was there" you say as your eyes widen.

"Yeah and I'm glad she was. She told me what happened. She told me you told coach you couldn't see him" Kenji said looking down at you.

"It's ok Kenj. Coach was ok with it. He understood you came first" you say sweetly.

"Well Im not ok with it" Kenji says as he pulls away from you walking towards your front door. He opens the door for someone as your eyes widen.

"T-Takuro?" you say as you place your hands over your mouth.

"Hi Y/N" he says as he goes to hug you. You hug him back as you cry into this shoulder.

"Shh it's ok Y/N" he says as you break from the hug.

"Kenji?" you say questioningly to your son

"Mom I realized your happiness is more important than my reputation" he says as he looks at both you and coach.

"Kenji" you say as you start to cry yet again going to hug your son "you're really ok with this?"

"Yeah mom. I'm happy if your happy. Now go get ready. Coach is taking you out on a date or whatever" he says as he rolls his eyes and waves his hand walking go his room.

"Really" you say as you run back to Takuro and he chuckles. "Yes sweetheart" he says as he leans down the kiss you.

"God I'm never going to get use to this" Kenji says as he closes his bedroom door.

You both laugh as you deepen the kiss with the man of your affections.

*2 days later*

"Oh Ms. Futakuchi! It's so nice to see you" Obara shouts as Kenji rolls his eyes walking the complete other way as you and Takuro stroll into practice hand in hand.

"Thank you! It's nice to see you too" you smile.

"I see Mai got through to Kenji" Obara smirks as the rest of the team laughs.

"Alright time for laps" Kenji screams clapping his hands together trying to avoid the inevitable

"Wait what did Mai say?" You look at Kenji as he hides his face then to coach who starts laughing.

Mai was looking down at the floor, softly smiling.

"Well our sweet Mai laid in hard to ole Kenji. She told him he was being an ass and told him that you deserved the world" he says as he grabs your waist.

"Mai" you say as your mouth gapes and your eyes sparkle "Thank you!"

You run to hug her as she hugs you back.

"Marry this one Kenji! I like her a lot more than I like you" you snicker as you turn to leave practice.

Kenji just smiles as you walk hand in hand with Coach out of the gym.

"Whatever you say mom. Whatever you say"

#dateko #date tech #Oiwake Takuro #justiceforthehaikyuucoachs #haikyuucoaches #haikyuu #haikyū!!#haikyuu!!#teammom #team mom series #team mom

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blackwidowyael · 3 years

Text

One of those days

Hey y'all! I just received my first request from @thoughfulmilkshakeface, and here it is, hope you all enjoy! psa I am taking requests, mainly Natasha/Yelena/Wanda centric, and I dont do reader inserts or anything too smutty so feel free to leave smth in ma inbox ;)

Natasha has bad days. Clint knows this, and he also knows that the bad days will pass, making space for the good ones, where they can go out to the movies, or grab lunch, or take Lucky to play ball in the park without the change of routine sending her reeling.

It is these days that he treasures the most, when he can pretend, even if it is only briefly, that they are just another normal couple, with normal problems like squabbles over who’s turn it is to take out the trash or clean up after the dog.

Today is not one of those days.

Clint can tell from the moment they wake up. He cracks open an eye just in time to see the flash of metal handcuffs disappearing into Natasha’s nightstand.

The handcuffs rarely make an appearance anymore, and only on those nights where she is filled with an anxious restlessness, a sense of uneasiness that only the cool slicing of the metal can satiate.

She never talks about it, refuses to acknowledge that they still have a lingering control over her that she can’t quite shake. Clint understands what it is like to feel that lack of autonomy, and never pushes her to stop.

Lucky knows that Natasha has bad days as well. She stumbles past where he is eagerly awaiting breakfast, straight to the gym without so much as a glance in his direction. It is like she is barely even there.

Clint drags himself into the kitchen, narrowly avoiding hitting Lucky in the face as he reaches down to pat him through a haze of sleep. He fills Lucky’s bowl, and slides two pop tarts onto a plate. A smile almost reaches his face as he thinks about the plan Nat concocted to sneak them past the addicted demi-God upstairs.

And they wait for the last member of their family to return. Sometimes, an hour in the gym is enough to shake whatever demons were haunting her away and she returns more present, having slipped out of whatever funk she is in.

Today is not one of those days.

They watch the clock as the hands trail round the hour, and into the next. Lucky whines, pressing himself against Clint’s leg. He is weirdly intuitive, can always tell when something’s not right. Almost two hours have passed. Natasha’s coffee has grown cold in the pot.

“I guess you’re right, bud,” Clint sighs, rubbing Lucky behind the ears. “I’ll go check on her.”

At first, he thinks the gym is empty. Music blares out of the speakers as he scans every corner.

He finds her huddled in a crack between the wall and a punching bag. From her vantage point, she has a clear view of the entire gym, but she doesn’t even blink as he settles down in front of her.

Nat’s eyes are glassy, unfocused. Clint waves a hand in front of her face, trying to get her attention. He is wary of touching her when she’s like this, but he really needs to get her to the apartment. Clint can see the blood leaking through her pointe shoes, feet white with the ribbons tight enough to cut off her circulation. Slowly he loops one arm around her shoulders, the other under her knees, narrating as he does so.

No matter what, Clint wants her to feel at least some semblance of control.

“Alright, Tash, back to the apartment. I got you, it’s okay.” He glances at her briefly, to see if he has gotten a response, but she has retreated so far into herself that she can’t hear him. Dissociated, the part of his mind that has attended many therapy sessions with her, supplies.

She has frozen by the time he tries to deposit her on the couch. Eventually, he just sits down with her draped over his lap, hoping that the feel of him breathing would help to ground her. He thinks back to the day before, trying to remember what could have triggered it. Nothing springs to mind, although new triggers still pop up now and then. Maybe something from a mission?

Lucky worries when he sees Natasha like this. It makes Clint sad, and then neither of them will take him to the park. He leaps onto the couch, burying his muzzle in Natasha’s face and showering her with kisses. Suddenly, she stirs, breath shuddering in her chest.

“Nat, you’re okay, you’re safe. We’re in the apartment.”

One hand comes up, shielding her face, while she desperately tries to wriggle out of Clint’s lap. Her breath is beginning to come faster as she squirms, unable to escape Lucky’s slobbery hold.

“Natasha, it’s just Lucky, you’re okay.”

“Clint?”

“Yeah. Can you breathe with me?”

She can’t.

She can feel her breath whistling in her chest, coming faster and faster and despite this feel the lack of oxygen in her brain. Lightheaded. She doesn’t think her legs would support her right now if she tried to run.

Run away from all of this. All these emotions, clawing at her chest and anxiety buzzing in her brain and tingling on her skin and she can't breathe, she can’t-

Breathe.

One fist gripping Clint’s shirt, the soft fabric grounding, while simultaneously keeping herself as far away from him as possible, curled on the opposite side of the couch.

Through the icy panic, she tries to focus on his chest. Watching it rise and fall. She manages to take gulps of air to match, feeling the fog slowly evaporating around her.

“Idiot dog,” she mutters, pushing Lucky away from her.

The buzzing panic leaves her as quickly as it arrives, leaving her drained. The world is far too bright, too sharp, now.

Clint is watching as she tries to collect herself. Natasha feels her mask slamming into place, protecting her from the world and hiding her humiliation. She’s not sure how she got to the couch, but she can feel the concern and smothering pity rolling off of Clint in waves and she hates it.

She just wants to be alone, until she can forget again.

“Nat-”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Clint presses his lips together. This repression shit can’t be healthy, but he knows better than anyone that there’s no point trying to make Natasha talk when she doesn't want to.

“Fine. We don’t have to talk. Can I at least look at your feet?”

Natasha glances down. Her feet are waxy, apart from the red marks made by the ribbons chafing. Blood has congealed around the box of the shoe, spattering its way up the shank.

“I can do it myself, Clint,”

“Natasha, I swear to God.” Clint pushes her back down as she tries to stand, going into the kitchen to grab the first aid box.

Carefully, he unties the ribbons, prying the shoes off her feet. The blood is sticky, and it takes a while for him to get them off without ripping the skin further.

Eventually, both shoes are discarded and he gets a proper look at her.

“Nat, what happened?”

Clint had hoped it would be an easy fix, just a couple of blisters, but apparently it wasn’t one of those days, and nothing was easy. Hundreds of shards of glass are embedded in the soles of Natasha’s feet, and when he looks back to her shoes, he can see more littering the soles.

He gets to work, painstakingly removing each shard and cleaning the cuts, before covering them in adhesive bandage. Questions can come later, when Nat is not still partially dissociated on the couch with a vase’s worth of glass in her feet. Lucky watches, resting his head on Natasha’s lap. This time, she doesn’t push him away, running her fingers through his fur.

“I needed to know that I hadn’t got soft.”

The words echo in the silence, although they were barely audible. Clint carefully schools his expression, keeping his posture open and relaxed.

“And dancing with glass in your shoes proves that how?”

“We used to do it,” Natasha pauses, staring intently at a spot on Lucky’s back, “before.”

Clint nods in understanding. It doesn’t surprise him, seems very on-brand given the sparse details she had shared over the years.

“You haven’t gotten soft, Tash. Why would you think that?”

“But I have,” she presses, leaning forward, “I see it all the time. They told me I could never form attachments, that it would make me weak. And I can’t do the missions I did before,”

“Can’t or won’t? You didn’t have any choice over taking missions, Tash. Just because SHIELD does things differently doesn’t mean you’re any less of an agent.”

“They’re in my head all the time,” Natasha admits. “I can hear them. Telling me I’m sloppy. Weak. They would be so angry if they could see me now. I just. I just needed to feel like I was,”

She breaks off, staring at her hands.

“Like what?” Clint prompts gently.

“Made of marble. That’s what they used to say to me.”

“They’re not here now, Nat. We are. Your family. You don’t need to be all perfect and tough around us.”

Nat shakes her head in exasperation, eyes roaming around the room as she searches for an explanation.

“But I still want them to be proud of me. It’s fucked up. I’m fucked up. They took everything from me and I still want to make them proud.”

“They tortured you, Natasha. They raised you, that’s not just going to go away. You’re not under their control anymore. I just want you, whatever that is.”

Suddenly, she can’t stand this conversation anymore, ignoring her protesting feet as she stalks into the kitchen. Clint follows, Lucky not far behind.

“Love is for children.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

Natasha huffs out a laugh, turning away to reach a mug. “You’d have to be stupid to want me.”

“I guess I really am an idiot then.” Clint reaches out, tugging on her arm until she is facing him.

“Lucky too,” he adds as the dog jumps up, pawing Natasha’s legs.

“Idiot dog.” A tiny smile graces the corner of her mouth.

“You’re more than just an incredible agent, Tash. You’re my best friend, my family. I love you.”

She ducks her head, staring at their intertwined fingers.

“I love you too, idiot.”

Clint grins. It was one of those days.

#natasha and clint #clintasha #natasha romonova #clint barton #lucky the pizza dog #angst #hurt/comfort #fanwork #fanfic #marvel #mcu women #mcu #black widow #hawkeye #red room #natashas fucked up #but arent they all

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melodiesofblueroses · 3 years

Note

Hi I saw that you were open!!

If love some fluff for levi, Lucifer, satan, mammon, and belphegor if you dont mind.

As part of mc's magic training they burn incense too focus. But this time Solomon switched the regular intense with demon nip ( cat nip for demons) as an experiment.

Suddenly the bro's get hyperly aware of mc's presence more than usual and become extremely lovey.

