#i love being alive in this fake world with fake money and fake lines and people that hate other people for just living their life and being | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lala1267 · 11 months

Text

Made it, ended it.

Summary: A young girl who came from a rough background just wanted to get her name out there. Her homelife feuled her drug use. She finally made it, but things took a turn for the worst

Warnings: mentions of suic1de, terrible mental health, abus1ve parents, swearing, death, drugs (pills, w33d), addictive drug use.

Wordcount: 8781

Notes: This is a very dark fic, so only read if you're comfortable. And btw, I'm using cher as an example of what Cora looks like.

Cora was just a poor girl living in the most dangerous part of town. There would be criminal activity happening everywhere. Drug dealers and criminals walked around the poor estate. At just six years old, she had to endure her father's violent beatings that usually eneded in bruises and tears, and her mother's wicked words that escaped her long frown. She was quiet, shy, and sad, all thanks to her horrendous parents. At the ripe age of 10 years old, she was put into foster care. Her foster parents weren't as bad as her biological parents, but they weren't loving either. They would leave her out and say horrible things to her as she cowered in the corner. They were unfit to look after their own children, never mind a foster child. They lived in Memphis in a small, run-down house that was on its last legs. Unfortunately, they couldn't afford clothes, food, bills, or anything. It was just like before. She could never escape poverty. The harsh words of her foster mother lingered in her head for years to come.

"Cora, stop touching our food. This ain't your house or your family. Now piss off ya stupid girl!"

She wasn't even allowed to eat food. Her ribs would poke out of her chest as her wrists shrunk and her body turned into a skeleton. She was in iternal suffering. Her neighbours would complain about the shouting and fighting. But no matter how much they complained, nothing changed.

Coral used to lay awake at night, fantasising about being famous and rich. She saw Elvis Presley on the big screens, and she would just imagine that it was her. All she wanted was money, power, and glory. She would sleep all day just so that she could be lost in the eternal universe of her wild dreams. She was just a kid who could only dream.

At fourteen, she was hit like a brick. She would just wish that she could escape this place, this dirty, unwelcoming house that she was trapped in. She had discovered the power that she felt when she was intoxicated. She discovered the world of drugs and depression. She would use drugs and liquor just to feel alive, almost like an escape from her lonley dark world. This was a growing problem for her.

"Ok, fine, I will only try it once." Turned into,

"It's only twice a week, it can't be that bad."

Turned into,

"It's only a few times a day, I will stop when I want too."

And just like that, she was unable to stop inhaling toxic smoke and drinking poison liquor. It was all fun and games until she wasn't able to draw the lines between the real and the fake. But she already brought a ticket, so there's was no turning back now. She was trapped in an endless cycle. As Coral's mental health plummeted, her drug use only increased. She had begun to see constilations in the sky and dark figures in her room, but they weren't real. It was just the drugs getting to her brain, slowly seeping into her brain. She was on a diet of pills, drugs, and alcohol. If someone gave her a new pill, then she would try it. If someone told her to kill her self than she would attempt it. She was a naive young girl who would do anything to get away from home, even if it meant ending her life.

She caked herself in makeup every morning, but all of the makeup in the world didn't make her feel any less insecure. She was a silly little girl with silly habits.

1968

Coral was now seventeen. She was still failing her classes and living off drugs. She wanted to get to a better place and live a better life. She fantasized about being at the top, looking down at her fans, and just screaming,

"I made it!"

She walked the halls of her school, scanning the posters on the walls. She was hoping to sign up to something, anything, as long as it helped her escape her dark, cruel place in life. She stopped in her tracks as her eyes lay on a large poster that read.

"Looking for actors!

A new movie starring the one and only, Elvis presley is looking for you! You don't need any qualifications or grades! If you are willing to join our production, be at Memphis City Hall at 10 am. Call us on:072425179."

Her eyes lit up but quickly dimmed as her insecurities came flooding back to her. There was no way that she could star in a movie. She was just a shy girl who lived off drugs. After a few seconds of staring at the poster with her empty eyes, she felt a hand on her shoulder, followed by a voice.

"Do it, you would make a good actor."

She turned to see who had spoken. She was met with her English teacher. She just looked at the man who stood before her with no expression before he smiled and walked away. She followed his body with her eyes as he walked along the long corridor and into a classroom. He gave her an ounce of hope.

'You know what, maybe I can do it, just maybe, I can make it one day.'

She thought to herself as she stood in the now empty corridor with a slight grin on her face.

The next day

Cora had woken up at 9 am. She wore a small cheap dress that was pink and studded with fabric flowers. Her long black hair trailed down her back and seeped over her shoulders. Her long eyelashes and tanned skin made her dark eyes misterious and sexy. She poudered makeup on her face as she thought to herself.

"God, I am so ugly. The other actors won't like this."

Coral cared about what others thought, she would worry about what people would think of her even though they never really saw her since she would hide in the shadows. She placed the brush and makeup onto the bathroom counter as she held back the sea of tears. She looked at her reflection in the cracked mirror. She was broken inside, and she couldn't be fixed. She ran to her room and pulled out her stash of weed from under her pillow. She found a piece of paper from a colouring book before she rolled up a spliff and put a flame to it with a lighter that she kept in her room. Each time the lighter clicked, the more desperate Cora became to breathe in the smoke. She brought the paper up to her soft lips. As she inhaled the smoke, she felt all of her worries slowly drain away. With the spliff in-between her red lips, she grabbed her stash of weed and the lighter and a few more pieces of paper before placing it in her cheap old handbag. This wasn't enough for Cora. She needed to feel alive if she was going to possibly star in a movie. She looked at the bed (the old mattress on the floor) she lifted it up to find all of her unperscribed pills that she had stolen. She grabbed a bottle of anti depressants and another bottle of an unknown drug. She opened them both up and tipped a handful of pills in her palm. Without thinking, she swallowed them whole and placed the bottles in her bag. It was only a matter of time for it to kick in, and then she would feel somewhat normal.

She walked down the sidewalk with her spliff in hand as the morning sunlight shined on her face. She was truly a beautiful girl, but she didn't see it. If she would just change her ways and get rid of all the drugs, just maybe she would be happy again. But she always thought that the drugs helped her. She walked for some time until she got to the City Hall. It was right in the middle of the city, the rich part of the city. She felt insecure and out of place as she looked around to see all of the pretty girls wearing designer dresses. She looked down at her cheap old dress before taking a deep breath and entering the grand building. She walked inside as her flat shoes dragged across the marble floor. A man asked her for her name before escorting her into a room with a large number of girls that filled the big space. They were all gorgeous.

The man tapped her on the shoulder before speaking.

"Just wait for your name to be called and then make your way through those doors."

He said as he pointed to the doors at the back of the room. She just nodded before taking a seat away from all of the other girls. She sat there patiently. She was secretly dreading for when her name would be called out, but she wanted to make a name for herself, so she had to do it. After a long thirty minutes of waiting in silence, her name was finally called through the speakers.

"Cora Magdelena."

The speaker said with a bit of uncertainty in their voice as they tried to pronounce her last name. She stood up as all of the eyes in the room turned to her. She could feel her face heat up as she walked towards the doors. Finally, she was through the doors of doom. A lot of high-profile men and women sat on one side of the room as she walked towards the centre of the room. Her hands trembled as her eyes wandered around the lavish room.

"Okay, so we are gonna give ya a script, and you have to read it out. Remember to show as much emotion as you can. We need good actors, not babies."

A man said as his eyes shot her confidence down. His words echoed through her mind before a script was shoved in her face by another high-profile man. She analysed the peice of paper for a few seconds. It was about a girl who was deeply in love, but the man of her dreams was drifting away. Cora felt her emotions cool as she realised that this was going to be easy for her to act out. All Cora had to do was channel her traumatic childhood into her acting so that it would seem more powerful. She took a deep breath before speaking.

"Oh Johnny, please don't leave, don't ever go away."

"Why would you do this? After everything I've done for you, you repay me like this."

She said as her beady eyes locked with the men and women watching her. But she had to do something to make it seem more real so that she would get the spot. On command, she let the sea of tears unleash from her cartoon eyes. She read the scrip so sweetly as the water glistened on her pretty face. Her her lips turned downwards, and her eyebrows furrowed. And before she knew it, she was done. She turned to the group of people in front of her as she wiped away her fake tears and dried her wet eyelashes. They all looked at her, jaws on the floor and eyes wide as they tried to comprehend her amazing acting skills. Cora just looked at them with a confused expression as she played with the end of her dress.

"Wow, we don't have any words. You've got the role!"

One man said with a huge smile on his face. Cora just smiled innocently before speaking quietly.

"Thank you so much."

She tried to play it off cool, but deep down, she was jumping and screaming. A fashionable lady walked towards her with a wide grin.

"We would like to put you on set straight away, if that's fine by you."

She said as her beady eyes met Cora's eyes.

"D-do I have to stay overnight?"

Cora asked with a slight stutter.

"Oh yes, you will be staying on production for weeks, maybe even months. But don't worry, we have trailers that you can live in on set."

Cora just nodded before she got escorted to another room, which held all of the actors that were going to be working on the movie. Cora just looked around the room in astonishment at all of the celebrities. Even Elvis Presley was there. But she quickly bowed her head down as she noticed that she was the odd one out again. She was wearing poor clothes unlike all of the other rich people.

"Ok girl, just sit yourself down, and we will explain everything soon."

The lady said as she patted Cora's back. She walked over to one of the only free chairs. It was hidden at the back of the room, secluded from everyone. She scanned the celebrities as she walked. She looked at Elvis, who was already looking at her surprisingly. She instantly looked away as she felt her face turn red and her hands quiver. She sat on her seat and waited patiently.

10 minutes later

A smart looking man stood in front of Cora and all of the other actors in the room.

"Ok, it seems that we have rounded up all of the official actors. We will allow you some time to head back home to collect all of your things because we will be travelling to another city for production. But first, you must all sign this form."

He said before some people walked around and began to hand out the confidential forms. Cora was given a letter and a pen. She read it and signed it.

"You are over 18:

[yes] > [no]"

She signed "yes" even though she knew damn well that she was only seventeen. But she needed the money. She was willing to lie. Once she had filled out the form, she had handed it back to the person who gave it to her. She was now free to go back home and pack her things. She was still comprehending how fast all of this was happening.

As she walked back into her dirty house, all that she could think about was how excited she was to finally get away from this place and finally get away from the hell that she was enduring. She ran up to her room and packed some cheap old clothes, makeup, and her pills and other drugs. Once she was done, she sprinted downstairs with the big beach bag that was full of her things. She opened the door and quickly ran off without closing it. She wasn't going to tell her foster parents where she was going since they wouldn't let her. She just ran until she reached the City Hall.

She walked through the grand doors once again and into the same room that she was in not long before. She sat back down in her seat and patiently waited for the same man to speak again.

"Now that all of you are here, we can start to get on the busses. You will have assigned seats on the busses, and you will all sit in order of the alphabet. You must sit on the seats that say the first letter of your surname. Now, let's get going. Shall we."

Once he was done with his speech, the actors all stood up and walked outside to the busses. Cora boarded the bus before looking for her letter. Her last name began with an 'M', so she was assigned to sit on the seats that read 'M-P'. Her heart began to race, and her breath quickened as she saw Elvis sitting in one of the four seats on the row. But no one else was sitting next to him. This meant that she was going to be the only one sitting next to him. Her heart fell to her stomach as her eyes met his.

'Just suck it up, he doesn't bite.'

She thought to herself before she awkwardly stepped over his legs to get to the window seat, as far away as possible from him. There were two seats between them. She placed her bag and handbag under her seat before slouching back into her seat. It was going to be an hour ride. She was tired and exhausted, so she couldn't help but doze off. She turned her back to Elvis and curled up into a ball before closing her eyes. Little did she know, Elvis was looking at her. His eyes traced her small figure before he smiled slightly. He slowly moved up to the seat next to her. Cora was already in a deep sleep by the time that Elvis moved closer.

After twenty minutes, Cora turned around and rested her head on Elvis's shoulder whilst still sleeping. Elvis let out a slight giggle before he brought one of his arms up to wrap around her. He played with her long black hair and toyed with the fabric flowers on her dress like a curious child. Cora was gradually woken by his soft touch. She slowly opened her tired eyes and tilted her head up towards his face. She instantly leaned away from him.

"Oh gosh, I'm so sorry, I really didn't know that I was leanin-"

"It's ok, darlin', it was comfy.

Elvis said with a gleam in his hypnotising eyes. Cora just smiled awkwardly before looking out of the window, shielding her bright red face. Her hair was still messy from when she was sleeping on Elvis, and her dress was slightly creased. She let out a sigh as she saw the state of herself through the reflection, all of her insecurities popped back into her brain. All she could think about Is how ugly and stupid she thought she was. As she continued to gaze into the reflection of herself on the window, a single tear travelled down her red cheek, leaving a wet trail behind. She instantly bent over to grab her hand bag from under her seat. She opened it and pulled out a piece of tissue. She brought it up to her cheek and wiped away the liquid. Elvis looked at her with worry written on his face.

"Why are ya crying, honey?"

"Oh, m-me, I'm not crying. Just a watery eye, you know."

She replied as she tried to shield her face with her long, luscious hair. She instantly closed her small bag before Elvis had a chance to see all of the pills and drugs that were stuffed in there. Elvis just nodded awkwardly before turning away to talk to one of the other actors. Cora just silently sobbed with her head turned away from Elvis. For the rest of the ride, she was just rethinking her life. She pulled out her journal from her bag and a pen. She began to pour out all of her feelings and problems onto the thin paper pages. And before she knew it, she had written over twenty pages. She placed her journal back into her bag before continuing to look through the window for the rest of the ride.

Soon, the bus came to a complete stop, and everyone had stood up to exit the bus. Cora was the last one to exit the bus as she let everyone go in front of her and use her as a doormat. She stepped off the bus and was instantly met with a large gust of wind that made her hair fly. She walked inside of the building that they had been driven to. It was a large building that was quite similar to the City Hall. She walked over to the group of actors that gathered around the director.

"Ok, everyone, we will be starting to film in a few minutes since we were a bit late. Just find a trailer through those doors and get settled in".

Cora and all of the other actors walked doutside to find a trailer in the trailer park. Cora found one that settled nicely at the back, far away from the other actor's ones. She opened the door and stepped inside. It was quite and nice, nicer than her house. She placed her bags onto the single bed. She quickly pulled out a few pills from her bag and harshly swallowed them. The sting lingered in her throat. She looked into the window that separated her insane self from the dark, corrupted world. Nothing existed past the windowsill when she was intoxicated. She quickly walked back out into the trailer park.

The director had already began leading the actors to do their scenes elsewhere. Cora stood there, patiently waiting for him to come back. But she wasn't the only one waiting, Elvis was also waiting. He stood a few feet away from her as she avoided eye contact. He kept on looking at her with lust in his eyes. His sneaky eyes were quickly torn off Cora when the director came back to the both of them.

"So Cora, you are going to be playing Emma Davies. Elvis, you are going to be playing Mike Lennon. You are going to start your first scene by flirting and chatting. Then Elvis is going to kiss you, but remember, it's only acting, don't be too nervous."

The director stated, as he made direct eye contact with Cora, who had a wave of panic wash over her. She brought her trembling hand up to toy with her long hair as her face flushed red.

"But we gotta get you to dolled up first. We don't need you to be dressed like...that."

The director said as he looked Cora up and down with his judging eyes. His energy changed from warm and welcoming to sly and rude.

"Just follow me, guys."

Cora and Elvis walked side by side behind the director until they reached the makeup room. It was quite a small space, with only two chairs for Elvis and Cora. It had a large vanity in front of each chair, and a dressing room was hidden in the corner with a curtain for a door. Elvis and Cora sat in the chairs as the director left the room. They sat there, waiting for the makeup artists to arrive.

"Well, I think they're running a lil' late."

Elvis said with a chuckle. Cora just fake smiled before looking down at the floor. Elvis turned to her, and he looked at her shy figure.

"You don't talk much, do ya."

He stated before pulling her hair behind her ear so that he could see her pretty face. She turned to him and looked at his grin in confusion.

"You're really pretty."

He said with a smile.

"Stop being a people pleaser."

She said as her expression turned cold before she pulled her hair out of Elvis's fingers. Elvis just looked at her with a downturned smile.

"Don't be like that, you're beautiful."

