#I’ve never tried fruit in jello | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

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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30secondstoanime · 3 years

Text

The Birthday Present

pairing: Pro!Hero Midoriya x Fem!Reader

genre/warnings: Reader Insert, Birthday Sex

Kinky Midoriya Izuku, Midoriya Izuku Gets Out of His Comfort Zone, That's Not How You're Supposed to Use Your Quirk, Porn With Plot, praise kink?, very smutty, Rough Sex, role-playing, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Teasing, Light Bondage, Light Masochism, Light Choking, Doggy Style, Fluff and Smut, after sex cuddles

word count: 7,467

→ summary: Your birthday is around the corner. What better gift than your boyfriend, the #1 Hero Deku, finally giving you what you want the way you want it: rough and kinky. But first plot!

a/n: Sorry about the crap summary and title, I'm working on that lol. So this is my first fic for the bnha fandom and first attempt at writing very explicit sex scenes and venturing into kinks/BDSM, so please be kind, but also I’d love feedback! This was supposed to be a cute four-page oneshot but turned into a sixteen-page, 7k+ word behemoth, hence the self-indulgent tag ‘cause I couldn't stop writing. I hope you enjoy the fruits of my labor ;)

In a few days, you’ll be turning twenty-four. Your birthday has always been an odd day you think for someone with your quirk because age really was just a number. That’s not to say you weren’t planning to do something fun, at least if you could figure out what you’d like to do. Okay, so that was a lie. You knew exactly what or should you say who you wanted to do and that it involved getting your back blown out. As soon as the thought pops into your head, your epiglottis forgets its job, and you choke on the sip of UCC coffee, you had tried to swallow. You cough to clear your airway, gasping when air finally expands your lungs. You tap your pen nervously against your desk, eyes scanning the other pro heroes’ faces in your agency. It seems your sudden outburst hadn’t disrupted the comfortable silence of the natural lull of the workday. A beep from your hero pager pulls your attention away from people watching in the office. Coordinates flash in five consecutive seconds before the transmission ends. You stand grabbing your toolbelt and strapping it across your hips; you make your way to the front. As you near the exit, you hear your hero name being called. You turn and see Yaomomo briskly walking towards you.

“Hey Creati, you got the page too?”

“I did, sounds like they’ve made a bit of a mess of things.” You scoff good-naturedly.

“When do they ever not. Were they really like this during your time at U.A.?” She giggles and nods her head. You wonder if you’ll ever stop cleaning up after the nation’s top three heroes.

“Better get going then, we both know they share a singular brain cell, so there’s no telling how much time we have to fix things.”

“Atomic!” You laugh at Yaomomo’s weak attempt to scold you — the amusement in her black eyes softens the tone.

−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−

“Oh my.”

You blow out a low whistle. Ice and scorch marks are scattered across the street and surrounding buildings. Explosive ash is still gently falling from the sky, and black tendrils are haphazardly keeping electric poles, exposed building foundation, and an abundance of wrecked vehicles from collapsing.

“Creati, check the building foundations. Create new beams and weld them together if necessary. I’ll get started on the pole, we can’t have a live electric wire falling.” She nods, and you split off. The work is slow and arduous, but the orderly nature of reorganizing and coaxing atomic particles back into place helps the time pass quickly. You’ve just finished rearranging the anatomical structure of a car hanging from a, thankfully, undamaged light pole, so that it falls to the ground weightlessly. You touch the damaged side, pull it back together, and return the car to its original density. You give the car a quick tap with the toe of your foot to test the structural integrity, satisfied you step back taking in your handiwork. What had a few hours ago looked like a DEFCON 3 military mission gone awry is now back to looking like an ordinary Japanese street. Well, as normal as you and Yaomomo could reconstruct — you weren’t miracle workers, and Ground Zero’s explosive residue was hard to get rid of. Instead, the way it collected and hung in the atmosphere made it difficult for your quirk to erase without condensing the air. That was out of the question unless you wanted to suffocate Yaomomo. Which you didn’t, so the employees of these buildings would be dealing with the smell for at least a week. Sighing, you tuck your hands in your pockets and make your way over to Creati. Her welding mask obscures her face, but you know it’s in deep concentration. After she cuts the torch and pushes the protective gear up, she gives you a smile.

“All done?”

“Just about.”

“I’ll page H.Q. Might even lodge a formal complaint against those three bird brains while I’m at it.”

“(Y/N), you can’t be serious.” She shoots you an incredulous look.

“They make this huge ass mess and don’t even bother to wait for us to arrive before dipping. Total dick move.”

“Ah-huh.” You don’t like the teasing note in her voice.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing.” You cross your arms defensively.

“Spit it out, Yaoyorozu.”

“You sure your foul attitude has nothing to do with not seeing Deku?” You roll your eyes.

“I’ll see him at home like I do every day. So no, I’m not upset about not seeing him.”

“If you say so.” She gives you a look, and you let out an exasperated puff of air.

“You cannot still be stuck on that!”

“Hmm? What do you mean?” She bats her eyes at you innocently while creating a duffle bag to transport the welding equipment.

“That God awful theory you and Ashido have about me having a hero kink for Izuku." You begin to walk side by side back to the agency. You hand her an energy bar from your utility belt.

“I mean, you do get very flushed whenever you see him on patrol. Like, if it were a hentai video, you’d definitely be drooling with your tongue lolling out of your mouth.”

“Ugh!” You shove her with your shoulder. “That is so gross.” Both of you laugh, and after a small lapse into silence, you give.

“Okay fine. I might get instahorny whenever I see Izuku in costume, but I can’t help it. He just looks so good, and it’s heightened because I know what he looks like out of costume, and then all I want to do is jump his bones, but of course, I don’t because propriety. So I’m left with all this pent up sexual frustration!”

“So, are you going to ever mention this to him? Your birthday is in a few days and if I may be so bold —”

“It’s never stopped you.” You mumble under your breath with a smile.

“I’d suggest you request it be your birthday present.”

“Pfft. Yaomomo, we’ve been together almost a year and a half, and while our sex life is fucking phenomenal, I’m talking multiple orgasms almost every time, amazing — it’s been very strictly vanilla. Not from any lack of trying on my end, but every time I’ve tried to spice things up, he gets as close as humanly possible to spontaneous combustion. Don’t even get me started on the one time I tried to get him to choke me while I —”

“(Y/N)! Stop, goodness, I do not need the play by play of your and Izuku’s sex life. I just,” she massages her temples, “wanted to make a suggestion. While I’m relieved you feel so secure in our friendship to be so open, please remember I went to high school with him. He’s like a little brother.”

“Oh, Yaomomo, there’s nothing little about him.” Her face pales, and you can’t stifle your cackle. It quickly becomes a full-blown laugh that rattles through your body.

“I went a little too far with that last comment, gomen. On a serious note, though, how would I even go about asking him? ‘Hey babe, it’s my birthday so I want you to fuck me until my knees are jello while in your hero costume because it gets me all hot and bothered oh and since I’m risking it all I’d love it if you tied me up and maybe choked me too.’”

You glance over your shoulder, a look of profound regret is plastered over Yaomomo’s face. You give her an impish grin.

“Doesn’t quite roll off the tongue does it.”

“Oh (Y/N).” Your friend shakes her head. When you finally turn the corner onto the street, your hero agency is housed, you catch sight of a mop of green hair. You pick up your pace, a mischievous grin on your face. Using your quirk, you redistribute your mass, so your footfall’s noise against the pavement is silenced. Izuku is talking with someone, his back turned to you. The goods were on display. When he’s in reach, you stretch out your arms, hands cupping his butt you feel him stiffen as you whisper against his ear.

“You’re under arrest for transporting illegal buns of steel.” You watch the blush creep up from his neck before capturing his entire face. He turns his neck, trying to get a good look at you.

“Wh-what!” You begrudgingly let go of his ass, and he turns his body to face you, his freckles standing out against the pink hue of his flustered expression.

“Sorry hun, I don’t make the rules.” You shrug your shoulders.

“I- I, (Y/N) that’s not even a legal penal code! A-and there’s no way I could transport enough steel on my person to warrant a body search.”

“Ooh Deku,” you loosen up the state of your atoms, allowing them to vibrate in mock arousal, “I love it when you talk legal code at me. Repeat it: penal.”

He flounders for a reply, mouth agape at a total loss for words. You giggle at his expression, a total deer in headlights. The person he’d been talking to finally makes themselves known.

“Atomic, you’re still teasing the living soul out of Deku per usual. Glad to know things haven’t changed ‘round here.” His shark tooth smile pulls an equally toothy smile from you.

“Eijiro! When did you get back? I’ve missed you.” You rush to the redhead, and he reciprocates your hug, holding you tight.

“Man, I’ve missed you too (Y/N). The States were cool, but there’s no manlier place than home sweet home.” You pull back and take him in. He looks the exact same if not a little bit more tanned.

“Damn straight.” Yaoyorozu arrives at the end of your reunion. Her excitement at seeing her old friend is nearly palatable. They catch up enthusiastically, and you saddle up next to your boyfriend, who’s finally gotten his blush under control.

“Hey, babe.” You give his cheek a chaste kiss, and he smiles.

“Hey, love,” Izuku gives your hand a squeeze, “How was your day?”

“It was pretty run of the mill except for the utter shitstorm Yaomomo and I had to clean up in Minato City.” You glance down and watch his feet shuffle from side to side.

“Huh, sounds pretty epic.”

“Not the first, second, or even the third word I’d use, but we’re all entitled to our opinions. And don’t you try acting coy with me, Izuku! That blonde ticking time grenade, the confused weather pattern, and your quirk were all over that place.” Izuku gulps.

“I expended a lot of energy cleaning up after you and your friends baka. As compensation, you’ve gotta cook me curry rice. Deal?”

He kisses your cheek in assent.

“Great!” You beam. “I’m gonna go change, be back in fifteen.” You disappear through the agency’s massive double doors. Yaomomo watches until you’re out of view before she walks over to Midoriya.

“So about (Y/N) ’s birthday . . .”

−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−

When you come out, you find a peculiar scene waiting for you. Yaoyorozu has crafted a fan for, you presume, Izuku, who is so red you could almost see the light refraction from his face’s heat and sweating by what looks like the gallon. Eijiro is by his side, trying to calm him down. You heighten the sensitivity of your cochlea to pick up the tail end of their conversation.

“It’ll be super manly, dude!”

“Bu-but I’ve never . . .” Your boyfriend seems tongue-tied.

“You’ve definitely got it in you,” Eijiro slaps Izuku on the back, “Plus Ultra!”

Izuku echoes Eijiro, but you can tell his heart isn’t in it.

You return to your average level of hearing and walk up to the trio.

“Everything good?” They all look at you with expressions that clearly scream, ‘No, everything is not good dumbass.’

“Riiight, foolish question. Izuku, babe, do you need me to help you?” He squeaks, and that stops you dead in your tracks. The last time he had squeaked in your presence was when he’d asked you out on your first date, and you think it was mostly because you had bluntly told him you had every intention of having sex with him if not after your first then for sure after your second date. He didn’t even squawk when you made good on your declaration, and you had been positive he was going to. Your assurance cost you a ¥2,000 bet with Ochako and Shoto. Whatever had transpired while you were changing had him spooked.

You crouch down and gently take his face between your hands. His cheeks are unnaturally warm. Closing your eyes, you reach out with your quirk to scan his vitals. What the actual fuck? Izuku’s pregenual anterior cingulate cortex is enormous. Your boyfriend is next level embarrassed. His heart rate is in the 200bpm range, which should have been impossible because it only ever got that high when he was exercising, and you were quite familiar with getting it there.

You’re honestly shocked his heart hasn’t started to palpitate with the sky-high levels of cortisol in his blood and high heart rate. Taking a deep breath, you begin to gently persuade the firing neurons near his PACC to chill, its size slowly decreases. You travel down to his hypothalamus and rearrange some of its chemical balance, so it stops producing corticotropin-releasing hormone, creating a negative feedback loop that would lead to his body to drop its cortisol production. You vasoconstrict a handful of the blood vessels in his face for good measure, hoping to cool it down. Your eyes flutter open, and the ruddiness is gone, and his cheeks feel cool against your palms. He gives you a weak smile and gosh that smile, these freckles, those lively emerald eyes. You lean your forehead against his, taking a moment to collect yourself. You kiss the tip of his nose before pulling yourself up, stretching once you’re fully upright.

“Well damn, I’m starving now. I know I said you had to cook for me, but I don’t think I’ll last. What do you say, Number 1. Hero, care to take me out to eat?”

Izuku gets to his feet, with a bit of help from Eijiro, who keeps a hand wrapped around his waist to keep him from stumbling.

“Yeah, of course, love. Just tell me where you want to eat.”

You grin in delight. Before making a decision, you turn to your two other companions. You’re not sure when Yaomomo had time to change, but she’s no longer in her hero costume.

“Would y’all like to join us? Izuku’s treat.” Your cinnamon roll’s protest is drowned out by their loud acceptance.

“I mean, if my bro is gonna treat us, then how could I say no?”

“How gracious Izuku, I’d love to share a meal with everyone.”

“Let’s get going then!” You grab Izuku’s hand and turn around, heading in the direction of the train stop. The walk will give you time to decide where you want to eat.

−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−

“Hold on one sec, almost got it.” You pace next to Izuku; the pressure on your bladder almost debilitating. At the click of your front door unlocking and seeing Izuku push it open, you rush through over the threshold. You kick the heels off your feet, your slippers abandoned at the entryway as you make a break for the bathroom. You can’t get your underwear off quick enough. The relief is almost pleasurable. You’d forgotten what it felt like to pee while exceedingly inebriated. Typically when you go out drinking, you elevate your liver’s production of alcohol dehydrogenase so you can avoid getting drunk, but tonight was your birthday celebration, and you wanted to get shitfaced, so you dialed it back. Now that you’re home and not interested in a hangover, you make the necessary adjustments to your liver. The night out had been a pleasant surprise. More people had shown up than you’d been led to believe would, most importantly, your younger siblings had stopped by — you hadn’t seen them since moving to Musutafu to pursue your hero career. You finish reminiscing over the night’s events. Quickly wiping, you flush the toilet and wash your hands. When you open the door, you find your slippers are there waiting. He was a total sweetheart.

You slide your sore feet in and sigh at the fluffiness. You make your way to your bedroom, surprised to find it empty. Where had Izuku gone? You take off your earrings, dropping them into your jewelry box. Making your way to the main bathroom connected to your room, you’ve just finished wiping away your makeup when you hear the door open. You walk to the bathroom door to peek and gasp as soon as you spot the figure closing the door behind them. Now you’d be the first to admit you are a horny bitch, but never have you felt your pussy throb with such a deep longing the way it was throbbing now. You stand still dumbfounded at seeing Izuku in his hero costume in your bedroom.

“Babe?” You try to suppress the quiver in your voice.

“Ma’am,” He tilts his head in greeting, “I got reports of a villain in the vicinity. I’m Deku, and I’m here to take care of you.”

Why the fuck did he just introduce himself? And a villain? You reach out with your quirk but don’t feel an unknown presence nearby. You start to walk towards him but stop at the foot of your bed. He meets you there, and you don’t know what to expect, but it definitely was not him pushing you onto your back. You fall with a muffled thud against the comforter. You stare up at him at a complete loss. You then become hyper-aware of what you’re wearing. The sparkling strappy mini dress leaves little to the imagination, and you’re positive that from his angle, Izuku can see your panties and the growing evidence of your arousal.

“Apologies, ma’am, but I’ll be using my quirk to restrain you as a precautionary measure.” Your mouth goes dry as you watch Blackwhip manifest wrapping around your wrists, pulling your arms above your head, and adhering to your shared bed’s headboard. You have to scoot yourself back a few inches to ease the tension in your shoulders. Holy shit. He just tied you up. This whole time he’s been standing at the end of the bed taking you in. You know your face is flushed, and you can feel your nipples brushing against the material of your dress now that you’re so turned on. Izuku’s hands come into view, and that somehow gets your mouth to work again.

“What are you going to do?” You arch an eyebrow and part your lips to let your tongue dart out and wet them. Fuck Yaomomo wasn’t off the mark with her comment.

“I’ll need to do a full-body search to ensure you’re not concealing anything illegal on your person.” You don’t have time to respond before his gloved hands caress down your pinned arms, across where your neck and shoulders meet. Leaving goosebumps in their wake. He cups your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples. You groan as the sensation travels down, pooling between your legs. He moves down your sides, slowly over your exposed thighs sticking strictly to the outside of your legs until he reaches mid-calf. You feel his hands move, and suddenly their inching closer to your aching cunt. Using his right hand Izuku runs a finger teasingly up between your clothed slit and your hips give an involuntary buck. He removes his finger and tuts at you, that pisses you off.