Plz remember to stay hydrated and take care of yourself!💖💖

Aw thank you so much for the request!! This was so fun and cute to write. I decided to go with hcs, and I hope that I managed to write what you had in mind! Take care of yourself as well, remember to take breaks, and I hope you have a good night/day ❤ ❤

»»————-　♡　————-««

✦ Lucifer

Lucifer immediately knew that the incenses were changed and by whom, whether deliberately or by accident and regardless of smell or not

it was as if he had eyes all over the house (although that wasn’t too far of a stretch since the portraits did talk)

the moment he was aware that the usual incenses were changed with demon nip, Lucifer wanted to so badly march down to Purgatory Hall and punish Solomon

but you were so excited for your training, and you practically begged him to stay

ok, that was a lie. Lucifer just didn’t want to admit that he’d rather you not miss a lesson, although that was also just an excuse to spend more time with you

he could always punish Solomon later, and besides, he was one of the strongest demons, he should be able to ignore the effects

oh boy was he wrong

in the following days, Lucifer began to take notice of your presence more and strike up convos way more often, which did confuse you a bit, though you brushed it off as him not wanting to be held liable if anything were to happen to the human exchange student

what really bewildered you was the fact that he was acting so sweet towards you?? like, he’d usually address you formally and with a neutral tone

but now, although it was a bit subtle, his voice went a bit soft whenever he spoke to you, and you couldn’t help but notice how he smiled much more now around you

it was a surprising change, but a welcome one

“y/n, if the work at RAD is too much for you, I can always bring it up to Diavolo and have him lessen the workload”

“would you perhaps care to join me for dinner with Diavolo tonight? you can bring up any concerns you have with the program”

he began to take notice of your wellbeing much more, and while it did freak you out a bit at first, you grew to love it. his soft side was just too adorable

when the effects wore off, Lucifer made you swear to not tell anyone what had happened

if word got out that the demon prince’s right hand demon grew soft, it’d be a pr disaster!

and he also made it his mission to sabotage Solomon’s stay whenever possible in order to get back at him

although the effects did wear off, you noticed that he did begin to take care of you and notice you more, although it was wayy more subtle and you couldn’t tell whether or not he thought it was his obligation

whatever it was, you were glad that Lucifer had managed to open up to you just a tiny bit more

»»————-　♡　————-««

✧ Mammon

honestly, he’d have no idea that the incenses were switched

not because he didn’t know the difference (that was a possibility though) but because he was just too excited to spend some time with you

so you both thought it was a successful session and didn’t think much of it

when the effects kicked in, however, you began to notice that Mammon became a lot more clingy and affectionate

it was as if he was glued to your side, never wanting to leave you with some other demon for too long

“do you have an extra pencil I can borrow?” some demon asked you in class

“of course, here you g-”

“hey, what are ya doing with MY human??”

it does get a bit annoying at times, so when you tell him to knock it off, he’ll try to keep his distance

try

he was no exception to the power of the demon nip after all, but he would try to butt in less, although he was still by your side at all times

on the plus side, this means a lot of cuddles which you didn’t mind whatsoever

he was so warm and cuddly. it was a great way to end the day, especially when the two of you would accidentally sleep in each others’ arms while cuddling

he’d also shower you with gifts

that pen you offhandedly mentioned that one time when you were bored in demon history class? bam, it’s on your bedside table when you get home

you had absolutely no idea where he got the money from but decided it was better not to ask

you’d have to tell him to stop since the gifts were becoming a bit too much, but you really did appreciate the gesture

when the effects wore off, Mammon would become all flustered and try to come up with some excuse as to why he suddenly became all affectionate

“w-well, I was only tryna look after ya! it’s my job!”

you’d miss all the cuddles though, so when you told him that, Mammon would make sure that he’d make time for a cuddling session, although he said it was because you begged him and he, being the oh so great and generous Mammon, couldn’t turn you down

you were just glad that you were able to relish in his touch once more

»»————-　♡　————-««

✰ Leviathan

he’d probably pay no mind to the switched incenses or he wouldn’t be able to tell the difference since all that was going through his mind was laalkjr0*%#$ I’m spending time with y/n

when the effects started kicking in, however, Levi would definitely know that something was up

he was starting to think about you a lot more than usual, and he was super sensitive to your presence. you could very well be in the kitchen, but Levi would still be able to pick up on your location from his room

he’d deduce that someone must’ve made him unknowingly drink a potion or perhaps changed the essences during the training, to which his mind would automatically think of Solomon

ugh, how could he betray him? he was a fellow fan of tsl after all

although he tried to restrain himself, Levi would find himself always dragging you to his room, making excuses that he wanted to show you a new anime or game when in reality, he just wanted to feel your touch

you didn’t mind spending more time with Levi, but you did have a feeling that something was certainly off about him

he was asking you to come hang out with him in his room way more often, and whenever Solomon came over, Levi would say that he was too busy spending time with you??

it was all very odd, but it did mean more time with Levi so you weren’t complaining. this was a win

although Levi tried to restrain himself from asking or doing anything embarrassing, he’d often fail and ask to cuddle or hold hands

your warmth calmed him down, and the effects of the demon nip would wear off whenever you were around

you took this as a sign of him gaining more confidence in himself, so you were quite happy and often obliged to his requests

you did love cuddling him anyway. his jacket was so comfy

“h-hey y/n. could we, ya know, cuddle?”

the last part would come out as meek and quiet, so it’d be a bit hard to hear although you picked it up nonetheless

“of course Levi! I’m always up for some cuddles”

as a result, you practically lived in Levi’s room the entire time the demon nip affected him. the other brothers did pick up on this, but since no one else was allowed in his room, there wasn’t much they could do

like Mammon, when the effects wore off, Levi would be so flustered and go all red, finding it hard to even get out a sentence or two

he couldn’t believe he managed to not only spend so much time with you but also get to cuddle

he did love it, though he’d never admit it. Levi would miss all those cuddling, gaming, and binge sessions

but to his surprise, you always showed up either way, even after all the effects wore off, so he never did bring it up to you

Levi would like to think that he grew a bit more confident after the whole ordeal

plus, he’d have to thank Solomon for being so mischievous and switching up the essences

»»————-　♡　————-««

✣ Satan

Satan had sensed that something was off about the incense during you guys’ weekly training session though he tried his best to brush it off and paid no mind to it

he would soon come to regret that decision, however

Satan is a pretty perceptive guy, so he’d pick up on his symptoms quickly and realize that someone (cough Solomon cough) must’ve switched up the usual incense with demon nip

he’d try his best to keep his distance from you, but it was really difficult when he would catch on to your every footstep and breathe if you were anywhere near him

everywhere he turned, the tiniest little thing seemed to remind him of you

Satan couldn’t take his mind off of you, so he decided that the next best thing to do would be to confront it

so he’d invite you to his study where the two of you would read books by the fireplace (it helped liven the atmosphere) and discuss them until the next morning

you couldn’t really tell that anything was off since Satan kept his composure so well

but he was dying on the inside. he thought that having you close to him would help stave off the effects, but it seemed to only worsen them

so when he decided to ask if it’d be alright if the two of you cuddled, you were a bit taken aback since it was so sudden

but you happily accepted, especially since Satan did look a bit cute with pink on his cheeks

the moment he felt your touch, Satan felt his symptoms alleviate. it really was so relieving, but especially so because he loved your touch

it was so warm and welcoming, similar to that childhood home feeling that he never got to experience

having been born from the wrath of Lucifer, Satan often felt as if he didn’t belong anywhere, but your touch changed it

its warmth told him that he belonged here, and Satan couldn’t be happier

and so he relished in your touch for as long as he could, and even when the effects wore off, Satan found himself still missing your touch, as if the demon nip still had some sort of effect on him

once he felt your touch, he couldn’t go back. it was almost like a necessity for him, similar to how Beel reacts around food

and so, after this entire ordeal, you still spent quite some time clinging on to Satan

you, on the other hand, also greatly appreciated these cuddling sessions. Satan used to seem so distant, always having his nose in a book in order to learn more about the three realms

but now, you felt as if the two of you had grown closer (you had no idea what caused this change but you didn’t complain)

whatever it was, you were grateful, and Satan was grateful for that little experiment Solomon had pulled

»»————-　♡　————-««

★ Belphegor

would realize that something was up during the training session but would probably be too sleepy/tired to try and pinpoint it

as much as he loved spending time with you, Belphegor was about to pass out at any moment, and he’d rather do so in a comfy bed than on the hard floor

since Belphie is always sleeping with you beside him, when he wakes up with the symptoms of the demon nip, he thinks that it’s nothing more than him missing your warmth since you were nowhere to be found

eventually, he’ll begin to realize that no, it isn’t just him missing you but rather due to some sorta spell

he’d most likely try to sleep it off at first

but to no avail

even when he was sleeping, he’d dream about you and pick up on your presence so it was pretty hard to even escape from the thought of you

so he’d probably start being a bit more clingy, although it’d be more like he’d drag you to try and take a nap with him so you didn’t think anything was off at all

“hey, y/n, let’s go take a nap in the attic”

“Belphie we’re in class-”

you would notice, however, that he stuck by your side way more often

it was truly bizarre, but you thought nothing of it

perhaps he just felt left behind since he spent the least amount of time with you?

well, you didn’t mind seeing his adorable sleeping face everywhere, although your arm did often fall asleep at times, which wasn’t ideal when you were in the middle of taking notes

the demon nip would also have an effect on his dreams

in his dreams, Belphie would often feel your warmth, and everything felt at peace. there were no family tensions, no following Diavolo, and no troubles. it was such a shame whenever he woke up from it

and he’d immediately crave your touch once he did, since that felt similar to his dream, similar to his home

as a result, he’d spend a lot of time around you when the demon nip was in effect, always clinging on to you and dragging you to the strangest napping places

you didn’t mind it, however. for one, you got to spend way more time with him, and secondly, it was a good break from the workload of RAD

though he may become less clingy the moment the effects fade away, if you ever showed the desire to have him by your side again, Belphie wouldn’t hesitate to comply

he lived for your touch after all

#asks #obey me #obey me satan #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #obey me mammon #obey me belphegor #headcanons #fluff #obey me shall we date

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soulwillower · 4 years

Text

heat waves • stanley uris

(stanley uris x reader smut)

requested: stanley uris fic where he plays baseball and she plays softball please? best friends to lovers if you can! (bonus for borrowing each other's clothes)

warnings: softball player! reader, swearing, smut at the end sorry, oral (male receiving), fluff mostly though, i promise, unedited as fuck i wrote this all in the last few hours LOL

i hope u dont mind i added smut at the end

(this was inspired partly by the song heat waves by glass animals but just a bit idk)

[losers + reader are 18+.]

3.2k words i think

♡

it was hot.

in fact it was boiling fucking hot, in stan's opinion, and despite loving nearly everything about summer, the heat was the absolute worst of those characteristics by far.

he sighs as he flies down the backroads, away from the baseball fields and towards his house. he's pushing his curls back from his face and groaning as he feels sweat beads on his forehead, his eyes catching the dying sunlight and making him itch to wash his hands.

it's june, and there's a deep heatwave that hit derry that's caused all the a/c units at the store richie works at to disappear from the shelves, the public pool that bill and eddie work at the become overcrowded with kids and families escaping the heat, and the baseball fields to be extremely blistering as mike, stan, and you had to stand under the sun all day the last two days.

his lips twitch up faintly at the thought of earlier today, when he'd had a ten minute break and had ran over in his spikes with mike to catch an inning of the softball game on the fields adjacent to theirs.

the only reason they'd gone was to see you play, of course - and to your embarrassment, they'd caught right when you'd stepped to the plate and had hollered "yeah, baby! y/n/n!" loud enough to make everybody in the stands' head turn and embarrassing enough to make you giggle as you waited for the pitch.

you'd hit a double then, which had also scored in two runs and stan had seen your smile as you stood out at second base, breathing hard and brushing the dirt off your pants. and when he'd waved to you, you waved back with so much pride and excitement that he'd felt his heart skip a beat.

he smiles to himself as he turns the corner into his neighborhood, squinting slightly as the air moves in squiggles feet above the pavement. he swears with a shake of his head - he fucking hates the heat, but the double edged sword of baseball season in the summer makes it worth it.

his phone buzzes from where it's placed in his cup holder and he grabs it, smiling at the y/n y/l/n !!!!! that pops up at the top. he rolls his eyes as he answers, remembering the time when you'd called him a psychopath for having your full name in his phone contact, claiming you knew for a fact he somehow didn't know any other y/n's, so you’d added the exclamation points ‘just for flare.’

he answers, "hey, how was the last game?" he asks as he pulls into his driveway. "we lost." you grumble and he hums as he pulls himself out of the car, leaving his bat bag in the trunk since he's got practice tomorrow. "i'm sorry to hear that. d'you want to come over?" he asks casually as he makes his way inside and sighs at the relief of the air conditioning. "yes, yeah. i do." you say and stan smiles down to the ground at your goofiness. as he enters the kitchen he realizes his parents are out, so he asks, "can you bring food?"

you sigh and he can imagine your grin as you say, "god, the shit i do for you, uris. why can't we go together?" you whine. he snorts, "but i have to shower." he tries to reason, but you retort, "i just spend thirteen hours in the heat too, stan, i need to shower as well."

he smiles, walking up the stairs towards his room. "alright, alright. we can go together, just come over and you can shower here."