Elvis said in a soft and sweet tone. Cora just lifted her brows up and rolled her eyes. Moments later, the makeup artists walked through the door before plotting their things down on the vanity in front of Elvis and Cora. They instantly got to work, and they waisted no time. They had only just started, and Elvis was already chatting away and giggling with them. Meanwhile, Cora sat there in silence, stook in her own draining thoughts. She had zoned out. She sat there staring at the vanity that seemed to turn different colours and distort. She moved her eyes to the mirror. Her reflection was wobbling and shaking. The pills were kicking in. She lifted her hand up to her face. It separated and twisted. She saw constilations in the room that weren't real. She felt like she was in heaven. She was tapped out of her thoughts when she felt the makeup artists hand on her shoulder. She looked into the reflection at the lady behind her. She seemed to be saying something, but Cora was struggling to process or even hear her words since her heartbeat was echoing in her head. She squinted her eyes as she attempted to snap out of her high.

"I said change into this!"

The makeup artist snapped as everyone in the room went silent. Cora finally heard her and just nodded as she looked around the room and all of the eyes on her. The room was spinning and shaking. Elvis leaned towards her and furrowed his brows.

"Are ya ok?"

He asked inoccently as he lifted his hand up to touch her forehead.

"Well ya don't have a temperature."

He said before removing his large hand. Cora just stared at him for a few seconds before breaking the silence.

"N-no, wait, I mean yes, i-im fine."

She said as she slurred her words. The makeup artists looked at her in confusion as she got up and dragged her weak body to the dressing room. Once she was in the dressing room, she instantly fell to the floor. Her chest heaved up and down as she tried to catch her breath. She sat there, drowning in her feelings before she forced herself up off the cold tile floor.

"Suck it up, breathe."

She breathlesy whispered to herself before stripping off. She threw her clothes onto the floor before putting a lavish dress on. She struggled to put it on. Once it was on, she looked at the mirror. She sighed as she looked at the broken, insecure girl that gazed back at her. She turned to the side and sucked her belly in.

"We don't have time, Caroline, or whatever your name is."

A female voice called from outside of the changing area. Cora gulped before pushing the curtains aside and walking out. Elvis's eyes moved straight to her body, which was sculpted into the tight dress that was a dark blue and studded with diamonds that shimmered and shined. He was blinded by her jewellery. The makeup artists had an evil look of jealousy written all over their faces as they shot Cora down with their cold gaze.

"My job is done here. Wait for your hairstylist."

One of the ladies said before walking out of the door. Cora sat down awkwardly as Elvis got up to go and change into his outfit. He walked out in a white and blue suit. He looked drop-dead gorgeous. Cora just looked at him in amazement as she tried to keep her droopy eyelids from closing. The rest of the makeup artists left the room as Elvis walked over to his seat and sat down. Elvis leaned forward and grabbed a half full water bottle that he had already drank from. He held it out in front of Cora, who was trying to stay awake.

"Drink this. It will wake ya up a bit."

Cora eyed the water bottle before reaching her weak hand out to pick it up. She unscrewed the cap and brought it up to her pink lips. She tipped the liquid into her mouth and swallowed harshly. Once she was done, she handed it back to Elvis.

"Thanks."

She said quietly before slouching in her chair again.

"Those makeup artists were a bit-"

He was cut off by the hairstylists that made their way through the door. They got to work right away.

20 minutes later

Cora's hair was in a classic sixties updo with a blue head band placed on her head. Elvis's hair was jelled back, leaving one stray hair to hang in front of his handsome face.

"Ok, all done. Good luck, Elvis."

One of the hairstylists said as she leaned down towards Elvis in the chair and gave him a seductive kiss on the cheek. Elvis raised his eyebrows and flashed a cheeky smile as he watched the hairstylists walk out. Cora just rolled her tired eyes before standing up. She struggled to get to her feet, but she felt less high since the water had clensed her insides. She walked out of the room and into the production area that was right outside. Elvis followed behind her, secretly playing with her long black hair. They were both placed in the centre of the room. A large chandelier hung above then, lighting up their faces. They were given scrips and had some time to memorise it. But their time was over when the director yelled.

"Action!"

They instantly began to act out the romantic scene. Elvis held her hands as he looked deeply into her dark eyes.

"You're looking beautiful tonight, m'lady."

"You don't look too bad yourself. However, I still need to pay you back since you have spent so much money on me."

Cora said as she got lost in his dreamy eyes. She was still high, but she was still nailing this scene.

"And how are ya gonna do that, darling?"

"Like this."

Cora said. Her anxiety began to creep back up on her, and her heart pounded even faster. But the job had to be done, so she did it. She cupped Elvis's face with her hands that were glammed out with rings and bracelets. She slowly lifted her body up so that she could reach him. And finally, their lips met in a romantic kiss. Cora wasn't enjoying this at all, but Elvis seemed to be loving every second of it. Soon after, Cora pulled away and flashed a smile at Elvis. The light shot diamonds from his eyes.

"Cut!"

The director yelled.

"That was amazing guys, now you can go and get some rest. Our next scene will be in an hour."

The director said as the cameras turned off and the tapes stopped rolling. Cora let out a sigh before walking out of the production set and into the trailer park.

She made her way towards her trailer. She opened the door and stepped inside. She was met with all of her outfits for shooting, layed out over her bed. She appreciated that someone was so kind to bring her outfits, but she was too high to care. She removed her dress and deeply exhaled. The dress was so tight that it left deep red marks around her chest and belly. She walked over to the little closet and placed all of the outfits in it, including the dress that she had just taken off. Once she had finished, she grabbed some fresh panties and a tight tank top. She was planning to stay inside her trailer until the next scene, so she didn't care what she was wearing. She slipped the clothes on before grabbing her journal that rested on the bed. She lay down and grabbed a pen. She wrote all of her struggles onto the pages. When she wrote, she felt a sense of relief. Her emotions were no longer a part of her mind. Instead, they were all in the journal. After around twenty minutes of writing, a nock sounded from the trailer door. She rolled her eyes before getting up slowly. She struggled to maintain her balance since she was still too high in the clouds. She stumbled over to the door before opening it to be met with Elvis.

"Hiya, I just wanted to say that you did really well on set."

She just looked at him blankly before replying.

"Ok, thanks."

She said as she looked into his eyes. He seemed like he wanted something or her to say something. Elvis's eyes wandered towards her chest. She wasn't wearing a bra, and it was pretty obvious. She quickly crossed her arms over he breasts. That didn't stop him. Next, his eyes moved towards her lower half. She was only wearing panties.

"Ok bye."

She said as she shut the door rather quickly. Elvis was instantly snapped out of his dirty fantasies when he heard the door slam shut, and Cora's perfect body was no longer in his view. He walked off, defeated.

After all of the scenes were finished - 8 pm

Cora had been through a stressful day. Her scenes gave her terrible anxiety, and the fact that Elvis kept on trying to talk to her didn't make it much better. She sat in her bed in the trailer. She wore short shorts and a tight little crop top, with no bra. She sat in her bed, rummaging through her handbag like a mad girl. She was overwhelmed with emotion, and she needed an escape again. She pulled out her weed. Just the thought of her possibly being famous made her excited but nervous. Her past kept on flickering in her brain, and her abusive biological parents kept on showing up in the constilations she saw. Her foster parents' harsh words echoed through her ears. She rolled up a spliff, she then flicked a lighter until she saw the bright orange flame. She placed the paper in between her soft lips as she held the flame up to it. She stood up and quietly walked outside whilst inhaling the smoke. She leaned her back against the side of the trailer so that she was out of sight. She could feel the sea of tears getting ready to be unleashed with each puff she took. Her breath grew shaky, and so did her hands. The night sky began to spin, and the stars turned different colours. Her hand was moving out of sight as the dark world was spinning. She couldn't hear a thing. She could only hear her heart beating continuously. She was slightly startled when she felt a hand pull the spliff from in-between her lips and throw it on the cold floor. She looked up to see who had done it. It was Elvis. She squinted her droopy eyes to get a better look at the man.

"Hey, that's mine."

Cora said with a slight tone.

"Not anymore."

He said as he stopped her hand from grabbing the spliff that was on the floor.

"You're so rude."

"You shouldn't be smoking on that, it's bad for ya."

He said as he looked at her face, which was lit up by the pale moonlight. Her features popped as her bloodshot eyes looked into his.

"How old are ya."

"Don't tell anyone.".

She said with a sigh as she looked at him with her pleading eyes.

"I won't, just tell me, doll."

"Seventeen."

She said before looking down at the floor as a wave of regret rose upon her. His face dropped as he looked at her in suprise.

"But you have to be eighteen to work on set."

He said with confusion in his deep voice. She rolled her eyes before replying.

"Don't you think I know that? I just...need the money"

She said quietly. His brows furrowed.

"What do you mean, are a poor."

He said as kindly as possible. She felt a tear run down her face as she tried to find her words.

"Y-yeah i am. I'm gonna go to bed."

She said as she brushed past Elvis but was stopped when she felt his large hand grasp hers. She turned around slowly to look at his sad face. He pulled her closer before stroking her hair.

"If you ever need anyone or anything, you can always come to me."

He said as he cupped her rosy cheeks that were glistening with tears. She just looked up at him before nodding and disappearing into her trailer.

The next morning

Cora slept like a sleeping beauty in her bed. Her hair spralled out over the pillow, and her red cheeks glowed. The door quietly creeked open, letting the smallest amount of sunlight into the small trailer. Then came in Elvis. His hair was messy, and his eyes were dreamy. He scanned the room to find Cora asleep. He walked around the space. He seemed to be searching for something. He wanted to see if she had any more marjuana stashed around somewhere. He didn't want a young girl like herself to fall into an endless drug addiction. But it was already too late. He looked inside the wardrobe and the cupboards. His eyes set on the pink journal that lay beside Cora. He took a few silent steps forward. His nosyeness got the best of him as he reached down to grab the journal. He looked at the sleeping beauty that rested a few feet away from him before standing up right with the journal in his large hands. He opened the journal and scanned the pages with his glassy eyes. His brows furrowed as his hand rose up to cover his frown. He felt his heart sink into a dark pit as he saw the words in black ink.

"I just hate it here, I hate my foster parents, I hate everything. But

they are better than my real parents. I can just remember the way my father hit me and took the words right out of my mouth. I just want to get away. There isn't a point in living if I'm just gonna be miserable."

"The drugs don't seem to be helping that much anymore, I've taken many pills and puffs today, but I still want to die. I don't know how much longer this can keep up."

"I've got a role on a set of a movie. I'm really nervous even though I have taken a handful of pills this morning and in my trailer."

Elvis's eyes began to get watery as his hands covered his mouth. He was shocked and disheartened that such a young girl had to go through this. He was appalled that she had such dark thoughts. He just wanted to do whatever he could to help her. His attention was quickly brought to Cora when she shouted.

"What are you doing!?"

Her once sweet eyes were now menacing as she stood up out of the bed to rush over to Elvis. She rapidly snatched the journal from him as her eyes filled with tears.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Didn't mean to what? Read MY private journal?!"

He was interrupted by her snappy voice that grew louder.

"How much did you even read anyway?!"

She snapped.

"I don't know, like a few pages."

He said before letting out a defeated sigh. He was apologetic, but he seemed to grow more angry the more she carried on shouting. Her voice peirced through his ears as he tried to hold his rage in. This was the calm before the storm.

"Oh my fucking god! Yes, I read it, but what am i meant to do now? I've said sorry how many fucking times and you're still shouting. Just shut the fuck up!"

He yelled as he hit the wall with his strong fist. Cora was instantly silenced. She flinched as Elvis hit the wall. The tears in her eyes ran down her face and dropped onto the floor that they stood on. Elvis's face calmed as he had realised what he had done. Almost instantly, he pulled her into a tight hug. His big hands ran through her hair as his sweet words rang through her ears.

"Oh no, I'm sorry honey, I'm sorry."

Cora sobbed until she had no tears left to cry. The smell of his cologne against his chest lingered in her nose. Her hands rested on his chest as his arms wrapped around her figure. He pulled away from her to look down into her watery eyes.

"I will always be here if ya need to talk. Why don't ya stay at my trailer."

He said before Cora nodded in agreement. She turned around to pick up her bags and follow Elvis out off the door. They walked into his trailer. Cora rested her bags next to the bed before she planted herself on the edge of the bed. Elvis stood in front of her. She looked up into his eyes as he bent down to cup her rosy cheeks. Without thinking, Elvis's lips met Cora's. They fell into a passionate kiss. Cora felt tingles in her heart as his tongue traced around hers. Elvis only had eyes for Cora. There was no doubt about it. He was a lover boy who was showerd in diamonds and glory. Cora was just a poor girl trying to make a name for herself. They both pulled away before grins rose on both of their faces. Elvis was a smooth operator, he was a dream.

As the weeks flew by, Elvis and Cora grew closer. They would sleep in the same bed and share the same food. During rehearsals, scenes, breaks, and spare time, Cora would be with Elvis. He was the only person who seemed to care for her. He was the only person who looked after her. She was only young and nieve. She needed an older man's love to keep her suicidal self going. Her mental health slowly got better, but her drug use didn't. She took two handfuls of pills a day and smoked at every chance she got. She was slowly killing herself. Whenever she inhaled or swallowed these illegal substances, she had to hide from Elvis. She would sneak out of the trailer at midnight. She would hide the pills and drugs in her bra, under the bed, in her stocking, and every nook and cranny. It was so tiring, but that was the only way she felt alive. Even if she tried to stop the drugs, she would still manage to get stuck with it all over again. It was almost like she was trapped in a world of drugs and pills. She lay awake many nights, wondering how she had ended up in this place, in this life, where she couldn't get away from the drugs. She didn't have a problem lying to herself.

"Oh I will stop when I want to, it's not that bad."

She thought to herself as she harshly swallowed yet another handful of pills. It was a never-ending hell. She just wanted to sheild Elvis from that part of her life, she wanted to protect him. Even though he had read some of her diary and caught her smoking, he still had no idea how much she was suffering. She was slowly dying. But she always put on a smile so that Elvis would think she was getting better.

After the movie was finished

Her and Elvis walked out of the production set for the last time. They stepped out of the grand doors and into the world of fame. Cora was stunned when she was bombarded by paparazzi and fans. She would have thought that they would shout Elvis's name, but to her suprise, they were shouting hers.

"Cora! You did so good!"

"I love you, Cora!"

Fans screamed and cheered. They obviously shouted Elvis's name aswell but Cora was so surprised that she heard her name come out of people's mouths. She waved bye to Elvis as she entered the limo that waited for her, only her. She sat down in the limo with a grin on her face. She had made it all by herself.

A year later

Cora was only eighteen and was already making six figures and signing checks. She had brought herself a lavish mansion in the city of Los Vegas. She had always been hungry for fane and she finally had it in her hands. She would go on shopping sprees and spend thousands, her hair was always flawless and so were her clothes. There was nothing in her closet that wasn't designer. Diamonds were her best freind. She had found a new confidence, she had found a new personality. As she rose to fame, her attitude grew. If someone were to insult her, she would snap back like strong liquor. She put up a confident, sassy image, but deep down, she was still that shy insecure little girl. She was finally separated from her traumatic childhood, but she wasn't separated from the world of drugs and alcohol. The fame had opened her eyes. On moonlit nights, she would be on the cold marble floor, kicking and crying like a bullied child as she felt the pills and drugs eating her insides, her breathless words echoed around the empty room. But that didn't stop her. She needed more. She needed more drugs to fulfil her high. She was plummeting to her doom. She needed help.

The awards evening

Cora sat in the VIP section of the audience. She was struggling to keep her eyes open as she swallowed even more liquor from the glass of wine that was glued to her hand. Elvis sat on the same table as her, and it was obvious that she wasn't ok. As the cameras flashed and the audience roared, she felt a hand grab hers. She was pulled away into a bathroom. She struggled to maintain her balance as the door closed. A blurred man stood in front of her as she squinted her bloodshot eyes. His mouth was moving, but no words came out of it. Cora was in a different world. She had no idea what was even going on. Her vision became fairly decent when the man clapped his large hands loudly.

"Cora, you need to stop it with the drugs. It's not good for ya."

Elvis stated loudly as he cupped his hand under the running water coming from the sink.

"W-what drugs."

Cora said as she felt her knees weaken.

"Don't be stupid. You are always drunk or high, and it's painfully obvious."

Cora's face scrunched as she pointed her finger in Elvis's face.

"Listen, it's none of your b-buisness about what goes on in my life. And i-im not drunk!"