“What the fuck Izu —” You stop yourself when you see another tendril of black materialize near your face.

“Don’t make me gag you. My name is Deku, and you will address me as Deku-sama.” There’s a finality in his tone that leaves no room for argument. You’re torn between being really fucking aroused and very vexed at this role reversal. You’d always been on top, literally and figuratively, and now here he was, your cinnamon roll, threatening to gag you and not even blushing about it. He takes your silence as understanding and begins to hike up the bottom of your dress. With your midriff exposed, he finally settles between your legs, his toned abdomen flush against you. He places an open-mouthed kiss just above your belly button, his tongue flicks out to taste your skin. Izuku’s lips continue to roam over every inch of your exposed abdomen, sucking and biting. He’s going to leave love marks all over your stomach, you’re sure. His hands travel up under your dress, coming to rest just below your breasts. You feel the flat of his tongue working its way towards his hands. When you can feel his breath tickling you already hard nipples, he pulls his face away. You squirm and pull against your restraint — you feel them tighten.

“What is it you want, villain?” Fuuuck. The word falls from his lips wrapped in sinful promise sending another steady pulse of need through your body. Your nervous system was on fire.

“I want you to touch me.” You try to taper down the pleading in your voice, but the mildly amused expression on Izuku’s face says you failed.

“Like this?” His hand runs down your neck, over your dress and through the valley of your cleavage, past your naval stopping at the band of your panties. It dawns on you that he was teasing you.

“Or like this?” You’re not sure when his gloves came off or how he managed it, but one second you’re covered by the flimsy dress material next, the straps keeping it up are torn, and the dress pulled down. You hiss at the shock of the sudden temperature change, but quickly warm up as calloused fingers massage your breasts. A greedy moan is the only answer you can manage as you arch your back into his touch. He leans closer, breath warm against your neck, and moves a hand down to grip your ass,

“Let’s see if these are illegal buns of steel.” Even with how incredibly husky his voice is, you almost laugh at his remark’s absolute absurdity. Still, having maybe foreseen your reaction Izuku wraps one of your nipples between his lips before you can utter a sound.

“Deku-sama.” You inhale sharply coming completely unwound as his tongue flicks and swirls. His mouth sucks and pulls playfully. When his teeth graze your nipple, you contemplate making your hands boneless to escape the restraints just so you could tangle your hands in his hair; even with the undercut, you knew you could make him moan. The idea is quickly dashed as Izuku releases your now overly sensitive bud with a resounding pop that sends the ache in your pussy into a frenzy. Good god , he hasn’t even gotten inside of you yet. He treats your other nipple with much the same attention. However, this time, he lets his teeth give it a gentle nibble, and the shock of the feeling causes your skin to prickle. You feel him grin at your reaction before giving your nipple a farewell lick. He captures your lips, shoving his hips down against your own, as his hands’ ghost over your neck. You hook a leg around his hip, pulling him closer, trying to create as much friction as possible as you roll your hips upward. He lets out a breathy chuckle, as his mouth moves to replace his hands. He kisses up your neck, his breath tickles your ear, and you stutter out a needy whimper.

“Someone’s eager.” You groan in frustration as he pulls back. His hands grab hold of what’s left of your dress, and you help him get you out of it. He runs a finger up your stomach, stopping just below your sternum. The tip of his index finger traces a lazy circle before leaving a trail of goosebumps back down to your hip. The pressure of his finger is replaced by his mouth, biting the flesh of your hip crease hungrily. He kisses his away across to your opposite hip, traces of his kisses wet against your skin. You feel his fingers toying with the lacy hem of your panties before he hooks them in the elastic, pulling them down. You lift your hips as they pass over the curve of your ass, and you wriggle in anticipation. Izuku braces his left forearm against your right thigh, pushing your legs wider. His index finger explores your wet folds, dipping briefly into your slit, before brushing against your swollen clitoris.

“Deku-sama, please .” You don’t care how desperate you sound, the ache in your pussy is becoming unbearable. The slow burn was killing you.

“Since you said, please.” He slips a thick finger inside of you, curling it just so it massages the soft and spongy spot that makes your toes curl and lewd obscenities fall from your parted lips.

“Aah, fuck. Fuck, yes, there, right there. More. Izuku give me more.” A second finger is roughly inserted. You cry out as a jolt of ecstasy consumes every inch of you. He begins to scissor his fingers back and forth, “It’s De-ku sa-ma,” each thrust emphasizing the syllables of his declaration. You rock your hips up, trying to get his fingers deeper because you are close. You can feel the dam getting ready to burst. When his thumb circles your clit, you feel yourself clench around his fingers. He inhales sharply. You bite back a moan as stars begin to dance across your vision. The rhythm of his fingers picks up, and the pressure on your clit begins to be too much.

“You’re about to cum.” It’s not a question, but you manage to pant a yes, and it becomes your undoing. Tongue replaces fingers before you can bemoan feeling empty, hands wrap under your thighs, keeping you exposed when they instinctively try to shut. His fingers dig into soft flesh, and the pain leaves you dizzy for more. He unhooks his left arm from your thigh, again using his forearm to keep your leg down. Two fingers spread you open, and his breath is warm, and you screw your eyes shut because fucking hell, you feel ready to erupt. You feel the warmth of his tongue as it slips inside you and starts to lick around. His nose brushes against your clit as he laps up your wetness. When he takes your clitoris in his mouth, you feel yourself at the edge of a precipice.

“Y-your fin-fingers. Deku-sama.” You frantically tug against your binds as you arch your hips rutting into his face. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You feel yourself drowning in pleasure when his fingers join back in the fray. You’re full, and his tongue is everywhere. Inside you along with his fingers, pressing in all the right places. There’s no room to be embarrassed by your body’s wet sounds as you thrust against his fingers or the sounds he’s eliciting from you — loud, throaty, and gluttonous. He laps up the juices wherever they end up, on your thighs, in your folds, the space between your pussy and ass. At your clit he teases with nibbles, quick flicks of his tongue, and long flat strokes. He was treating you like you were his favorite meal. Coming back for seconds, thirds, fourths. You lose track of time. The air crackles with electricity, Izuku, the electromagnet to your copper coils. It sparks against your skin. Were you doing that? You couldn’t tell, but it didn’t matter because something was building. You feel it in your core, your quirk causing your atoms to buzz in excitement. He lets you hook your legs around his back, locking your ankles. You make a strangled noise when a particularly aggressive thrust combined with the head-splitting euphoria of Izuku’s tongue on your clit brings your Earth stuttering on its axis.

“Oh fuck, oh kami. Shit, Deku-sama!”

You flicker in and out. One second howling Izuku’s name like a prayer to the Gods, hips rolling up to meet his mouth. The next, you find yourself weightless in a void no longer in a corporeal form. What the fuck? It lasts no longer than a second before you return to your body and the sound of him cooing against your aching cunt.

“That’s it, cum villain. Cum for me.” And cum, you do. Waves of fiery ecstasy set your body aflame. You clench your fists and use your legs to pull Izuku’s face further flush against you. When you think you can catch your breath, Izuku surprises you by coaxing you into another smaller orgasm. You don’t know how he did it, but you really can’t complain, you’re feeling blissful as fuck. The bed creaks as he shifts back onto his knees, unwrapping your legs from around him. Blachwip is deactivated, and your arms fall uselessly to your sides. You feel your legs quiver from exertion, and you watch your chest rise in fall sporadically as your breathing levels off. You prop yourself up on your elbow to give Izuku a once over. He’s got a bit of sweat on his forehead, you can see the outline of his erection against the front of his hero costume, and your cum glistens on his nose, mouth, and chin. Not sure how you manage it, with your body feeling so close to putty, but you scoot back, pulling yourself up into a seated position, and rock forward onto your knees so you’re facing him.

You move closer, so your knees brush against his. Now that you’re close enough, you can see how blown his pupils are. They almost wholly eclipse the dark shamrock of his irises. He had it bad for you. You could fix that. You grab his chin between your thumb and forefinger, tilting it down to your lips so you can lick it clean. When your tongue traces the outline of his mouth, a low moan rumbles in the back of his throat. You get his mouth open with a hard nip to his bottom lip. Tasting yourself in his mouth and on his tongue makes you squeeze your thighs together briefly before you let your free hand wander between your legs to stroke your clit and moistening labia. You give the tip of his nose a cutesy peck that almost brings a blush to his freckled face, but he remains in character, so you palm his cock with your damp hand grinning devilishly when he stutters an exhale.

“I want you, hero.”

Izuku’s chuckle is rich, and you can feel it reverberate against where your chests connect. You start to toy with the hair at the nape of his neck, the short buzz of his undercut tickles your fingertips. Sliding your hand up, you finally get to tangle your fist in his hair, your grip tightens, and you pull his head back, exposing his neck. Your tongue darts out to lick a stripe up to just below his earlobe, all the while your hand strokes him into fully hardening.

“I’m not fucking around, Deku.” Your voice is thick and your tone dark, dangerous. He grabs the wrist of the hand that’s between his legs and growls,

“Neither am I villain slut.” You swallow hard at his inflection on the word slut. You’d never been called a slut during sex, and under any other circumstance, you’re sure it wouldn’t have sent a thrill of arousal pulsing from your fingertips down to your toes. He brings the hand up above your head, reaching behind his head to grab your second hand. You give him a feral grin, and his eyes flash before he sends you to your back. You’re about to stretch out your legs when he commands you to flip over onto your hands and knees. You do as you’re told, biting your lip as warmth begins to once again pool between your legs. You wish you could help him out of his costume, but it sounds like your help wasn’t needed. His dick grazes against the back of your thighs. A finger follows the curve of your spine. You arch into the touch and moan when it dips at your hip to tap your clitoris.

“You’re so wet already. You villains really know nothing about bedroom decorum.” He skims a hand over your stomach, stopping to grope and tease your hardened nipples.

“Oh? Keeping a woman in suspense isn’t exactly proper in my book De-ku sa-ma.” You look over your shoulder with a smirk.

“You’re,” he thrust into you without warning, quickly turning the grin on your face into an open-mouthed ‘oh,’ “not,” he pulls out, so the tip of his head just barely touches your cunt, “a woman.” He pushes into you, swearing under his breath as you push your hips back to meet his momentum. A ragged breath escapes your lips as you adjust to him, filling you. Shit, the boy is thick. His nails dig into your hip as he continues to fuck you at a painfully slow pace. Fingers tweak your nipples, and you feel your whole body flush with pleasure. You clutch the bedsheets in two tight fists when he starts to quicken his thrusts. His chest is slick with sweat against your back, his tongue tracing circles into your shoulder. An aggressive stroke sends the head of his cock rubbing up against your G-spot, and you feel your walls squeeze around him.

“Shit, shit, fuck Deku. That’s it. Just keep putting pressure on that spot.” You feel your elbows buckle, and you expect to crash into the bed. Instead, black tendrils wrap around your arms to keep you upright. This is definitely not how Lariat intended Blackwhip’s tendrils to be used. The thought makes you giggle. It seems that this was not a sound Izuku wanted to hear coming from you. He bites down on the spot of your shoulder he’d been suckling, making his displeasure known. You feel him adjust himself behind you, perhaps too quickly, because he slips out of you, and you protest immediately with a loud whine.

“I’ll give you something to whine about.” He thrust back into you, your knees go weak, and your pussy’s stimulation begins to pull the taught rope of your impending orgasm closer to snapping. One of his hands grabs the hair at the base of your neck, tugging with just enough force to tease a guttural mewl from you.

“That’s more like it.” You’re so overstimulated, with the rhythm of his dick coming in and out of you. The attention he’s paying to your clit, you scarcely have the headspace to be shocked by the personality change. Izuku doesn’t release his hold on your hair; instead, he deactivates Blackwhip and uses the grip to guide you, so your back is flush against his chest. You can smell the muskiness of his sweat with him so close. It mingles in the air with the scent of your arousal. Sex, the whole room smelled heavily of your fucking. He brushes a thumb over your bottom lip, pulling it down gently. You open your mouth, taking it in, holding it gently between your teeth, your lips acting as a cushion. You suck on Izuku’s thumb, letting your tongue swirl over the tip treating it how you would if you were instead sucking on the head of his cock. You hollow out your cheek and release his thumb with a satisfying pop. Your reward is the sound of Izuku’s heated gasp. The sound tightens the coil in your groin. You feel his right hand lightly trailing up your side. You expect him to stop to cup your breast, but a tingle runs up your spine when he skips it entirely. His thumb rests a few inches under your right ear, the fleshy part of his palm rests against your trachea, the remaining four fingers occupy the same spot under the opposite ear. You can’t hide your excitement as he begins to apply light pressure to your neck. It’s amplified when he whispers in your ear,

“Whose slut are you, villain?”

“I’m yours. All yours.” He squeezes a little tighter, and you squirm, gripping his left hip for stability.

“Yours, Deku-sama. I’m all yours.” You choke over the words while he loosens his grip satisfied with your correction. The brief bout of intoxicating lightheadedness dissipates quickly, but he keeps his hand around your neck.

You feel him, hard and slick, throbbing inside you, and you know he’s close. You prepare to ride out the coming crescendo that you’ll set off with your silver tongue.

“You’re getting close, aren’t you, hero? I can feel your cock pulsing.” He squeezes your neck tighter than he has before reminding you who was in charge. You dig your nails into his hip and bite your lip. Was he turning into a masochist, or were you?

“I want you to cum in me. Make me your bona fide villain bitch — think you’re up for it, big boy?” You were being so bold, goading him. It does the trick. He releases his hold on your neck, you’re a little sad, but are swiftly distracted by a sudden burst of heat and green energy crackling, the telltale sign of Full Cowl being activated. What the hell was he up to? Your answer comes moments later when his hands push your bent legs further apart, hooking his arms under your thighs to lift them up. You feel weightless, free, and so very wanton. Then like being dosed with ice-cold water, you come back to your senses; you’ve always been terrified of being picked up during sex. Your arms flail, searching for anything to grab hold of. They settle awkwardly at Izuku’s neck. Your breathing is a little erratic.

“You’re not scared of heights, are you?” Oh, he was being a total ass.

“Absolutely not.” You bite back.

“Heh.”

Sensing your discomfort, he places you back down on your knees, his hand returning to your neck — where it belonged. Shit, it was you, you’re the masochist. You feel him throb inside you, the head of his penis gets a little bigger and his cock harder. His movements become more sporadic. You take his free hand and lead it to your clit, you’d be damned if he cums before you. His groans become music to your ears, loud and ravenous as you roll your hips to meet his thrusts. Soon that’s all you can feel, like tunnel vision nothing else matters, there are no other options, but his cock burying itself deeper and deeper inside you as his fingers dance around your clit. He flicks and pulls, rubs circles, and you savor every second of it. Everything cumulates into a blinding flash of white-hot light as if you’re staring directly at burning magnesium. You hear him crying out your name, and it mixes with your carnal pleas into a cacophonous soundtrack to your mutual climax. He finishes inside you, the thick viscous liquid of his orgasm, filling you with more warmth than you anticipated. As you ride out your orgasm, you don’t stop gyrating your hips until you feel Izuku become soft. You let out a shaky breath as you come to a stop to catch your breath. You’re thankful that he doesn’t seem eager to pull out quite yet while you bask in the quiet exhilaration of having orgasmed three times this night.

“I’m going to pull out now, okay?”

You nod your head slightly, words out of reach with your euphoria’s hum still clouding your mind. Cum trickles down between your thighs, the sensation almost ticklish, but far more erotic. With nothing connecting you to Izuku, your body gives in to its exhaustion, falling forward unceremoniously. He wraps an arm around your waist, setting you gently down on your stomach. Rolling onto your back, you shimmy up onto a pillow to support your head. You glance up at Izuku and sigh in content. Hair stuck to his head, abs contracting as he slows his breathing (his heart rate close to 180bpm), and his left-hand traces the scars on his right arm absently. Even in such a worn-out state, he looked otherworldly. You lock eyes, and you pat his side of the bed next to you.

“Cuddle with me.” At hearing those three words, he sheds his façade, his eyes soften, his jaw loosens, and he eagerly obliges your request. He rests his head on your chest, your fingers playing with his hair as he gently brushes your side. You stay like this for a few minutes until he starts out of your arms like someone’s lit a fire under his ass. He sits up, you follow suit intrigued by what’s got him so worked up. You watch him reach across towards his nightstand. He pulls out a notebook and a pencil. You have to suppress your snort as he begins scribbling furiously. You couldn’t even pretend to be surprised, catching bits and pieces of his muttering.