"did i mention i love you?" you sigh, almost dreamily. stan stops in his tracks, heart stopping and mouth going dry but still grinning as he hears his name yelled by a voice in the background of your line and you hiss back a muffled, "shut up!"

his face is red as he mutters, "yeah, yeah. love you too, y/n/n. i'll see you soon."

your voice echoes in his head as he stares at the tiles of his shower the entire time he's showering. did i mention i love you? as the ice cold water cascades over his sore muscles, relaxing him and breathing energy back into his tired body, he can't get you out of his head.

your voice, your hair, the way you have so much confidence on the field and yet are the sweetest and funniest person he's every met. as his mind wanders, he thanks god that his shower is freezing and he groans, trying to stop imagining his best friend while he's in the shower.

did i mention i love you?

he steps out soon after that, feeling like a bit of a creep. as he ruffles his towel-dry hair, he hears his front door open. opening the door to the bathroom, he's suddenly facing you, clad in your dirty uniform, your visor still on your head and a tired but happy smile on your face. "where's donny and andrea?" you ask and stan shrugs, chuckling a bit at your dumb nickname for his father, "think they had some meeting and went out after." he's not really focused though, because he's aware that he is standing with only a red towel hanging low on his hips as you stand in front of him, your cheeks red and eyes wide, bouncing around him and avoiding eye contact, flustered as you clear your throat.

did i mention i love you?

he grabs his dirty uniform to sweep into the laundry and gets you a fresh towel, gathering clothes for you to change into before residing to his own bedroom. the shower turns on right as he pulls on his shirt and flops back onto his mattress.

he can't get you off his mind, which isn't necessarily a new development, but ever since the heat wave, his mind has been stuck in a loop that's never ending. y/n, baseball, y/n, baseball, y/n, y/n, y/n....

did i mention i love you?

it's hot in his room and he stares at the patterns in his ceiling, lifting a brow as the spots morph in and out of shapes and suddenly it's back to you, your angelic face in his vision and he almost groans. he loves you way too much, he thinks.

he knows every single feature about you; enough so that your face, beautiful and clear as always, appears in his vision and he's fucked because he knows he’s still be able to remember where every feature, mark or blemish on your face is, even when you're not with him.

even though he knows that your relationship is just platonic, he still finds himself imagining his lips exploring the expanse of your neck and he yearns to touch every part of you, to be touched by you. he can't get you out of his mind.

the shower shuts off so he sits up and rubs his eyes - the danger and power the you have over him almost makes him laugh, especially because if you knew half the things he thought about you, you'd probably kill him.

he's smiling dumbly, thinking about the time you and bill got caught sneaking onto the derry golf course and made richie and stan pick you two up, right as you pad into his room.

"i look like a dumbass, stan!" you groan, lifting your arms as you spin a bit, and he almost dies. he has to shake his head to avoid you seeing his blush because you're standing in front of him, wearing his baseball team practice shirt that has his last name on it and his gym shorts, cinched at the waist to keep them on you and neither things fit you very well but he thinks he's going to lose it because his heart feels so warm.

your hair is wet and making the shirt totally wet where the ends of the strands touch, your skin bright from washing off the eyeblack you'd worn all day. he's so lost in the image of you that you have to repeat yourself.

"stan! stop looking at me, oh my god i want to die." you shove your face into your hands and laugh. he shakes his head rid of his stupor and stands from his bed, laying a hand on your shoulder. "you look incredible right now, y/n. let's go, i'm hungry."

he grabs the hoodie he'd insisted you order for him early last year - with your club team's logo on it and a big, white #2 and your last name on the back. he knows it's too hot to actually wear it, but he's going to take it because you always get cold under his car's a/c.

he's not always the best at approaching you in a way that is comforting, but you beam at him as you follow him out towards his car. you're both walking slowly through the hot nighttime air, half because the air is so thick it feels like you're wading, but half from the exhausting day you'd both had.

every muscle in stan's body aches as he pulls himself into the driver's seat, making sure everything was straight and in place. he doesn't even blush when he turns the key twice before starting the ignition, knowing that you don't mind and even show affection towards his compulsions after all this time. his heart thumps at the thought.

"where to?" you yawn as you ask and he can feel your eyes on him as he's leaning back, backing his car out of the driveway. he flushes once again under your beautiful gaze.

stan then finds himself in the back of his trunk at the quarry, the windows still up because you insisted it'd be too hot with the door open. he'd listened to you because you're you - but if it had been bill, or eddie, or ben, or mike or bev or especially richie he would have groaned and complained about how bad it was for his battery to keep the a/c running.

but it was you, so he did it with a smile on his face and a thump in his heart. you're sitting with your knees touching, stomachs full of fries, burgers, and vanilla milkshakes.

you're still working on your milkshake, spooning it into your mouth slowly as you tell stan a story about your day. "-and she slid under the tag - no, don't look at me like that, she was under it! - and the fucking ump called her out." you grumble, glaring into your milkshake. stan just grins, taking in your natural hair and how it's framing your face, the way your legs gleam in the moonlight and showcase the random bruises you have from taking pitches to the legs.

he forgets to respond and you look up at him, lifting a brow. "oh, yeah, i got a few bruises." you mutter, examining your leg yourself. you perk up, "look at this one! it's got stitch marks!" you say enthusiastically, pulling your bare thigh up so it's across stan's lap, scooting closer to him. he gulps, the proximity of you to him making it hard to focus as you run your fingers over the skin.

"shit." he mutters, hingers falling to touch the purple skin that was blossoming in a faint circle, red and purple stitch marks from the softball etching their way onto your skin. "that must've stung." he adds, eyes glued to your bare leg. you hum in agreement and suddenly your eyes are meeting his and he can't breathe at all.

you're closer than he'd expected as you straighten up, leg falling flat against his lap as you stare deep into each other's eyes. yours are swimming with wonder as you watch him, and he almost jumps when your hand lands on his shoulder. "what're you thinking? you're in your head a lot tonight, stan." you say gently, with all the care in the world and he doesn't really feel the usual twinge of guilt he feels for being more reserved than usual - instead he just feels like he may explode if he doesn't just tell you.

"y/n." he says it so quietly that all he can hear is the first part of your name. "uh-i... uh, maybe it's the heat wave, but..." he shakes his head, knowing that excuse with not work. you're too smart to believe a fib that simple. he sighs.

"no. no, i just- sometimes all that i think about is you." he says, his hand falling to rub over your bare thigh. he feels your muscles tense under his palm and he searches your eyes, his stomach tying itself into knots of anxiety as he waits patiently.

"what-what do you mean?" you ask softly, eyes flickering between his and he bites his lips, looking out to the quarry quickly before looking at you. he thinks about the days you've spent together with the others down at the water, all the drunken nights where you find your way to the clubhouse you'd all built in middle school.

he thinks about how you always, always make it to his games when you're not also playing; how you always sit at the far top right of the bleachers and scream his name loud enough that he can hear you even when he's way out in center field, how you always wear his away uniform jersey and give it back to him with a hug after the games. he thinks about all the hours the two of you have spent together at derry's batting cages, competitively keeping tallies of how many line drives you can each hit.

"stan?" you ask again softly, biting your lip. "i think about you too." you tell him, and he shakes his head, knowing that you aren't totally understanding him (but that's definitely not your fault).

"i think i love you."

he says it louder than intended, and it slices through the midnight air in a way that makes the world stagnant. he swears, even the frogs stop croaking, the cicadas stop buzzing, the wind stops blowing through the leaves in the forest.

"like... like you love me?" you ask, your leg still across his lap, hand still on his shoulder reassuring him that you at least weren't completely disgusted by his admission.

"like i'm in love with you." he reiterates, looking straight into your apprehensive eyes as he says it. it takes barely a split second before you're smiling at him in a grin that knocks the wind right out of stan's chest again.

"what made you decide that?" you ask with a huge, breathtakingly sweet smile as your hands slide to hold his neck. he huffs a laugh, unsure still, "dunno. lots of things - everything about you, really." he mumbles, feeling slightly stupid but still incredibly giddy as you lean closer.

"well i'm in love with you, stan." you say, lips ghosting over his. he grins, the feeling of you so close to him making his fingers tingle as one hand stays on your thigh, the other falling to your hip.

he can't speak, so instead he closes the gap. your lips are warm against him - your whole body is - as you come to life, kissing him like you've been doing it your whole life. you whimper lightly and it makes him sigh with pleasure, tilting his head to deepen the kiss, tasting the vanilla of your milkshake on your tongue.

slowly, you slide onto his lap and his hands move up your back, pulling you impossibly closer to him, his tongue swiping against your plush lips. you're straddling him, cupping his jaw with both hands as you accept his tongue, yours caressing his sweetly and he wonders why you haven't been doing this your whole life.

he pushes against you, pulling you closer to him as you pull back for breath. "i've wanted to do that for so long." you mutter lowly as his lips immediately attach to the soft expanse of your skin, his fingers tickling down your bare thighs. he grins as he feels goosebumps form under his palms, biting down and sucking the soft skin on your throat, eliciting a moan from you.

he pulls back a bit, "me too." he says, lips peppering kisses all the way up to your lips and catching them again, your hand sliding into his har and tugging on the strands.

you slowly grind against him and he groans at the feeling of you around him, the pleasure making his mind fuzzy as all he can think about it you.

and then he’s dying because you’re trailing a hand down to palm him through his pants and all he can do is groan a bit against your chest and look at you because holy shit.

you slide off his lap and down on to your knees in the small space between his legs, watching him with those beautiful doe eyes as you slide down his shorts slowly.

he’s watching, lip caught between his teeth as you pull him free from where he strains against his boxers, licking your lips and pumping his base a few times. he grunts as your hand moves, the feeling making him twitch in pleasure. his cock is dripping precum and you slowly reach your tongue out, swirling around his tip. he lets out a dejected moan and grips your shoulders as you slowly take him into your mouth, wet and warm and perfect.”good girl.” he mutters quietly through his bliss and he notices how you flush under the praise, your tongue flattening as you take him further in.

as you bob your head down and try to take as much of him as you can, you look up through your lashes to watch him, the eye contact making his legs weak.

his lips are parted, watching as you suck him off as his hips twitch, hands playing with your hair through his pleasure. "fuck, y/n..." he moans as you start to bob your head quicker, lifting one of your hands to grab his own. he lets you guide his hand to the back of your head and you gently put pressure on it.

he thinks he might faint as he realizes what you want. slowly, he pushes you further down on his cock and he gasps at the tight feeling of you gagging around him.

he groans, “you like that, hm?” quietly as you whimper around his cock, the vibrations nearing him to his high. “holy shit.” he mutters to himself as he moves your head, the lewd noises of his cock in your mouth and his moans filling up the car.

you take him as far into your mouth as you can and he feels you try to relax as he gently pushes you further down on his cock until he hits the back of your throat. you moan, the vibrations pushing him to the edge as his hips buck up slightly.

you choke and pull off of him, catching your breath as you make eye contact, “being so good for me.” he mutters, his eyes glazed over as he watches you pump him. you smile, cheeks pink from the praise and he almost swoons with how fucking perfect you look.

he lets out a low moan at your warm mouth taking him in, bobbing up and down. his hands push you down onto him again and he holds you there while he gently thrusts up, your hands on his thighs. he tilts his head back, eyes squeezing shut in pure bliss.

its only a few seconds and he barely gets out a, "fuck, y/n, i'm gonna-" before he's spilling into your mouth. to his surprise, you moan around him and slowly lick him up and swallow, looking up at him with a tired smile.

“holy shit.” he says yet again, staring at you as you pull his shorts back up and bite your lip. he pulls you into a kiss and he can taste himself on your lips, making his stomach flip.