She snapped as her words slurred. Elvis brung his hand that was filled with water up to Cora's red lips. He forced her to swallow as he spoke.

"Not drunk? you are fucking killing yourself! Now drink, it will sober you up so that you don't make a fool of yourself out there."

Elvis wiped her wet mouth with the pad of his thumb as tears ran down her red cheeks.

"Don't start crying now, there isn't anything to cry about."

Elvis said in a raspy tone as he shot her a look. Her eyes darkened as her emotions fueled.

"You don't know half of what happened in my life, I have every fucking reason to cry!"

She yelled as she pushed past the man standing before her. She quickly fell to the cold floor when she felt the gravity fail on her. She lay there, sprawled out across the cold marble, sobbing like a baby. It was deja vu. She had been in this position many times before. Elvis rushed over to her weak body that rested on the floor. He lifted her up before he sat with his back on the wall with Cora laying on his torso. She cried into his chest that radiated his expensive cologne.

"Hush, Hush, darling. It's ok, baby."

He whispered into her ear as his hands gently hugged her. He knew that Cora was going on a straight path to hell. He knew that the drugs would soon start to eat her alive.

Another year later

Cora and Elvis were best friends. They would hang out together. They would chat for hours it was like they were meant to be. Elvis's feelings for her only grew stronger as time passed. He would dream about her every night and think about her every day. She was his dream girl. Cora had gotten everything she wanted in life, money, power, and glory. She had gotten everything she ever dreamed of. But that came with consequences. She would be stalked by paparazzi and mobbed by fans. She would be hated on by people that she had never even met. They would say vile things. This only feuled her drug use. She played a confident girl who was mentally stable, but she was the polar opposite.

Elvis was out in town looking for a floral shop. He finally wanted to confess his feelings to Cora. He entered a local shop. He looked around to see all of the glamorous flowers. They came in all sorts of colours, and some of them were even studded with glitter. He walked around as he scanned each and every one of the coulerfull plants. His eyes lit up when he saw a bouquet of pink and white roses. The plastic that wrapped around it was white and sprayed with glitter. He reached his hand out to grab the bouquet. His eyes examined it for a while before he made his way to the counter. He placed a twenty dollar bill on the wooden surface before saying.

"Keep the change."

He exited the shop with a wide grin. Whilst he was making his way up to Cora's house, Cora was fighting for her life on the living room carpet. She had overdosed. Her helpless crys echoed around the empty room that was spinning. She could feel her insides slowly disintegrating. She felt as if her heart was bleeding. Elvis was pulling up into the driveway. Time was ticking. Her breath began to slow as her eyelids began to close. The bottle of pills on the coffee table fell to the floor as her tears absorbed in the lavish carpet. Elvis nocked on the grande wooden door, but there was no answer. He carried on nocking until he took matters into his own hands. He twisted the golden door knob as he stepped into the mansion. Her turned into quiet whimpers as her heartbeat slowed. Elvis looked around to see where she was. As Elvis was looking around the house, cora was in the process of taking her last breath. She inhaled one last time before her eyes rolled back and her body powered off. Elvis finally looked in the living room. To his suprise, he was greeted with Cora's lifeless body on the red carpet. His eyes widened in shock as he dropped the bouquet on the floor. He ran over to her, pulling her up off the floor and into his arms.

"Cora, Cora, wake up!"

He shouted as he shook her corpse. His eyes filled with tears whilst he attempted to bring her back to life. He shouted and cried like a lost puppy. Her skin was pale, and her heart wasn't beating. Mabey for him there was a tomorrow, but for Cora, it was the end of days. His heart shattered into a million pieces as he finally accepted that she was gone forever.

Always check up on the people you love before it's too late.

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faroreswinds · 10 months

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Existential question, but what are your thoughts on series changes and how it creates a rift between old and new? The new get criticized for being "casuals", and the old get criticized for being "stuck in the past".

Hm, good question.

I like to believe my opinion is nuanced. On one hand, I don't believe in abandoning a series' identity, and turning your back on the old fans. Old fans are what kept the series alive in the first place, after all. The fans that stuck through the bad because they believed in what the series stood for. The fans that shelled out their precious money for the mediocre as well as the good.

Those fans who stuck around because they loved the series for what it was, what made it special, should not be thrown aside casually.

On the other hand, I also do not believe in completely catering to old fans. New ideas can breath new life into an old franchise. And new ideas can bring about new ways to grow and gain an audience. Sometimes, some ideas are just too niche, and when ideas are niche the series can't pull the numbers in to expand beyond their horizons.

It's a fine line to walk. A series should explore new ideas, but I believe those ideas need to stay rooted to what made the series unique and special in the first place. This is not as easy as it sounds, though. We can see this in series like Zelda or FE, where some of the changes in the newer games have the older fans scoffing at them, while bringing in new fans who have no interest in the older games believe the older stuff is inferior in every way.

Like, if I was to use Totk and Botw as an example, Botw did not scratch that Zelda itch for me because it deviated too much from the origins of the games. Yes, I do mean the OG Zelda game. It has weak dungeons, a weak story, weak puzzles, and so on. But Totk actually felt more like a Zelda game. It still had weak dungeons and a shit story, but it took steps into attempting to bridge the gap between the new playstyle with some of the old, like a linear narrative (sort of), thematic dungeons, etc. [Admittedly, some of that might also be Totk cannibalized a bunch of Zelda games for ideas as well (sky islands, Imprisoning War, Ganondorf kneeling in fake fealty, Sages awakening, a "dark world", a Puppet Zelda AND a Phantom Ganon, time-loop).]

Fans on both sides, though, shouldn't be trying to gatekeep each other from the series. We all love the same thing in some way or another. Old fans should not sneer at the new for being different, and the new should not reject the old as some nostalgic boomer bait. It's the old that lead to the new.

I have been on both sides of the coin. I can say it is certainly easier to be on the "new" side than the old. I am not an old FE fan, for instance. I've only been a fan since Awakening. So the changes that came with Awakening and onward did not hit me so hard as it has FE fans that have been fans for longer. There was a time when I didn't understand why older FE fans clung to the older games, when these newer ones were just the old games but better! It took some time before I saw their side, and I understand now why these fans hold the positions that they do.

The "old" side is much more difficult side to be on. The newer side provides comfort. Comfort in knowing that future titles will likely be more like the new. But the old is not offered such luxury. The old side cannot know if the series will ever return to the way they liked it before. Will I ever get another 2D Zelda again, for instance? Is 2D Zelda dead for 20 years, or longer? Will Zelda continue to be copies of Botw, like Totk was for Botw?

And it is hard to hear how "aged and terrible" the old games are. It is hard to have fingers pointed at you as you hear that you only like the old games due to nostalgia.

I personally hate that this rift exists. I don't want it to exist. And I don't think it has to. I do believe that as long as the series stays true to what it originally was meant to be, what made them popular today and survive so long, the new would be welcomed by the old with more open arms, and the new would look more fondly on the old.

#anon asks #fandom discourse

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pinktricksworld · 2 years

Text

She is tsunami

Life’s humbled me I have no time to think of myself

I’m just asking for a little help

My love’s a scared ocean you're a sailor going against the tides

Emotions guide the waves I’m telling you to find land and make it out alive

A common ground, where the ripples can still touch your hand

I’ll draw you small hearts in the sand

I want to rest my head next to yours

Forget about how bad it’s been before

I’d like to think we’re doing better

When I miss you I make up new letters

When I miss you I create my own language

When I can’t hear your voice the silence is anguish

When your voice is breaking my heart joins in too

Sometimes I’ve made you sad and didn’t know what to do

I accidentally hurt my bestest friend

Please God grant me perfection, cuz I can’t love myself if I do that again

Please I don’t want to feel alone

So can you spray all my stuffed animals in your cologne?

And you do it every single time

My gratitude list says I’m grateful that you’re mine

Your love is blinding to the darkness that consumes up all my time

You are the sun and I’m glad I was blessed with dark brown eyes

That I don’t have to squint them to see you Crystal clear

You lit up the paths and I’m happy you’re here

Your presence I’ll never take for granted

But I know it can feel that way when the words we’ve said done their damage

Pay attention to how I feel not what I say

Because my words simply cannot relay

I am bad at translating words from my mind

But when I process, write it down, and rewind

I realize I was never angry I just needed to cry

I needed to let the past go without asking why

I demanded clarity when the answers would lead me nowhere

Held others responsible for my emotions as if that was fair

I’ll admit, there are More days than some days

Where I forget to not repeat my same, stupid, old mistakes

I’m slow because I smoke

My friends all grew away from self harm and coke

I Never touched it

But I don’t have to snort off a table to be an addict

I shoplift, I drink,self diagnose , and sneak box cutters into my room

It’s funny that I think I could handle shrooms

Because I’ll never grow up growing old

My soul will never match its mold

Understand loving me is tolerating my sparks of immaturity

My screw ups especially because I’ll always be learning

Some days I won’t make it to the sink when the venom spills out

But I’ll clean up the messes I’ve made if you don’t sleep on the couch

I’ll stop drinking wine so you don’t see me puke

I’ll send all my friends back home and disable the nukes

I’ll pretend this water is vodka like in my corny pick up line

Make it to where the oxygens enough to get me high

Learn to enjoy the simple things

To dance everytime my ears begin to ring

If I learned how to make a hard life pleasurable

I wouldn’t need to be rich to feel on top of the world

Dollar spent is a dollar to waste

But I’ll throw away all my money just to see your pretty face

Bad days make me appreciate your smile

How it feels to hold you after being stuck at my house for awhile

You tell me you need to feel safe and loved too

So I let you be the small spoon

And if you’re needing more than that call for me

Take a few deep breaths calm down and come talk to me

I’m sorry I don’t always react the best

That I jump to worse case scenarios when you’re already stressed

I’m supposed to have better foundation as your shelter

Instead I fall apart over the false prophecies of fake fortune tellers

I cross my fingers to avoid it being self fulfilling

But the forces of nature don’t need me to be willing

I’m a deer in headlights and you’re an anxious driver

You hit the breaks but my fate is under the tires

And every time I make it out safely

I ask you “is the eye of the storm still worth chasing?”

#poetry #love #vent blog #bpd thoughts #poets on tumblr

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vr2 · 7 months

Text

wtf is going on in this church, my little guys brother just got turned into a dragon that we had to mercy kill as a class and he still has school tomorow!? we are not doing school today we are going to get a happy meal and watch the breakfast club in class!!!

rambling thoughts below

im having a lot of fun liastening to the supports, i rly enjoy the character writing. my main chars are claude, hilda and sylvain and recently ingrid. i am trying to recruit as many as i can but lifes hard i am a bad teacher :(

i picked the golden deer in the end just because it felt right but edelgard and dimitri are extremely charging. i really wish i could recruit them too. i am hoping for a true end with all three house leaders alive. edelgard and claude are easily the most interesting characters outright in the school roster but jeritza, jeralt, rhea and seteth seem to hold the most interest of the non-school chars. my current thoguhts: claude is possibly an usurper of house riegan. his father either exiled or killed on purpose rather than an accident. i think he's keenly aware the grand duke (his grapa) will soon be out of the picture. there's a hierarchy in the alliance and the weaker houses have already defected such as daphnel becoming galatea with ingrid's support. claude intends to exploit that, he knows a lot abt crests but for what purpose? i think he was atempting to use his crest along with the sword of the creator to fully exert his control over the alliance. house riegan is the defacto largest stakeholder but the fact that house daphnel would even defect to faerghus for the sake of money says a lot abt how tenuous the ties between alliance nobles are. ive just got to flayn being saved and learning more abt crests. crests are the most powerful object in this world as it demarks you as able to use the relic weapons. you are born with crests via rng and crests automatically make you of noble blood. it is another object of status/power in the world. but due to the rng, this means that older noble children without crests are thrown by the wayside. naturally this isn't the greatest situation for the non-crest noble kids as we can see with miklan and sylvain. the crest nobles like ingrid and marianne are used like bargaining tools to cement their families power in the world. its especially grim for the ladies bc bloodlines, ingrids story was particularly emo for me.

there's also the politics of the world. as far as i can tell, there's in-universe racism against people of duscur and there was an incident to do with the faerghus king (dimitris dad) being killed IN duscur? ill be honest this wasnt super clear to me but the npc chatter denotes that people think ill of dedue bc of duscur discriminiation.

idk or care about why felix's dad is at the monastery hes annoying. but it seems the church has the most authority within the land. which is. concerning, given rheas bloodlust. the whole church of serios is bamboozling. rhea is definitely 100% either the actual main goddess OR she is her direct descendant. i think seteth and flayn are also her descendants bc of how they look. there's also that one line where rhea for some reason trails off before calling flayn seteths sister making me think that seteth and flayn are HER descendants actually and she is their like x15 great grandmother or something. flayn is also born on the same day as one of the saints which hints at it more and more.

thinking on the opening movie (which i wish was in better quality) - i think that's miss seiros/rhea and she stole nemesis' sword and put it in a fake tomb and declared herself dead to live as a human forevermore.

i have no fucking clue who we are or who sothis is but i love this little kusogaki. shes so moe. i really truiy cant wait to see what happens. i am about to slap jeritza around i hope i can kiss him.

#i cant believe youve done this vine mp4 #damn you ren #firen emblem

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theorist-influencer-untitled · 10 months

Text

7.9.23

7:11 am

This Uncle Jun still alive, preparing going to his bestfriend Georgia'Z ( which I hate most plus the BetsilogZ)....They are in group... They are the people who want to prove their presence in this world...

Last food yesterday....Everyone is fake here... All want to be important here and there....Fakers organizers such as Uncle DD.... Fakers George feeling high... Plus this windblow trap!!!

From the past years there are so many fake ministers in the church of christ....They gathered people for wealth but had a bad agenda on other people... They were on TV and became known and other committed suicide coz of the shame and embarrassment when the time that other people caught them....Coz they are having bad agenda...

These days still the church of christ some are fake... They gathered only for themselves and harm people like me, that I was once part of the people sitting on that high chair inside the church, the choir member's benches!

Who is afraid to see devil or probably lucifer? Only the fake heart angels!

BetsilogZ? ( my biological mother) is a false prophet...They appeared middle-class with her favorite daughter my half-sister Burger ( their chosen Kate Middleton in the family )... Betsilogz lately always claiming that they are Church Of Christ... I wanted to laugh... They became the honey or Burger's became the honey beee of the family, that I wanted to vomit!

THEY TOOK OR STOLE AWAY MY POSITION BEING THE HONEYBEE!!!

No food today... No wifi here Uncle DD is always on his "Viber"... hmm.... Only viber... I'm always on the "messenger"...

I think Aunt Teresa and her gang in Japan should go home for the fair togetherness here, angels! My verdict!

youtube

8:31 am

Some Immaculate Conception Acadeemy are as well crazy...

They need money??? THE MANGUBAT'Z ( even them àre zombie'Z).

All of them are crazy combination of fake old friends....

8:59 am

I still have windblow trap and there are some things that I can't understand....

There is a crime organization and I can't get it that some people aren't part of it? But I'm into it... huh?

Anyways, exes are my main followers and we did treasure the past ( I believe so... ) Killing someone for me is logical reason, why and if they deserve it?

1:36 pm

I still have windblow trap... I wanna leave the hometown... I feel bitter...

How can I get a bf to be my support system...

If it's Filipino, I wanted a solid aristicrats like Lopez, so angels let this diary reach Lopez....

I can't exist in Cavite...

1:47 pm

I wanted a collagen angels on parts that I have to but first on my face and I need a botox for my deep smile lines... Aging for nothing here... I feel bitter!

I miss going to gym and I want salads and I have a son-dog angels... I want someone a mature real adult willing to be my support system as his partner...

1:57 pm

I'm nice but I want stronger than me... This woman is just a good nurse or caregiver though they had their wedding but it is symbolical...It is kinda weird...

Hope and pray God will bless me to have a normal life coz my family is a weird thing to know... I'm nice but I can't marry a disable coz I have needs and I need a support system this windblow trap made me disable, in a way...

Each of us have our own strength and weakness... Things that you can tolerate and able to handle and things you can't... Everything must be from the heart...

I love this youtuber coz it something deep... It is somehow emotional but they didn't show it... They wanted to appear fierce.. Coz if dogs have the right to have a comfortable life, the disable human as well....There are people who can handle to give and show the value of life on someone that is on the situation of being hopeless but giving their right to live to feel love and care as long as they are still here on earth...