“. . . dominated . . . choking . . . loud . . . buns of steel. . .” You can’t stifle the laugh that escapes you. He glances up and gives you a sheepish grin, his face like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t.

“You fucked me into another dimension, jot that down in your sex notebook.” A blush erupts across his face.

“I-I what? Seriously?”

“Mhmm, as seriously as my orgasm.” Embarrassment flickers momentarily in his eyes, quickly replaced by intense curiosity. You dare say you see a little triumphant gleam too.

“What happened, tell me everything, love.” You recount what he’d been doing with his tongue and fingers. The feeling leading up to it and what it looked like in this other dimension.

“Sounds like you’ve unlocked another facet of your quirk.”

“Looks like it, but it’s not really useful.” He gives you an inquiring look; you roll your eyes. He could be so dense sometimes.

“I can’t exactly have you eating me out in public every time I want to astral project now, can I?” His blush returns full force.

“Maybe there’s another way.”

“Possibly, but I’m beat. My legs feel like jello, and I’m starting to feel sore.” You massage your neck, glancing at your exposed breasts and the marks that speckle them. Izuku looks at you with worry.

“You can’t fix it with your quirk?”

“I can, but where’s the fun in that? One of my favorite parts of sex is feeling it the next day. I’m definitely going to tomorrow and maybe the day after thanks to you.” You give him a wink and admire as he fumbles with his words.

“Oh! Well, I mean. Yeah. No problem. I think?” He was definitely back to being your cinnamon roll. You giggle quietly.

“Before I go clean up, I’ve gotta know. How did you do that.” You motion with your hand, hoping he picks up what you’re putting down. He does.

“Simple, lots of research.” You squint at him, touching the pulse at his neck. It was slightly elevated.

“Ah-huh, and what else?”

“No-nothing!” The pulse quickens a little more.

“Did you role play with someone?” The idea sounds absolutely preposterous, but when he pushes your hand away from his neck and gets up off the bed, you know you’ve struck a nerve.

“You’re using your quirk, that’s not fair.”

“All’s fair in love and war. So, who was it with? Shoto? Eiji? Or was it Katsuki ?” The light hue of pink that creeps up his neck is all the confirmation you need.

“Ah,” you bob your head sagely, “it makes sense, babe, he gives off a total masochist vibe. I’d have practiced with him too. What was it like? Would he be open to a threesome? Or would it be a foursome since he’s got that not, so secret thing going with Eiji? Could I even handle the three of you?” You wonder out loud.

“(Y/N)!” Izuku rushes into the bathroom, adamantly trying to end this conversation. You weren’t letting this go, oh no siree, so you get out of bed and walk to the bathroom where Izuku’s turned on the shower and is standing under its current.

“Nice try. You’re giving me the details.” He sighs defeatedly.

“Can it wait until we’re in the bath.” You cross your arms in a huff, pouting.

“I guess.” Izuku grabs you, pulling you into the shower with him. You wrap your arms around his waist, resting your cheek against his chest. He gives the top of your head a kiss.

“Happy birthday, (Y/N).”

Happy fucking birthday to me. You smile to yourself.

#bnha x reader #midoriya x reader #midoriya smut #midoriya izuku #midoriya fic #reader is female #reader insert #midoriya fluff #the gift that keeps on giving

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vegetalass · 4 years

Text

RDR2 Boys Cooking + Eating Habits

Arthur

Somebody else on here wrote some headcanons about Arthur not being able to cook and just eating microwave food all the time and I just have to say…. That’s canon

Lowkey though he’s trying his best to get better at cooking

Probably the only thing he knows how to make is pasta

He adds a bunch of random frozen veggies to water as the noodles are cooking

And then smothers the whole thing in butter and calls it a meal

Or he puts marinara sauce on it straight from the jar

And yes, that means it’s cold

He’s also getting better at friend rice, too

But he’s really bad at actually making rice

If he doesn’t add too much water… He burns the bottom

Charles makes a mental note to buy him a rice cooker for his birthday

Makes his own popsicles out of random fruit juices and eats them 24/7

Thinks this qualifies him as a chef

Eats pickles and olives straight out of the jar with a fork

And sauerkraut too probably

Just goes over to john’s house on his pizza nights

Puts ketchup on eggs

John

Pizza dad

Probably orders pizza, salad, and a 64oz soda twice a week

Everything else is just Dino chicken nuggets, Eggos, hot dogs, quesadillas, and frozen peas and corn

Food you feed to little kids, basically

Mostly because he does have a little kid

But also because it’s easy and takes minimal effort and he doesn’t mind eating it, too

Abigail would be mad but she has no room to talk

The most you’ll see him actually make is buttered pasta (like Arthur) or sometimes beans and rice

Abigail bought them a rice cooker a while ago so that’s one thing he doesn’t have to worry about

Probably always has some type of dessert laying around

Doesn’t mean it’s good, but it’s there

Abigail buys a bunch of those gross, low calorie ice creams and John ends up having to finishing them

Family lunches consist of a bologna sandwich on wheat bread with American cheese and mayo, a piece of fruit, a bag of chips or crackers, a go-gurt, and some gummies

And yes he makes them for himself and Abigail too

They’re all eating good at the Marston household

(Not really)

Charles

Everything he cooks are things that can’t be made in single batches

Lots of healthy soups, chilis, stew, etc…

Most of the time, he makes too much of whatever it is so he always has leftovers

Everyone is jealous when he brings them for lunch

Probably finds all of his recipes in the newspaper or random magazines he reads while at the grocery store checkout line

Everyone is like, “Charles… Why are you reading Women’s Fitness?”

And he’s like, “Check out this salad recipe, though”

Puts hot sauce on everything

Salad, macaroni and cheese, hamburgers... You name it

And he’s the king of snacking

All of his snacks are healthy, though

Raw veggies and fruit and quinoa chips from Whole Foods or something like that

Nobody likes this

He’s one of those people who brings hard boiled eggs everywhere as a “snack,” too

And yea, he puts hot sauce on those, also

He really likes those weird protein bars that are hard to bite into and taste like chalk

The flavors are either normal stuff like white chocolate macadamia or Protein Power Punch with whey, chia and seaweed

There’s no in between

He’s also a charcuterie board legend

Hosea is jealous of this talent

Micah

Spends all his money on take out

He’s totally one of those weird people who’s entire trash can is just filled with take out boxes and cans of coke or beer

Constantly eating fast food

You ask him what he bought at the supermarket and he’s like “Pub mix and bud light”

SIR

Everything that he does manage to cook only involve one step of preparation

Unseasoned, fried meats and boiled veggies

Sometimes scrambled eggs and bacon

If he’s feeling fancy, he will make plain sandwiches

This is very rare, though

Can and will complain about anyone’s cooking

Even if it’s good and he he likes it

There are certain people he can’t do this to, though, or they won’t let him eat

The only person’s cooking he doesn’t complain about is Dutch’s

Constantly snacking from an entire party sized bag of chips

And yes, he eats straight out of the bag and wipes his fingers on his jeans

His oven is dirty

Hosea

A meal for him is probably a handful of almonds and an applesauce or yogurt cup

He is constantly making a bunch of those Tik Tok recipes where you just put a bunch of random stuff into your crock pot and add ranch seasoning and cream cheese

*insert all of those memes about mom pulling out the crock pot*

If you complain, he says “Well, you’re always welcome to cook, too”

Wears an apron when he cooks

Constantly eating plain toast with butter

And bananas

And cheese sticks

Thinks that this makes him “healthy”

Definitely likes to snack on those cocktail fruit cups and canned mandarin oranges

His entire freezer is just full of ice cream

It’s all weird flavors like Cherry Garcia, chocolate banana, and pistachio though

Everyone hates him for this

Raisins are his late night treat

Has a secret stash of candy no one can find

That’s okay though because it’s mostly Werthers Originals

And Chiclets gum

He picks out all the orange ones, though

Dutch

Tries to re-plate takeout so he can call it his own

Everybody sees through this but they stopped commenting on it like four Thanksgivings ago

Buys a bunch of those meals from Costco that all you need to do is heat up in the oven

He does like fast food but only from the less popular places

Carl’s Jr., Wendy’s, BK, Arby’s, etc.

A&W, too, because he’s old and weird

He can totally cook, he just never does

It’s just normal stuff like spaghetti and meatballs or chicken and rice, though

Tuna fish casserole

He over-seasons everything, though

Mostly because he’s trying to prove that he’s a good cook

Eats dessert twice, every night

Once right after dinner, and then later when he’s feeling like a treat

Will eat in bed

Uses a little bib and tray and everything

Likes pumpkin and sunflower seeds

Would eat hot wings with gloves on

He’s the one who taught Arthur to put ketchup on eggs

Kieran

The second I realized that Kieran would probably be white trash, my life changed

Hamburger Helper meals for LIFE

That one cheeseburger pasta? Kieran probably eats that three times a week

He 100% makes the ketchup-butter sketti from Honey Boo Boo

“It’s been a while since I done had roadkill in my belly”

His favorite dessert is ambrosia salad or that weird yogurt/Cool Whip covered jello that was popular in the 2000s

Probably has a TV dinner every once in a while, too

Instant mashed potatoes and minute rice type of guy

Also gives me big microwave cheddar broccoli vibes

I’ve said this before, but his house is probably stocked with all kinds of on-brand goodies

Probably always has some kind of chip and cookie around

Eats dinner in front of the TV

Dips french fries in mayonnaise

All of this said though, he isn’t a picky eater and will eat whatever is put on his plate

That’s why he’s great to take to restaurants, because he never complains

Honestly it’s just so sweet to think of him making big crockpot meals to share with ppl even if his cooking is a lil.... strange

Javier

Thinks that the hot dog combo from Costco is a suitable dinner

Also gets hot food from the grocery store for dinner a lot

Literally will just heat up a can of something and eat it plain

Beans, chili, soup…

Doesn’t doctor it up or change it at all

He’s happy to share but no one wants any

Chips and dip, 24/7

And it’s just Tostitos Hint of Lime chips and hummus

Probably puts hummus on everything, too

Corn chips, tortilla chips, tortillas, vegetables, sandwiches, etc.

Will put anything in a tortilla and call it a sandwich

Eats leftovers cold

The rest of the gang thinks this is a sin

Makes stir fry with whatever is laying around the house

It’s a little gross because he will try to add leftover beans

Refuses to eat fast food

The only exception he’ll make is for french fries and ice cream

Walks around and eats at the same time

Isn’t above asking the other boys to share with him

Despite the fact that this only happens if what they’re eating is good

Which is almost never

Sean

Sean can’t cook. That’s the end of it

The most he can make is that weird microwave Mac and cheese where the pasta is boiled in the mug??

He never does it tho and just sticks with the normal, frozen Mac and Cheese you can microwave instead

Uses his microwaving ability to make mug cakes

And microwave scrambled eggs

Burns his popcorn every single time

He’s probably set of the smoke detector or fire alarm multiple times

He’s Irish though so of course he’s addicted to potatoes and cabbage

And since he’s from the UK, he likes stuff like beans on toast and marmite

He’s a little nasty too so catch him eating bologna sandwiches on wonder bread

Not even the Marstons are that bad

When he does get takeout, he overspends trying to use a delivery app

He’s like, “And do I need the extra side of special sauce for $5…? Yes.”

Cooks like this

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 headcanons #rdr2 headcanons #arthur morgan #i finally wrote the cooking one LOL #hope you enjoy!!#excited to work on some requests now!

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familyofpebbles · 3 years

Text

November 1st, 2021

Well, missed October. Oops. I was kind of waiting to see if you would have the time to write something, but you were super busy this month. You’ve been prepping for a board, Morales club, and rotation, haven’t had a real weekend almost all month, and had to sub in for two other squad leaders who had covid. So you understandably didn’t get around to this. Maybe this month. Either way, I’ll try to do another at the end of this one to make up for it.

My car has been out of commission- the brakes seized on our way back from Switzerland which is a whole other story. The parts are taking forever to get here so I’m beginning week three hitching rides with either you or Erika. Since I also happen to not be working until later these past weeks, it’s involved quite a lot of waiting around…in the break room or the café or the library. It’s honestly not the worst thing in the world. My productivity is certainly not high but I’ve been getting a lot of reading in! It’s easy to relax and enjoy it when there’s literally nothing else you could be doing. I finished Ain’t I a Woman by Bell Hooks, which Eliza and I were reading together. It was incredible. I have miles of notes and it prompted a lot of thinking which was great. And then I re-read The Secret Life of Bees which is still one of my all time favorites and burrows into my heart a little deeper every time. It really got me thinking this time how it’s such a dream to be able to live on some land, have a big garden and maybe some bees, care for some animals, and be a part of a community with lots of women. Grow food together and have fresh eggs and let our kids play together and even become a doula… just to be a useful part of a community and in tune with the earth and her cycles. Gently worship nature and thank luck and venerate ancestors. I want that life. I hope we can find our way there eventually. Maybe it’s the time to gather skills and habits to make that transition more of a real possibility when we get the opportunity.

This weekend we attended my first Halloween party, flawlessly hosted by Yvonne, of course. It was fun! Dressed in my very first character costume (Cruella DeVille) which I looked great in if I do say so myself. I think I want to be a wig person now. I was FEELING that long hair! We had these cute little bloody syringe jello shots and I tried a Cuban cigar (tasty). It was a good time. I think I need a good going out moment again though, I miss dancing and I feel like I’m going to be too old and mommed up for all that soon!

Also, in big news, Livvy turned 9! She has been with me eight whole years, can’t believe it. If I could make one little creature live as long as I do it would be her. My little angel fluff. Almost in the double digits already.

I want to write about one of our trips, so I’ll start at our earliest outside-Germany one. This was December 2019, our last trip before the plague hit (that new years feels like the beginning of a horror movie trailer now, everyone all happy and celebrating before ~life as they knew it changed forever~).

We went to Czechia, and spent our anniversary in Prague. It was magical.

We arrived in the evening, and first thing after checking in to our airbnb decided to go find something to eat. Aiming for some authentic Czech food, we found ourselves in an old brewery of sorts. We had heard that Czechs are also very proud of their beer and claim it’s superior to Germany’s, so we had to try. Turns out, we disagree with them on that, but I still enjoyed it a bit more than you did! In fact, my entire restaurant experience was a bit better than yours- I got fried cheese and potato pancakes and you forgot what marinated meant and so were very disappointed in your strangely soggy cheese. We did get a beer sampler full of interesting flavors that was fun- definitely combinations I’ve never tried before. Fruits, coffee, nettle, all sorts of stuff. The nettle beer was bright green! My favorites were the cherry and coffee, and you liked the banana and classic wheat the best.

We went for a stroll along the river after, asking our traditional (and now exceedingly easy) 36 questions. The pavement was wet from a recent rain and was reflecting the street lights almost as brightly as the water was. Strange empty yet lit up rooms lined the bridge on the side of the walking path, which I was fascinated by. We passed a Christmas tree barge all lit up, in the cabin a man dressed like Santa. We would have never guessed we would make it here of all places when we set out for that sunrise hike four years previous.

The next day was all exploration. We saw the clock, of course- the oldest operating one in the world. We wandered around admiring architecture and stopping at all the little Christmas markets and shops. We got some beautiful paintings of the city, and one of a little mouse with some red berries in the snow, and several souvenirs to send home. It was chilly but with the help of big fuzzy gloves and regular kisses (to warm up our faces of course) we certainly stayed cozy.

We visited the Klementinum, which started out as a chapel, which became a monastery, which turned into a Jesuit college, which merged with a university, and finally became an astronomical observatory. We got to see all sorts of old equipment, and even got to peek into the famous library. You couldn’t enter- just briefly stand in the doorway where they flicked the lights on long enough to see, no pictures allowed. It was beautiful- endless fragile old books, sensitive to light, holding who knows what knowledge! Apparently there are scholars currently working on digitizing the collection. What a dream job.

We crossed the bridge at twilight, making our way to the other side through masses of people and street artists and musicians, breaking out into the gateway of a fairytale city. We are closer to the palace here, the buildings neater and taller, the streets all lit up. We ducked inside a little antique shop and looked at old photos for a while, before heading up to the castle to see if we could make it in time for a tour. We missed our window (just our luck with palaces!) but shortly afterwards found our way to a fancy little restaurant with incredible pasta, so all was well. A small hike up a hill and the discovery of a clearly labeled Good Kiss Spot was the perfect way to end the day.