"date me." he says quickly as he pulls back, his cheeks flushed from the taste of you on his tongue and the post-orgasmic bliss. you pull back, grinning. "well you don't have to be so polite about it." your voice sounds fucked-out and kind of raw and he’s certainly a dead man.

he chuckles, rolling his eyes at your sarcastic tone. he loves you so fucking much. "fine. y/n, please be my girlfriend. i want to be your boyfriend, i want us to date. please, will you go out with me?" his voice is dead-pan, but he's serious about it, and you can tell by his boyish grin.

you laugh, shaking your head. "god, was that so hard?" you ask, your hands rubbing over his chest, where his muscles tense in soreness. he then realizes you're still straddling him and how fucking sore you must be. he pulls you closer.

and then you pull him in for another kiss, both of your teeth clashing slightly from your grins. you didn't even explicitly say yes, stan wants to say, but instead he mutters, "did i mention i love you?"

you smile, cheeks red. “you might have mentioned it.” you say bashfully. he grins, kissing your cheek sweetly, hand running up your thigh slowly. “can i taste you, babylove?” he mumbles against your skin and he feels you shiver as you let out a quiet moan.

you grin, kissing him on the lips, “why dont we go back to your place...can i stay the night?” you ask, cheeks aflame as you look at him. “i want to take our time.” you add.

it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen and he nods, grinning at you. “fuck- yes, yes you can. of course.” he says, smiling at you. you kiss him heatedly, grinning as you pull back and lean over to crawl back to the passenger seat. stan slaps your ass lightly as you do and you squeal, grinning back at him with a lifted brow, “c’mon, uris. you’re scoring tonight.”

he rolls his eyes at your cheesy words and groans a bit, but he can’t ignore the butterflies that thrash in his chest nonetheless.

you love him.

tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @stenbrozier @simplesammyx @dickology64 @clownsloveyou @baby-yoda-a @moon-shine-baby @daughter-of-the-stars11 @lets-vibe-bro @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @finnskindofwoman @kait-tozier @upamongthestarss @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @diorbubs

#stanley uris x reader #losers x reader #requests #i love stanley uris #losers club x reader #richie tozier x reader #richie tozier smut #bill denbrough x reader #eddie kaspbrak x reader #eddie kaspbrak smut #bill denbrough

295 notes · View notes

obxfics · 4 years

Text

The Kitchen

summary: as you look for your cousin, you end up enlisting the help of someone with whom you share a mutual dislike

pairing: jj maybank x reader

word count: 1,951

a/n: second pogue fic for choose your own adventure! it has been so long since i updated this series i am so sorry!! i tried to make this different from john b’s part because i dont want every part to seem too similar. once again i’m planning on a part two for jj like with john b! i hope y’all enjoy!

Introduction The Dock

Masterlist Taglist

“I’m checking the kitchen!” you called over your shoulder as you ran back into the club.

Jaime was known to eat everything so it wouldn’t surprise you if he tried to sneak into the kitchen to manipulate some poor busboy into giving him food with that angelic face of his. It worked every time on your parents and your mother’s parents, and they weren’t even his grandparents!

You rounded a corner and slowed your pace as you entered the dining room, making a beeline for the kitchen’s swinging doors. Just as you passed the bar and were about to push open the doors, someone stepped in front of you to block your path. Looking up, you found yourself meeting the cerulean gaze of JJ Maybank. Your heart leapt into your throat as you glared up at him. He didn’t like you, and you didn’t like him, but damn he was pretty. He matched your glare and cleared his throat.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” he asked as he put his hands on his hips. “Employees only, sweetheart.”

You scoffed and attempted to glance around him to see if you could catch a glimpse of your baby cousin. JJ quickly moved to block your view every time.

“Hey, would you stop?” He placed his hands on your shoulders to keep you in place. “Why do you want to stick your nose in there anyways?”

You rolled your eyes and sighed. Since he wasn’t going to be letting you step foot in there, you would unfortunately have to enlist his help.

“Did you see a little boy run in there?” you asked as you raised your hand to your waist. “He’s about this tall, curly dark hair, cute little dimples?”

JJ stared at you like you had lost your goddamn mind. You rolled your eyes again and shrugged off his hands, determined to get around him if he wasn’t going to help.

“Whoa, easy, you still can’t go in there,” he huffed as he once again moved to stop you. “Sorry, but I haven’t seen any kids around here. Your kind usually have them at the kids camp by the golf course.”

His eyebrows furrowed when he saw the way you ran a hand down your face. He could tell you were stressed, and suddenly Kie’s voice was whispering in his brain that he needed to stop being an asshole and help you or she would kick his ass.

“This kid you’re looking for, how old is he?”

“Six,” you replied. “He’s my little cousin. Jaime.”

“Hey.” He waited until you met his gaze and then offered you a small smile. “I still can’t let you inside, but I can go in and look. Ask the others if they’ve seen him. Is that okay?”

He could see the exact moment you processed his offer because he literally saw some of the stress in your shoulders leave your body. A smile tugged at your lips and you nodded gratefully. JJ was struck with the realization that you had never actually smiled at him before. Not that he could recall. He could see why Kie liked to hang around with you. When you weren’t glaring at him like he’d personally ruined your entire day, your smile actually filled him with a warm feeling that spread from his belly. Kinda like laying out in the sun on the HMS Pogue.

“That would be great, JJ,” you answered in a soft voice. “Thank you.”

“I’ll be right back.”

You nodded, and he stepped back into the kitchen, scanning the place for the curly haired boy you had described. Sounded like a sweet kid, and if he was related to you, he had to be cute. JJ approached one of the other waiters on his break.

“Hey, bro, you seen a kid around here?” he asked, watching as the poor guy tried to chew and swallow his lunch. “Super small, probably super cute too, I’m not sure. Goes by the name Jaime. His cousin is looking for him.”

Finally his coworker managed to choke down the food and took a quick sip of water before answering, “Check with Anne. I think I saw her take some kid into the office a while ago.”

JJ sighed in relief and smiled. “Thanks, bro. Enjoy your lunch.”

He hurried over to the office where Anne, his boss, usually took her breaks. She was a fair boss, letting JJ take home any leftovers from his shift and checking in if he ever showed up late. It didn’t surprise that she would take in a little kid lost in the kitchen. He knocked on the door before poking his head in. A grin grew on his face when he saw the boy with curly hair and dimpled cheeks sitting in one of the chairs with his little feet swinging.

“Anything I can help you with, JJ?” Anne asked as she looked up.

“Just came to snag the kiddo,” he replied. “His cousin is looking for him. Tried to break into the kitchens to find him,” he joked.

The boy looked over his shoulder at JJ, and the blonde surfer swore he melted at the sight of the dimpled smile that was so much like yours. What was in your gene pool that it produced such warm smiles? JJ blinked and smiled at the kid.

“C’mon, your cousin is worried sick, kiddo.”

Jaime slid off the chair and waved to Anne. “Thank you, Miss Anne!”

“Anytime, little one,” she promised, giving JJ a look that clearly said do not mention this to anyone. “JJ will make sure you get back to your family safe.”

A small hand slipped into JJ’s, and he wanted to scream. He had never really been good with kids, not that he had gotten many chances to interact with them, but he had to admit, they were adorable. The way they would just put so much trust into people, looking up at him with wide eyes and even wider smiles. He could’ve seen himself as a big brother if things had been different.

“Jaime!”

As soon as JJ swung open the doors, you were running over to sweep your little cousin into a warm hug. JJ felt a strange pang in his chest at the sight of the familial love. He briefly wondered what it would feel like to have that. To have his dad worry as much for him as you worried for Jaime.

“You can’t wander off like that, okay?” you told Jaime as you looked him over for any injuries. “Christian and Diego are still out looking for you. Oh, shit, I should text them!” Your eyes widened when you noticed JJ smirk and heard Jaime giggle. “Okay, wait, do not repeat that word. Your parents will kill me.”

Jaime looked up at JJ as you hurriedly typed a text to your brothers so they knew Jaime was found. The boy giggled and smiled, making JJ realize he was already missing some baby teeth. When did kids usually lose those?

“You work here right?” Jaime asked him.

“That’s right, kiddo. I bring people their food.”

His eyes lit up. “Can I have some?”

JJ almost laughed when he saw the way your head snapped to fix Jaime with a stern look.

“Jaime, you can’t just ask him to bring you food! That’s rude,” you hissed before offering JJ an apologetic look. “Besides, JJ is supposed to be serving other people right now.”

“Actually, as of…” he quickly checked his watch before continuing, “two minutes ago, I’m on break. And I could really go for some fries, what do you think, kiddo?”

He could feel his heart swell when he saw how excited Jaime got at the prospect of French fries, but it was over for him when he caught the look you were giving him. Like you were seeing him for the first time. He could feel his ears getting red and ducked his head, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“If it’s okay with you, of course,” he directed at you.

“I… yeah, that’s fine. Thank you.”

You and Jaime took a seat at a table to wait as JJ disappeared into the kitchen again. Jaime looked around at the dining room and the open windows facing the water on one side and the golf course on the other. He still wasn’t used to all the fancy things on Figure Eight.

“Your friend is nice,” Jaime said.

You couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your face. “Yeah, I guess he is.”

As JJ spent his break entertaining your cousin, you couldn’t tear your eyes from the pretty blonde. For the longest time the two of you had barely tolerated each other for Kie’s sake, but today he had gone out of his way to help you. And gone out of his way to spend more time with you and Jaime after he had found the little boy. You had been so sure you had JJ Maybank figured out, but you were seeing that maybe you had it all wrong. He was surprisingly sweet and good with kids, and that was doing things to you. Your heart skipped a beat whenever you would catch his eye, and you would quickly look away hoping he hadn’t noticed your staring.

“My break is almost over,” JJ told you regretfully as Jaime munched on one of the last fries left. “Thanks for keeping me company.”

“We have to leave?” Jaime asked with a sad look on his sweet face. “Can we see you again?”

“Yeah I gotta go back to work, but I’ll tell you what,” JJ crouched so he was eye level with Jaime, “I promise that we can hang out again soon. This time when I’m not working. You like surfing?”

“Um… I’ve never tried,” Jaime admitted shyly.

“Hey, then I’ll teach you! That sound good?”

Jaime’s eyes widened, and he practically launched himself at JJ before looking up at you with that puppy dog expression.

“Can I please go surfing with your friend?” he all but begged.

You laughed and shrugged. “I don’t see why not. It’ll give me a break from you giving me heart attacks all the time.”

Jaime let out a squeal and hugged JJ even tighter. JJ let out a quiet gasp and held back the tears that began to form. When was the last time he’d been hugged like this? He couldn’t remember. The little boy pulled back when he heard your brothers call out to you, and he ran over to tell them his exciting news. JJ cleared his throat as he got back up and brushed off his pants. You were giving him that look again, the one that made his ears burn.

“You… you’re something else, Maybank,” you told him before wrapping your arms around him. “Thank you.”

This time he couldn’t help the few tears that escaped him as he returned your hug. You were warm, and he thought he could stay like that his whole goddamn life. You gave him one last squeeze and stepped back, pretending not to notice when he quickly wiped at his cheeks.

“Um, you can ask Kie for my number or I can ask for yours. So you can tell me when you want to teach the little monster.”

“Actually, you, uh… I mean, if you want, you can come too,” he offered, feeling uncharacteristically shy with this shift in your relationship. “I mean, I’d… I’d like it if you came too.”

“Okay. I’ll be looking forward to your text, then.” You surprised him by leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. “See you around, JJ.”

Continue Reading Start from the beginning

taglist: @obxlife @infinityspaceuniverse @diverrdown @shawnssongs @kikifromtheblock @stargazingstarkey @scandalousfemale @pheyward @thatjohnd

#outer banks #outer banks imagine #outer banks x reader #outer banks netflix #obx #obx imagine #obx x reader #obx netflix #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fic

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jaspers-levis · 4 years

Text

Continuation Two: Dusk

TW: Self-image, allusion to eating disorders, abuse mention

PSA: The point of this story is not that the reader has value as a woman because of Paul’s attention. Everyone has value. Period. Size, shape, orientation, identification, race, religion, etc are all things that make us who we are but do not define our value as a human being. You don’t need a significant other to believe you have value before you suddenly have value. The point is, sometimes we as humans struggle to see the truth already in front of our own eyes. Our loved ones are there to remind us that no matter what the voices in your head say, you are perfect just the way you are.