This is their way of showing affection.... Coz marriage is not only having sex with each other but it is like a deep friendship like me I had good friends way back and I never slept with them but well probably they are still my friends who are willing to stand by my side no matter how poor we are now... That is marriage!

3:28 pm

Whew! If I have my dream starter house on a container... This will be an another starter dream house for me... I can imagine myself being on that house with John and with people I like... Such as this house...

One of my styles is cozy aside from being "victorian"... hahaha expensive to be victorian...

youtube

4:10 pm

Wifi + starter container house not bad angels...

youtube

Cozy and stable ...Able to have my starbucks everyday...

youtube

9:40 pm

Awhile ago around 5pm me and my son-dog John went out just to walk and check the Zumba people in baranggay... Every Sunday Uncle Jun told me that they will gather in-front of baranggay to do Zumba ( Why not inside the court??? )

It is just today that John is able to see the outside world again... We also saw Ashley awhile ago, the Belgian Malinois in the neighborhood there at the front building, where 12R store is located.... Good thing, John was no longer reacting on Ashley... I think Ashley was just flirting on John ( Still extra careful )...

Thank God for the strength... Nana and Uncle Jun are sick... Nana got slight headache and a bit of coughing...Uncle Jun didn't make it today to report on Georgia'Z cave coz he is badly sick until now, he told me that his vision is somehow spinning... ( that's why, he needs to lift me up angels... ).

Still, no signs of life from the father figure of Aunt Karen's son ( Uncle DD... )... Still, waiting for food alms....

In the Nutshell: Explanation on getting a partner.

I don't like a guy who will tell people that he likes me but having a judgemental family... I'm just being truthful here and this is an open case coz if you want a genuine relationship, you have to open the negative side of your personal story...

Snapping is acceptable if it is acceptable...Gets Angels??? Snapping is fine if it is on the right place or mission or hidden good intention...

But snapping on me at my back that a family of that particular guy who told other people that he likes me and being judgemental and just wanting to prove that they are higher than my family is a bad snap!

youtube

Last last year, last last year angels...

#Youtube

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alvarezmarquez6 · 2 years

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Replica Celine Luggage

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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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subwaysurf45 · 3 years

Text

Winter Makes Ice (Ep. 4)

Summary: you’re captured after a brawl at the Avengers building, Bucky and others must save you before Hydra makes a new Winter Soldier out of you, Bucky has given up that title.

Words: 4123

Episode: Four

Warning: violence, gore, description of violence, fighting

Masterlist! Winter Makes Ice Episode: Three

Time: 3:20am

Date: October 3rd 2024

Wakanda was always calm when Steve went, the people who lived there just seemed to understand the ways of life. There was never a catcall or fight in an alley, people greeted each other with kindness and a soft bow, Steve always copied but felt like he was too stiff when he did so. He found he walked with his back a little straighter and his chin a little higher, he felt unstoppable in the warm climate, filled with power and generosity.

Natasha on the other hand hated Wakanda, not because of the people but for the same reason as Steve; it was too peaceful. She’d always get the dirtiest looks when trying to explain her case, no one seemed to understand the concept of ‘too much comfort is uncomfortable’. She ran to Bucky once after a moment and asked him why he liked it so much, she thought he off all people would hate comfort, he’d always be one to sleep on the floor because the mattress would feel like it was swallowing him. He just shook his head and shrugged, he’d never tell anyone why; Nat found out he never even told you.

Natasha had been trained to trust no one other than yourself, but after escaping the Red Room she questioned the one in the mirror all too often. People would smile and while Steve smiled and waved Natasha thought of ulterior motives, why were they smiling to them and not the people slightly behind them? but then they’d smile to the people behind Natasha and she’d question if it was to cover themselves. The welcoming's to almost everywhere felt weird, she wanted to break in or have to fake her way to what she wanted, having doors opened for her felt like a slap in the face for all the things she’s done for those years before.

“God, gives me the creeps,” Natasha faked a shiver, Steve just rolled his eyes. They were walking in the palace now, T’Challa would be waiting for them in Shuri’s tech room.

Apparently Shuri had been wanting to try a new type of cuff, one made of- obviously -vibranium that tightens at a lie. There were little needles that poke into the culprit's nervous system, it picks up on someone’s sign that they are lying and tightens when the little pins are triggered. If someone's breath picked up or heart rate doubled, it would squeeze a little bit more until their hands were blue. Nat thought it was amazing when she heard it over the phone, her mind was picturing it the entire flight over.

Steve had been thinking about Bucky, Steve was well aware of Bucky’s deep connection to you. You’d been dating for over a year and it was love at first sight (then Bucky quietly loving you from the other side of the room), Bucky was never one to fall for someone, he’d never have the confidence in himself that he’d be here for too long. But it was the little things Bucky began to do that made Steve appreciate you even more. He’d watch from his spot on the kitchen counter, quietly sipping coffee and reading the paper, which wasn’t actually paper because it was on his phone, while glancing over every so often to see you and Bucky in your own little world, both giggling at something. There's this moment for Bucky when he’d just look at you, Steve had seen it happen so often, like Bucky was taking a step back and realizing he had someone who loved him unconditionally. The laugh would die down and Bucky would whisper something, it would alway be along the lines of ‘thank you’ but it could change. He’d sometimes do it with Steve as well, both you and Steve would say the same thing, ‘no need to thank me, but you’re welcome’ because that’s what Bucky liked best.

You were just an agent when you arrived, nothing more. Slowly you had gotten to know who everyone was by going out of your way to give out cookies to everyone who walked by you, it was a little thing Bucky seemed to really enjoy. After your talents were discovered from past jobs you were moved to a spy, you’d used to work for a private firm where they’d track down people who launder money, you’d have to get so much evidence it often led you to get jobs at mattress stores or random shops. With that and a lifeguard certification- that you got when you were a teen- under your belt you were perfect to be an agent, Fury introduced you to Bucky for combat training because Bucky needed to learn how to work with others; Steve actually told Fury to give Bucky the assignment.

You’d spar everyday and the both of you would get into it. There would be times where you wouldn’t talk to each other for the rest of the day because the other cheated. Everyone would laugh but you’d take it very seriously, Bucky would always say you weren’t strong enough to go out into the field, so you lifted weights. He’d say you weren’t fast enough, then he’d see you sprinting on the treadmill a day later.

Steve knew you were good for Bucky when you were about to start dating, it was at that part where you were going on dates but you weren’t dating. With all the things Bucky had criticized you on, you flipped it on him with one simple task: keep your fiddle-leaf fig plant alive. It would’ve taken Bucky one google search to find out that 61% of people can’t keep this house plant alive, it’s the hardest one to take care of. It was a metaphor of sorts, for you and for your relationship.

It wasn’t a surprise to find it dead when you got home, Steve came to you with his shoulders slumped. Apparently Bucky had been crying for three days straight because he killed your plant and he thought you’d dump him because of it. It was the weird feelings when Steve saw you start to laugh, this was his best friend who was crying of guilt and you were laughing, he’d wanted to punch you square in the jaw.

“What’s so funny?” he asked way too harshly.

“Oh nothing…” you wiped the tear that had fallen.

“Baby, I’m so sorry!” Bucky had left his room and came running to you, his face was red and his eyes were barely open from how puffy they were. He quickly pulled you in for a hug, “I messed up your plant, I’m sorry.”

Steve was getting redder and redder the more you laughed, “what’s so fucking funny, huh?” Steve boomed, he was getting protective.

You had dropped the act then, both of them were very emotional at the moment and laughing wouldn’t be the best choice of action. “Don’t worry, Bucky,” you soothed him, “you weren’t supposed to keep alive.”

“What?” he pulled away and sniffled, “but you asked me to-”

“To try,” you paused with emphasis, “and keep one of the hardest plants to keep alive, alive.” you smiled, “I was proud that I had kept it alive for as long as I did, but I needed to see what you would do with something like this.”

“Why?” Steve asked for Bucky, still very protective.

“Did you buy a new one and hope I didn’t notice?” You asked, Bucky shook his head no. “did you get mad at me because I gave you a stupid chore?” He also said no to that. “Did you make Wanda keep it alive with her powers?” all these options ran through Bucky’s head and he didn’t even think of them, “you put so much effort into this, and even if you did fail you still cared a lot, that’s all I ever want. I want this relationship to work and if you run at the first sign of adversity then this won’t work, but you buckle down and keep pushing, and if it doesn’t work? Then I know you actually cared, and you tried. That’s all.”

“You’re a keeper.,” Steve said before walking away and giving them space to catch up.

Nat waved a hand in front of Steve’s face, and it turns out he’d been staring at T’Challa for a while while he was talking. They had walked the entire way and Steve just stared at the ground with a blank expression, he needed to look out for you in order to keep Bucky sane.

“S-sorry, I zoned out.” Steve straightened his posture a bit, hands on hips and shoulders rolled back.

“No worries, captain Rogers.” T’Challa spoke calm as ever, “I have the criminals in the room, they have the new tech that’s already set up, my sister wanted to set it up.” T’Challa opened one arm and guided them to the secret room where two men sat with their hands cuffed and on their laps. “Neither of them have any record of being born, probably a fake identity.” The king linked arms with Shuri and walked out of the small room.

Seeing how grand and futuristic Shuri’s lab was made it shocking to be in a normal interrogation cell, two rusty chairs that were occupied and no table. Steve looked to see the single light that hung from the ceiling, it wasn’t a soft yellow like the one’s at the Avenger building but purple, vibranium always casted a purple/blue hue.

“Where are you from?” Steve asked.

“Iceland.” the one on Steve’s left answered.

“Is Hydra now stationed in Iceland?” Nat cut in and asked.

“One station, there’s many.” The same man on the left kept talking, the other one had his head all the way down with his forehead touching his knees.

Steve leaned up against the wall, “you attacked Princes Shuri, why?”

“Because she is the one that made us start from the very beginning, she's the one that erased the trigger words from your friend and our weapon.” He snarled, “She needed to pay for what she did, we should have known Wakanda was the hardest place to attack, we’d need a Winter Soldier for that.” A smirk grew from the right side of his mouth.

“What are you smiling about?” Nat pressed, she walked closer.

“Oh, nothing- ow!” the handcuffs tightened, his breathing rate doubled as he tried to ride out the initial shock.

“Tell us!” Steve smashed the wall, causing a dent to grow from it.

“Fine…” the man adjusted, “once we found out we’d never get our Winter Soldier back we quickly moved on, no one can break Wakanda’s tech, it’s impossible.” The man sighed and looked off, “so we chose to start again, make a new way, create a new trial. It’s safe to say we did.” he took a deep breath and leaded back against his chair, his fingertips were beginning to turn purple, it was difficult to see with the purple hue of the room. “When we attacked your building we didn’t want Barnes, we wanted someone, anyone. This girl was the closest to us, and it seemed to be the closest to Barnes, am I right?” he quizzed, seemed to be genuinely wondering. “She’d wake up and forget where she is, normally she’d pat the ground beside her and call out for a man named Bucky, that’s Barnes. It was the perfect choice, completely on a whim.” He looked at Nat, “she got her confidence from you, the entire time we were slowly poisoning her she completely believed she was here for ransom, it was funny to see her face when he told her what we did to her, how we now control her. The look on her face when we asked who wiped Barnes’ trigger words… She spit them out but her face was full of fear, her voice and thoughts weren’t her own.”

“Why would you tell us all of this?” Steve asked.

“I know I will die,” the cuffs didn’t tighten, “and my friend is already dead, I’d like to go with a bullet and not torture.” He looked up to them. “I think my father has passed, he worked for Hydra and I’d like to see him, to ask for forgiveness.”

Natasha pushed back the other man who hadn’t spoken a word to find his hands blackened and completely dead, the tightness had cut off all circulation. Right near the edge of the cuff and on the man’s skin was starting to split, there was no blood to leak out of the cut because there wasn’t blood in the veins, it was slowly falling and peeling away.

“You tortured my friend- two of them actually!” Steve screamed, “I hope to god you die slowly.” Steve lifted his gun to the man’s face, he closed his eyes. But Steve moved the aim to the thigh, you had told him that a shot to the femoral artery was fatel after ten seconds of bleeding, you had also told him that the femur- which was what the femoral artery is attached to -is the most painful break for bones.

So Steve shot at the middle of the thigh, he and Nat watched without emotion as the man quickly bled out, the blood squirted in the air and rolled down his pants. Blood coming from an artery is bright red and tends to squirt, but from a vein makes the blood more slow and dark. When the final squirt of blood managed to hit the man’s face, Steve knew he hit right on target; and that you were right for all those things.

Time: 5:59am

Date: October 3rd 2024

Bucky and Wanda walked through the forest, most of the leaves had fallen off the trees due to the season so they could see further into the thick woods. Not a lot of talking was happening between the two of them, Bucky was way too focused on keeping his cool while Wanda used her powers to see if there was any form of life around.

The wind blew softly and the leaves that held on for dear life were now getting pushed aside off the flimsy twigs, they would fall and join the other countless leaves that met the same fate. Wanda loved the fall, she’d jump into a pile of leaves any chance she got. Right now she was purposely stepping on the ones that looked the most dry which would give a good crunch. Her nose was a little red due to the cold but everywhere else she was yellow and happy, it seemed she gave off heat.

Bucky hated the fall, the sound of stepping on leaves sounded like someone was right behind him. If there was a Hydra agent out in these woods they would have heard them from a mile away with all of Wanda’s jumping and giggling. Bucky loved Wanda in a motherly kind of way, but sometimes she was just too...happy…

When everything seemed lost, Bucky and Wanda’s phones began to vibrate, Bucky was quick to pick up. Both Bucky and Wanda made their way to a tree stump to take a moment to listen. Wanda sat on the ground floor and picked at the tons of leaves that covered the ground, she’d pick and rip them apart one by one.

“It’s Steve,” Bucky whispered before picking up, “Steve?”

“Buck, you have to listen to me,” his voice was shaken and distraught, “I’ve sent the coordinates, she’s there but I don’t know how much of her is left.”

“What does that mean?” Bucky asked as he looked over to see Wanda looking at the coordinates on her phone.

“I don’t know how much has happened to her, they’ve brainwashed her.” Steve took a deep breath, Bucky could hear Nat in the background, “we have to act fast, we’re on our way, do not wait for us.” he commanded and Bucky nodded but he knew Steve couldn't see, there was a type of mind reading between the two of them that really came in handy for times like these.

“Roger that.” Bucky hung up and began to move again, Wanda had read the location and it turned out they weren’t that far away, at the final stretch they saw the building through the empty trees.

The forest had been cleared around the building, the grass seems healthy but it was starting to brown with the changing weather. The building itself was very small for it to be the most dangerous Hydra facility, it was only one story. There were no windows and the outer wall was all one grey colour, no symbols or tanks ready to fire; there wasn’t even a guard around the building. It seemed too vacant for it to be true, the wind seemed to stop as they got closer into the open field, it was completely still and almost dead.

Bucky or Wanda actually had a plan, everything had been so fast there wasn’t anything drawn out or spoken about at some meeting, this was all instinct. Though there were no windows and security cameras they both knew something had to be watching the outside, they were low to the ground in the open field but the grass was way too short to cover them. Bucky had his gun ready while Wanda’s hands were in a position to create a shield for the both of them, at the sound of a vibration Wanda checked her phone.

“Steve and Nat have landed, they are five minuets out,” she whispered.

“Copy.” was all Bucky could think to say.

Both of their backs smashed against the wall, with their final moments of bliss before fighting a couple deep breaths were taken and eyes remained shut. Bucky’s finger fiddled on the trigger of the gun, Imagining what it would look like to blow the man who hurt you to oblivion. Bucky moved further and farther away from his Winter Soldier thoughts, the mass murder and robotic revenge. But when it came to someone hurting you, he’d even put the mask back on.

On the count of three the door was bursted open, and right away agents on the inside began to fire. Wanda and Bucky took them down their own way.

One agent was still alive, Bucky ran up and gripped his throat. “Where is she!” he screamed.

“You’ll never know-”

A gun was placed to his head.

“-Alright! Alright!” The man shrieked, “third door on the left, please don’t kill me!” the man cried.

“I won’t kill you,” Bucky lowered his gun but the grip on his neck tightened, “I’ll torture you slowly before.'' His left hand gripped so tight around the agent’s neck he could hear the bone shattering, clear fluid from the agent’s spine leaked from his eye and ear before blood followed. Bucky watched emotionlessly as the agent’s face turned blue and almost popped like a balloon. “Wanda, get them all outside.”