We found a real breakfast place there! Waffles and eggs Benedict and everything. It was soooo satisfying. And even better, while we were waiting for a table to open, we crossed the street to an amazing multi-level antique shop in which you got me a beautiful blue glass ring and a traditional embroidered top. I love them SO much.

Next stop was a little drive out of the city to go see Sedlec Ossuary. I’m gonna do the thing where I paste in from my Instagram again and save a bit of typing:

“Sedlec Ossuary- or simply 'The Bone Church'.⁣ ⁣ In 1278, the Abbot of this church brought back a small amount of earth from Golgotha and sprinkled it over the church's cemetery. Because of this, so many thousands of people wanted to be buried there that they had to enlarge the cemetery, until finally building a chapel around 1400 and using it to store the mass graves that were unearthed. ⁣ ⁣ Eventually in 1870, the woodcarver Rint was hired to put the bone heaps in order, and he was the one to arrange and decorate the chapel with those bones. ⁣ ⁣ The church contains the skeletons of an estimated 40,000 to 70,000 people, and the chandelier in the center contains at least one of every bone in the human body.

My first thoughts in here were wondering how the 40,000 people whose remains are inside would feel about being on display like this- a tourist attraction. There's really no way to know... ⁣ ⁣ I hope they would approve though. Still on the holy ground they originally wanted to be buried in, adorning the walls in a church of the god they worshipped. And personally, I feel like it must be nice to be out among the living, still being actively thought of and marveled at, instead of shut away six feet under and forgotten. I wouldn't mind at all if my bones ended up somewhere like this.”

So, yes. It was beautiful and somber and moving. It will stick with me for a long time. And, to anyone reading this, I hope something cool happened with my bones. Find out for me?

After that we went to this little coffee shop that was so cute and cozy- dark wood and soft chairs and a little fire place- and got some hot chocolate. What we didn’t know was that it was going to literally be… chocolate that is hot. We got little cups of thick melted chocolate (mine with ginger too), and little crème filled crisp rolls to dip in it. It was super rich and warming and delicious!

Back to Prague for our final evening! We made it through into the castle courtyard this time. The sky was this unbelievable cobalt blue that stained your eyes even when you looked away, and the castles church spires were silhouetted so beautifully against them. There was a little Christmas market situated right at the base of the palace and it was the most magical thing I’ve ever seen. Trees and stalls all lit up with lights, the smells of fried dough and pine and cold in the air, gluhwein and Trdelnick pastries and potato wedges wrapped in a funnily translated fake newspaper, all overseen by the castle glowing over the top of everything. Truly a fairytale.

I wasn’t ready to be done with the evening, and we decided to find a jazz club. We were there far too early for anything to start, which turned out to be good because the music space itself was super tiny half dome of a room, and it filled up fast. You were outside smoking when the musicians arrived and the bassist accidentally dropped his vase on your foot, which horrified him since you were using your cane that day! But, what an incredible experience it was!! This tiny, dark little club, listening to a band from of all places, Chicago- glasses of wine in front of us and making friends with the people seated near us all from different countries. The music was amazing, the piano especially mind-blowing. It was my favorite moment of the trip, hands down. A perfect ending.

I can’t believe that was already two years ago. Time has really flown by. I suppose it’s just gonna keep on rolling by, quicker and quicker! Gotta use every moment wisely, not just for productivity but for joy. The way we spend our minutes is the way we spend our lives… I just saw that somewhere, or something like it, and it’s been rolling around in my head for a bit. How we fill the gaps between working and the big events like vacation are the most important parts as far as looking back goes, since those little times make up the majority of our memories, dictate the base flavors of emotion and little projects and things we cared to think about. It’s almost in the reflexive moments, you know? What do we turn to to fill up the space? I want to consciously increase the quality of that supporting structure.

Hey, love you.

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goron-king-darunia · 3 years

Photo

Annon-Guy: Here’s a tasty treat from BlazBlue Cross Tag Battle 😋.

Es: “Pudding.” (line from XBLAZE)

Would the 14 Symphonia Characters eat this kind of Pudding?

I know it’s a Flan over here (Mai even called the Pudding a Flan in Episode Extra of BBTAG), but in Japan it’s know as Custard Pudding.

In XBLAZE, it looks like this 🍮 as it’s from the store. In BlazBlue Cross Tag Battle, it looks the picture displayed here as it’s specifically made gourmet pudding that Valkenhayn makes (Rachel Alucard bought Es’ assistance in Episode BlazBlue, Persona 4 Arena, Under Night In-Birth and RWBY with a mountain of gourmet pudding). *~*~*~*~* I’m going to go off exclusively the “gourmet” version, or the one shown in the picture rather than the standard flan or custard pudding because those are kinda plain and I think a lot of the characters who would like the gourmet version wouldn’t really care for the plain one without fruits and other additions. Lloyd: The only preference I’m aware of for Lloyd is that he hates tomatoes so I’m pretty sure he’d eat it. XD Colette: Colette really likes fruits so 100% she would eat it and probably add even more fruits to it. Genis: Genis doesn’t seem too picky about sweets so I bet he’d eat it. Probably likes the whipped cream topping and cherries best. Raine: Would eat it but would also probably add weird things like nato or lemon since lemons are her favorite. Which I guess wouldn’t be too weird since the one above is served with a citrus that looks like either orange or tangerine. But still, straight lemon is kind of weird. Still, as a lemon-eater myself, Raine is 100% valid and also probably a raccoon since other than me and Raine, raccoons are the only other creature on the planet that will eat a lemon straight. Like. I eat the pith and rind too. Cut lemon into wedges, put them in a plastic bag, let them macerate in their own juices and get tender... then just... eat them. Tastes like Lemonade. So Raine and I are I guess the weird people sticking straight lemon on things. XD (I get it from my mom since mom eats her rice with lemon and Raine tried to make rice-stuffed lemons as a recipe and everyone in the party was disgusted. XD) Sheena: I think Sheena might think the texture of the pudding/flan itself is weird, but she would probably like it and would probably also like the plain version. Zelos: Not enough melon. He’d steal the melon off of Regal’s. Zelos would trade the whole dessert to anyone and everyone at the table in exchange for the melon pieces and probably wind up with at least half a melon. Speaking of which, I’m not familiar with the exact type of melon used here. It clearly has the skin of a cantaloupe but I’ve never had a green cantaloupe. Presumably it would taste like the melon gum I once got with the bill at a Japanese restaurant in which case I do not blame Zelos one bit for trading his flan for more melon. XD Apparently designer fruits are a big deal in Japan, so Zelos could probably afford that $27,000 melon experience. XD Regal: Finding out Regal doesn’t like coffee isn’t that surprising because coffee is bitter and does, in fact, taste like muddy water if you don’t add anything to it in my opinion. Too many tannins for me. But I checked and apparently Regal doesn’t like CUCUMBER OR MELON. Like, bruh, IDK what to tell you, but cucumber barely has any flavor, let alone anything objectionable! Cucumber vaguely tastes like “green” water. Like “Oh, this water had some sort of vegetable in it.” And while I don’t really like cantaloupe, I don’t HATE it. I’ve had bad cantaloupes before that were REALLY disappointing that I didn’t enjoy eating, but I’ve also had really good cantaloupe! So I guess he’d eat it if you took the melon off of it. Still, kind of a shame. Presea: Presea probably doesn’t have strong preferences so she would try it. I’m not sure she would like the plain one but I think she’s one of the few people in the cast that could eat just the pudding part with nothing added. (I still stand by my coffee opinion for her though, even though the game wants to hammer in that she just doesn’t care. Coffee is serious business and I guarantee she has a preference on that. It’s MY HEAD CANON AND I’M STICKING TO IT! XD) Kratos: Would probably eat it, both the plain and gourmet version. Probably not something he would set out to eat and would only eat it if it’s something he had to. Not a favorite, not something he hates. Something that’s just so unobtrusive that he literally forgets it’s a food for 100 years at a time because he just DOESN’T care because it’s not particularly remarkable. Emil: Would probably eat it but I’m not sure if he’d like the plain one better or not because the game doesn’t make it 100% clear whether he had an issue with Colette’s cooking because it was primarily fruit because he doesn’t like fruit or if it was just that he wanted MORE than fruit. Cooking for the party wasn’t as big a mechanic in DotNW as it was in Symphonia, so while Monsters had favored foods, all we know about Emil is that he doesn't like herbs, doesn’t like Colette only cooking fruits, and enjoys steak and loves fried chicken and that last one we only know from info outside of DotNW. Marta: Would eat the gourmet kind and probably not like the plain one. Probably prefers parfait. Alice: Not only would she eat it, I bet she really likes it, especially the bouncy texture. But if you call her out for liking it, she’ll whip you.

Decus: 100% likes it just because Alice likes it. Richter: Doesn’t seem like a big custard fan, honestly. Would eat it if it was offered to him but also probably prefers a parfait. Probably hates the plain version because it just “tastes like sweet mush.” I don’t really see him enjoying the texture much either. Like, you could offer him mint jello and he’d probably like the flavor and hate the texture. Would eat the fruit and probably give the flan/pudding to someone else. Pontus the Polwigle: I know no one asked but Pontus would probably love it and this is my firm belief. Wiggly food for the wiggly boy.

#submissions #submission #Letters from Annon Guy #DotNW #BBTAG #character food preferences #headcanons

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

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Survey #363

(one more that’s a late upload from way earlier in the day, and i yet again don’t feel like updating the answers)

What brings out the worst in you? When I'm very anxious or having a PTSD episode, I can become very snappy and just not a joy to be around. What all did you eat today? This morning I had oatmeal, I had a rice cake as a snack, and lunch was ham and cheese on a tortilla. Some people were really destructive as a child, were you? No, I was a good kid. Who was the last person you were in a car with? My mom. Who was the last person you cried in front of? It was probably Mom. Do you talk about your feelings or hide them? I usually talk about them somewhere, like in surveys if I feel I can't with anyone else. Please be vocal with your feelings. It is so destructive to let them build up. Who was the last person you were with that smelled REALLY good? I'm unsure. Do you know anyone that is gothic? A good number of people, myself included at least in spirit. ;~; I can't really afford good attire, nor do I have the patience for so much makeup maintenance. Have you seen UP? I actually haven't seen the full movie, but I'd like to. How is your mom? Stressed as fuck and tired of everything. What color hair does your mom have? She recently dyed it black. Her hair is growing back totally gray now and she hated it. She's gotten so self-conscious as she's aged. When was the last time you were told you were cute? Idk. Do you feel comfortable getting up and giving speeches? FUCK NO. Have you ever dipped french fries in a frosty? I tried it once and did not get the appeal. Did you have school/class today? No. My school endeavors are done. Do you have any paintings in your room? If so, of what? Yeah, I have my big painting of meerkats grooming above all my 'kat plushies. Have you ever had your photo professionally taken? As a child and by school photographers, anyway. Would you prefer eating jello or pudding? Pudding. After washing your hair, do you put any products in it? No. Last time you ate a salad? Like a week ago when we went to Ichiban for my sister's bday. Do you know how old your house is? No, I don't. Have you ever been described as ”adorable”? Yeah. Have you ever given a lap dance? No. They seem incredibly awkward to me?? Would you accept a boring job if it meant you would make mega bucks? No. I can't do a job I hate for anything. I would be so depressed. Are you a moody person? Yes. What are you listening to? I'm watching Gab Smolders' new episode of Resident Evil 8: Village. I'm deadass watching four different LPers play it, I'm only moderately obsessed lmao. What video game could you waste the most time on? WoW, given it has like a zillion different things to do. Yet I still get bored lmao. What is your favorite condiment? Maybe Ketchup? I think I use that for the most things. What is the worst thing that you have ever done? I don't feel like getting into this. How old were you when your parents gave you the "birds and the bees" talk? They didn't; I learned in my school's sex ed in the 5th grade. Have you ever questioned whether or not you'd benefit from therapy? I have benefited from it. What would you like it to say on your gravestone? Hypothetically, idk. But I'd rather be cremated. Would you ever wear real leather or animal fur? NO. Have you ever completely failed a year of school and had to repeat a grade? No. Have you ever been bitten by an animal that wasn't a cat or a dog? Which? I think my old baby iguana bit me once or twice, not that it was very painful at her young age. I can't recall another animal. What type of literature are you most likely to read? (book, magazine, etc) Books. Do you prefer using candles, wax melts, or incense? Incense. Are you someone who actually doesn't have a Facebook? No, I have one. What kind(s) of Facebook groups are you active in, if any? I'm not really *active* in any; I just observe them and interact via "like"s. I'm actually in a whole lot of groups, though. Do you enjoy any herbal or fruit teas? What kinds? Neither. Do you hear any animals right now? No. What are your thoughts on Avenged Sevenfold? I know and like a few songs, especially "Dear God." Do you like Batman? Yeah, I like his "refuse to murder" ideology. The only thing is I kinda have a bad connection attached to him, because Batman was Jason's thing. Have you ever played fetch with a dog? Yes. Does your house have a fireplace? Yeah actually, but it might be fake? I don't even know lol. Have you ever pet a stingray? No. Have you ever dissected a baby pig in a class at school? Oh my god, no. I literally could never. I did dissect a frog in the 7th grade that wound up to be pregnant, though... I wasn't happy about it, but at the same time it was very interesting. Who is the last baby you held? My niece. Do you like Sunkist? The orange kind is fine, but the STRAWBERRY flavor? Jfc I love that shit. Would you ever consider being a cannibal? UM NO Do you have any scars from an animal? I have a lot of scars on my hands from playing with Roman. I scar extremely easily, so just his little scrapes leave marks. Have you ever seen an Igloo? No. Do you like Korn? Love 'em. How many animals do you have? Really two, but we have three in the house right now. Idk when this dog is going away. Are you more afraid of tornadoes or hurricanes? Tornados. Ever rode in a helicopter? No. Do you like rabbits? Yes, they're adorable. Do you like mushrooms? NO. What was the last movie you cried at? I want to say Logan, but I'm not sure. I watch movies so rarely that I really don't know. Would you rather work for a small or large company? Small. I'd feel more useful. What is the rudest thing a guy has ever done to you? I don't know. Have you ever read the book 13 Reasons Why? Yeah. I thought it was good, but now I don't remember like... anything about it. What did you have for breakfast this morning? I had apple and cinnamon oatmeal. How many times have you read your favorite book? Just once. I don't re-read books. Have you ever been on Omegle? No. Are you still in love with one of your exes? "In love," no. Do you think being born was a mistake? Yeesh, no. Has a relative ever been arrested? My psychotic uncle (by marriage) has been. Was it a serious crime? Quite honestly, I don't remember. I just know he's an angry and dangerous motherfucker. Do you think the Fountain of Youth exists? No. How about in a parallel dimension? Doubtful. Do you believe humans are part of a giant alien experiment? I ponder over the possibility of being a research simulation, kind of like a much advanced version of The Sims, but I honestly doubt it. Have you ever been suicidal? Yes. Was it a passing phase or is it something controlled by medication? Therapy and medication saved me. Is there a holiday you wish no one celebrated? Which is it? Why do you feel that way? Fight me about Christopher Columbus Day. He didn't discover shit. Have you taken any writing classes? How about art? I've taken a writing course in college, and I've taken loads of art classes. What’s your all-time favourite band? How about all-time fave singer? Ozzy Osbourne; Freddie Mercury. What three songs do you want played at your funeral? Why those particular songs? "Like A Woman" by Alice Cooper, "Life Is Beautiful" by Sixx A.M., and "Angels on the Moon" by Thriving Ivory. I just like them and find them suiting. Do you think most mythological creatures exist? No. Have you ever had lice? No. What is one superstition that freaks you out? Why is that? I’m not superstitious. Are either of your parents retired yet and if not, what do they do? No. Dad is a mailman, and while Mom doesn't ~officially~ work yet because she's recovering from intense cancer treatment, she very recently resumed lightly cleaning a church for a small payment. Kinda like a warmup. When did you or do you want to move out of your parents’ house? I wanna move out once I'm in a long-term, stable relationship with someone so we can live together. Me living alone is NOT a good idea. How do you like your current job, or if you’re unemployed, have you been looking for employment? I don't have a job, but when I go to my tattoo appointment, I'm going to ask them if they'd be interested in hiring someone for the front desk. I think it's def something I could do because I love the environment, there's really not that much I need to know (like where the Doritos are, dealing with exact change, answering a dozen unique questions), it's not insanely busy, and the occasional phone call would challenge my anxiety and just be a minor inconvenience to me until I got used to it. My partial hospitalization program really got me wanting to fight back against what gives me anxiety, to truly expose myself to what scares me, while not going totally overboard with it. It was encouraging to hear my therapist there thought it was a magnificent idea for me. I decided I wanted to ask while at the parlor getting work done to show serious interest (like I'm not just some random chick walking in and asking for a job), as well as let the people warm up to me. I'm trying not to get my hopes up too much, but damn am I wishing. I want it so badly. What kind of booze did you last take shots of? I've never taken shots.