Continuation Two: Dusk

Paul Lahote x female reader

“Ugh!” you grunted, your hand slipping from your waistband as you tried desperately to shimmy into a too-tight pair of shorts from last summer. The jean material would barely fit over your hips, shockingly snug despite the fact you were sure you hadn’t gained that much weight over the last year. You tugged one last time, only to hear the material rip. “Damn it!” Sighing, you slid the shorts down your legs and pulled them free, falling back onto the bed in defeat. It hadn’t been that long since you’d been able to fit into those shorts easily, and the size was already on the larger side in your mind. How could you possibly have gained so much weight in such a short time?

Nothing would fit you beside your largest pair of athletic shorts and even those were snug; you took a deep breath to hold back tears and failed. For years your ex had ridiculed you over your size until you obsessed over every calorie, every crumb on your plate. You’d prided yourself on dropping sizes every few months, until you’d gotten to your ‘goal size’. It was an incredibly unhealthy point in your life, both mentally and physically, but if it was possible for you to make your ex happy in some small way it meant one less way he could hurt you. Now it was a hard to break habit to value your appearance by the number on the tag, a habit you’d thought you’d dropped until now. Hot tears slipped down your cheeks and dripped into your hair, sticking it to your face.

Your phone buzzed beside your head, despairingly you smacked the covers until you found it.

hey babe, be home in a few. dont forget the bonfire 2nite!

You groaned, smacking your forehead lightly. The first bonfire of the summer with the entire pack celebrating the official start to the season was this evening; the weather was supposed to be warmer than it had been in the last few months so you’d pulled out your summer wardrobe in the hopes that everything still fit. This was the last pair of shorts you tried on and everything else was similarly too small… your heart sunk. You wanted to wear something cute to the bonfire, but nothing seemed to fit.

It normally wouldn’t be such a big deal, but Emily and Kim were both small and athletic and always wore clothes that highlighted their form. Quil’s new imprint Hannah was tall and slim, with a river of striking black hair and a fondness for crop tops and short shorts that showed off her endless legs. It felt like every other female you knew was fit and perfect--besides you. You knew it wasn’t a good idea to compare yourself to others but it was hard when you were constantly surrounded by supernaturally attractive men and their similarly attractive significant others. Why couldn’t you be slim and perfect too? You felt like a chubby little frog next to them…

“Babe, I’m home!” Paul called from the kitchen, the front screen door slapping shut behind him. Hastily you sat up and swiped at the embarrassing tears dripping down your cheeks but it was too late. “Honey, what’s wrong?” Paul was at your side in an instant, his warm hand sweeping your hair over your shoulder and resting against your neck.

“Nothing, it’s fine,” you muttered, turning your face away. “My dumb shorts don’t fit.”

“Oh,” you heard the frown in his voice and he picked up the offending garment from the floor. “These ones? Well baby, these are tiny! No wonder they don’t fit, they’re practically a children’s size.”

“But I used to fit in them just last summer!” you cried, turning to him and grabbing the shorts. “How did I get so fat??” You thrust yourself up from the bed and went to stand in front of the full length mirror. “I used to be so tiny, I never had a problem fitting into anything. Now I’m just a chunky little gremlin…”

“I’m sorry, what?” Paul asked incredulously, coming up behind you and yanking the shorts from your hands and chucking them forcefully into the corner of the bedroom. He slid his hands under your shirt and wrapped them around your waist. “Honey, no. For one, you’re tiny still, especially compared to me,” he chuckled and gently kissed your neck. “And secondly, who the fuck cares? We’ll buy new shorts.”

“It’s not that, I should be able to fit into them still! How could I have let myself gain so much weight?!” you sniffed again, glaring at your shape in the mirror and seeing every slice of pizza, every spoonful of ice cream, every piece of bread…

“Seriously? You’re not overweight!” he retorted, his dark eyebrows pushing together.

“Compared to Kim, and Hannah, and, and, and everyone else I am!” you sobbed, trying to pull away from him to hide your shame.

Angrily he spun you around and cupped your cheeks to look into your eyes. His hands trembled slightly, the only betrayal of his weakened control. “Y/N. You are NOT overweight. You are HEALTHY. You’ve gained weight because when I met you, all you had in your fridge was a bag of salad and a carton of eggs. Do you know how happy I am to see you fill out? Do you know how much it made me nervous that you would forget to eat for a day? I look at you and I see someone who is happy and healthy now. Every inch of you is perfect.”

Startled at the raw emotion in his voice, you hiccuped. Paul’s eyes were serious and dark in above his russet cheekbones, but not without love. Tenderly he wiped away tears with his thumbs. “I love you for better or for worse, no matter what you look like, no matter how much you weigh or what size you are, no matter what you do with your hair or if you wear makeup or not, or if you wear nice clothes or sweats,” he whispered, pressing his lips to yours in the barest imitation of a kiss. He pulled away and smirked suddenly. “But luckily, you’re exactly my type, and I think you’re hot as fuck.”

You giggled at that, leaning into his touch. “So you don’t think I’m fat?”

Paul rolled his eyes and pressed his face into your neck, nipping delicately at the sensitive skin there. “No, you’re delectable,” he growled, pulling the two of you back onto the bed with you on top and slipping his hands under the ragged t shirt you wore to caress your back. “And tempting,” he kissed your collarbone. “And perfect,” he pressed his lips to the hollow of your throat. Planting hot kisses across your skin, he began to lift your shirt, his eagerness abruptly making itself known against your stomach.

“Thank you,” you whispered shyly, ducking your head against his shoulder.

He growled softly and paused in his attempts to undress you. “For what?”

“For helping me remember my value, even when I struggle with it. I… haven’t always been good at remembering that my size shouldn’t matter.”

“I know, sweetheart,” he smoothed the hair over the back of your head.

“What do you mean, ‘you know’?” you leaned back and frowned.

“Honey, I’ve seen photos of you from the time that you were with your ex, and you’ve mentioned he’d abused you. It’s not hard to make the leap,” he pushed himself up on his elbows and swallowed a shudder. “I swear to everything that is holy, if I see that fuckwad ever again I will rip his fucking teeth out one by one and make him eat them like candy.”

“Okay, well we’re not going to let that happen, for legal reasons,” you laughed and smacked his chest.

“Mm, well, you better hope he doesn’t show up again because I can’t make any promises,” Paul shrugged unremorsefully, but calmed enough to stroke his fingers down your bare thighs straddling his waist. “All I can do for now is make sure you know how loved you are, how smart and funny and strong you are, and remind you that I love every piece and part of you just the way you are.”

Your heart squeezed in your chest, suddenly overfull of adoration for this fierce, wise cracking, temper-losing, enormous giant of a man who had a tenderness to him that belied everything his friends and family knew about him. Looking down at him, all you saw was the love in his eyes, the truth in everything he said. Paul had fought hard and earned every bit of the trust you placed in him, trust you had always had difficulty in placing in another person. While you believed in the imprinting mechanics having seen it first hand, it had taken you months to trust Paul in spite of your supernatural bond. Now, for the first time, you felt yourself truly letting your guard down, having shared your last and most shameful weakness. And he loved you, despite that. “I love you so much,” you smiled shyly and bent to kiss him lightly.

“I love you more, honey,” he returned your smile before deepening the kiss into something smoldering and languorous. Paul kissed you like it was the first time, the last time, and every other time in between, worshipping every inch of your skin with his lips and hands until you were burning up with desire. No matter that you didn't have anything to wear to the bonfire, it was likely you wouldn’t make it there before dusk anyways...

#paul lahote #paul lahote imagine #twilight fan fiction #twilight #twilight fanfiction #Twilight wolf pack #werewolves #twilight wolf #twilight wolves

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lu-undy · 4 years

Note

Another sniperspy hc! Hope you lije this one too! (if u wanna write it ofc dont wanna pressure u!). Spy has anxiety, a little, but still has it; and it mostly shows when he is touchstarved. He gets nervous and a little overwhelmed but he hides it trying to play it cool. He stays in his room in the ceasefires all alone but that just makes things worse. He needs cuddles, but he'll neer admit it, never asks for them. And it gets worse. And Spy breaks, just a little, but Snipes notices and helps❤️🐑

Here we go! Sorry about the delay, I have to juggle with work and my long fic at the same time. I hope you’ll like it :)

"Oh, Scout, please, go fuck yourself."

The young man insisted.

"Spy, c'mon man, you-"

"I said: go fuck yourself."

"You can't just say that?!"

Spy was in his room. All the lights were off, only the dancing flames of the fireplace lit his smoking room. The Frenchman was sitting on his armchair, a glass of wine in his hand and an annoyed look on his face.

"Scout if you stand behind my door one more second, I will push every single blade I have into you, in places where you couldn't possibly pull them out."

He answered, his teeth gritted and his jaw clenched angrily.

"Jeez, fine…!"

The Frenchman was pissed off. He had played his part very poorly that day and even though his colleagues respected him enough to not mention it, he could see it in their eyes. He had disappointed them, and he could hardly look at himself in the mirror for it.

There was one pair of eyes that was stuck in his mind. Those lagoon blue eyes had dwelled on him for the entire duration of his dinner, they had spoken louder thatn any voice.

What Spy needed was red wine, a strong, almost bitter château. Ah, some cheap Spanish one would do. There were very few occasions the Frenchman would betray his country: when he needed the alcohol to sting his soul from the inside was one of them. He just needed something to hurt him physically, something that transferred the pain from his soul to somewhere he could point at, on his body.

Spy emptied the glass and poured more, grunting. The strong sourness hurt the back of his throat. Good. He threw his gloves away and undid his tie. It flew straight to the floor. He had removed his jacket and his vest and was now undoing the first couple of buttons on his shirt.

The Frenchman was sitting on the edge of his armchair, his elbows planted on his thighs and his head hanging low. He wasn't proud of himself and he didn't have the energy to pretend that he was in front of his colleagues, so his isolation in the deafening silence and darkness of his lonely room was the best course of action.

He put a hand on his face and let it sink from his brow down to his chin. A knock interrupted him.

"Scout, no respawn will fix what I am about to do to you." He said angrily.

"It's not Scout." A muffled voice answered across the door.

"Leave me alone." He answered, as if he didn't know who it was, as if he hadn't recognised that voice.

"C'mon, open the door."

"Non, go away."

"I won't."

Spy heard a thud and rolled his eyes. He knew the man behind that door could be awfully patient. He could picture him, sat down on the Frenchman's doormat, his back against the wall. That was the thud, he had dropped himself on the other side of the door with the knife symbol. And Spy knew he could wait there for hours.

"I am not up for games. Go back to your van."

"Neither am I. I didn't come to play anythin' with you."

Silence fell. Spy wondered while his visitor pulled his hat in front of his face to block the light from the corridor and rest his eyes more comfortably. He had all his time. He knew his own patience could match Spy's ego. So he waited, sat there, like a homeless man would find shelter under the front facade of a shop when it rains. He waited, his eyes closed and his hat on his eyes.

The man with the absurdly long legs let them flow in front of him. He didn't know how long he had been waiting but the base had gone totally silent. The light in the corridor had switched off a long time ago now.

Inside the room, the Frenchman had stopped drinking since his visitor had sat there.

Spy grumbled and stood up. He went to the door, making sure that his footsteps could be heard. The visitor opened his eyes and unstuck his back from the door. The footsteps stopped. There was a moment of hesitation before the doorknob twisted and the door opened.

Spy looked down.

"Come in. Don't stay sat there."

The man under the hat stood up and straightened his back before entering. Spy quickly shut the door after him.

"What do you want?" The Frenchman asked.

"To not let you get pissed alone. And on cheap wine at that…"

Sniper had gone next to the sofa and took the bottle of wine in his hand to read the label. The Frenchman almost regretted the wine tasting lessons to his colleague.

"This is shite wine, Spy, what's your problem?"

Spy sat on the sofa.

"None of your concern."

Sniper sat down next to him.

"Yeah, it's none of anyone's business but yours, you're right. So what is it?"

The Frenchman put his fingers on his temples. Now that they were both facing the flames, Sniper could see him better. He looked disheveled, his shirt open, without a tie and a miserable look on his face. Had it not been for the taylor-made shirt and trousers, the Australian would have looked better dressed.