“Yes, sergeant!” Wanda yelled, she was fighting off everyone else.

Bucky blew by everyone as they ran to see the commotion, so ran right by Bucky without thinking he was the threat. Wanda was now outside and in a matter of seconds the eeriness of the outside matched the inside, the air was still and stuffy, it smelt like the beginning of decomposing. Bucky had his gun ready but it seemed no one was in here, his only threat was you.

Bucky took note of the stone grey floors, and stone grey walls, and stone grey ceilings. HYDRA didn’t put much money into design like the Avenger’s did, all the funds they collected went straight into the tech they made and Bucky was sure that’s why they were still around, they had so much money saved that they could pay people to turn their cheek and walk the other way.

As Bucky scanned for something to give away where all the scientists were, his eye met another door in the very corner of the room, it was exactly the same colour of the stone grey walls but the brass door knob caught his eye. All you could hear was the boot of Bucky’s combat boots on the floor, his breath was even scaring him. His hand reached out for the door and when he opened it he found what he was worrying about.

A cell. More specifically: an empty cell.

There were chains hanging from the ceiling, one large cuff, one for what seemed to be used for a neck and then four cuffs for wrists and ankles. Bucky completely forgot where he was, he didn’t remember there was an entire lab behind him, all his mind was throwing at his memories of a cell just like this.

Bucky didn’t remember much about cells in the early days fighting against HYDRA in a cell, in the 40’s. He did, however, remember what it was like to come out of ice when he was needed. The concept of life didn’t exist when he was frozen, it felt like a long blink, it didn’t seem like he’d been asleep for years.

He’d wake up and for a second he was still normal. He’d think it’s cold because it was winter and his house back in the 40’s didn’t have any type of heating system except for a small fireplace, his boots and pants were still on because he got hammered the night before- also explaining the headache -and just fell into bed. All his convincing would go away when his brain would fog again, and he’d look down and catch the shine of his left arm, all at once he’d fall back into place. The dissociating happens after dreams but it came from waking up and not really knowing who he was, as he’d walk to whatever commander was in charge that year he’d ask himself what he was, all the memories and answers in his brain would seem to pull further away, like a word in the tip of his tongue.

He was ripped from his thoughts manually, he thought of you. He thought he was hypnotizing himself when he looked in there at first, too triggered by what he saw to think straight, but he took another moment to look, he saw the chains swinging back and forth ever so slightly.

His stomach dropped, he knew you were still in the room. “Sweetheart?” he called like he always did, “it’s Bucky, we’re gonna get you out of here, come out, baby.” he tried to sound as soothing as possible, he looked under every lab table and every chair.

He flipped through pages on his desk, reading the details of what they did to you. “What is I.C.E.?” Bucky asked himself.

“Injected Complying Enhancement.”

Bucky turned as fast as he could to see you behind him. You were completely naked, body covered in dirt and grime, your hair was hacked and it seemed to have been pulled. Bucky just looked at your body, words were carved into your skin, every single one of them were infected, puss bubbles around the angry red scars. As his eyes trailed up he saw blue on your finger tips, then he reached your face to see a sunken cheekbone and massive cut on your forehead, but nothing compared to a generous piece of your nose hanging on by a thread, the tip was black.

“Baby, do you know me?” Bucky asked through heavy tears, this wasn’t what he was expecting.

You scanned over him, “Sergeant, James Buchanan Barnes, 32557038.”

Right at that moment, he knew you were gone.

Winter Makes Ice tag list: @small-death-and-codeine @commonintrest @buckyys-doll @lil-baby-nor

let me know if you want a tag!

#winter soldier fic #winter soldier oneshot #wintersoldier #winter soldier #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fluff #bucky barnes #bucky #barnes #bucky barns imagine #bucky series #bucky barnes series #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky angst #bucky love

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iwadori · 3 years

Note

Can you write a pure angst, using 10 and 35 please ( Idc about the characters ) :)

Getting hurt with the haikyu boys part 3 (Iwaizumi)

Part one Part Two Part three

Word count: 2.8K

Genre: pure angst

Authors Note: I am sorry for just how shit it is lol. I had an idea and it kind of got worse as it went along but I hope you like it anyways.

You were pregnant.

You wanted to cry.

You stared at the test in front of you. Two lines. Positive. There was no denying it, as much as you wanted it to be negative. You could tell you were pregnant before you even took the test, all the throwing up you were doing, the nausea you felt when certain foods were being cooked at work and the ongoing foot and back pains you felt.

Iwaizumi first approached you at your job, some shitty dinner that only paid you enough so you can make ends meet. You could tell he had money, the way he dressed, his demeanor even the way he talked. ‘What was a man like this doing here?’ you thought.

Apparently, he’s seen you around for a while, your city was small you’d only really leave this place if you had a fair god mother or died and of course you are clearly alive and don’t have a fairy god mother...until you met him.

He ordered a coffee, didn’t drink it though (probably knowing that your boss spat it in whenever he was in a bad mood or because he just needed an excuse to be around) just waiting for you to finish your break. You sat in a corner booth for ‘privacy,’ not that anybody was even in the place.

“My names Iwaizumi Hajime” he said keeping a blank facial expression

“What do you wan-”

“Miss L/N, I think I’ll do the talking here. Okay?” he said with a smirk appearing on his face after seeing your slightly shocked face when he revealed knowing your last name.

“I’ve seen you around for a while now, you’re beautiful you know that right?” he said making your cheeks heat up a bit. “Anyways, I think you’re gorgeous and a man like me needs a pretty girl like you on his arms. By the lack of response to my name, I assume you don’t know who I am...but I guess that works in my favour”

Your face is getting bored by the second not really listening as he rambles on about himself, “I need you to be on my arm every night that I go out to one of my boring business meetings.”

“Business meetings?” you ask

“You know, a bunch of ‘business’ people go out and talk ‘business’ together.” he said sarcastically as if you were stupid.

“I know that, I just thought you’d elaborate about it.” You sighed “What do I get out of this?”

“Finally, you’ve gotten to the interesting part, you my dear get money and lots of It” he says finally catching your attention “I’ll pay you 1 million Yen per night, and all your dresses, outfits and expenses will be paid for so you won’t have to worry your pretty little head about finances again” he ‘smiled’ at you.

“What's the catch?” squinting your eyes

“The catch is just that you have to accompany me to all my events.... and you have to stay in my condo.”

“Wh-”

“Don’t worry dear, it’s a nice place” interrupting you “probably better than any shithole you live in”

“Fine, fine” his words were convincing you “Is there a contract you have for me to sign?” you ask wanting to at least be somewhat ‘protected.’

“No contract, just this verbal agreement. Between me and you right here right now.” he winked “so you’re in agreement of our arrangement?”

“Yes.”

That was your first mistake believing Iwaizumi Hajime.

Sure you could defend yourself now and say ‘I was poor and in need of help’ but you’d know it would just be you in denial talking.

The first time you attended a meeting with Iwaizumi, you came home from quitting your job since Iwaizumi said ‘you’re on my payroll now.’ You found a beautiful red dress laying on your bed accompanied with shoes and accessories and note saying, ‘I trust you to be able to do your own hair and make up my dear – I.H’

You didn’t have any family, or any friends. Most people that have had even a single encounter with you have deemed you to be ‘Not Likeable’ saying you’re not a people person or just lack any sociability. You were stuck in this town because of the debt your father has left you in before he supposedly ‘passed’ away. Leaving you drowning in all his financial woes, meaning you couldn’t go to university or become a professional *insert dream job here* like you wanted to be.

When you exited your building, you saw Iwaizumi leaning against a flashy car parked outside. “You chariot awaits m’lady” he says with a cheeky grin on his face making you roll your eyes. You got in the car and he started driving, humming along to a random song slightly agitating you.

“So, when are you moving to my place? It’s a part of the agreement.” he said in a sing song voice in the tune of what he was humming.

Iwaizumi reminded you of JD from heathers, he was nice when he wanted but he did have a screw loose that was triggered when things didn’t go his way. Like a small child who didn’t get the toy he wanted when he had a million other toys.

Him being the child. You being the toy.

“Our agreement is bullshit, just verbal.” you say mockingly “remember?”

“don’t start with me Y/N I'm not in a pleasant mood today” he says gritting his teeth “and I don’t need you fucking with me tonight.”

He puts his hand on your thigh, a little too harshly making you internally wince. “Okay here’s the rules for the night. You stay on my side for the night, only speak when spoken too, don’t drink too much since no one likes an alcoholic of course.”

“Oh, so all I need to do is sit pretty like a good little girl.” you say sarcastically

“Precisely” he lessens the grip on your thigh making you breathe in relief.

The event was boring to say the least, you did as Iwaizumi said stood next to him with a fake smile plastered on your face all through the night. You’re sure that people did ask you questions, but you were in your own little world only stepping out of it when Iwaizumi either pinched your arm or gripped your thigh.

The end of the night was ‘eventful’ to say the least, before you entered the car a hand wrapped around your waist and you were pulled into a back alley. “We couldn’t end the night so boring, could we?” it was Iwaizumi, of course it was.

He started peppering your neck with kisses and roaming his hands all over your body. He eventually trailed the kisses from your neck to your lips, leading you both into a full blown make out session. It was fast and you couldn’t really think straight. Iwaizumi was getting a bit too forceful, gripping and kissing harder than he needed to, leaving marks as if to say ‘you’re mine now.’

That was your second mistake. Getting sexual with Iwaizumi Hajime.

He said you had to go back to his house which was basically now yours. You complied, obviously had no other choice since he didn’t offer or ask. He told you too.

Waking up in the Iwaizumi residence was an ‘experience.’ Iwaizumi wanted you awake when he was awake and asleep when he was, never giving you a moment too yourself. You swiftly came to the learn of the reason why he wanted you in his ‘care’ (as he called it anyways) he wanted his eyes on you all the time.

You carried on attending the events bored out of your mind and the nights went the same way. Fancy dress, long car ride, not paying attention, getting fucked in the back alley then sleep in Iwaizumi’s expensive silk sheets.

You didn’t know much about Iwaizumi besides what you could find. In the day time, Iwaizumi spends it cooped up in his office whilst giving you the ‘permission’ to roam around the house. Iwaizumi kept all his important stuff in a small box under a creepy floorboard in his basement original idea I know. All the information in there was just stuff about generic stuff about his childhood. Him being brought up into wealth, how much he weighed as a baby and all the allergies and boring shit that he had.

Iwaizumi Hajime was an enigma.

You and Iwaizumi did get along. Sometimes. You did do things that weren’t strictly fucking and going to business meetings. He took you on what you could only be able to describe as dates, and outings showing you off to all his actual friends. That’s when you learnt the difference of the ‘two’ men, Iwaizumi and Hajime.

Although they were the same person by name, Iwaizumi was rough around the edges and cold at heart not caring about you at all. Hajime, whilst still being rough around the edges, basically made you out to be his girlfriend giving you the love and care you needed. You really liked the times when you were with Hajime.

That was your third mistake, falling in love with Iwaizumi Hajime.

As things progressed, your quality of life seemed to dwindle (not that it was great in the first place.) Iwaizumi was barely in the house, claiming that for these particular ‘business meetings’ he didn’t need you.

On one night, a simple phone call definitely changed your whole dynamic.

“Yes babe, I’m coming over tomorrow I can’t wait to see you and the girls again.” he said to the other person on the phone.

“Why do you question my love for you, of course I love you.” he said again

“I love you, the girls even the dumb dog that Haru forced me to get for her 8th birthday I love. You guys are my family. My lovely wife and out girls”

Your stomach churned, you backed out of the hallway that you were in. He had a family, of course he had a family. You went into the guest room, where you kept all your things, you couldn’t do this anymore. Although you pretty much lost all your morals when you formed this whole agreement but you refuse to sleep with a married man with kids. You couldn’t. Being the reason why a family might break up is something you wouldn’t ever do.

Iwaizumi heard all your commotion and entered the guess “Woah darling who’s moving out?” he asked jokingly

“Hmm probably your wife and kids, after they realise their husband is a CHEATER!” you spat

“Woah, woah Y/N” he said getting closer to you “You don’t know what the fuck you’re on about”

“I think I know pretty well; you’ve always been a pompous ass Iwaizumi; it was my bad for thinking that you weren’t married throughout all of this.” You finished packing up as much close as you possible can and headed out the room.

“You need to watch your mouth Y/N” he says aggressively

“Or what Iwaizumi, or should I say Hajime” you shout “Or is that only reserved for your WIFE!”

This seem to really tick him off, “You don’t know anything Y/N, you really think I could love a dirty slut like you? Huh? Well, I didn’t know that you were important enough to be able to know the details of my personal life.”

“I'm not a slut” you mumbled. Which was completely true, Iwaizumi didn’t notice that the first time you slept together was the first time that you slept with anyone.

“repeat that again for me y/n?” he said mockingly

“IM NOT A SLUT!” you shout in his face

“You are what I say you are darling”

“Fuck you.” You try and push past him hard, to get out the house but you’re no match against his anger and brute strength. So, when he slams you against the wall, he banging your head. Leaving you concussed and bleeding. Before you completely pass out all you hear is a repetition of Iwaizumi Hajime murmuring “I'm sorry, I’m sorry” whilst wrapping his arms around your comatose body.

You woke up, thinking that was all a dream but the ache in the back of your head proved otherwise.

“Y/N, darling your awake!” he said making you flinch

You moved away from him when he sat on your bed looking at you with ‘love’ and ‘care’ in his eyes. He goes to stroke your cheek whispering “you’re so be-”

“Fuck off” you say. That bang to the head was a wakeup call literally reminding you of all the hot and cold moments you had with Iwaizumi that you submerged into your head for the sole reason of ‘wanting to be happy.’ But you weren’t happy. Deep down you knew that.

“But y/n, darling I love you.” he said and you closed your eyes shut wanting to tune him out “I love you Y/N.”

“You don’t" you replied back harshly with your eyes still shut tightly

“But I do Y/N, I love you” he repeated the ‘I love you’s’ over and over making you want to scream out in frustation.

“Shut up!” you yelled “You don’t love me, stop saying that” your head throbbing with every word “Just stop. Make it stop! Kill me if you have to! Just make it stop” you say thumping at Iwaizumi’s chest becoming a hysterical crying mess. You weren’t talking about the physical paint he caused you (even though that hurt ALOT) you were talking about the constant heartache it was just being around him.

He didn’t know what to do. So, he just put his arms round you again and you yelled your frustrations about him to him into his chest.

You woke up into a new place, not your old one or Iwaizumis just something brand new.

With a note on your bed side table saying:

‘I love you and I’m sorry’

Making you tear it up and toss it out.

You had no further contact with Iwaizumi, you figured that the new house you lived in was already paid for, but you didn’t want Iwaizumi to show up one day saying that you owed him money so you decided to get a job. A small one, that didn’t require any strenuous Labour or heavy shift times.

It was a few weeks after Iwaizumi left you and you felt sick and heartbroken. After finishing your shift at your job you felt hot headed and extremely ill making you run to your toilet to spill out your guts.

Which lead you to your predicament now.

Pregnant.

You were pregnant.

You wanted to cry.

You stared at the test in front of you. Two lines. Positive. There was no denying it, as much as you wanted it to be negative. You could tell you were pregnant befonhre you even took the test, all the throwing up you were doing, the nausea you felt when certain foods were being cooked at work and the ongoing foot and back pains you felt.

You didn’t know what to do. There was only thing you could do, but you certainly didn’t want that. ‘Call him’ the voice in your head urged. ‘That would be the best option right?’ you thought ‘I mean he did love you afterall...’

It took a whole day of pacing around and wondering on what you should do. But you knew that leaving the situation longer would only make it worse. So you kept his business card on you when he gave it to you since that was the only phone number you had. He was all you actually had.

You called and the phone rang 4 times, your heart beating faster and faster as it rang.

“He-”

“Hello this is Sakura Iwaizumi speaking” a feminine voice said “Who is calling?” you hear someone say in the background. ‘Iwaizumi’ you thought, your face smiling. You realised you haven’t responded so you rushed out

“I’m Y/N L/N, I need to speak with Iwaizumi.”

“Haji dear, there's a girl on the phone for you... someone of the name called Y/N L/N”

You heard muffles in the background and Iwaizumi saying “Just hang up the phone she’s not worth it.” Your heart stung ‘She’s not worth it.’ Did he really mean that? As much as you claim to hate him, you didn’t really. As you’ve said before you always liked his loving and caring side over his cold hearted one.