#survey #surveys #questions

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yikesola · 5 years

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Hospital Update—

howdy! did i emo post about feeling sick and going home from work and then didn’t post for a few days except to complain and say “i’m okay! i’m in hospital but i’m okay” 😦

oops, i guess i did

so if i worried you with that i’m truly sorry, and i want to emphasize the i’m okay bits of this story and the fact that i am still definitely okay but still definitely shook up and exhausted and processing that this week even really happened. so i’m gonna try to go over what went down and y’all aren’t allowed to make fun of me if it’s not as funny as my usual writing, deal? deal!🥰 i just have had a verrry shitty time with the fact that so much that happened is a blur and i kinda depend a lot on my interpretation of events, and i want to write it down so i have some kind of record before i lose even more details— and that can mean that while writing this out it’s gonna actually be a litttle tmi, and more medical mumbo jumbo than you care about, but hey what level of social media isn’t dripping in performativity? what else am i gonna do, besides type this out? watch more family feud? wait for my next potassium horsepill?

so i legit just thought i had a flu last week, thought i’d need to just sleep off the nausea and fever and body aches and tummy troubles, have some soup, have some sprite and gatorade, have some saltines, have some tylenol. i had been complaining for a few days about not feeling well and thought that’d be the worst of it as i never really get sick and when i do i never do much about it other than being a pioneer woman and suffering through it. and this post would be soooooo boring if that were the case— don’t worry, it was not the flu.

so something cracked in my blood after i went to sleep to try to feel better, and my body did that autoimmune thing that bodies do where it said “hey..... something’s trying to kill us. what if we died first?? that’ll show em!” and my blood platelets started eating themselves. not ,, good.....

meanwhile it was the next morning and i was supposed to get ready for work but i still felt like shit (because my body was torpedoing itself) so my dear memere coming to check up on me saw me wild and vomit-strewen, except i wasn’t actually wild at all i was just shutting down blood-utilizing organ by one and imagining that i was this wild Romantic mrs rochester in my burning nightgown while my aunt and memere quibbled over whether they could get me into the car to try urgent care. in my haze i heard that and my dumb ass was like “is it that necessary??” and luckily my dumb mouth wasn’t functioning at the time bc she didn’t say nothing and instead my relatives called an ambulance. our little mountain town has its own hospital, that’s a nice part of the story! it’s a nice little hospital!

the paramedic was lovely and tried to get me sweatpants because it’s november. i didn’t listen to her because my fever was insane and i was more concerned with making sure my cats weren’t in the way of the gurney 🤪#yikesolabranding

i had the same paramedic in the ambulance with me when they sent me to the hospital in the big city and i spent the whole 90 minute drive talking about how much i love those fucking cats

that’s beside the point, but i want to be clear about who i am at my core apparently, always talking about the gals 😻

so i get to the hospital and this is the first black out. i guess technically second because of when it all started, but let’s pick up with me waking up in the hospital. i have nine plasma. i have a fever of 105. i’m being given a blood transfusion, thanks high schoolers who wanted to get out of running the mile in PE that day!

they throw their dartboard tests and decide i have TTP—

basically, they just need to trick my blood into calling off the attack. how are they gonna do that? they’re gonna confuse the blood, overwhelm it, overcrowd it. they’re gonna get me to the fancy city hospital and treat my veins like frosting piping bags.

it’s snowing— no helicopter for me. i have a catheter at this point btw, and this is one of the parts that i know is tmi but ....... ladies and friends, y’all ever had a catheter?? 😩🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪 i’m dying and legit think i’d rather piss myself to death, it hurts that bad. we take an ambulance down to the valley, i complain enough about the catheter that they finally take it out for which i apologize incessantly (something that’s probably more annoying than the original complaining but i could die in my own piss comfortable and happy so whatever let’s not worry about it.) i pass out again.

i wake up in ICU. i’m assured i am neither pregnant nor have AIDS. good news✌️ especially considering some family history i won’t dive into here. they’re saying the catheter word again and that scares me bc ow, but don’t worry! this one is going in my neck :) it’s how we’re gonna save my life—

we pump thirteen (13) bags of plasma into my neck via dialysis. it works so well they decide they’re gonna do it for a week! i am weeping through the entire 90 minute procedure btw, and apologizing for it. i’m a Fun Patient!

i pass out again.

i wake up to another assurance that i am still unpregnant and don’t have AIDS. hmmm glad those ones stick!

my aunt is begging me to rub my two brain cells together so i can unlock my phone. i do, which is interesting considering when asked the year i repeatedly answer 1992 and 1994. but my 4digit phone passcode? try and wipe that from me, bitch ass stroke

my aunt calls my dad. he is less of a jerk than he could be :) he thinks my uninsured ass should move to the hospital he works at in california. fucking comedian

i text some friends waiting in my hospital bed. it’s a messy text. if you’re a friend who got one of those texts, bless your reading comprehension abilities and please know that my intention was to say something like “i don’t want to worry you, I’ve checked into the hospital but am okay” but it was like in pooh’s grand adventure when pooh bear spilt honey all over christopher robin’s note that literally said “DONT worry about me, i’m NOT going far away” and read it as “worry about me, i’m going far away” and basically i should’ve taken the opportunity to pass out again instead of trying to text lol

i did call one friend instead of text and she was at dinner with her husband, so sent a little “call you back later!” before listening to the voicemail and the poor dear felt very bad for blowing me off, though i promise i did not feel blown off, i shouldn’t have called at dinner time like a damn telemarketer!

so i wake up again and it’s been two days 😞😞 whoopsie! they’ve done more plasma, i’m stable, and my brain is coming back. I’m BORED. i’m trapped in my body and can’t move and in incredible pain! i’m covered in bruises. i’ve vomited on myself. it’s time to pump me with more plasma. while they’re doing the 40min prep work for that, i am drenched in confusion, like that camouflage spell in hp5. i start screaming apologies (even when my brain is broke i can apologize, social feminization is a hell of a drug) to my doctors who ask me who the president is and i become the “don’t make me say it” meme. that made us all feel a little better.

they pump their plasma. my episode passes. i have a violet allergic reaction all over my body. they pump some benadryl. it goes away.

i can eat solid food! by “solid food” i mean strawberry jello. they tell me to order food of more substance. i order a meatloaf, and pass out before it arrives. i feel bad, eat it cold. i have Never had a better meatloaf, although if i’m being perfectly honest she was closer to a salisbury steak. genuilnely, *chefs kiss*

it’s day five, it’s time for me to leave the ICU. this fancy new room has a toilet :) and a shower! i finally get that vomit out of my hair. my aunt brings me my glasses; they’ve been on my bedside table this whole time

day six is a petulant day ..... idk why but my neck catheter was killing worse than usual and the plasma treatments had been slowly getting more bearable but then this day ,, wasn’t. and suddenly this all felt like a lot of hoops to jump through. and i had some “this isn’t fair🥺” moping as though not being dead isn’t wicked cool enough on its own. whatever, i’m feeling a lot better today, and y’all were really nice about my grumbling so thank you for that, without an ouce of facetiousness🥰

day seven, thanksgiving! i’m finally awake early enough for breakfast. i have fruit loops and laugh at mr amazing’s pain. i have hospital turkey for thanksgiving. it’s as bad as hospital turkey has to be, i can’t blame it for that. my memere sends two blank text messages. she’s 84, so i interpret them as “happy turkey day” and “love you”

i have what is supposed to be my last plasma treatment. before they pull my neck catheter out, they decide it willl not be. i’ll have at least one more in the morning. they’re still not comfortable, but i don’t cry through all 90minutes now. only like ,, 70 minutes of it🤙 maybe i’ll break under an hour tomorrow.

that’s all for now— at this time discharge is looking like monday or tuesday. my TTP recovery is likely, just a matter of time. i’m having a really hard time looking at my phone screeen (typing this has taken on and off 4hrs of dizzy and break) but so look forward to getting back into things that make me happy like japhan content and all the fests and kiss prompts i was working on before this. thanks for listening to this poor approximation of what i remember of my hospital experience! ✨✨🥰 sorry idk how to add a damn read more

#me talking #my face

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aww-writing-no · 5 years

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For Winterhawk Week, Day 3

Ao3 Link

Bond:

Clint looked up from the cash register at Strike Bean Delta when he heard the door open and a cacophony of voices filled the small shop. Things had been quiet this morning, but with the new recruits arriving at Camp Lehigh today he hadn’t expected it to stay that way for long.

Sometimes Clint hated being right.

A whole pack of rowdy young men in army fatigues jostled for space as they stared at the menu above Clint’s head. He was about to roll his eyes at their ridiculous posturing when he laid eyes on one of them and felt a sharp pang of - something.

There was nothing particularly remarkable about him. Grey-blue eyes and brown hair cropped army regulation short, he looked the same as half the kids who came through here for training. Yet Clint felt an immediate bond. Not lust. Definitely not lust, but more like… an old, comfortable friendship. Which was ridiculous because they’d never met before.

When grey-blue eyes came up to the counter to place his order - medium dark-roast with extra room for cream - he paused, hand in the air and blinking slowly as he went to hand Clint his money. He shook his head slightly before asking, “Have we met?”

Clint took the money and counted back his change before replying, “I don’t think so”.

He seemed as confused as Clint, but didn’t press it, walking away to let Clint take the next order. On his way out he stuffed a five dollar bill in the tip jar, which seemed to indicate something, though Clint had no idea what it could be.

Like many of the new recruits, grey-blue eyes became a regular over the next few months. Strike Bean Delta was the closest coffeeshop to the base, and got a steady stream of business from army folk who quickly tired of whatever institutional swill they served in the mess hall.

With time Clint learned his name was James, but he went by Bucky of all things. He learned that he was eighteen, fresh out of high school, and had enlisted with his best friend Steve. He had big plans for when he got out of the army, most of which involved going to school and getting some kind of advanced science degree. He took his coffee with a frankly obscene amount of cream and sugar, and had a penchant for apricot cheese danishes.

Basically, he was nothing like Clint.

Clint took his coffee black, and often straight from the pot when he wasn’t working. He wasn’t a big fan of pastry, possibly because only ate them when they were stale - two days old and unfit to sell to customers, even at a discount. Technically he was supposed to throw them out, but he wasn’t about to go wasting food that was still edible.

Clint had dropped out of high school at sixteen and immediately started doing whatever it took to keep food on the table. You know, when he managed to find a place that actually had a table. He was living on the street and had started getting into some real shady shit when he’d been approached by a guy who did outreach for a youth shelter. Somehow between Nick and Phil and the other counselors at SHIELD (Shelter for Homeless something or other - Clint could never remember the full name) they managed to help him get his life back on track. They weren’t good tracks. They were rusty and uneven and usually full of giant splinters, but they were his tracks all the same.

When Bucky told him he’d been assigned to a unit and would be shipping out the next day, Clint told him to stay safe and impulsively scrawled his phone number on the side of Bucky’s cup. Bucky stuffed a twenty dollar bill in the tip jar on his way out.

Clint got a text from an unfamiliar number a couple weeks later. It had a picture of the most dilapidated coffeemaker Clint had ever seen, and looked like it had been set up on a stack of crates in some kind of tent. The text read “I’d kill for a cold brew right now. -Bucky”.

Clint laughed and sent back a picture of the fruit danishes in the display case.

“Fuck, I’d kill for those too,” was the reply.

They’d been texting on and off for close to a year - mostly idle chatter and pictures of deserts and humvees (Bucky) or coffee and dogs (Clint) - when Clint woke up screaming in the middle of the night, feeling like his arm was on fire.

“What’s going on with your arm?” Natasha asked him later that day.

Clint shook out his arm for what felt like the millionth time, wishing the pins and needles feeling would go away. He really didn’t want to drop a pot of hot coffee on himself today. It wouldn’t be the first time, but he tried not to make a habit out of it. “I probably just slept on it wrong,” he told her.

Weeks later, his arm was still giving him problems.

“Go see a doctor; you probably have a pinched nerve,” Natasha told him.

“A doctor? Who can afford that?” he asked. Health insurance was for people with Real Jobs. He worked at a coffee shop. Besides, he was more worried about the fact he’d sent Bucky a picture of the cutest samoyed he’d ever seen and Bucky still hadn’t responded. One time he’d sent back a picture of one of the bomb sniffer dogs, and Clint still wasn’t over the cuteness of the german shepherd in its little vest and goggles. Clint wasn’t too proud to admit he was hoping for a reprise.

When Bucky stepped into Strike Bean Delta almost six months later, Clint wouldn’t have recognised him if he hadn’t felt that sharp pang of something when he walked in the door.

Bucky was wearing civvies, long hair tied up in a messy half-bun, and a lot more shadows under his eyes than when he’d left. Most notably, though, was the distinct lack of a left arm.

Clint’s own arm went numb at the sight, and the blender he was holding fell to the ground with a loud crash. Strawberry-banana smoothie coated his shoes and oozed slowly across the floor.

“Aww, smoothie, no,” he whined, and a wet towel hit him in the face, courtesy of Natasha.

Cleaning up the smoothie gave him plenty of time to try to sort through his feelings, because he was having a lot of them. Like, a LOT of them. By the time he finished cleaning up his mess, his feelings still weren’t sorted, but Bucky was sitting awkwardly at one of the tables with a coffee in front of him.

“Talk to him,” Natasha said, forcing a plate with an apricot cheese danish into his hands. “Don’t drop it,” she added a second later.

“But Nat,” he whined, sneaking a glance at Bucky who was staring into his coffee like it held the secrets of the universe.

“Talk. To. Him,” she repeated, turning Clint around by the shoulders and giving him a literal shove in the right direction.

“Uhh, I’m glad you’re back,” Clint said, sliding the plate in front of Bucky and taking the seat across from him. He nodded at the missing arm. “I’m guessing that’s why I stopped getting pictures of cute dogs in uniform?”

Bucky looked surprised, then let out a sharp bark of laughter. “Doctors tend to frown on having animals in the ICU,” he said. “Didn’t think you’d be interested in pictures of cups of jello.”

Clint smiled, nervousness relaxing into a feeling of ease he seldom felt with other people. He rubbed his left arm unconsciously, telling Bucky, “You’d be surprised.”

That got another laugh out of him and Bucky’s shoulders relaxed as he reached over to take a bite out of the danish. “Oh man, I’ve wanted this for so long” he said, tipping his head back and closing his eyes briefly. “You do not know how many nights I dreamed about coming back here just to eat one of these things.”

Clint remembered all the times he’d had an unexpected pastry craving over the past few months and thought that maybe he did.

“Who are you?” he asked abruptly. As soon as the words left his mouth Clint realized how crazy he must sound, but judging by the look Bucky leveled at him, he knew exactly what Clint was asking.

Bucky took another bite out of the danish and chewed slowly, looking Clint over as if he didn’t know quite what to do with him. “I suppose I could ask you the same question,” he drawled as he finished chewing. “Who’s the mysterious barista that keeps showing up in my dreams?”

“You dream about me?” Clint asked.

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “You don’t?”

Clint shook his head. “No, not really. I just get these… I dunno, feelings? I don’t know how to explain it. I’m pretty sure I felt when you lost your arm.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Bucky said, clearly startled. “That’s- that’s so messed up. I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Clint said with a shrug. It wasn’t like he had any control over it - like either of them had any control over whatever the heck this was. “Still doesn’t answer my question, though.”

“Last week I dreamt you lost your keys. You thought you’d dropped them on the subway and you had to have the neighbor let you in,” he told Clint, eyes seemingly focused somewhere past Clint’s left ear. “Last month I dreamt you were at a gun range, except you were hitting the targets using a bow and arrows. Last year when I was deployed I dreamt about you making coffee more times than I could count. One time you were making it while wearing a crocodile costume. I thought I was just missing home, but now? I don’t know.”

Clint put his head in his hands as Bucky continued to stare off into space. He should probably be getting back to work soon, but this was too weird for words. He’d definitely done all of those things in real life. “It wasn’t a crocodile costume,” he said finally, at a loss for anything better to say. “It was Abigail the Alligator, the mascot for the sporting goods shop I buy my arrows from. They booked a coffee service for a special event, and they offered me a bonus for wearing the costume.”