"I know you did shit today. And I also know it doesn't look like you. You're better than that, I know it and you do too. So what's special about today?"

The Frenchman sighed.

"Again, none of your concern."

"Is it your birthday or somethin'?"

Spy shot him a murderous glance. He was nowhere near the point where he could appreciate any joke. His icy blue eyes split the dark room sharply, like the sheen of the short blades he liked so much.

"You don't want to say, eh?"

"Non, I don't."

"So why did you let me in?"

"To not let you rot on my doormat."

"Pfff, even Scout could lie better than that." Sniper answered and it did strike a nerve. The Frenchman clenched his jaw.

"If you didn't let me in to talk, it's cause you need somethin' else."

Sniper stood up and headed to the small kitchen area in his colleague's flat.

"Now, I'm gonna make us some herbal tea. It won't make you talk but it'll help your nerves."

The Australian kept the lights off. He filled a kettle with water and put in on the stove to heat up. When the water boiled, he poured it in 2 mugs and took 2 tea bags out of his pocket. Spy's eyebrows jumped. Those teabags showed that Sniper had prepared himself and hadn't come by chance or politeness. His mind was set to help the bitter Frenchman.

A minute later, he brought the two mugs. He handed one to his colleague and that's when he realised that Spy wasn't wearing his gloves. Sniper's brow furrowed for a short instant. Observant as he was, Spy saw it.

They both took a sip.

"Something's the matter, Sniper?"

"Well that's cheeky. You're the one who has a problem obviously and you ask me if something's the matter?"

"You frowned. I'm just curious."

"I'll tell you what made me frown if you tell me what's pissin' you off like that."

Spy sighed.

"Today is not a good day for personal reasons." He answered.

"That doesn't tell me anythin', Spook."

"Well, too bad, I will not disclose more of it."

And silence fell again, that was only interrupted by their sips. But they soon finished their drink. Sniper leaned back on the sofa.

"So that's what you do when you're pissed off? Get drunk on shit wine, alone, in the dark?"

Spy didn't want to react but of course it affected him. He knew he looked miserable and hearing it being said aloud did not help. Sniper sat up and put his hand on Spy's thigh, right above his knee.

"You're not wearin' yer gloves. That's why I frowned."

The Frenchman double-checked and yes indeed. He didn't even think about his gloves when he opened the door. It hurt him even more.

Sniper took Spy's hand in his and opened its palm.

"Bushman!"

"Oh c'mon, it's only yer hand! I just want to see it better."

He tilted it such that he could see it well.

"Y'know I can read the lines there. Wanna know what they say?"

The Frenchman didn't answer.

"Well, they say that it doesn't matter if you don't tell me what your problem is."

Sniper moved closer to his friend.

"You need someone to help, because you're not making it out of this on yer own. And shit alcohol won't do either."

Spy raised his eyes to finally look at his colleague with something else in his eyes than blind rage. The way that Sniper traced the lines on his hand, how he delicately handle his palm, it all surprised him. The man lived in a van, in the most rustic way, yet he was holding his hand like he would a delicate flower. The tickling of his index tracing the lines through Spy's palm was almost poetic.

The Frenchman hid his face with his other hand.

"Hey…"

Sniper got even closer. Now their thighs were touching and Spy felt an arm wrap around his back, pulling him to his friend. Without a second thought, he bent on his side and leaned on Sniper's side, his head below the Australian's chin, closing his eyes.

The marksman got surprised by the suddenness but didn't question it and hugged his friend, lacing his other arm on his left shoulder.

"I don't care why you're annoyed. I just want it to stop. No one wants to see you like that. I watched you during dinner. You were fumin' with rage and you didn't eat much. 's not good."

The vibrations of Sniper's voice travelled through the Frenchman and made his insides relax. There was something about his voice and the embrace. Spy needed more of it. He wrapped his arms around Sniper and buried his head deeper in his friend's chest. He wanted to say something, anything! But the words failed him.

"So that's what you needed all along? A good hug?"

Of course, Spy stayed mute. Was his clinging to his friend's polo shirt not enough of an answer?

But suddenly Spy felt Sniper moving, pulling him. His eyes snapped open as he followed his friend's movements, not really understanding what he was doing. Sniper kept him close all along and soon stopped moving, when he was laying on his back, on the sofa, his feet dangling off of it. Spy was on top of him, his arms still around Sniper's sides and his head below his chin. That way, the Australian couldn't see how hard he was frowning…

The Frenchman would never admit how much he loved the embrace. And Sniper's hand brushing his back and his other one behind his head... Non, Sniper had understood what Spy needed and wordlessly obliged, without the grumpy one even having to ask.

There was a blanket on the nearby armchair. The Australian extended his arm and took it. The next thing Spy knew, he was sandwiched between the softness of the duvet and the warmth of Sniper's body.

He squeezed Sniper tighter for an instant.

"You're welcome. Now, try and get some sleep, will ya?"

Spy raised his head of his friend's chest and looked him in the eye.

"Merci." [Thank you.]

Sniper was looking at him with a smile. He cupped Spy's head and left a silent kiss on his forehead, on the fabric of the mask. Spy's eyes opened wide. With one hand he swiftly removed the mask and threw it away, and ignoring Sniper's total shock, he looked up at him and asked him with his eyes…

The Australian took a second to process what had just happened and he devoured his friend's face with his eyes. He put his palms on the Frenchman's naked cheeks and slid his fingers up through his hair. Spy closed his eyes, focusing on the touch on his face. He was really just thanking that one man whose patience was infinite with him.

Sniper pulled him and kissed, not his forehead.

#tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #sniperspy #sniperxspy

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mousehole5000 · 3 years

Text

wow i made this draft on november 1st i really took a break from this huh anyway tgcf chapters 121 - 142

i realize now this coffin scene was inevitable. feel kinda weird about hua cheng back and forth from Teen to Big Man but it is very funny that theyre having their “dude dont look at my boner” moment while in the jaws of a water dragon

pei ming: why didnt you guys make a bigger coffin so you didnt have to squish together like that? xie lian: haha yep!! anyways what brings you here?

“In the grand, spacious centre of the entrance hall sat a person. And this person, dressed in all black, its face snow-white—was a corpse! Instantly Xie Lian shut the doors soundly.” - king of minding his own business.

okay this is where i stopped putting notes here for a while but i did save some in my e-reader so here’s some of the highlights

“Guzi used to have a good sleeping form, but perhaps with his cheap dad’s bad influence, now he was also spread out on top of Qi Rong’s stomach like a dead fish. Lang Ying himself was curled neatly in the corner, and was covered by a few shirts. Xie Lian lifted the blanket covering Qi Rong, suppressed the urge to smother his face, and covered the two small children.” - xie lian funny moments. also it would be really funny if qi rong redeems himself by learning love through these misfit chiildren and it might actually endear me to him but i hope that doesnt happen

Every heavenly official was yelling, and even Ling Wen was throwing a fit. “DON’T THROW EVERY BIT OF USELESS INFORMATION MY WAY, HOW MUCH DO YOU THINK I HAVE TO GO THROUGH EVERY DAY? DON’T YOU ALL KNOW TO USE YOUR BRAINS A LITTLE BEFORE ASKING ME?!” - ling wen marry me right now

“An expression like “seen a ghost” that only mortals experienced was now showing on his face for the first time. Shi Wudu’s pupils shrank to the smallest they could, and he blurted, “You’re still alive?!” “I’m dead!” He Xuan said coldly.” - okay everythings going tits up rn but i did laugh

i did see spoilers re: ming yi/he xuan reveal + shi wudu’s fate beforehand so i dont have a genuine reaction other than oh shit

“He slowly enunciated each word. “I won’t touch your fate. But, here in this place, chop off your brother’s head for me.” CLANG! He threw a rusty blade onto the ground. Shi Qingxuan stared at that blade, his eyes wide. He Xuan continued, “Then, never show yourself before me again, and I will pretend you’ve never existed in this world.” - okay idk what else is going to happen but rn im concerned that this is like the 2nd biggest ship. i guess we’ll see?? i mean i am really curious whats going to happen to them. shi qingxuan keeps calling he xuan “ming-xiong” and i... sad

shi wudu im not really invested in you as a character but these next two bits... interesting

“If I don’t die but have nothing, then that’s truly a fate worse than death. If I’m not the Water God, I can’t take care of you. I won’t even be able to protect myself. I’m scared that we won’t even last two days…TAKE IT!” - damn. something about the wealthy losing everything and not knowing how to live without it bc thats their entire life and identity

“EVERYTHING I HAVE TODAY, I FOUGHT FOR MYSELF. I WILL FIGHT FOR WHAT I DON’T HAVE. I WILL CHANGE FATE I DON’T POSSESS. MY FATE IS UP TO ME AND NOT THE HEAVENS!” - okay so the whole committing spiritual fraud by tormenting a man and his family to get your brother a cushy title thing aside this was kind of badass. heretical? possibly. but still. also is he intentionally riling up he xuan so sqx doesnt have to kill him? if so damn...

also okay as long as im here im just gonna say it. the choice that he xuan gives shi qingxuan is fucking brutal but i actually think its probably as fair as it could be. sqx didnt know about or participate in what happened to hx but they did benefit from it greatly while hx lost EVERYTHING and i can understand he xuan’s thinking of “if you really feel bad for what happened to me then you have to make a sacrifice and understand the suffering and this is as clean as its going to get” and theres a bit where sqx is trying to beg for mercy but cant get the words out which im guessing is bc theres no good argument!! what happened was fucked up!!

“When Pei Ming saw that reinforcements had arrived, he didn’t appear particularly delighted; instead he threw the sword into the ground, then rubbed his nose and said, sounding grim, “You all just had to come just as I finished making these, what the heck.” - pei ming making coffins chopping down trees with his sword i love it #wastehistime2k17

“Xie Lian brought that basket of eggs along, and gave them away as souvenirs from the mortal realm. Many who received the eggs were overjoyed; some deciding to eat it along with their own blood, and some proclaiming they would hatch an eight-foot monster.” - GHOST CITY GHOST CITY

“Placing the brush down, he blew lightly at the ink and smiled. “If I like something, then my heart will not have room for any other, and I’ll always treasure it. A thousand times, a million times, no matter how many years, this will not change. This poem is the same." - thats nice and all but king... get therapy. i actually have further thoughts but tbh i dont want to put them into words bc they are simply too personal! moving on

didnt take any notes but somewhere in here was the bit with mount tong’lu opening and hua cheng losing it and kind of um. hm. that scene. thats another trope i really hate tbh i dont care for it as a way of including physical intimacy between characters and idk if it really ever adds anything but whatever moving on

The Half-Maquillage Woman - kind of interesting monster idea bc women and aging…. yeah. however i think this would be a lot stronger if there were a) more girls and this was b) discussed or illustrated at all prior to this moment. still interesting that its included knowing the author is a woman tho and there’s been comments on how ling wen is perceived vs pei ming. this book does keep giving me hope for interesting female character arcs i really want it to deliver something

quan yizhen..... i get u

lmao i have a note on a bit with lang ying that says “please dont be hc in disguise” and..... my clown nose was on but at least i knew that. for real this is bothering me how much he’s just. always. there. i know he’s a lead but we didn’t really need him around for a lot of this. oh well. okay now to my current notes

“Yet it was precisely because it wasn’t cooked that it had to be eaten quickly. Once Xie Lian cooked it, it wouldn’t be edible anymore” - fucking fantastic

“Xie Lian hugged his belly. “Of course! Only after having met you did I rediscover that it’s such a simple thing to be happy, hahaha…” Hearing this, Hua Cheng blinked. Xie Lian’s laughter quieted a bit, realizing what he just said was a little too revealing.” - okay i know i said what i said about being tired of hua cheng being everywhere but... the line…. the fact that theyre laughing together…. :pleading:

“It’s not,” Ling Wen said. “At least, I believe, there will definitely not be another in history who can create a dish called ‘Incorruptible Chastity Meatballs’” - and truer words were never spoken

“I, DO NOT WORSHIP GODS. “I, AM GOD!” - this was every bit as badass as i hoped but no one told me it was immediately followed up by a little bit of the ol dinner theater fjalkdsfjsd. also puqi shrine noooooooooo