You put the phone down and just cried, wailing your heart out for him. Why? You don’t really know to be honest. This was all a dumb agreement, he used you because he was bored and he probably already knew you were pregnant from when he gave you that concussion. But ‘he doesn’t want you’ you reminded yourself because ‘I’m not worth it.’

AUTHORS NOTE: once again, i’m sorry lol. But im most likely going to do a part two of my ‘long shot’ series with Akaashi or a character of your choosing.

#haikyuu x reader comfort #haikyu angst #haikyu x reader #haikyu scenarios #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi angst #iwaizumi fluff #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi headcanons #signedwithane😌

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the-tiniest-one · 3 years

Note

Hello! I saw you asking for requests to be sent in. I was wondering if you could do headcanons for kakashi and gai (separately) with a plus size civilian s/o? Or one or the other? Thank you in advance ❤

MIGHT GUY

SO we all know Guy is ALL about 3 things. Youth. Passion. Protecting Precious People….and guess what? When you happen to cross paths with the Leaf Village’s Blue Beast, he trips over himself to let you know just how PRESH you are.

I don't see your status as a civilian as much of a road block for him. He needs someone grounded and with soft hands to hold.

Someone who will think he’s the strongest man in the world, a superhero.

He protects the ones he loves with his life and once you're in that circle there is no way out of this man’s giant heart.

You somehow enter Guy’s line of sight, maybe on a walk to class or work too early in the morning…. and from that moment you pass by and he catches sight of your pretty face, he is out for the count.

Now. Lets remember….Guy is CONFIDENT (sometimes more in spirit than in actual ability, he is the fake-it-till-you-make-it KING).

Also important to note: Guy is NOT the same as Rock Lee in his pursuit of women. He’s not about to blow every kiss at you from the jump or shamelessly confess everything out right. Don't get me wrong, he’s shameless….but Guy wants to be seen as someone cool, sexy, a real macho/mighty man... He wants to be slick Kakashi his eternal rival. He’s going to try to be velvety smooth….without success.

He would find any excuse to be in your eye line while flexing or saving a poor disguised student he employed for his contrived scheme, in this case... Neji or Lee in a dress from falling off a building LOL. (“They would be asking him to please explain again how this is training?”)------You might be a civilian. But Genjutsu of that level does NOT work on you LOL.

You are the one to finally introduce yourself to a slumped and defeated Guy after about a week of his adorable attempts at trying to bate you in with his goober acts.

“Hello, my name is (y/n). I was hoping maybe you would like to get a drink sometime?” you say with a half smile.

He would raise his head, teeth BEAMING….the power of youth always prevails!

Best. Decision. Ever. Guy charming and not to mention SHREDDED.

When he accepts your date offer, He would stand and grin, maybe saying something a little cocky like; “A handsome, war hardened devilish shinobi such as myself will always find time to satiate the voracious desires of such a heavenly woman so bursting with the essence springtime.”

He would be so so so respectful.

That being said, you're HIGH AF if you think you aren't making a B-line to walk by Kakashi on the way so Guy can tactfully walk by loudly so that his rival notices he’s with a cute girl.

He’s going to be the chivalrous type. The kind of man who makes sure your hands are around his giant bicep whenever he escorts you anywhere….which from this point on is almost anytime he is home from missions or not training.

Guy is perfect. He’s tall, JACKED, and such a sweet loving man.

He is obsessed with your shampoo. His nose is always in your hair.

Lets face it. Guy is 100% the most physical man that has ever walked the streets of Konoha. If you aren't big on touching, then his is not the man for you.

One hand will always be around your waist, holding your hand, arm around your neck, locked on your curves or anywhere else….respeeeectfully of course.

He will always be up on you and in your face so get ready for that LOL.

He will be proud of you. He will be boisterous to an exhausting level about your achievements.

He will be exhilarating in every way.

One of Guy’s greatest strengths is also one of his most unfortunate downfalls. He is wildly protective. Never underestimate his ferocity when it comes to you. You may have to communicate more than once where the line is when it comes to him watching over you. Even though you aren’t skilled in combat as he is, you also are not a child and he will take some time to learn what you require and what you don’t.

He always means well.

You have some faults and things to work on as well. Guy is tender as hell, an emotional, hot blooded, love sick fool who can and WILL take things you say to heart so be sure if you notice him freaking out or trying too hard to make you happy, to hold him and let me know often that he is perfect the way he his.

In the end all of the passions and butterflies that Guy provokes from your heart are entirely justified.

He will ask you to marry him after a date, probably at sunset, one knee, giant ring he spent way too much on.

He claims you deserve the world and you tell him that instead of the world “you would settle for just having his hands, his lips, and his heart.”

Do your best to return his love to the best of your ability because not everyone gets the chance to be loved by the Hidden Leafs Handsome Blue Beast.

KAKASHI

I’ve never seen Kakashi as someone who would end up with another shinobi bombshell.

Instead I think he would find himself interested in someone who is a total badass in another line of work.

Example; You first encounter him one day while advising Lady Tsunade on the information the Hidden Leaf Village (and a few others) pay’s your company large sums of money to collect, aggregate, and report.

Kakashi stands guard during the meeting, watching you speak with an eloquent grace and authority he finds captivating and maybe a little seductive.

By then end of the meeting he is curious about you...wondering what you thought of him, what you think about everything.... You never even look his way.

He falls in line with you as we escorts you out of the building, walking beside you in the otherwise empty stairwell.

You smirk and take the liberty of speaking first. “Did you enjoy the show Scarecrow?”

From that moment on he’s hooked.

Now I also don’t find the idea of him falling for someone with some FULL curves to be all that outlandish….He has never given .00000001% of a shit what other people think.

He also shares the famous Pervy Sage’s taste in “women he describes from research” and romantic books about women shaped like gourds so with that logic in mind….dude likes thicc, full, curvaceous women for sure. It's basically cannon at this point ;)

Kakashi is someone who has learned emotional detachment through pain. You are the first person who shows promise in tearing down those defenses.

Your relationship not necessarily a slow burn. Kashi isn’t a kid, just because he hasn’t fallen head over heals with anyone before, doesn’t mean he is a mystery to himself or oblivious to his feelings.

That being said, I do think he will protect you by keeping a relationship with you under wraps for the first year or so.

If anything EVER happened to you….he wont let that happen.

The secrecy could be hard on you at first.

Watching more than a few women flirt shamelessly with your Kashi is beyond ROUGH.

Especially considering most of them are tough as nails ninja women with perfect bodies. You aren't used to feeling threatened by other people men or women, so you have a hard time learning how to deal with it.

Kakashi is always quick to remind you that he is serious about your relationship though.

He looks at you with a ferocity only seen by people who are no longer alive. His voice is low and serious when he gets close and tells you, “(Y/N) You are my entire life. I will never leave you. I promise I am yours until the day I die.”

After a few times of him promising you that he really is in love with you, you believe him and can be secure in his word.

As his girlfriend, you take his breath away.

The way you speak, move, sleep….

Even the way you casually conduct yourself at home and in public makes him more than proud to know who you are. Let alone get to go home to you.

Guy is the first one to catch on believe it or not. He notices Kakashi peaking over the top of his book at you as you walk down the opposite side of the street. He’s known Kakashi since they were kids, he puts a reassuring hand on your boyfriends shoulder and vows without spoken words to protect you when Kakashi can’t be there….and Kakashi understands. It helps him sleep just a little better knowing he has help.

Stargazing on a rooftop one chilly autumn night, Kakashi grabs your hand and proposes to you with a small silver ring, slightly ashamed for it’s lack of a stone.

“I want you to be my wife.” is all he says and you wrap your arms around him whispering in his ear “You have had my heart since the first day I met you…. And you always will.”

His heart melts into a puddle at the sound of you telling him he will have a wife. Finally have family that loves him this much.

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dreamescapeswriting · 3 years

Text

On The Run ~ MYG [Request]

WORD COUNT: 4.8k

PAIRING: Bodyguard!Yoongi x Reader

GENRE: Bodyguard!Au, fluffy, enemies to lovers, Yoongi has a soft spot for reader, Reader has a soft spot for Yoongi,

WARNINGS: Mentions of dead bodies, blood, mafia, underworld dealings,

A/N: Yes I am simping over Tatsu from the anime “The way of The house husband” so I used his name 😭😭 I feel like this is a little fast-paced so I’m sorry x I hope you like it though my love

Running away. That was your life now. There was no staying in one place, no settling down in some small village. Just running. Don't let people know who you are and never let anyone know your name. All of the joys of being on the run. But this was better than the life you had. At least this was a life. This was better than the way you were living before and you were never going to look back on it.

"Hey! Come back here!" A voice shrieked as you sprinted in the direction of the motel you were staying in. Panicked that they were going to catch up to you as you carried the backpack full of food with you. Run. Don't look back. Don't speak. Don't stop. Don't ever second guess a thing. Only move at night. Don't go out in the day. Just Run.

Tatsu Susaki one of the most feared men in the whole of South Korea. Everyone knew his name and face, even if they barely turned on the news or read a newspaper they knew him. Tatsu had moved from Japan to take over the South Korean underground, bored of whatever life he had back in Japan.

The man everyone called the immortal dragon, everyone feared him even if he was just walking down the street. People would stop what they were doing to pay their respects to him with money or gifts. The scariest man in the country and the one you were in a relationship with. Though it didn't feel like a relationship to you.

To you, it felt as though you were trapped with him rather than his girlfriend. Held hostage in his huge mansion of a home because you had fallen for a stupid pickup line not too long ago. If you had known it would have lead to this kind of life you never would have taken him up on his offer of a date.

"Where are you going?" A voice called out as you attempted to walk out of the back door. Sighing to yourself you had almost forgotten that Yoongi was in the house. Yoongi was your personal torture device.

In other words, he was your bodyguard.

The one you were adamant that you didn't need but Tatsu insisted upon giving to you. On the rare occasion that you were allowed out of the house, Yoongi would go with you. Everywhere. Shopping with friends, Yoongi would be there. Going to dinner with family, Yoongi would be there. Not that you were ever out with friends and family anymore.

It was as though Yoonig was attached to you at the hip.

"To the back garden, are we going to have a problem with that?" You asked snarkily as you turned to look at him. Neither of you got along with one another. Yoongi didn't want to be there any more than you did.

He'd joined Tatsu's family with the intention of getting into the business. Not being someone's personal babysitter.

It was a Sunday which meant Tatsu was out of the house doing lord knows what and you could do whatever you wanted...Within reason.

The man ordered you around like you were his daughter rather than his girlfriend. You didn't have a life outside of Tatsu's world anymore. He'd cut you off from everyone you had loved.

Friends no longer wanted to be around someone who would associate themselves with someone from the underworld. Your family were cut off from you because they disapproved or disrespected Tatsu in some kind of way. It was cut off or be killed and you made the decision to keep your family alive and well.

"You know you have to tell me everywhere you go," Yoongi told you as he watched you standing by the door. Hand clutching onto the handle as if it was your life support.

"Even when I have to go the bathroom? Or what about when I have to leave the house because my boyfriend is cheating on me?"

Yoongi looked at you sadly. It was no secret that Tatsu would cheat on you almost all of the time, he could do whatever he wanted meanwhile you were barely allowed to speak to anyone outside of his social circle. If you went out to parties together you were to sit there and look pretty.

His exact orders. He would give you an expensive dress and accessories before making you sit on a chair all night without speaking to another soul.

"You have to tell me everything and where you at all times." Yoongi stepped into the kitchen to be near you in case you made a sprint for the exit. Not that there was a way out of the back garden. If you had somehow managed to jump the 10-foot brick wall there were dogs around the property.

"Oh, so I'm like your little puppy. You get to take me on walks and feed me." You faked a giant smile on your face but Yoongi wasn't impressed.

"Y/n there's no need for this, we've been through this a million times before." It felt like billions to you. All you wanted to do was get out of this relationship but Tatsu had made it clear there was only one way out and that was in a wooden box in the ground.

"I'll keep going through it until you leave me alone." You grumbled, hand dropping from the handle once you realised he was going to follow you out there. All you wanted to do was go gardening for a little while.

"I can't. I'm paid to look after you." Rolling your eyes you stared at him,

"I'll pay you more"

"We both know you can't." He counted but you just opened the door not stepping out as you turned to Yoongi.

"I'm going to the garden." You grumbled as you walked out of the back door and down towards the greenhouse. Yoongi's eyes widened once he realised you were going toward the greenhouse. The one place he had been ordered to keep you out of.

"Y/n! wait! The boss said not-" He couldn't finish his sentence as you pushed the door to the greenhouse open. Letting out a scream of terror as you saw the blood pooling on the ground coming from a body.

"Is he fucking joking?!" You screamed instantly turning to hide your face in Yoongi's chest as he pulled you out of the greenhouse. His arms wrapping around you as he tried to comfort you, broken sobs leaving your mouth.

Fear crippling as you pictured the dead body lying there on the floor. The greenhouse was your one safe space, the one place you could go without it being ruined by Tatsu's world but that was now gone.

"I was under strict rules not to let you in there." Images of the body flashed into your head over and over again as you pushed Yoongi away from you

"I want to go out." You snapped, needing to do something to get the image of the swollen body from your mind. There was nothing that would ever make you forget the stench of decay or the colour that splattered the floor.

"You're not allowed today," Yoongi spoke as he began following you back into the house.

"Why?" It was a dumb question to which you already knew the answer.

"Because-"

"He said so." You mumbled in unison as you looked to Yoongi a part of you hoped that one-day Yoongi would feel so bad for you he'd let you go.

The only reason you hadn't run away was that Tatsu threatened everyone you loved and told you that he could find you no matter where you were.

"He has left orders for you though,"

"Of course he has," You uttered as you walked towards the grand staircase in the foyer.

"He has left a dress in the guest room, someone will be round to do your hair and makeup," Yoongi told you as you continued to walk up the stairs in silence.

"I'm going to take a bath." You told him as you reached the top of the stairs, turning to face him as he looked up at you.

"Shall I let you know when the stylists have arrived?" You hummed before walking towards your room. It wasn't as though you shared a bedroom with Tatsu, you were just there to look good for him. The two of you hardly spoke a word to one another since the first date. Unless it was him telling you off or speaking about you right in front of you.

Another night another boring party. Sitting in the booth watching as your "boyfriend" dance with other girls, kissed them and bought them drinks. The way in you had been photographed together, his hand practically cutting off your circulation when you had tried to avoid being seen by the cameras.

"Y/n," You glanced at Yoongi who sat down in front of you. Raising an eyebrow at him you wondered why he had come over to you.

"We could play a game?"

"A game?" You questioned a little apprehensive that he was suddenly trying to be nice to you right now.

"Sure, to stop you from being so bored." He seemed to be genuinely trying to make this a better experience for you but it wasn't going to work.

"What do you propose we do?" You looked at him before looking around the room. It wasn't as if you were allowed to get up and dance. What did he expect you to do? Sit and count how many people your boyfriend made out with.

"Eyespy."

"Eyespy what am I, 10?" You questioned him.

"Just, come on." You rolled your eyes before looking around you to see what Yoongi was going to pick for his first go.

"Eyespy something beginning with S." Eyes darted around the room until you saw the giant ice sculpture in the centre of the room.

"Snake." You mumbled as you answered Yoongi, he nodded and waiting for you to go next. Moving to sit beside Yoongi you smiled, nudging into him a little.

"Eye spy with my little eye, something beginning with C.," You said to him as you looked at Tatsu.

It continued on until you found yourself actually having fun with Yoongi. Forgetting for a moment that you were being forced to be at the party.

Giggling a little when you told Yoongi you had found something he was sure you'd never find you looked at him instead of where Tatsu was around the room.

"What are you doing?" Yoongi stood up straight and stared ahead at the crowd as Tatsu spoke with you.

"I was just having fun." You whispered as you looked at him. Swallowing the lump in your throat as you saw his eye twitch, something he did when he was mad.

"You're not here to have fun. You're here to sit there and look good!" He snapped making you flinch as you looked up at him, you never wanted to get on the wrong side of something with Tatsu so you nodded.

"I want you to sit here, alone." He left taking Yoongi with him as he ordered him to stand with the other guards on the other side of the room.

Hours passed by and Tatsu was still speaking with different girls on the dance floor. Letting their bodies brush against his own while you watched from the distance.

Yoongi had been moved to the other side of the room to stop you from talking to him. His eyes still trained to you as you watched Tatsu cheat on you for the ninth time that week. It was like he wanted you to watch as he cheated on you. Yet another powerplay of his.