Bond, Part II: Here

#Hawkeye #Coffeeshop AU #winterhawkweek #winterhawkweek2019

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waywardnerd67 · 5 years

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Perfect Size

Title: Perfect Size Square Filled: Size Kink Pairing: Dean x Plus Size!Reader Characters: Dean Winchester, Plus Size!Reader Warnings: Fluff/Smut Summary: No matter how many times Dean tries to reassure (Y/N) that he is attracted to her, she always shy away from him. Finally, he takes matters into his own hands. Word Count: 3012 Created for: @spnkinkbingo

Looking in the mirror, (Y/N) pulled her flannel over the bulge of her stomach. Even with all the hunting and training she had gained some weight. She blamed mainly herself for not being able to say no to Dean whenever he would bring her home hamburger and fries instead of the salad she had requested. He did not understand since he could eat whatever he wanted and still look like a damn model.

She took of the flannel and grabbed another one that she recently purchased that was a size bigger. Once she slipped it on, she felt her body relax seeing that all her rolls were well hidden. She put her boots on and opened her door immediately being hit with the smell of bacon.

“Great, Dean’s cooking.” She mumbled making her way down to the kitchen.

Walking in she saw Dean standing in front of the stove shaking his cute little butt to music playing within his own head. Sam was sitting at the table reading from his tablet, “Morning (Y/N).” he said looking up to take a drink of his coffee.

“Morning Sam is it okay if I have some of your fruit this morning?” she asked as he simply nodded at her.

“Fruit?! Forget the fruit sweetheart! I made you the Dean Winchester breakfast special.” He proud displayed a plate filled with two fried eggs, a load of bacon, pancakes drowning in butter and syrup with some red-skinned potatoes.

Her mouth dropped opened slightly as a wide smile crossed the gorgeous hunter’s face, “Dean… I can’t…” she began to say but he placed a piece of bacon on her lips.

“I know right? I’m like a master chef or something. Sit. Sit.” He said as she chewed on the delicious piece of bacon.

(Y/N) sat down the sound of her seat creaking echoing in her ears. Sam looked up at her sympathetically knowing the struggles she had with her weight. Many nights he had stayed up with her as she poured her heart out about how she wanted to be thin and pretty. He trained with her most days and really had helped her finding a good balance of a workout schedule. The only thing neither of them could control was Dean always feeding her crap.

She stared down at the plate in front of her as Dean watched and waited for her to take a bite. It all smelt and looked delicious, but she could also feel her jeans getting tighter from just looking at it. “Come on, eat up!” he said like an excited kid in a candy store.

She took a bite of the pancakes which were cooked to perfection and she hummed her approval as she chewed. (Y/N) watched as Dean’s olive eyes darken slightly and his tongue slowly swept over his full lips. She slowly made her way through the plate not being able to eat it all which then Dean took and finished.

(Y/N) felt like the girl from Willy Wonka who turned into a blueberry and had to be rolled out her stomach was so full. Looking down at herself she swore her stomach looked twice as big as it did when she got dressed.

The rest of the day was filled with researching in the library, an afternoon training session with Sam where thankfully he got them both salads for lunch afterwards. Finally, movie night with Dean in his room. She changed into her flannel pajama bottoms and over sized t-shirt with her slippers to make her way down to his room. Opening the door, she found him sprawled out across his bed in sweatpants and black t-shirt.

“Winchester, you’re going to have to move over, so my fat ass can fit on the bed.” She said smacking his firm legs.

He rolled over sitting up, “We fit just fine on here and I happen to love your ass.”

She rolled her eyes at him grabbing one of his pillows and placing it in front of her to lean on. Dean was always flirting with her, but she knew it meant nothing. That was just the way he was with everybody. Though when she was alone in her room she would often let herself fantasize about Dean really having feelings for her. Lord knows, she had feelings for him since the moment she laid eyes on him.

They were watching Dean’s favorite horror movie sitting side by side. His long legs stretched out crossing at his ankles while she sat cross legged her thigh resting against his. Dean brought his arm down around her as his hand gently rubbed her back. (Y/N) shivered as his fingers brushed over one of her back rolls.

She glanced over to see him smirking his eyes never leaving the screen. When the credits were rolling she began to get up, but Dean gripped her hip keeping her firmly in place. “Stay for a little while longer, please.” He asked pouting slightly.

“O-Okay, are we going to watch another movie?” she stammered as a wide smile spread across his face.

“(Y/N), we’re close friends. Right?” he asked sitting up and leaning in closer to her.

She swallowed the large lump in her throat as she nodded, “Y-Yep.” She squeaked.

“Why is that I know so little about you then? Like, if you’re ticklish or not.” There was a mischievous look in his green eyes as she felt his hand on her hip creeping up her shirt.

(Y/N) placed her hand on top of his stopping it from moving any further, “To answer your question, yes I am ticklish. Here’s a better question, what are you doing?”

He chuckled removing his hand and bringing it up behind his neck, “I guess I was trying to flirt with you because I like you, (Y/N).”

Her heart was pounding in her ears as she stared at him shocked, “You… you what?” she asked the urge to run propelling her body to get up out of his bed.

Dean quickly followed her, “I like you. I’ve always like you, but I know I’m not all that great of a catch. This last hunt when you were hurt it just made me realize that I must at least try. Try to see if something is here between us.”

(Y/N) shook her head, “Dean, you… I mean, I’m definitely not your type. You’re funny, smart, gorgeous and fit. I’m literally a bag of potatoes or large bowl of jello.”

“I like jello.” He said his lips curling into a smirk as he stepped closer to her.

She held out her arms to him, “Dean, I can’t. I think you like me because you know deep down I’ve always had feelings for you and you’re trying to be nice. There’s no need to be nice though because I know guys like you don’t like fat chicks like me. It’s fine. So, let’s just end all of this now and go to bed.”

She turned quickly leaving his room never turning back even hearing him call out to her. As soon as she was safely inside her room she crawled into bed with tears streaming down her face. The only man she ever dreamed of being with had said he liked her, and she had pushed him away. She knew deep down, she would never be enough for him and he would leave her for someone skinnier and prettier.

(Y/N) did not know when she fell asleep, but she woke up when she felt her bed dip down in front of her. By the smell of whiskey, she knew who it was, and he heart began to beat rapidly. “Dean?” she said as he placed one of his fingers on her lips.

“Shhh.” His warm breath tickling her cheek as he pressed his lips against it.

She tried to push him away, but he grabbed her wrist pinning them above her head, “Are you pushing me away because you’re insecure about your body or because you really don’t want this. If it’s for reason number two then I will stop now, but only if it’s that reason.”

(Y/N) could not lie to him even though she knew she should in order to save her own heart. He took her silence as her answer and brought her arms back down. His lips kissing her hand up her forearm to her giggly bicep and shoulder. When his lips reached her collarbone, she let out a breathy sigh.

She felt him smile against her skin as his arm wrapping around her waist as his lips kept moving towards her own. Dean hovered over her lips, “May I?” he whispered.

“Yes.” She said breathlessly as his full lips pressed against hers. His tongue swept across her bottom lip asking permission than she granted.

He tasted like mint and whiskey. She slipped her hand up into his hair loving the feeling of his silky hair between her fingers. He growled pulling her bottom lip between his teeth gently. His large hand was making its way up her back where once again she shivered when he touched the rolls of her skin.

“You shiver whenever I do that, why?” he asked pulling slightly away from her.

She bit her lip nervously, “I don’t want to disgust you.” It was an honest confession and even in the dark of her room she could see Dean’s wide eyes.

“Oh sweetheart, there is absolutely nothing about you that could ever disgust me. You are incredibly beautiful inside but especially on the outside.” He said unhooking her bra with his one hand. “Please (Y/N/N), I want to see all of you. I need to see all of your beauty.”

(Y/N) nervously sat up so Dean could lift her t-shirt over her head along with her bra. She heard him suck in a breath, “Jesus (Y/N), you’re even more gorgeous than I could have ever imagine.”

“Winchester, if I’m going to be shirtless then you better be as well.” She said earning a soft laugh as she watched him pull off his t-shirt.

No matter how many times she had seen him shirtless rather him coming out of the shower or having to patch him up after a hunt he still mesmerize her. “I love it when you get demanding with me.”

Dean crawled up her body settling between her legs as she laid back onto her mattress. His warm skin pressing against hers as he kissed her again. His lips pressed against her neck as he grinded his hips into her making her gasps slightly.

“Feel the effect you have on me, (Y/N). That is all from seeing you, being around you.” She felt his hard length against her as his mouth moved further down.

His hand covered her breast kneading softly as a moan escaped her lips. He brought his lips around her nipple with his tongue leisurely lapping over it. “Dean…” she sighed pushing her breast further against his mouth.

(Y/N) could feel her arousal soaking through her panties and as if her body was on autopilot she lifted her hips against him to relieve some of the pressure building within her. “Don’t worry sweetheart, I’m going to take good care of you.”

His lips left a wet trail of kisses down her stomach as his hands slid down her curvy sides to her pants waistband. Lifting himself long enough to pull her bottoms and panties down her thick legs tossing them to the floor. Instinctively she closed her thighs together.

“Don’t hide from me now, sweet girl.” Dean’s voice raspy and deep. His hands resting on her knees as she slowly opened herself to him. A low groan came from deep within him as he looked down at her.

He ran one long finger against her slick folds bring out a strangled breath from her lips, “Good god, you’re already so wet for me. Now, I have to see if you taste as sweet as I think you do.”

Watching Dean Winchester’s head lower between her legs was better than any fantasy she could ever dream of. His sandy brown hair wildly sticking up and tickling her inner thighs. Her back arched off the mattress as his tongue took one long stride against her.

“So sweet…” he murmured as he took another leisurely swipe of her as if she would a lollipop.

His hands pressed against her thighs spreading her legs a little wider as he focused on her sensitive clit. “Oh god… Dean!” she cried out gripping the sheets on either side of her.

(Y/N) shamelessly grinded her hips against his mouth feeling the pressure deep within her getting ready to burst. Dean pulled his mouth away kissing her thigh as he pushed one finger into her entrance. A deep moan echoed off her walls as he pulled out and pushed two fingers in her.

“Come on sweetheart, I want to feel you come on my fingers.” He said kissing up her leg. He was mercilessly pumping his thick fingers in her curling them in just the right spot. It was not long until she was calling out his name as the dam busted and she came hard.

She was barely coming off her high when she watched Dean get up pulling his pants and boxer down his long bowlegs. She watched as he smirked down at her grasping his hard length stroking it. (Y/N) wanted to feel it within her own hands and taste him. She licked her lips making him chuckle.

“There will be plenty of time for that, but right now I need to be buried deep within you.” He said crawling back onto the bed laying next to her.

“Dean… what are you…” she began to ask them realized what he wanted. “No, I’ll squish you.”

He pulled her arm gently getting her to roll onto her side. His hand guiding hers down over his length as he sucked in a breath. He was large, and her walls clenched at how wonderful he would feel within her. “Baby, you are not going to squish me. The only thing you’re going to do is fulfill a long-time fantasy of mine.” His voice was straining as her hand slowly stroked him.

She swallowed hard before lifting herself up kneeling beside him. He placed her hands on his shoulders helping her to brace herself as she straddled his hips. His cock nestled between her slick lips as he gripped her thighs. As she lifted herself he held himself as she slowly sank down onto him.

“Fuck.” He groaned as he was buried deep within her. “Shit, you feel so good sweetheart.”

(Y/N)’s fingers were digging into his shoulders as she got used to the way he stretched her. Never before had she felt to connected or full by a man. She looked down at him as a lopsided grin spread across his face. His hands gripped her hips urging her to move. She leaned forward slightly slowly pulling him out and then moving back against him.

He little grunts and whimpers gave her the confidence to move a little fast sitting up slightly as his hands gathered her breasts. “Fuck, baby just like that. You look so damn beautiful riding my cock.” His husky voice fueled her to ride him a little harder.

The sounds of their skin smacking together echoed throughout the room turning her on even more. He pulled her down on top of him rolling them so her back was pressed against the mattress. He put her legs over his shoulders as he pushed into her wrapping his hands around her thighs.

He thrusted into her at a feverish pace. She could feel every inch of him stretching and hitting all the right spots. He wrapped her legs around him as he leaned forward capturing her mouth with his. “Come on sweetheart let me feel you come. Feel you clenched around my cock.”

He reached between them his thumb brushing against her clit a couple of times before she was crying out for him, “Yes, just like that Dean! Oh god, I’m coming!”

Dean buried his head in the crook of her neck pounding into her chasing after his own release. “Fuck (Y/N), I’m so close.” He grunted.

“Come for me, Dean. Come now.” She panted and felt his body go rigid as he pumped into her. His body was trembling as he slowly pressed into her one more time before resting on top of her.

His breathing was coming out in short bouts, “Am I hurting you?” he asked trying to lift himself off of her.

She wrapped her arms and legs around him keeping him in place not wanting to break their connection yet, “Stay.” She whispered hearing him chuckle.

After a few minutes she let him go whimpering as he slipped out of her. He rolled over pulling her with him as she wrapped her arm around his stomach. “(Y/N) can I tell you something?” he asked after a few moments of silence.

“Of course.” She answered nervously.

His hand was stroking her hair as his other hand laced their fingers together on his stomach. “Ever since I met you whenever I was with another woman I also imagine she was you. To be honest, I never have liked small woman. I just never found a curvy woman who would actually give me the time of day.”

(Y/N) looked up at him surprised then she started laughing. He scoffed at her, “That was an honest confession and you’re laughing at me.”

“I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you, I promise.” She reached up touching his cheek gently, “Any woman who is big like me would have never believed in a million years that a man like you would be into them. Their loss because wow you’re more amazing than I could have ever fantasized.”

She leaned up kissing his lips feeling him smile, “Well no one else could ever compare to you. You are perfect in every way including the perfect size.”

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nicolewoo · 5 years

Text

First Date

I was a little behind schedule and was starting to get frantic... although I suspect it was as much about seeing him again as it was about work. Then there was the meeting I'd had with Stephanie and Paul today. That was weighing heavily on my mind. I was just thinking I'd get my work done in time when I heard the doorbell. Hmmm. “He likes to be early; like me.” I think to myself after my heart skipped a beat.

I got up from the temporary work station I'd made for myself and went to open the door. The closer I got to the door, the more excited I got. I don't even know how I was breathing. I touched the doorknob and took a deep breath before I opened the door.

In front of me was the most beautiful man I'd ever seen, and his ear to ear smile turned me into a pile of mush. The handsome features, the tousled hair, the searing blue eyes that seemed to look into my soul.

“Hey,” said Fergal.

“Hi.” I have no idea how I got the word out, but my voice didn't crack.

“How are you?” Fergal asked as I stood awkwardly in the doorway with him.

“I'm good. How are you?” I replied.

He placed his right hand on my waist and leaned in to gently kiss me on the cheek. “Can I come in for a minute?” He asked.

I opened the door wider, “Yes. I've got a couple more minutes of work to do. I'm sorry. I tried to get it done before you showed.”

“No problem,” Fergal said kindly. “I'm a couple of minutes early, and you've had a busy morning.” He closed the door and leaned back against a table in the entry. “I wanted to talk to you before we go out.” He spread his legs a bit and took me by both hands, drawing me close to him in between his legs. It was then that he gave me a real kiss. That gentle soft one that turned me into jello last night. As the kiss ended, we both had to catch our breath. “I missed you.” Fergal said sofly

“Ditto.” I joked hoping to dissolve the sexual tension between us, and it worked, he smiled ear to ear, and his blue eyes sparkled.

“So, here's the t'ing. We are in Orlando, and NXT fans are everywhere. I'm sure I will be recognized as we're out and about. I brought a hat and sunglasses, but that's not going to buy us much time.” He reached up and brushed my cheek with his thumb. “I already know that you're going to be an important part of my future,” He said tentatively, looking at my face to see my reaction. I obliged him with a shy smile. That made him smile. “Ok.” He said taking a breath, as if I'd given him exactly what he wanted. “I don't care if people find out about us, BUT....” His tone turned somber. “The minute we become public, you're going to get trashed on social media. It never fails. Some fans just can't handle me dating anyone. You've been through enough lately. I don't want to see you hurt. You're on social media all the time, you're not going to be able to avoid seeing it.” He leaned forward and kissed my forehead. “The second option we have is to not give anyone a reason to talk about us. We can try to keep our relationship a secret, but that means when we're in public, we can't even touch each other. The decision is all yours.”