“Xie Lian sighed as he thought, “Qi Rong has taken Guzi away, who knows if the poor child was eaten or abandoned. Wind Master...... ..... who knows if Black Water took him away. Pray they’re both safe.” yeah hey are we going to fucknig. find out what happened to the child???

and yeah i dooooont really care for the age regression? thing thats going on. i just dont like that trope tbh. but tiny hua cheng whipping out his fat ghost king wallet in the store was funny tho. it is really funny that hualian are just like wandering around some random towns while the heavens are in an uproar. i guess theres not much else to do but its funny

“Me too, me too. You all know of my shixiong, right? Talented, with an infinite future! He only had one small vice: he loved playing women. Decades ago, a little prostitute ghost seduced my shixiong and sucked him dry into human jerky, and that Hua, Hua, Hua, that ghost king dared shelter her.” - yes omg give me the forbidden hua cheng lore i love this for him for real it goes along nicely with xie lian’s principles about giving another cup. god i love shared values

“Hua Cheng poked again, and a small hole appeared on the wall, as if the wall was made of tofu.” - how’d he do that. why is this a ghost king power. its useful tho

*me shaking qi rong when he pops up* WHERE IS THE CHILD

mu qing fu yao is here okay im happy now. once again no one has a good grasp on their secret identity and i love that. this inn has descended into chaos and im delighted and im glad lan chang is back

“The good ol’ kitchen was suddenly squished and crowded, loud and noisy. Fu Yao was chasing that fetus spirit leaping up and down, Lan Chang was chasing after Fu Yao like she had gone mad. Half of Qi Rong’s face changed shape by the way Xie Lian was pressing him down on the chopping board, his back turning into a target for those yellow talismans Fu Yao hurled while being observed by a crowd, and Lan Chang would step on him from time to time.” - this is pure chaos. i love that mu qing was in that room when the mob checked and he didnt say a word didnt open the door just sent out a talisman as a warning. king your disguise is transparent

“Xie Lian remembered the way Feng Xin laughed until he was hoarse when he first heard that verbal password all those years back, and couldn’t help but feel nostalgic, even though it wasn’t the right time.” - awwwww omg im emotional about this... faithful friend feng xin laughing at xie lian’s stupid joke password and remembering it!!! ;_;

“They have, but they’re not effective,” Feng Xin said. “Usually they’re the most diligent in scorning the Palace of Ling Wen, like they could do the job way better if they had the position. Now that we need them to take up the task, not a single one can do even half of what she does.” - typical... typical typical typical

also emotional about the fact that feng xin contacted xie lian at all.....

also!! emotional about lan chang as a mom and wanting to help out sick lil guzi.....

xie lian forcing “fu yao” to let him help “his general” is making me.... what is friendship if not playing along with your buddies little shenanigans while also making them accept your help

“Someone like Mu Qing, even though he’s narrow-minded, petty, sensitive and skeptical, has a bad personality, constantly guessing, doesn’t say nice things, likes to nag, always offending people and has a lot of people who dislike him, has no friends, can remember small, unimportant details for a long period of time…” ”Xie Lian went on in one breath with a straight face, but in the end he concluded with, “...But I’ve known him since we were kids, after all, he’s still got principles.” - XIE LIAN PLEASE AFJDLKSFJDL omg ive seen this quote before but i figured he was talking to someone else not actually to mu qing himself fgjasdkfjsl. god thats amazing. hey im gonna help you out because i care but i will roast you first <3

waaaaaait so is lan chang aka jian lan that girl from book 2 we took a page to talk about and then disappeared? that has to be it why else would we have stopped to discuss her

“Jian Lan spat on his face, then choking his neck, she slapped him twice again. “WHAT SHITTY SUPREME! YOU SURE KNOW HOW TO BLOW YOURSELF UP! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, THINK YOU’RE EVEN WORTH TO BE THOUGHT OF AS EQUALS WITH THE OTHER THREE SUPREMES? WHAT ARE YOU EVEN GOOD AT? YOUR THICK SKIN? OF COURSE I DARE HIT YOU!” - oh this feels so good i cant lie. YES GET HIM!! CHOMPING AND VIOLENCE YES!!!!

okay this description of cuocuo.... im... that sure the hell is a creature

this book is so entertaining bc i already saw spoilers for the feng xin/jian lan/cuo cuo reveal and yet i could never have predicted the circumstances that brought it about. imagine being feng xin. the heavens are in an uproar and your only friend/enemy has been jailed for possible fetus spirit-related crimes but he escapes along with this female ghost who keeps causing problems. you figure “fuck it lets see if dianxia kept his old phone number” and he has but then he hangs up on you. you’ve got fuckall else to do so you go find him. mu qing is there but he’s in his disguise the two of you were using so you could watch over his highness while staying aloof. you think you see hua cheng only he’s a chiild for some goddamn reason but who knows at this point. the female ghost is also there and theres a fetus spirit climbing trees and biting your arrows in half. you realize the female ghost is your ex and the little demon is your son. it bites you. what do you do

amazing that despite everything going on everyone is still playing along with the “fu yao” persona when it would probably be easier to drop pretenses at this point. then again tbh if i could explain my actions to my friends while pretending to be a third party.... i probably would so.. carry on

“With all his devotees gone, only Feng Xin still treated him like the Flower-Crowned Martial God and His Highness the Crown Prince. ” “...his protection charms were all seen as trash. However, Feng Xin was still determined and tireless in handing them out; telling Xie Lian, look, you still have devotees.” “After all, he was the darling of the heavens since birth, high and mighty. Feng Xin so naturally spun around him like he was the world, so how could he possibly have his own life, his own heart” “Whether or not that fetus spirit was Feng Xin’s son, if it was that period of poverty that made Feng Xin lose the girl he loved, Xie Lian wouldn’t be able to forgive himself no matter what." ohhhh my god this relationship i. im...

oh my god i still have 30 more chapters until book 4............ its naptime now i think

#tgcf liveblog #so close and yet so far......#i keep hearing tell of this fabled book 4 i must press onwards......#but now im sleepy.....#mouse mumbles

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star-and-the-motherverse · 3 years

Text

Chapter 3 - Earth and the Lost Soul

The Butterfly Who Lost Her Wings

Word Count: 3981 | AO3 Mirror | Previous | Next

Summary: Marco returns to Earth and sets out to right a wrong.

✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ:* ☾ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

A rift in space opened up in the Diaz family’s living room. Marco emerged from it a second later, dimensional scissors in hand. He was exactly where he had intended to land, in the middle of his living room. But only when the portal had disappeared did he realize that he hadn’t fully thought that decision through.

His mother, Angie, immediately noticed his arrival from her standing place in the kitchen. “Marco, you’re home!”

A cold wave of dread washed over him as he caught sight of his mother’s unknowing smile. She threw her arms around him in a hug, but he was completely lost in his thoughts, dismayed by his realization. I’m going to have to be the one to break the news to everyone in Echo Creek…

“Welcome home.”

“Hi, mom.” Marco tried to politely excuse himself to his room, but Angie wasn’t about to let him go so easily.

“Did you get everything figured out with Star?” she asked, letting up on her grasp. “I know she didn’t leave on the best terms.”

He turned around slowly, opting to stare at the wall behind her instead of making eye contact. “Actually… can we talk about it later? I’m really tired.”

Unfortunately, Angie was smarter than that. “Is everything alright?”

“I’m tired,” he repeated. “I’m really, really tired.”

“Marco?” She could only repeat her son’s name as he turned his back and ascended the stairs without responding further. “Marco!”

He shut his bedroom door behind him, trying to listen through the door. When he was certain that his mother hadn’t followed him in an effort to demand answers, he slid down the wall to a seated position on the floor and sighed heavily, his exhaustion finally starting to catch up with him.

His phone in is pocket was being bombarded by incoming messages, now that he’d returned to a place with cell service. He remained there on the floor for several moments before he was able to convince himself to look through his notifications. There were a lot of unread messages from his friends, mostly Jackie. As he was attempting to read through them, he was bombarded by several new texts from Janna.

Janna: yo diaz

are u home yet?

u better answer me

Because of course Janna somehow knew that he was back on Earth. He supposed it really wasn’t all that surprising, once he thought about it. I’m not sure if I’m in the right headspace to put up with this right now…

Marco: Yeah I am, how did you know that?

Janna: not important

ur gf has been harassing me bc u werent responding

next time maybe give some notice before u disappear?

Guilt flooded over him. She had every right to be upset with him, as far as he was concerned. Everyone did. He was the one who left without notice, and aside from a parting message to Jackie—apparently she had still tried to contact him anyways—no one else in his immediate friend group had known where he was.

Marco: I’m really sorry

I didn’t mean to be gone as long as I was

Janna: save your sorries for your gf dude

u cant just disappear for a week w/o warning and pretend nothings changed. shes got every right to be mad if she is

i kinda do too, lucky for u im not the grudge holding type

did star come back with u or is she like staying on mewni or whatever

Marco collapsed backwards onto his bed, defeated. His phone fell out of his hand, currently of little concern to him, now that he was so lost in his thoughts. There’s just no escaping this, is there? Everything had always been about Star, and everything still was about Star. Just as suddenly as she had crashed into his life, she was gone, and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it. He couldn’t stop thinking about her, about how the last thing she’d thought to do before disappearing in that explosion was to apologize.

A piece of his world had went with her, and he couldn’t help but feel that he was somehow responsible. There had to have been warning signs, right? Should he have done something differently, or done something sooner? “I hate this,” he murmured aloud, burying his face in his hands. “I hate this…”

Star probably hates this, too, he admitted inwardly. She always did everything in her power to be a positive force in people’s lives. The last thing she’d want is for everyone who cared about her to be moping around. I really hope she knew what she was getting herself into…

He finally spared another glance at his phone.

Janna: ???

Marco: Sorry

I don’t know if I want to talk about it right now, if that’s ok

Janna: yeah sure

if things are awkward between u two now thats ur business, not mine

jackie isnt mad at you fr that btw

Marco: For what?

Janna: uh

at the party?

Oh, right, Marco grimaced. Just before she left for Mewni—and subsequently vanished—Star had confessed her feelings for him in front of everyone at their end-of-the-school-year celebration. Even now, he still couldn’t help but hold some resentment towards her for how hasty that decision of hers had been, especially when she knew he was dating Jackie.

It was almost like she knew that was the last time she’d ever see him, and that her true feelings had been a weight on her chest that she could no longer bear to keep bottled up.

And yet, at the same time, his resentment felt unfair. He had no way of knowing when these feelings of hers had actually emerged, but Star never stopped trying to help him get Jackie’s attention. Even once they were finally dating, Star still went out of her way to include both of them in her lives however she could. As much heartache as it likely caused her, she must have valued their friendship over everything else, if she was able to force herself to put up with it for such a long time.

Conflicted feelings about Star aside, he still had overwhelmingly negative memories associated with that party. He preferred to forget about it where possible.

Marco: Gee, thanks for that, Janna

I’d almost forced that party out of my recent memory, but now it’s back.

Janna: sorry lol

Marco: Why would Jackie be mad at me about that? Star having feelings for me doesn’t change anything

Just wondering why you think that

Janna: i dont, im just repeating what she told me

and she told me she wasnt mad at u, sooo

i dont think shes mad at all tbh? that was a week ago anyways

go talk to her urself dude, im no therapist

Marco: Alright

Thanks, Janna

Janna: no prob

Though he did feel a bit guilty for withholding the truth of the situation from Janna, he swore to himself that he’d be honest about what really happened as soon as he felt able to. Janna was a mixed bag, and even though they were friends—at least, I think we’re friends?—he had no idea how she was going to take the information. He wanted to give himself time to come to terms with it all before trying to explain it to his and Star’s friends.

He had some things he needed to take care of, first. There was someone that he needed to apologize to, more than anything. Hopefully she was home.

His door creaked open, and he slowly made his way back down the staircase. His mother looked up from the book she was reading on the couch, her eyes lighting up with concern. “Marco?”

“I’m gonna go see Jackie,” he said quietly.

“Okay…that’s okay.” Angie stood up and crossed the room to stand in front of him cautiously. “Just… if you need to talk, I’m here for you, sweetie.” She extended her arms in an offering for a hug.

“I know.” He accepted her gesture and rested his head on her shoulder. “I just need to talk to her first.”