Was it even a relationship when he was forcing you to be there? You were a captive.

Tatsu's eyes shut as he began to kiss down the woman's neck. It was your chance to break away without him noticing at first glance. Too busy with another woman's lips on his. You knew the bathroom had a window large enough to crawl through and you had a way out of the parking lot of the hotel you were in.

Standing up from the booth you began to make your way through the crowd of people. Pushing yourself past people who were grinding against one another drunkenly. Yoongi frowned when the crowds parted and he could no longer see you sitting where he had left you.

Glancing over your shoulder you made sure Tatsu was still busy before you crashed into the bathroom there was no lock so you had to make quick work of everything.

Kicking off the heels you were wearing before opening the window, glancing out at it. The bathroom was one floor up from the small alleyway below you. The height wasn't enough to hurt yourself and the window opened just enough for you to get through so you began pushing yourself through the gap.

Whimpering when you hit the pavement one floor below you. Digging through the front of your dress to grab the keys you had swiped from Yoongi.

Yoongi panicked as he saw you weren't in the room anymore, his eyes darted towards the exit. There was no way you had gone out of there since there were three guards there the whole time.

"What's going on?" Someone asked into the speaker in his ear.

"Yoongi left his post." Another said.

"Accompanying Y/n to the bathroom." He hissed as he walked towards the bathroom door, knocking on it and waiting for you to shout at him for following you but you didn't. There was no sound from inside of the room. That made him freak even more. Normally you would scream some kind of verbal abuse at him for following you to the bathroom.

"Y/n?" He called out moving into the room only to find your shoes on the ground. Bending down he picked them up and looked at the window.

"Shit." He walked back out calmly making sure no one was watching him as he headed for the exit. You probably went for air. You had to have gone for air. if you were gone he'd bed dead.

Roaring to life the motorbike engine you smiled as you finally saw your way out. Yoongi's motorcycle. You mentally thanked him for playing eye spy with you earlier in the night. It was the only way you could have ever gotten the keys to his bike.

"Y/n." Your head span to look at Yoongi who was staring at you from the alleyway.

"Don't," He warned as you put your leg over the seat and began to rev the engine. There was no going back. You were going. No one was going to stop you.

Taking in a deep breath you began to ride down the road, Yoongi racing after you as he watched you closely, weaving in and out of cars that were in your way. You weren't speeding just going a little over the limit when you saw a car that belonged to one of Tatsu's men coming your way.

"Fuck!" You screamed halting to a stop and racing to get down one of the small alleys without being seen but a man crossed the road making you scream. Your hand pressed frantically on the break causing you and the bike to skid into the alleyway.

Yoongi raced to you, praying that neither the driver nor passenger in Tatsu's car had seen that it was you on the bike. Did he think you weren't going to get seen? You were wearing a designer lace dress wearing one of the most expensive necklaces in the entire world.

"Y/n." He hissed pulling you to hide in the alley as he looked at you. Your leg had a cut on your calf but it didn't look as though it was going to cause you any kind of distress.

"Leave me alone." You begged him as you began to cry heavily, the thought of going back to Tatsu killing you inside. There wasn't anything that could make you go back into that building. You were through being the girl who was there to make him look good.

"Leave me alone, I need to get away." You begged with him to leave you, hitting his chest as he continued holding you tightly in his arms.

"Tell him I escaped. Tell him I died. Let me go." You pleaded with him. Each plea breaking Yoongi more and more as he listened to the desperation in your voice.

"Y/n I can't." He told you as he rocked you a little in his arms, doing his best to ignore the aching inside of him to take you away from everything.

"Give me some time to get away." Turning to look up at him he stared at you as he saw the pain in your eyes. That was the sign he needed to get you out of there.

"Go home. Pack light." He whispered as he stood you up, looking at your leg as he checked it out. Nothing bad that warranted a trip to a doctor. Nothing that can't be fixed by him when he gets you somewhere safe.

"What?" You sniffled as you looked at him, wondering what he was talking about.

"For once Y/n, please just do as you're told." You nodded at him as he pressed the earpiece on his ear.

"I'm taking Y/n home, she's sick." He spoke out to the other guards, you knew that Tatsu would either stay in the hotel with the girl he was with or find somewhere so you didn't have to worry about that. Yoongi looked at you before walking with you towards his bike. Standing it up once again, giving you a helmet from the seat hatch.

"Put this on and hold onto my waist." He whispered to you as he sat on the seat.

"Where are we going?" You panicked as you watched Yoongi shoving your clothes into a backpack that you had given to him. He'd changed into black jeans and a hoodie from his room in the house. Throwing some of his own clothes in the bag with yours.

"Change." He ordered as he looked at you, you were still standing there in the dress. Reaching to you he unclasped the necklace and laid it out onto the dressing table. Maybe if Tatsu saw that you had nothing of his he would let you get off easy. At least that was what Yoongi was hoping would happen.

"Bring something he wouldn't expect you to wear." He ordered again as you grabbed some ripped blue jeans, a black top with a blue jean jacket. Taking the clothes from your hands he pushed them into the bag.

"Change into something he would expect. Hurry." You could hear the panic in his voice as you rushed to the bathroom changing just as quickly as he had told you to.

Yoongi had all of the cash he had available to him. Around ₩1250000 he'd saved up and stashed in his room away from Tatsu.

"What are you going to do?" You questioned as he began pulling you down the stairs. This was the most panicked you'd ever seen Yoongi become and you had no question to rationalise what was happening and what he had planned for you both.

Yoongi said nothing as he began pulling you out of the front door and looking around. Guards were changing at the shifts. It gave you ten minutes to get out without being seen.

"Get on. Hold on." He ordered as he revved the engine of his bike. You sat behind him, hands clutching around his waist as he began to ride down the road. Helmets masking who you were for a little while but he knew it wasn't going to be enough. Yoongi was already one step ahead of everything that was going in his mind. He had a plan, he had no idea if it was going to work but he was going to try.

Just as you got outside of Seoul he stopped in a random parking bay on an empty road.

"What are we doing?!" You panicked looking at him as he began handing you clothes. The clothes he'd told you to bring that Tatsu wouldn't expect you to wear.

"Change. It's the middle of the night, no one is going to see." He mumbled as he bent down beside his boke and began to take off the plate.

"That illegal." You sniffled not realising that you were crying until you let out a small cry. Yoongi stared at you,

"Do you want to get away or not!?" He snapped harshly at you, not wanting to be rude but needing to get on the move as quickly as you both could. You nodded changing as he switched the plates around.

The two of you needed to get out of Seoul as quickly as humanly possible, it was only going to get you some time to be away from Tatsu. Before he and his men noticed you weren't at home.

"Yoongi?" You whispered as you watched him standing back up, he'd changed into a leather jacket and some jeans. Both of you in new clothes and new plates on the bike and yet he still hadn't told you what the plan was.

"We're heading back into the town. We need to get seen by cameras, this way it'll look like we went towards Busan on my bike but this is a new bike, new plates. He won't think to check it yet." He explained as he got onto the bike, your arms wrapped around his waist. You were trusting someone you previously hated and gave shit to.

"Where are we really going?" You asked him before he started the engine. It wasn't as if you could talk while it was running.

"Damyang."

"Whats in Damyang?" You questioned.

"My parents. I can get us more money, I can get supplies and from there we're on the run." Everything felt as though it was moving at 100mph.

"We?"

"You think he won't kill me for letting you go. Yes, we." He looked at you over his shoulder to see if that was okay and you nodded.

"We." You agreed as he started the engine. Driving out back into town as you kept your head resting on his back. Praying that this was going to work somehow. That Tatsu was going to leave you alone or at least have no idea where you were.

The middle of nowhere was where you had landed together the next day. Broad daylight and Yoongi decided to stop in some dingy motel.

"We can stay here for now." He explained as he came out of a small office holding a key to a room.

"Motel room for the night," You laughed as you looked at it. There had to be some kind of trap to this,

"Do you think I'm stupid?! You're going to tell him where to find us." You screamed out in a panic but he yanked you into the room and shook his head. Covering your mouth with his hand so that you didn't draw unwanted attention to one another. Daylight was going to be the worst time for you both. It was easy for you to be spotted, at least if you slept through the days and moved only at night it would be easier.

"No. The bike is hidden. We have to draw the curtains." He mumbled as he began shutting everything up. Blocking the door with one of the chairs that were in the room, adding a table so that you would hear if someone tried the door handle.

The two of you alone in a room with one bed, it was like something out o a cheesy romance novel.

"How long we will be like this?" You questioned as you sank down onto the floor at the foot of the bed.

"Forever probably...You know what he's like." He whispered as he sat down on the floor at the end of the bed with you. You looked at him. For the first time since the night before you realised how badly this was all going to affect his life and not just yours anymore.

"I'm sorry. I-I never should have made you do this-"

"Made me? Y/n I did this because I could see how much pain you were in. How badly you needed out of there...It wasn't right for him to do this." You looked at him sitting closer to him as you nodded. Seeing him in a whole new light because he showed you a simple act of kindness.

"I promise he'll never hurt you or come near you...We can run forever." You smiled weakly before leaning forward and kissing him softly.

"Thank you." You breathed out, leaning your head on his shoulder and closing your eyes and for the first time in ever sleeping peacefully through the day.

Yoongi came around with the bike and looked at you as you stood out in the middle of the pathway. Middle of the night and you were just standing there, taking in the air and the scenery around you.

"What are you doing?" He questioned watching you standing there. Arms spread as you took in deep breaths as if it was the last time you were ever going to do this but it was the opposite reason. It was the first time you were allowed to be out in the open like this. No guards, no rules, no restrictions.

"We're free...I-I don't have to be ordered around." You whispered as you looked at him, he was smiling the most you'd ever seen him smile ever. It was one of the cutest smiles you'd ever seen, such a cute gummy bear smile.

"I can be me...I don't have to listen to someone telling me to sit and be quiet." You breathed out tears rushing down your cheeks as you realised just how free you were now. Yoongi wiped your face with his thumb and smiled, kissing your lips softly. You smiled against his lips as you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck until he pulled back from you.

"Get on." He whispered as he got onto the bike first and steadied himself.

He drove off. Your arms in the air as you let the wind rush over you both enjoying the newfound freedom that you had.

"Drive," You laughed to Yoongi as you climbed into the backseat of the truck that Yoongi was waiting inside of. A year on the run and you were still going. Motel rooms in the day, driving in the night. With the two of you awake in the night, it was as though you were the only ones in the world. Just the two of you against the world.

"Did you get seen?" He asked a little panicked when he saw a man rushing after the car. You climbed through to the front seat and shook your head.

"No, he was asking for my number so I bolted," Yoongi smirked as he ran his hand up your thigh giving it a small squeeze.

"That's my girl." He chuckled as he began heading towards the motorway, the next stop on your list was Geoje. You were going to keep driving until you found a motel or until daytime came around. Whichever came by first.

"I told you to pay for the gas and get out," Yoongi laughed as you looked out behind you. The man was waving you back as you shook your head at Yoongi.

"Not my fault I'm irresistible." You joked as he quickly turned to you, kissing you softly before he looked back at the road.

"That you are." He breathed out as he continued driving. The bike had been traded for the old beat-up truck Yoongi had gotten from an elderly man in Daegu when you were there. Another way to lose any traces of you if Tatsu had any of them. The truth was neither of you knew if anyone was watching you or following you but it was fun being on the run. Just the two of you in the whole world. Moving at night so it felt like you were alone and had the world to yourselves. Your days in the motel rooms were spent playing board games, card games, watching tv or just spending one on one time with one another. The two of you had developed a growing relationship with one another. There was no one else you wanted other than Yoongi.

"Hey," You whispered as you pulled up to a red light. He glanced at you and you took his chin into your finger and thumb. Kissing him sweetly before pulling away when the light was green.

"Drive," You giggled looking out of the window at everything that was passing you. Everything looked so much prettier at night. You didn't know or want to know what life had in store for you, all you cared about was having Yoongi with you throughout it all. The two of you against the world.

Tagline: @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @rjsmochii @taestannie @sw33tnight @sweeneyblue1 @jin-from-the-block @acciocriativity @mwitsmejk @taeechwitaa @justbangtanthingz @stillwithlix @min-yus

#bts #bts x reader #bts x you #bts x y/n #bts imagine #bts imagines #min yoongi #yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi imagine #yoongi imagines #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi imagine #min yoongi imagines

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xlovelyyoongix · 3 years

Text

playing the part | myg

summary: On set, Yoongi was your enemy but off set, he was your secret lover. 18+

prompt: y/n is the star of an action movie and Yoongi is her enemy. While they hate each other in the movie, they genuinely like spending time with each other in real life.

genre: action, angst, smut, fluff

warnings: violence, guns, fist fighting, near-death experience, swearing, unprotected sex (please be safe yall) female receiving, stimulation while being penetrated, creampie, aftercare, and feelings that can’t be said out loud.

w/c: 4k

Rating: 18+

a/n: I was initially going to post this at the very beginning of the year, but I ended up getting sick and testing positive for covid-19. (please don’t worry about me. I’m feeling much better now 😊) But a few of my followers have been asking about me since I haven’t posted in a while, so I figured I’d give everyone a quick update. I’m glad to be back and happy to be working on all of my WIPs I have planned for the month. Please everyone, social distance, wear your masks, and stay safe. Happy reading 💕

"I'm done playing games with you." Your furious words bouncing off the walls of the abandoned warehouse as the weight of your pistol points directly at the male standing in front of you. "Hand over the money, or I'll put a hole in your head," Your finger seconds away from the trigger.

Yoongi chuckles, a cocky smirk stretching across his lips. "You won't shoot me-"

BANG

Before Yoongi ever had the chance of completing his sentence, the melody of your warning shot echoes, causing a vibration of whitenoise to jolt the walls of your inner eardrums. Missing on purpose, the bullet still managed to graze Yoongi’s skin, a thin line of blood trickling down his cheek.

Yoongi snickers at your attempt to frighten him while wiping away the blood that stained his flesh. "Why waste a bullet when you could have easily taken my life?" His words oozing arrogance as his body strutted forward, emptying the gap between the two of you. "Is it because you don't have the strength to kill the man you love?" He taunts wickely, onyx eyes peering into yours.

With Yoongi being this close in proximity, the muscles in your body begin to tense, jaw clenching tightly as your sweaty hands gripped the handle of your gun. "Shut up!" You shout, not allowing him to use your emotions against you.

Yoongi observes your hesitant behavior, licking his bottom lip enticingly. "How about I make it easier, so you don't miss next time, hm." He sarcastically hums, gripping the barrel of your gun to position the weapon against the flat of his forehead. "I've done the hard part; now, all you have to do is shoot, baby girl." He mocks with the pet name he once called you.

It was at this intense moment, you begin to regret it all. Accepting a job that required your feminine charm to seduce a drug lord that just so happened to owe your client an uber amount of money. You've done it before, sleeping with the enemy only to assassinate them by morning, so why was Yoongi so different? Why was this so hard?

Was it the luxurious dates? His charming smile? Unworldly sex? You don't really remember, only knowing that somewhere along that line, loving him was no longer pretend. "I said, Shut up!" You shake your head in hopes of ridding your brain of all the useless memories that only made your job harder.

"FUCKIN' DO IT!" Yoongi shouts through clenched teeth as his grip around the barrow of your gun tightens.

Flinching with your eyes shut, your finger pulls the trigger, producing another loud bang that causes your wrist to jerk from the power of the gun. Your heart drops at the sound, and you're afraid to open your eyes, knowing the second you do, your vision will be met with your lover in a pool of his own blood.

"Fuck, you were actually gonna kill me that time, huh?"

The sound of Yoongi’s voice causes your lashes to jolt open, shocked that the man was still alive and well, standing before you. It was then you notice your weapon carrying, hand being pinned above your head. The swift bastard must have trapped you in the second before you pulled the trigger. "I have a job to do, and I won't let feelings get in the way of my mission." You announce proudly, but more so to convince yourself than anything else.

Yoongi clicks his tongue at your response. "Is that so?" Taking advantage of your pinned position, he stares your body down with an almost hungry eye. Your smooth skin glistening with sweat, large eyes that seemed to out shine the moon, delectable lips slightly parted to breathe, and a leather body suit that hugged every heavenly curve; curves he was once oh so familiar with. But, it was also in that moment Yoongi realized, despite the lustful infatuation that pulled him towards you, he'd be damned if he let anyone take his life. "I'll just have to kill you first then."