He was right. I knew it. I had seen the thrashing Cathy Kelley took when Finn's public found out about them, and it was enough to break them up. “Yeah. You're right. I'm not ready for that.”

“So, you want to keep it just between us for now?” He asked.

“Yes,” I nodded.

He wrapped his arms tighter around me and treated me to another soft, gentle kiss. My whole body was on fire. How was I supposed to go out, and not touch him, after that kiss? “Ok, I said, I really only need 5 minutes to finish my work.” I said tearing myself away from him.

Fergal released me from his grip, and motioned that I should go finish. “Do you need anything?” I asked as I led him into the kitchen and took a seat in front of my laptop on the counter.

“Nah, babe,” He said. “Is it 'k if I catch the score of the Tottenham game t'ough?”

“Sure,” I said as I pointed to the living room.

“T'anks luv.” He said and went to check the score.

I finished my work and quickly checked how I looked in the bathroom mirror. I looked ok, but certainly not as good as last night after Stephanie had sent hair and makeup artists to the condo. I looked more.... me. “Are they winning?” I said as I entered the living room.

“Yeah.” Ferg was grinning ear to ear. He reached over and took my hand. He pulled me close to him. “You look amazin'” Ferg said. It was as if he could read my mind. He leaned in and kissed me passionately. Immediately, fire spread throughout my whole body. This man had way too much control over me already.

“I'm still in my meeting clothes from earlier.” I laughed.

“Do ya want ta change? I can wait.” Fergal said.

I mused for a second, “I.... I don't know what we're doing today, so I don't know what to wear.”

“Ahhhhh,” He said but the crowd cheering caused him looked over to the TV. “Ah, sorry. Tottenham scored.”

I just started laughing. “I know you're a huge fan. It's ok.”

“We can do whatever you want today.” He said. I was finally able to tear my eyes away from his face long enough to see he was wearing jeans and a polo. He didn't wear jeans often, but when he did, he looked so good in them. I made a mental note to check how his ass looked in the jeans later. I smiled a bit, and Fergal said “What's so funny?”

“Nothing. I'm just looking forward to today. Listen,” I changed my focus to today. “I'm sure you have some ideas of what we can do. You live here.” I said.

“Well, how would ya feel about a hike after lunch? We could go swimming t'ough if ya'd prefer. Or we could visit Disney World.” My mind went into panic mode. A swimsuit? Oh Hell No! I was NOT ready to be in a swimsuit in front of him.....Disney? Way too many people for my mood. “I think I'd prefer the hike,” I said.

“T’en we'll hike.” He said. “Why don't you go change?” I did. Going from slacks to jeans and a blouse to a shirt more suitable for hiking. I also grabbed a light jacket. As I passed through by the kitchen, I grabbed my Ipad and a notebook.

“Already ready?” He asked, his eyebrows rising from surprise.

“I don't take long to get ready.” I chuckled.

“It's because you're so beautiful,” he flirted.

I rolled my eyes jokingly. “You going to be this charming all day?” I asked.

He circled my waist with his hands, “I'm gonna try my best.” He smiled.

This banter was calming me down, but every time he kissed me, my mind began to spin, my body began to throb. This man had me completely under his spell.

“Is... Is sushi ok for lunch?” He asked.

I answered with a smile and a nod. “I love sushi.”

“Great! I know just the spot.” He kissed me lightly and asked if I was ready. How could I ever be ready to go somewhere that I couldn't touch him or kiss him? “What's with the Ipad and notebook?” He inquired.

“Cover story!” I chimed proud of myself. “We can pretend we are in a business meeting as long as we look at the Ipad or notebook on occasion.”

“Great idea.” He smiled. “Let's go get some lunch. I'm starvin'” he said.

As the door to the condo closed behind me, I felt a sadness that I couldn't touch him, but I was excited to get to know him better.

The sushi was excellent. I realized we had just about the same taste in sushi. We split one nori roll. I had a couple pieces of sushi, and he had two more rolls. We both detested the ginger, and play-fought over who got the most wasabi. In the end, he just ordered more wasabi.

After we ate, and the plates were cleared, Fergal got serious. “What was t'is morning's meeting about?” He asked.

I paused to focus on this morning's meeting. “Ah that.” I said, and I hung my head. There was no way I could wrap my head around the offer I got this morning..... much less make a decision when under Finn's spell.

“Yeah, T'at,” He repeated. “Musta been some serious deal. You look.... Well, you look like the WWE made you an offer you can't refuse.” he chuckled.

“I definitely have some decisions to make.” I said as the waitress left the bill. Ferg was quick to grab it and move it out of my reach.

“Don' even t'ink about it.” He said as I reached for my purse. “Let's get t'is straight. I'll be paying for everyt'ing from now on. Not negotiable.” He put his credit card in the server book.

I started to protest, but when I looked into his eyes, I saw something I hadn't seen before in person. I saw determination. He wasn't going to let me argue. So I simply nodded yes.

“I really need some time to think about this morning's meeting.” I said. Dare I say it? Fergal had admitted earlier that he wanted me to be part of his life. Maybe it would be ok to say what I wanted to say. “I.... well..... there WAS an offer..... a very good offer. But...... I don't think I can make up my mind until...” I looked at the table. “... well, until you and I figure out what's happening between us.” The words just spilled out of my mouth, and I panicked immediately. What would he say? Did I go too far? Shit! I cautiously looked up at Fergal.

There was a warm smile on his face. “Got ya.” he said. The waitress returned with the credit card slip to sign. Fergal signed the slip and left a tip in cash.

I wanted to change the subject as fast as possible. I grabbed onto the first thing that came across my mind. “Your accent is stronger today than it was last night. Did you call someone in Ireland this morning?”

He looked surprised, “Yeah. I did. Is my accent t'at much stronger?” He asked.

“It is to me.” I said shyly.

“Yeah, I talked to mum and dad t'is morning. I wanted.....” Now was his time to stammer. “I wanted to tell them about you.”

Ohhhhhhh..... I smiled to let him know it was alright. Just after that we left the restaurant. We didn't talk at all on the way to the hike area, but he held my hand as he drove. We pulled into a campground's parking lot.

“T'ese are some of my favorite trails around here.” He said as he unlocked the trunk of the car. Inside he had a cooler filled with ice, water and some pieces of fruit and jerky. A bag next to the cooler had suntan lotion, towels, his swimsuit that I'd seen in so many pictures, and bug spray. He grabbed a smaller backpack and packed up some food and water and a first aid kit.

“You come prepared.” I joked.

“Absolutely.” He smiled.

The hike was way more difficult than I was used to, but I started to think Ferg planned it that way so he could help me. “I can tell I'm going to have to get more in shape to keep up with you.”

He sat on a large boulder and reached into the backpack for two waters. He handed me one, and smirked. “Don' worry darlin'. I'll help ya get in shape.” The words were innocent enough, but the look on his face was positively devilish. He slid his arm around me, and pulled me close.

“I thought......” I started to say, but he cut me off with a kiss.

“T'ere's nobody here. I can touch you now.” He kissed me again... passionately, and left me breathless. “You ready to hike more?” He asked with a sly grin.

I reached up to kiss him again, almost losing all control as his tongue slipped into my mouth. “You're teasing me, Mr. Devitt.” I protested.

“Yes. Yes I am.” he laughed.

We hiked for another half hour. Just as I was started to get bored with the hike, we went over a small hill, and what awaited on the other side left me speechless. There in front of me was a beautiful vista of a lake, palm trees and flowers. “Nice.” I said admiring the view.

“It's my favorite view.” He whispered in my ear as he came behind me and slid his arms around my waist. “Well, my SECOND favorite view.” he whispered gently in my ear. It was so intimate, my whole body lit on fire again.

As we stood, Ferg licked his lips. He looked nervous. “So, the hike is almost over.” He said. He licked his lips again. “Would it be ok if we went back to your condo? I promise I'll be a gentleman, but I'd like to be able to hold your hand and kiss you. Would that be ok?” He looked so cute when he was nervous. “Do you trust me?” He asked sheepishly.

“I reached my hand to his neck and ran my fingers over the back of his head. “Yes.” I said calmly. “Yes. I trust you.” I said.

We hiked the rest of the trail, which wasn't far at all, and drove back to my condo. “Mind if I clean up?” Fergal asked.

“No problem.” I said. I wanted to get cleaned up too, because that hike definitely made me sweat. I showed Fergal to the spare bathroom. I climbed into my shower and cleaned up very quickly. I wouldn't have time to wash my hair, so I put it in a messy bun, freshened up my makeup and joined Ferg in the living room. I noticed he had showered too, and put on fresh clothes. He really did prepare for everything. He had another soccer game on the TV by the time I got there. He was sitting on the couch, and my first inclination was to straddle his lap. Shit, I thought. I should have taken a cold shower. I gathered my wits and sat next to him. He immediately placed his hand on my leg, which didn't help calm me down. We decided to watch a movie, and I curled up at Ferg's side.

His thumb started tracing circles on my leg. Slowly, sweetly, and yet, every time it neared my thigh, it jolted a shock of fire straight between my legs. Shit! Should I tell him? Was he doing this on purpose? I couldn't think straight. I finally decide to place my hand on his; effectively ending this stroking, but before I could, Fergal's phone rang.

“I'm sorry he said,” reaching for the remote to pause the movie. “I've gotta take this.” He turned the phone screen to me, and I saw that it was Stephanie. I could barely hear her, but I was catching every 2 or 3 words. I was able to figure out she was inviting him to dinner, but I couldn't hear anything else. I got up to grab a couple glasses of water for us.

When I came back, Fergal was off the phone, but my phone started ringing. “Sorry,” I said as I looked at the screen. It was Stephanie. I showed Ferg and he just laughed.

“How has your day been?” Stephanie asked pleasantly.

“Good,” I reported. “I had sushi for lunch and then went on a hike.”

“Great. Are you available for a late dinner?” she asked. Ferg must have heard, because he started nodding yes to me.

“I'd be honored,” I said to Stephanie.

“I'll have a car pick you up at 9. Ok?” She asked.

“That sounds great, I replied. I'll see you at 9.”

When I hung up the phone, Fergal started giggling. “What's so funny?” I asked.

“I'm your ride.” He said. “Stephanie called to see if I'd join you for dinner and then asked me to pick you up.”

I started laughing too. “Do you think she knows you're here?” I asked.

“We did slip off together last night, and a couple people saw us. It's hard to keep any secrets in the WWE.”

“Your right,” I breathed. “Well, I guess we're going to dinner. Crap!” I said.

“What?” he asked.

“I won't be able to touch you again.” I said sadly,

“No. Guess you'll have to do all your touching now.” He joked.

But I didn't laugh. I stood for a minute just looking at him. He started to look confused. I held up a finger to say I needed a minute. I walked out of the room. Standing in the kitchen, I thought about everything. My husband. The offer the McMahons made. Fergal. It was all going to so fast, and I needed to be careful to make good decisions. I can't afford to get swept up in the moment. I thought about the man sitting on my couch. His kindness, his generosity. He was a good man, and he wanted to be with ME. I couldn't believe it, but I wasn't going to waste my chance. I took a deep breath, and steeled myself.

When I walked back in the living room, I walked to the couch and straddled Fergal's lap. His eyes looked concerned. His dick twitched proving he wanted me.

“Whoa, Luv.” Ferg said. He placed his hands on my arms. “I promised I'd be a gentleman.”

“And you have been,” I purred in my sexiest voice.

“And I still am.” he sputtered.

“Fergal,” I said. “I haven't been touched in a very long time. I never thought I'd ever been touched again, and then you came into my life. I want you. I want you so bad, I can barely stand it. I want you with every fiber of my being. If we make love today and you don't call me after, I'll be happy knowing that you were the first man I was with after my husband.... The worst thing that can happen is that the beautiful Fergal Devitt used me as a sex toy.” I giggled at that, but he didn't.

A look of need came over his face. He wrapped his arms around me; one on my waist, one on my neck, and he pulled me down for a slow, soft kiss. “Don' tease me, luv.” He pleaded.

“I'm not teasing. If we're going to continue to see each other, I'm going to spend the next few days punishing my body by denying it what it wants only to give in a few days later. I'd rather just skip over the next few days and have you now.” I leaned over to whisper in his ear. “I want you to make love to me.” I kissed his throat. I didn't have to ask a second time.

His arms pulled me in. As I scooted farther up his lap, I could tell he was fully erect by now. My body responded by throbbing at the feel of it.

His next kiss was not the slow, gentle kiss that had been melting me for 2 days. It was the powerful, passionate, wild kiss that completely broke my defenses. He lowered his arms to my ass and stood up, lifting me up with him. He carried me into the bedroom, kissing me the whole time. He laid me gently on the bed, and continued to kiss me as he sank on top of me.

I started pulling at the hem of his shirt, trying to take his clothes off. He sat up and pulled his shirt off exposing his muscles, his chest, his abs. He licked his lips as he looked down at me, and he started kissing me again. I pushed up, sub-consciously, my body trying to get closer to him. My hands explored his body as he placed kisses on my neck. His fingers digging into my hips. We were both losing control. As he gently nipped at my neck, I knew I couldn't hold out much longer. I leaned up and took my shirt off, and unhooked my red lace bra I'd put on after my shower. He looked for a couple of seconds before laying me down and taking my nipple into his mouth, bra and all. He was using his mouth to move the bra out of the way. Bare nipple met his hot tongue. He began to flick one nipple with his tongue and gently tease the other with his fingers. I thought for sure I was going to explode just from this. That had never happened before, and he stopped just short of it now. As I started to mew, he took both our pants off. He returned his attention to my nipple for just a second as his hand slid between my legs, gently rubbing my clit with his thumb. Oh Fuck! I was going to lose it. He was going to drive me out of my mind with this teasing. He didn't make me wait long. Soon, he had slipped one finger into me. I arched my back in pleasure.

“Darlin', I want you to cum for me.” He whispered in my ear. Then he started kissing me as he slipped a second finger into me, and curled them up to my g-spot. He couldn't have stroked more than two or three times before my first orgasm. He held me tight, feeling me pulse around his fingers, kissing me and saying “Good lass. Good.” I started coming to as he pulled his fingers away from me. I whimpered. “We've got time, luv” he assured me. “You'll come again soon.”

He slowly kissed his way down my body. A quick suck on my nipple sent a jolt through me, but when he started going lower, I melted. My husband was not a fan of giving me oral sex, so it had been years since I felt a tongue on my clit. I quickly learned that Fergal was an expert at oral sex. His tongue going from teasing my clit to invading my pussy to licking my g-spot. One of his hands teased my nipple as I felt myself lose control again.

I heard him hum as he started to drink my juices. It was the sexiest thing I'd ever heard. When I was done shuddering, he moved back up my body, trailing kisses the whole way.

“Are ye ok?” He asked.

“MMMMMM” I couldn't answer. I simply nodded my head.

But my body wasn't done yet. It bucked against Ferg, pushing my wet slit across his hard cock. He growled softly, and pushed back against me, this time entering me just a bit. I could tell he was trying very hard to go slow, but I didn't want him to now. I needed to have him inside me. All of him. “Now.” I begged.

“Shhhh luv.” He started to say, but I interrupted him.

“Now Fergal, Now!” I begged.

It was hearing his name that did it. I had pronounced it the way he did, with the Irish accent. He couldn't resist me any longer. He slammed his dick into me, bottoming out. We began to move together, faster and faster. I could feel him fill every inch of me. I could feel his dick pulse with pleasure. He looked down at me lustfully. His eyes boring through my soul. I came violently. “There ya go, love.” He said, and he slowed his pace again.

“Fergal, I want you to cum too.” I saw a strained look cross his face.

“I will baby girl. I will.” He whispered back to me. With that, he sat upright and placed his thumb on my clit. Slowly, gently stroking it in time with his thrusts. “Jus' enjoy right now.”

I tried to answer him, but all that came out was a moan. I exploded around his cock. The whole world turned brilliant white, my ears began ringing, I was in heaven. I don't know how long I stayed there, but as I started to come back to earth, I saw a satisfied look on his face. “T'ere you go, Luv”. This man. This man that I had admired from afar for so many years. This beautiful, brilliant, kind, loving man was making sure that I was completely satisfied before he even thought about cumming. “How's my kitten?” he asked.

I couldn't talk. I wasn't even going to try, so I let out a long, soft, contented sigh.