He headed out to the garage. It didn’t take long for him to wheel his bike out of the garage and suit up. He never really felt like taking his bike out was all that notable. Nothing would compare to when he tried to teach Star a couple months back, but she—

No, stop it, he told himself, shaking his head as if it would help unscramble his thoughts in any way. Stop thinking about her.

He was sure that the last thing Jackie needed was for him to suddenly show up on her doorstep in tears, especially when he had already done such a terrible job of communicating with her during his impromptu trip to Mewni. His only message to her about the entire situation had been incredibly brief.

Marco: I’m going to Mewni to make sure Star is okay. It sounds like something bad is about to go down there. I’ll be back soon, I promise. Love you

If he could go back in time a week, he would have done a better job of explaining himself. But it’s too late to worry about it now. I just need to focus on the present.

Once he’d shut the garage behind him, he headed off in the direction of Jackie’s house. His gaze rarely lifted from the street, and he couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact with any neighbors that he passed, out of fear of encountering someone who’d ask questions or demand answers.

It almost felt like some of the color in his life had been leeched away. The only thing that didn’t look any more faded to him was the moon, which was painted a vibrant and shadowy red, slowly climbing its way out of the magenta-colored morning sky—wait, what?

Marco rubbed his eyes fervently in an effort to snap himself out of it, but it didn’t work. No, his fears were completely correct, and he found himself staring up at the Blood Moon, hovering behind the clouds. It wouldn’t be visible for much longer before it sank behind the trees, but the fact of the matter was that it was here. It was still here, lingering in the background like a silent menace. A shudder ran up his spine as he watched it, unable to look away.

The front wheel of his bike suddenly collided forcefully with the curb, threatening to launch him over the handlebars. Miraculously, he managed to plant a foot on the ground to prevent himself from landing in a heap. He let out a trembling exhale as he stared up at it with an intense gaze.

Okay. Why it’s here isn’t important. You’re here to see Jackie, he repeated in his mind, over and over in the hopes that it would stick. She’s worried about you. You haven’t spoken to her in a week. You need to apologize.

With one last fleeting glance at the moon, he backed his bike away from the curb and continued down the road towards Jackie’s house.

✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ:* ♦ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

“King River has returned.”

Moon’s gaze snapped up from the book on dimensional travel she had been scouring through. Even if she had publicly said that returning Star wasn’t first on her list of priorities, that didn’t mean that she was about to drop all of her efforts. As she viewed it, her status as as queen was an entirely different person from herself. Queen Butterfly was the one who would look after the kingdom, and Moon was going to find a way to contact her daughter. But hearing the news of her husband’s return reminded her that this situation was far too great in scale to look at it in such a black and white way.

“Is he alright?” she demanded, standing up.

The guard nodded. “He appears to be, yes.”

Moon let out a breath that she hadn’t realized she’d been holding in. “Thank goodness…”

She left her notes behind and quickly followed after the guard. It was a slightly unusual scene that she walked into, as there were several large eagles perched around the foyer. But her husband was there, too, and that was all that mattered to her in that moment.

“Moon-pie!” he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up at the sight of her. Their common formalities were forgotten as both of them rushed towards each other and met with a tight hug in the center of the room. “I’m so glad that you’ve returned safely.”

“And I you,” Moon murmured, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I didn’t know how much more of this I could take...”

He pulled back from the hug to hold her hands instead. “You know, you really had me worried, leaving so suddenly!”

“I’m so sorry,” she apologized.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, because I do! But if you and Star had to leave so quickly, it must have been serious...”

She’d sworn to herself that she wouldn’t cry, but her composure was betraying her. “I’m so sorry,” she repeated, her voice choking up on the last syllable.

River frowned in concern. “Did something happen?”

“I-I tried— but I didn’t— Star, s-she— I couldn’t...” River brought a hand up to cup her cheek, and she met his gaze with sad, watery eyes.

“Moon-pie?”

She lurched forwards and buried her face in his shoulder, holding him close as tears began to flow freely.

The few knights that were left in the room lowered their heads and excused themselves from the room, granting them both some privacy.

✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ:* ☾ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

After a very brief internal pep talk, Marco was finally able to convince himself to knock on Jackie’s door. As anxious as he was to see her, he tried to focus on the floor as he waited, in the hopes of not overthinking anything.

When the door finally opened and he was face to face with her for the first time in an incredibly long week, he felt a grin take shape on his face. “Hey, Jackie—“

“Marco!” She darted forwards and caught him in a tight hug. “God, I was so worried about you, doofus!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m the worst.”

“No you’re not,“ she argued, holding him tighter. “I saw your message… but I sort of hoped you brought your phone anyways, just in case.”

“I can’t exactly get cell service on Mewni. Earth phones don’t work there,” he reminded her, chuckling halfheartedly. She laughed too, and it managed to brighten his smile a little. There was something comforting and familiar about hearing her laugh.

“I know! I know, it’s just… you left without much of a warning at all. First Star, and then you… you guys really scared all of us.”

“I’m really sorry. I should’ve talked to you first. I didn’t mean to make you worry so much.”

“It’s okay, Marco. I know you didn’t mean to.”

A beat of silence passed as he tried to think of what to say and she patiently waited. Where do I even start?

“Do you think we can go sit down and talk about everything? It’s… a long story.”

“Yeah, of course!” She nodded and beckoned him through the door. “Come on in.”

He followed her upstairs—after a brief hello to her parents—and took a seat in her desk chair. She sat down criss-crossed on the foot of her bed and looked at him expectantly.

Jackie was the first one that dared to break the temporary pause. Her voice was cautious. “I take it that something bad happened?”

Marco was surprised by her forwardness. “W-what?”

“I can tell you have bad news, Marco. Well, either that, or something exhausting happened. I can see it in your face.”

“Oh, uh... yeah, your first guess was pretty on point.”

Jackie frowned sympathetically. “I may not know much about this Mewni stuff, but hey, I’m probably easier to vent at than a brick wall, right?” She leaned forwards and put her hands in her lap. “So lay it on me.”

“...How much do you want to hear?”

“Tell me as little or as much as you want to. If it’ll help you feel better, I want to hear it.”

But there’s so much that’s happened! “Gosh, where do I start?”

“The beginning, maybe?”

Marco nodded, and, taking a deep breath to try and calm himself, he began his story.

“Well... there’s always been a bunch of monsters from Mewni that kept coming after Star. Their leader was named Ludo. He wanted her wand, but him and his lackeys are pretty incompetent, so they never managed to take it. Not until this guy named Toffee came along.”

“Toffee? That’s a weird name…”

“Yeah, I don’t really understand Mewni’s naming conventions, either,” he laughed. “Maybe it’s a normal name there. I mean, to be fair, most of Star’s family is named after celestial bodies, so it’s probably not that weird.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s fair.”

“Anyways, Toffee kind of showed up out of nowhere, and we could tell that this was a lot more serious than what we were used to with Ludo.”

“You didn’t ask anyone for help?”

“Star’s not exactly the type to ask her parents for help, so no, we just kind of dealt with it ourselves.”

Jackie pursed her lip. “That sounds like a really bad idea.”

“In hindsight, yeah, definitely. We had no idea who this guy was.” Queen Butterfly made it sound like he’s pretty infamous, he remembered, silently wishing he had asked for more information on Toffee when he had the chance. “He’s the only one who ever managed to take the wand. He kidnapped me, and then he tricked Star into—“

“Excuse me?!” She interrupted, somewhat outraged. “You got— you can’t just gloss over that!”

“But this isn’t about me!” Marco protested. “I’m perfectly fine now, so it’s no big deal.”

“If you’re that calm about literally getting kidnapped, I’m not sure how comfortable I am with you going to Mewni all the time...”

“It’s not a regular thing, I promise!”

“Okay, okay,” she sighed in defeat. “Fine. What happened there? Besides the whole hostage-taking thing.”

“He used me as blackmail to make Star destroy the wand.”

“I thought you said he wanted to take it?”

“That’s what we thought, initially,” Marco admitted. “He had Star use this really weird spell that set it off like a bomb. The whole castle blew up, Toffee included. We thought it killed him, but… well, it obviously didn’t. He came back.”

Jackie furrowed her brow, thinking for several moments. “Not to insult your storytelling or anything, but I’m really lost.”

“Yeah, I’m, uh... kind of skipping over a lot. Sorry.”

“It’s okay... I know there’s a lot to go over, probably.” She glances around her room once before an idea came to her. “Wait! What was up with the night of the school dance? In the graveyard, when that weird little bird dude showed up.”

“That’s Ludo,” Marco explained briefly. “Long story short... when Star tried to destroy the wand, it actually split it in two. Star kept the first half, and Ludo had the other one. That night in particular was when he stole the spellbook from Star.”

“What does that Toffee guy have to do with this?”

Marco tried to recall as much as he could about the days prior to Star’s disappearance, but the fact of the matter was that he hardly knew anything about Toffee’s involvement with the whole situation. There was obviously a lot more to it, far beyond his own knowledge.

“That spell Star used must have put him inside of the wand. For some reason, she used it again, and she got caught in the blast that time...” He took a pause, having a hard time thinking about those that few moments before she disappeared. “Toffee got out. Wherever the spell put him, it put her in his place. I think that might have been his plan all along.”

He was leaving out a lot of the details—he could tell from the slideshow of emotions on Jackie’s face that she knew his explanation wasn’t quite lining up—but frankly, he could hardly make sense of it, either. Even if he had visited Mewni several times now, everything about it and its magic was otherworldly. He couldn’t imagine how crazy it sounded to someone who had never even been there.

It wasn’t that unlike the Neverzone, in that way, though Mewni was certainly a lot less intense. A few things had stuck with him once he left—mostly learned skills, like how to drive a dragoncycle or wield a katana—but all the rest of his memories of that place had faded in a matter of weeks. He supposed it was time shenanigans of some sort, but it was still weird to him that he had acquired these skills when he didn’t remember practicing them at all.

Jackie had remained silent, mulling over his words. In the temporary break in conversation, Marco went on, saying, “Apparently this guy has been involved with Star’s family in the past, but I don’t really know how.”

Finally, she spoke up, offering an idea of her own. “Can’t someone use the same spell, or something? Anything at all?”

Marco shook his head. “I don’t think it’s that simple. The wand seems to be broken for good now, and I think that’s the only way to get to where she is.” He stared at the floor as he was reminded of just how dire this situation was. “She’s trapped in a dimension that no one can get to, and… I can’t tell if that’s worse.”

Jackie immediately dipped her head in understanding, and her sadness was apparent on her face. “Gosh, this really sucks.”

“That’s a heck of an understatement.”

“You were there when this happened? I can’t imagine how hard that was.”

He nodded once, averting his gaze from her when he felt his eyes begin to tear up again. “It should be so easy, but it’s not… everything that could have possibly gone wrong did go wrong.”

Despite his efforts to hide it, Jackie was quick to notice his defensiveness. “Hey... come here.”

He hesitated for several second before finding the energy to move. When he got up, she stood as well and met him halfway in a hug.

“I-if I had known that was the last conversation I was going to get to have with her,” Marco mumbled, his voice never rising above a whisper, “I, I wouldn’t have just let her leave without—“

Wordlessly, Jackie pulled him in tighter, resting her head against his shoulder. “I know,” she murmured. “I’m so sorry.” Marco could tell from her tone of voice that she was upset, even if she wasn’t really showing it in the same way he was.

In that moment, he felt awful for subjecting her to all of it. She and Star knew each other, of course—it was hard for anyone not to be charmed by Star’s infectious personality—but he wasn’t sure if him dumping all of the information on her without warning was a fair way to relay it. I hope she doesn’t feel guilty about what happened.

Nobody should have felt responsible. Not Jackie, not Janna, not Marco. It felt awful to admit it, but Star had been a victim of bad circumstance, and that was all. It wasn’t his fault. He wasn’t supposed to be a mind reader.

A shudder went up his spine. But why do I feel so guilty?

“I’m so glad you’re here, Jackie,” he said, attempting to redirect his thoughts.

“And I’m glad you’re back,” she replied. “I’m so happy that you’re safe.”

At least he didn’t have to wake up for school tomorrow. That was something he didn’t think he could manage.

#star vs the forces of evil #svtfoe #marco diaz #janna ordonia #moon butterfly #river butterfly #motherverse #tbwlhw #immersive

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