Before you could react to Yoongi's threat, his stealthy foot sweeps from under you, knocking you off your balance. Your body collides into the ground, gun sliding across the cold concrete. "Shit!" You eye down the weapon, collecting your balance once again to dart towards the object but Yoongi's headstart nearly beats you to it.

He takes the chance to reach down to grab the pistol -possibly to use it to end your life- but your survival instincts emerge, causing your body to fling forward, tackling Yoongi like a linebacker on a football field. "Son of a..." He sneers at the weight of your body straddling his waist, fist flying forward to attack his face. Blocking your attacks, Yoongi grows frustrated with how long the altercation has lasted. "Okay, baby girl, this ends now." Grunting, Yoongi uses his upper body strength to flip you, landing on your back as his heavy body pins you in.

For a short moment, Yoongi takes the time to admire your beauty. Messy hair splattered around your glistening face, chest heaving in attempt to collect your breath and cheeks an exhausted pink. "You're so fuckin beautiful..." But as soon as the soft words left his lips, a hand reached behind his back, removing a silver gun from it’s holster. “Which is why it pains me to do this.” Cocking the weapon, Yoongi presses the hold metal to your temple. "But before you go, say one last thing for me."

You struggled with all your might to wiggle yourself from under Yoongi, but his masculine weight bore you to struggle. You also attempted to reach for your gun, only half an inch away, but it was to no avail. "What?" You question back with a sneer, but not because you actually care -or maybe you do- but more so to buy you some time before your death.

Yoongi snickers, leaning in to ghost his devilish smirk over your swollen lips. "Tell me, it wasn't all fake." His jet eyes begin to soften as the pad of his thumb caresses your cheek. "Tell me, you love me."

Your heart skips a beat but not because of the adrenaline spiking through your veins, but because even after everything, the fights, the betrayal, his heavy gun pressed to your temple, you still loved him. In an ordinary world, you'd be considered a psychopath for falling for a drug lord, but you didn't live in the real world. You were a hitman, and with your busy schedule and the blood of your enemies permanently staining your psyche, there was no room for traditional romance. You convince yourself that was the reason for your undeniable infatuation towards the blonde-haired male, just a girl yearning to finally feel the warmth of love. "Go fuck yourself." It pains you to say it, but in the end, you'd rather die with pride than with the taste of affection on your tongue.

Yoongi winces at your aggressive words towards him. Despite his rugged exterior, he was capable of feelings, and he did love you. He loved you more than any woman he'd ever laid eyes on. Being in this predicament indeed penetrated his heart so deep, he doubted he'd ever recover. "That's a shame." Regaining his stern demeanor, Yoongi clenches his jaw and positions his index above the trigger. "Goodbye, baby girl." A second away from ending your life, the two of you are interrupted by a loud shout.

"CUT!" The director whistles the alarm, and the once dark warehouse illuminates with bright fluorescent lights, bringing the scene to a complete stop. "That's a wrap for tonight, folks," he calls from behind a row of cameramen. "I want everyone back on set first thing in the morning. We'll be finishing up the final scene of the movie tomorrow" The stage and camera crew breaking out in applause at the work that was completed.

With the scene finally over, Yoongi pulls himself from on top of you, kindly extending his arm to assist you up with an eyeing smirk.

"You're fuckin heavy, you know that?" You harshly joke, taking his hand to accept the offer to help you up.

"That's funny," Yoongi's voice dripped with seduction, using his strength to whisk your body into his chest. His soft lips ghosting over the shell of your ear to whisper, "You weren't complaining about my weight last night-."

"Shhh!" Your hand cups over Yoongi's mouth, shushing him before anyone could witness his handsy flirtation. "You know better than to act like this on set." You arch your brow, matter-a-factly.

Yoongi parts his lips to respond but was interrupted by his makeup team stepping on set. "Mr. Min, let's get you cleaned up and ready to go." Politely placing her hand on Yoongi's back, she guides him along before he could get a chance to say good-bye.

A slight giggle escapes past your lips as you watch Yoongi being dragged offset by his team. Your eyes begin to feel heavy for the need of rest, and your throat produces a yawn. Exhausted, you head towards the direction of your makeup team, ready to escape to the confines of your trailer for the night.

1:30 in the morning is when you're finally able to leave set and head back to your trailer for the night. Stepping out of the shower and into your silk robe, you examine your body in the fogged mirror, muscles sore from stunts -you swore to your director you didn't need a double for- and bags under your eyes being the evidence of long working hours. You couldn't complain though you loved your job, the excitement, the thrill, everything that came with being an actress, and you wouldn't trade it for the world.

A small knock at your trailer door interrupts your thoughts, wondering who it could be at an hour like this. Possibly the director wanting to go over tomorrow's scene? Curious, you peek through the blinds, but not surprised by who you see. A smile slips across your cheeks as you open the door, revealing a handsome blond-haired male standing before you. "I think you're lost." You playfully tease, pointing to the row of luxury trailers in the distance. "Your lodging is that way."

Yoongi smirks at your sarcastic facade, playing along to entertain your ploy. "No,." He quickly replies, walking up the steps to your trailer until standing directly under you. "I think I'm in the right place." His large hands slip across the silk of your robe, finding their favorite spot on your hips while seductive eyes peak at the curves of your cleavage.

"Is that so?" You question, arching a tempting brow, "So, what is an A-list Actor doing at my trailer so late into the night?" Your fingers trickle to the nape of Yoongi's neck, dancing circles across his ivory skin.

"Well." Yoongi's nose slowly dips across the curve of your neck, getting a tasteful whiff of your natural scent before his pink lips ghost over the shell of your ear. "I came to fuck my co-star."

Yoongi's daring confession causes a vibrating tingle to spike throughout your body, increasing the lustful heat growing between your thighs. Surrendering to the fervor your body craved, your plush lips crash into his, with tongues beginning to dance together in harmony. Lost in the passion, your hand locates Yoongi's collar, pulling him into your trailer, and with a swift kick, he closes the door behind him.

The actor wastes no time shoving you against the counter of your tiny kitchen, large hands fiddling with the lace of your robe. Your silk falls around you, pooling to the floor, unveiling the flawless secrets of your womanly beauty. "Fuck." Yoongi nearly growls at the sight of smooth skin, supple breasts, and voluptuous curves. "I've been waiting for this all day." He could barely finish his sentence before his hungry lips were attacking your neck, teeth nibbling and sucking the flesh while wandering hands located your nipple to tease.

"Y-Yoongi." You whimper from his touch, body arching off the counter to welcome his ardors actions. "R-remember not to bruise me, okay." If it were up to you, you wouldn't complain about the trademark evidence Yoongi liked to leave throughout your body, but things spread fast in the media. You couldn't risk a 'dating scandal'; in the middle of shooting a major motion picture movie, the press would eat you alive.

"Shit, forgot, sorry." He mutters an apology, loosening his hold on your breast and trailing succulent kisses down your abdomen. "Guess I'll just have to leave hickies where people can't see them." A flash of greedy lust shimmers in Yoongi's eyes the moment he hoists your thigh over his shoulder. His mouth nearly watering at the glorious sight before him. "So fuckin' wet for me already." Teeth sink into his bottom lip enticingly, witnessing your glistening arousal coating over your heated sex. "Makes me wanna taste it." Yoongi's crafty tongue darts out, sliding between wet folds until lapping across a sensitive bundle of nerves that causes your body to weaken.

"Fuck, Yoon...," You could barely finish your sentence as Yoongi's ambush on your needy clit caused you to fall mute. Your hand gripping onto the actor's shoulder, rolling your hips into his mouth to ride out your delectable pleasure. "M-more,"

Knowing precisely what you desired, Yoongi slowly inserts two digits deep into your soaking walls. The second he hears your breathy moan, his fingers curl at just the right angle, locating the spongy surface responsible for your g-spot. "Mhmm," You're a wiggling mess, so Yoongi uses his free hand to hold your hips in place while his mouth sucks up your clitoris once again.

"Shit~." The delicious stretch of his fingers and stimulation on your nub causes the muscles within your abdomen to tighten. With your body preparing for an orgasm, your fingers move on their own to lock in Yoongi's thick hair, guiding him to where you need most. "B-baby, c-close." Words frantically falling from your trembling lips.

Taking note of your approaching release, Yoongi stiffens his tongue, lapping figure 8s around your pink nub to send your body into overdrive. His thick fingers thrusting into your walls, producing creamy arousal that dripped onto his knuckles. Yoongi absolutely loved watching you like this, legs wobbling like jello, skin glistening with sweat, pretty lips moaning his name. He took pride in witnessing you being a fucked-out mess. His own personal, fucked-out mess. "Cum, baby."

As if on demand by Yoongi's words, the tightness within your abdomen bursts, body tensing as the magic of euphoria courses through your veins. "Y-Yoon-, fuck~" Lashes slamming shut as an assortment of circling colors rupture behind your eyelids. Your body rides out it's sinful high only for your body to fall limp moments after.

The evidence of your orgasm drips between your thighs as Yoongi carefully removes his digits from inside you. Standing to his feet, his tongue licks the last of your arousal that lingered on his fingers, always making sure your lovely juice never went to waste. "Fuckin delicious." He smirks devilishly, hungry eyes peering down at your exhausted state.

You can barely catch your breath as your hazed vision attempts to focus on the handsome man before you. His thick brow wickedly arched, jet eyes glowing with ungodly lust as the corner of his lips curls smugly. An expression that only meant Yoongi wanted more. "Ready for my dick now, babygirl?" He's quick to make haste of his shirt, tossing it someplace behind him and stepping out of the thick material of his jeans.

You gulp anxiously at Yoongi's erotic words, curious eyes trailing down the curves of his abdomen in awe as if you haven't seen his immaculate body 100 times before. "Mhm." You reply with a hum, teeth sinking into your lip while impatiently waiting for the reveal of his sturdy dick.

Yoongi chuckles at your minimalistic response, dropping his boxers to unveil the erect curve of his fat length. Stroking up the base of his impressive dick, leaning into your ear to whisper, "You know I need to hear you say it." His warm breath causes an array of goosebumps to accumulate across your skin, a delightful shiver slithering up your spine. "Tell me what you want."

Having moved between your legs, Yoongi's mushroom tip begins to tease against your folds. "I-I," Your lashes flutter as the heat of desire begins to spiral within you, as if you hadn't already experienced a powerful orgasm a few moments prior. "I want you to..." You mew, Yoongi positioned his tip at the soaking hole of your entrance, knocking you from your train of thought.

He grins smugly at your expression, always taking delight to taunting your body. "Tell me what you want me to do, or I'll stop-"

Knowing better than to keep Yoongi waiting, you nearly shout. "I want you to fuck me, Yoongi!" You sound needy, but that's beyond your worries. Your body wanted him, your aching pussy craving him, and if you had to play the part to get what you wanted, so be it.

Not giving you a second to breathe, Yoongi's fat tip thrusts into your wet core. "Fuck~" You both curse in unison, you because of the delectable stretch that made your pussy full and Yoongi due to your drenched walls tightening around his girth.

"Mhm, Yoons~." You whimper at the sting of his stretched entrance, but you absolutely love the feeling. How his dick fits perfectly snug within your walls, the throbbing of protruding veins and his oozing tip teasing at your moist cervix. You often fantasized about staying in this position forever. Having Yoongi live, deep inside you as time passed the both of you by; then again, you're also dying for him to bang your brains out. "Baby, please." You plead for him to start moving inside you.

With your tight pussy finally adjusted to his size, Yoongi's large hand's grip at your hips, beginning an easy pace in and out of your core. "Shit~" His teeth clench, hissing at the heavenly sensation of your narrow walls sucking at his length. "You're so wet and warm. Always taking my dick so well."

Your lashes begin to flutter at the sensation of Yoongi's fat tip massaging at the area of your g-spot. "All for you~." You purr, scooting as close to the edge of the counter as possible, craving for his inches to reach further inside you. "Please," With brows furrowed together beggingly, eyes screaming for him to go faster.

Observing your desperate expression, Yoongi knew it was time for him to pick up the pace. He grips at your thighs, placing your legs around his waist while positioning his hips at the angle that could explore deeper into your slit. "Ah, shhhhhit." He hissed at the pleasure, hips beginning to snap in and out of your sopping core at an autopilot speed.

Your nails pierce into the flesh of Yoongi's shoulders, holding on as he pounded into you. With your neck lulled back, your head knocks into the shelf with every swift jap he punctures in, but you don't care. Your skin is on fire, and your pretty pussy, utterly addicted to the pleasurable attack. "Feels good," You hum, eyes locking down on the pornographic scene of your creamy slick lubing Yoongi's shaft as his dick pleasantly stretches in and out of your entrance. "Wanna cum all over your pretty dick, Yoon." You plee, lips in the form of a pout.

Your whimpering need causes a carnal temptation to spike within the actor, producing the adrenaline he needed to please your every desire. "So cum, baby." His veiny hand slipping between your thighs, swiping across your clit while pounding into you.

"Oh, god," You moan—the attack on your sensitive nub precisely what you need to feel the pressure building within your core. "Fuck, baby," Your legs gripping tighter around his waist, encouraging him to keep up the speed that slammed into your cervix.

"So fuckin' wet." A throaty moan escapes Yoongi's lips, your walls sucking tightly around his girth as he fucked into you deeper. He could feel the familiar ball of tension tightening within his core, dick becoming increasingly sensitive upon the approach of his release." y/n," breath staggering in his throat as he grunts your name. "Fuck~, gonna cum soon." Glistening sweat pearling across his creamy skin, with jet eyes glossed with desire.

Your hips rock forward, matching the devilish speeds of Yoongi's thrusts as your eyes lock on him. The ends of his blonde hair paste to his steamy skin, lips, pink and swollen, and dumpling cheeks a rosy fluster. The expression in his glass orbs screamed that he was close. "Me too," you moan with arching feet and toes beginning to curl. "Cum inside,"

"Shiiiiiit," Despret to oblige your request, Yoongi continues his powerful ruts, the erotic sounds of your wet pussy guiding him. He could feel the muscles throughout his body starting to flex along with the anticipating tingle of his ballsack, begging to release its load. "B-baby I,..." His thrust becomes sloppy, and the tight grip he has on your hips causes his knuckles to whitein. He would explode any second.

Even with his body tense, Yoongi doesn't let up the massage on your clit. Only speeding his swift swipes on your throbbing nub, sending spikes of electricity zapping throughout your body. "Y-y-y-Yoon...., g-gonna~," and just like that, an euphoric explosion happens within your core, blasting you into ecstasy. "FUCK!" Your back arches, your head lulls back, and the muscles within your wet walls clench around Yoongi's dick, sucking him in for dear life.

"___, g-gonna..." With one final thrust, Yoongi's pulsing dick shoots warm coats of cum into your core. His throat releases a horse grunt, eyes rolling back, and breath getting caught in his throat ."Hmm," He hums at the peaceful feeling, the pent up stress of a long workday finally vacating his body. "Fuck, you're pussy's so good." He chuckles, eyes fluttering open to witness your sweaty body stretched out across the counter, swollen pussy leaking his creamy cum.

Your exhausted body doesn't stop a smirk from slipping across your flustered cheeks. "You're dick's so good." responding to Yoongi's complement, chest heaving for air.

A gummy grin pulls across Yoongi's lips in observance of you. Your messy hair pooled around your face, skin lushly glossed, and large dewy eyes that expressed your body's satisfaction. You meant the absolute world to Yoongi, and being with you on and off set was the best year of his life. Getting to watch you grow as an actress and putting your best foot forward every day. You were Yoongi's muse, his love. "I'll clean you up." He runs a paper napkin under the warm fouset, placing the dampness across all the places between your thighs he left a mess.

You watch Yoongi in awe with your heart fluttering in your chest. It was clear the growing spark between the two of you was more than just sexual tension. You saw the way he'd sneak cute glances at you on set, how he'd be the first one to make sure you were alright after an intense stunt. You want to confess that you love him, that he meant more to you than just a person to fuck. But, the time wasn't right. The two of you still had a job that needed to be done. "Hey." Your small voice, grabbing Yoongi's attention. Instead of saying, I love you, you say, "Good luck on set tomorrow."

However, Yoongi finds the truth in your soft eyes, making it clear you held the exact same feelings that he harbored to himself for the past year. "Yeah," There wasn't a need for him to say much; he knows that you know the truth of his heart. "Good luck to you too."

date posted: 1/8/2021

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