He chuckled a tiny bit and then fucked me as hard and as fast as he could. His massive cock filling me over and over. Slamming into the back of my pussy. Over and over and over until I could feel his whole body tensing up. “Yes, baby.” I purred and he exploded.

He collapsed beside me; both of us out of breath. Both of us sated. I watched his chest rise and fall as he caught his breath. Then I watched his abs....... those amazing abs....... the ones I'd enjoyed seeing for years........ They were.... I couldn't resist.... I moved my had to his abs and enjoyed the feeling of the rock hard muscles rising and falling with every breath he took.

He finally started stirring. “Baby girl,” He whispered. “That was.....”

“Mmmm” I replied.

“Guess we better start getting ready for tonight.” He got out of bed and offered me his hand. “Let's go clean up.” He led the way to the shower and kissed me as the water heated up. He stepped in with me and smiled an evil smirk at me. “I do love water.” he said, and I knew this was going to be the best shower of my life.

#finn balor fergal devitt finn wwe smut firstdate fanfic fan fiction fan fic fanfiction

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purplesurveys · 5 years

Text

512

Did you know nine people died on the set of The Exorcist?: Yep. I like reading movie facts and I’ve stumbled upon The Exorcist trivia several times. Couple more facts for ya: The dude who played one of the hospital staff early in the movie turned out to be a convicted murderer, so there’s that. OH and in the scene where Regan vomits out the bile-like substance, it legitimately hit the actor playing the exorcist in the face when it wasn’t supposed to do that, so the reaction you see in the movie is all real. I’m cold, how about you?: It’s pretty cold. We like bringing the aircon’s temp all the way down when we stay in at hotels. Do you wish you could be swimming in a pool of red jello?: Nooooooo. I never liked jello, whether I’m eating it or swimming in it or touching it or whatever. Do you like cupcakes?: I LOVE CUPCAKES. My mom used to buy a box of cupcakes for me every other week. I don’t think I’d ever get tired of them. How about going to the movies?: The experience is always cool but I only do this for movies I’m REALLY excited for, like Toy Story 4, or in the past, the newest Twilight Saga movie. If it’s a movie I’m just feeling *a little* excited about, I can skip it.

What’s the last movie you went to see, and who was it with?: I watched Hello, Love, Goodbye with my sister. Amazing piece of mainstream Filipino cinema, which is a rarity nowadays. I’m really glad I went out to see it. Should you be doing something else right now?: Yes, but don’t remind me because I really don’t wanna. Do you like Seth Rogan?: Pretty funny dude. I haven’t seen a lot of his stuff though so I don’t have much else to say. If your house was on fire what are three things you would save?: My dog, my laptop, and the small teddy bear figurine that Gabie’s youngest sister had given to me as a Christmas gift many years ago. Do you love moshing? If not what’s wrong with you?: I haven’t tried this. I was front-row at my Paramore show but the crowd wasn’t too crazy + their music had changed at that point and it wasn’t very mosh-y anymore. Ever broken a bone?: Never and I’m too scared to find out how it feels. If so, how?:

Dinosaurs are cute right?: I dunno if cute is the appropriate word for them. Do you have a hot tub?: No, I don’t. Are you home by yourself?: I’m at a hotel, many miles away from our house. I’m currently sharing my room with my sister and brother. Ok, you have friends right? Sure. Great bunch.

Best friend number one: I always go with my two best friends so I’ll name different people this time around: Kate.

How long have you known them?: Roughly two years. We met when we were both applying for our org.

Do you know just about everyone in their family?: I vaguely know their parents only because I know I’m the only one they trust to drive Kate to places haha. I know his brother because she always has stories about him, but I’ve never met him. Does this person know more about you than any other person?: Nah but I bet she knows a bunch of things about me nonetheless cos I know she likes to stalk everyone’s social media accounts hahahahaha Best friend number dos: Laurice. Is this person a spiffy person?: Yeah, very much. She’s from a certain private school in Ayala Alabang so that’s pretty self-explanatory, lol. What’s the best time you have had with this person?: Any time I get to have dinner with her is a lot of fun. On A More Serious Note

Aren’t bunnies cute?: Sure. What is your most important possession?: My dog. Have you ever almost died? I almost violently crashed my car like two years ago. I had to step on the brakes with all my life and just barely missed the spot where I was supposed to crash by like a centimeter. I had never been in bigger shock before and spent the next half hour crying. Geez you crazy person, how did you do that?: :) Ever been on a plane?: Yes. How about a train?: Yes, once. And at a dead hour, too, so I didn’t actually get to experience what it’s commonly like. Thoughts on Chicago?: I’m gonna assume you meant the city. Chicago is the lone US spot on my travel bucket list, thanks to CM Punk hyping it up so fucking much. That city just feels so alive and I really want to go there at least once in my life. How about snow?: Haven’t experienced it but would love to. Pretty sure I’ll be the type of person who would appreciate snow no matter the time of the year or whether it’s soggy or not. Aren’t flying mattresses dangerous?: Is this slang for something lmao or are you referring to literal flying mattresses? I’m so lost on this question. What do you like best about yourself?: I’m the person that listens to the friend who gets drowned out in group conversations. Do you think you will go to heaven one day?: No. I don’t believe in heaven. Or are you more likely to go in the opposite direction?: I don’t believe in that either.

Are you more likely to take risks, or sit back and watch life pass you by?: I’ve done my fair share of both. It’s a good balance; I don’t always like to gamble so I’m alright with life passing me by sometimes. Any diagnosed health problems?: Scoliosis. There’s a mental health issue somewhere in there but I’m undiagnosed. Are you on any medication?: Nope. That Last Section Wasn’t Really All That Serious, Was It? Nah. You lost me when you asked about bunnies.

What are you looking forward to?: There isn’t a lot to look forward to at the moment. The next time I’ll be seeing Gab is always something, though :)

Any summer plans?: Hopefully I get to travel for a bit, and then start on a job. Going to a different state for any reason this summer?: No, I concentrated on my internship during the summer. After that I just stayed home all month because that’s what I wanted and needed. It’s snowing… in April. Any comments?: In the Philippines? That means climate change is going balls to the walls crazy and the Earth is probably going to die. The Wii Fit says I lost .5 pounds today. Do you have a Wii Fit?: Nah, I never had that. Are you scared of motorcycles?: Yes hahaha, I don’t think I could ever properly balance myself on one. What about cars?: Being ran over by them, sure. But I’m not scared of driving. Any reason?: ^

Do you wear glasses?: Yes. I have to or else I won’t see anything. I bet they aren’t purple glasses.: Wrong. They’re brown/maroon-ish. What is your favorite kind of fruit?: None of them.

#survey #surveys

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spamalot342 · 5 years

Text

100 Answers That Nobody Asked For

1. Coffee or tea?

Coffee

2. Black and white or color?

Color

3. Drawings or paintings?

Paintings

4. Dresses or skirts?

Dresses

5. Books or movies?

Both

6. Pepsi or Coke?

Coke

7. Chinese or Italian?

Chinese

8. Early bird or night owl?

Night owl

9. Chocolate or vanilla?

Vinilla

10. Introvert or extrovert?

Introvert

11. Hugs or kisses?

Hugs

12. Hunting or fishing?

Neither I don’t kill

13. Winter or summer?

Winter

14. Spring or fall?

Fall

15. Rural or urban?

Unrban

16. PC or Mac?

Mac

17. Tan or pale?

Pale

18. Cake or pie?

Pie

19. Ice cream or yogurt?

Ice cream

20. Ketchup or mustard?

Ketchup

21. Sweet pickles or dill pickles?

Dill pickles

22. Comedy or mystery?

Comedy

23. Boots or sandals?

Boots

24. Silver or gold?

Gold

25. Pop or Rock?

Both

26. Dancing or singing?

Singing

27. Checkers or chess?

Checkers

28. Board games or video games?

Neither

29. Wine or beer?

Neither

30. Freckles or dimples?

Freckles

31. Honey mustard or BBQ sauce?

Honey mustard

32. Body weight exercises or lifting weights?

I’m lazy

33. Baseball or basketball?

Baseball

34. Crossword puzzles or sudokus?

Sudokus

35. Facial hair or clean shaven?

Clean shaven

36. Crushed ice or cubed ice?

Cubed

37. Skiing or snowboarding?

I’ve never tried either one

38. Smile or game face?

Smile

39. Bracelet or necklace?

Necklace

40. Fruit or vegetables?

Fruit

41. Sausage or bacon?

Sausage

42. Scrambled or fried?

Fried

43. Dark chocolate or white chocolate?

Dark chocolate

44. Tattoos or piercings?

Tattoos

45. Antique or brand new?

Antique

46. Dress up or dress down?

Whatever I feel like

47. Cowboys or aliens?

Cowboys in space

48. Cats or dogs?

Cats

49. Pancakes or waffles?

Waffles

50. Bond or Bourne?

Bond

51. Sci-Fi or fantasy?

Fantasy

52. Numbers or letters?

Letters

53. Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings?

HARRY POTTER

54. Fair or theme park?

Theme Park

55. Money or fame?

Fame

56. Washing dishes or doing laundry?

Laundry

57. Snakes or sharks?

I could live without both

58. Orange juice or apple juice?

Apple juice

59. Sunrise or sunset?

Sunset

60. Slacker or over-achiever?

Over achiever

61. Pen or pencil?

Pencil

62. Peanut butter or jelly?

Peanut Butter

63. Grammys or Oscars?

I love all the awards shows equally (the Tonys will always reign supreme)

64. Detailed or abstract?

Abstract

65. Multiple choice questions or essay questions?

Multiple choice

66. Adventurous or cautious?

Adventurous

67. Saver or spender?

I save them splurge

68. Glasses or contacts?

Glasses

69. Laptop or desktop?

Laptop

70. Classic or modern?

Reinventing the classics

71. Personal chef or personal fitness trainer?

Personal fitnes trainer

72. Internet or cell phone?

Internet

73. Call or text?

Text

74. Curly hair or straight hair?

Waves

75. Shower in the morning or shower in the evening?

Showering twice a day

76. Spicy or mild?

Mild

77. Marvel or DC?

Marvel

78. Paying a mortgage or paying rent?

Paying rent

79. Sky dive or bungee jump?

Sky dive

80. Oreos or Chips Ahoy?

Oreos

81. Jello or pudding?

Pudding

82. Truth or dare?

Truth

83. Roller coaster or Ferris wheel?

Roller coaster

84. Leather or denim?

Denim

85. Stripes or solids?

Solids

86. Bagels or muffins?

Bagels

87. Whole wheat or white?

White

88. Beads or pearls?

Pearls

89. Hardwood or carpet?

Hardwood

90. Bright colors or neutral tones?

Neutral tones

91. Be older than you are or younger than you are?

Older

92. Raisins or nuts?

Nuts

93. Picnic or nice restaurant?

Nice restaurant

94. Black leather or brown leather?

Brown leather

95. Long hair or short hair?

Short hair

96. “Ready, aim, fire” or “Ready, fire, aim”?

Ready fire aim

97. Fiction or non-fiction?

Fiction

98. Smoking or non-smoking?

Smoking

99. Think before you talk or talk before you think?

Talk before you think

100. Asking questions or answering questions?

Answering questions

#100 questions #questions #answered #me

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pens-swords-stuff · 5 years

Note

What's your favorite fruit? I ask because mine is oranges, because they're sweet and delicious and awesome, but I also hate them because they are SO HARD to peel. It always gets underneath my fingernails and I feel like using a knife is cheating so I suffer through and it always comes off in a million pieces and then when you start to get that glide, when a big chunk of the peel comes off, it SPRAYS YOU IN THE FACE like the little monster it is (this is part question, part rant)

I really like apples! Honeycrisp in particular is my favorite.

I do really enjoy citrus flavors, so I also love oranges! My favorite way to eat oranges is orange slices, where the peel is mostly detached from the orange so it’s easier to eat, but not completely separated, if that makes sense? (Also can we talk about those orange slice jellos with the jello IN the peel? amazing, blows my mind every time).

You’re a trooper for peeling oranges though, that sounds super rough. I honestly don’t think I’ve ever tried peeling one by hand. My family peels grapefruit by hand, but never oranges for whatever reason. I can totally understand what you’re going through though, oranges are dangerous like that.

The most I peel are tangerines, and even then I wasn’t particularly good at it until recently. Now I can peel off the skin intact without tearing it apart in tiny chunks so that’s a victory for me. The first time I did that, I called my mom down to look.

Thanks for sharing your rant~

It’s Sleepover Sunday! Ask me anything!

#asks #sleepover sunday #latechickadee #undine answers stuff

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vesperlionheart · 6 years

Text

UnDeR- the-MirRroR

An old monster!Saku prompt I found! Just in time for MerMay, too. Thank @thefreckledone and her Mermay prompts

The metal of the railings was cool against her forehead as Sakura leaned her face down and starred at the waters passing by underneath her feet. She sat on the edge of the yacht with her feet free to dangle as the rest of the people her own age laughed and moved about the deck. It was so close to twilight in the summer and the air was heavy with more than just expectation. The humidity had girls stripping down to the strings of their bikini’s and laughing at the boys until they followed suit and made it a swim party where no one touched the water.

Hinata’s family owned the lake, just like the yacht and half the town, but the superstitions and folk stories of the lake belonged to no man. No one would go swimming in the lake until they passed over the sunken town from the early 1900’s that was evacuated and flooded to make a dam later on in the decade. It had been a case of the government coming in and playing the ‘imminent domain’ card so they could use the lands for their own hush hush work. Or at leas they could until funds dried up in the mid 90’s.

The story was ridiculously famous among the youth with good reason. Local gossip flared and died in popularity, but the stories of the ghosts of the town of Mizu and the things ‘let’ into the waters would always be a hot button in a town of folks who had lived and died around the lake. Households spanning more than three generations would swear up and down that there was something wrong with the lake; weather that meant ghosts or lake monsters, almost everyone believed it was safer to avoid.

One of the girls squealed when a boy came up behind her and faked a move that made it look like he was going to throw her over. The rest of her friends slapped him away with giggles and friendly jokes. No one seemed too honestly freaked about going over, but Sakura knew they would all wait until they passed over the old dam walls before swimming. During the Monsoon season it was easy to pass over the wall, but when the water level went down, the walls seemed to rise up. Last year there had been a drought so bad the steeple’s point on the old church was visible, like a saber standing out of the water pointing to the sky.

“Where’s your sexy bikini?” a chuckling voice asked from over her shoulder. Sakura looked back to see Kiba holding out a bottle of sunscreen. He smiled wide when their eyes met and shook the bottle. “Need me to rub you down?”

Sakura made an effort to show how she rolled her eyes at his offer. “I have a spray, thank you, and I already applied before we left.” She turned around, facing the waters once more and leaking her back turned towards him. “But thanks for the offer. See if Ino needs help.”

“You’re not hanging out with us anymore,” Kiba pouted, crouching down alongside her.

Sakura just kept staring out across the lake, trying to see the outlines of the places they never bothered to tear down before the flood. When Kiba fidgeted she sighed. “Sorry, I’ve only been back a month. You’ve known each other since diapers. What’s seven childhood years in the face of that?”

When it looked like Kiba was going to open his mouth and say something in kindness that wasn’t necessarily true, she resolved to cut him off with another fake laugh. “Oh don’t make a face. I’m just tired. Finals, you know?”

Kiba grinned and it was an easy sort of grin. “Yeah, but who cares about those. I think you’re the only one.”

“Junior year is just as important as senior year. Collages look at those grades too.”

Kiba laughed again and said something about, ‘ah, that’s why we all love you,’ before standing up again with his sunscreen still in his hands. “You’re so driven. Don’t you think you need to relax and live life a little bit more. School is done, we don’t have to be back in classes for another two months. Enjoy!”

“I will,” she lied with an easy smile. “I just want to watch the water a little more. I’ve not seen it like this in years.”

Kiba frowned, good mood deflating a bit. “Ah, it’s in poor tastes that Neji is making us cross this section of the lake just because he doesn’t want to look like the rest of his superstitious family. I don’t like it, but it’s the safest place to shoot off fireworks.”

Sakura’s brows furrowed in confusion. “But it’s pretty to look at, like you can still see the roads and stuff,” Sakura hummed, eyes trained on the water.

There were plenty of long shadows, but not enough to make it hard to see. Every so often she’d spot a sparkling tail fin or school of fish gliding through what was left of the roofless houses and buildings. It was a destruction of sorts, but to Sakura it was still beautiful.

“Yeah, well take your good long look, we’re nearly out of it now, and none too soon. I plan on putting these babies to good use,” Kiba joked, turning his back to the waters and flexing his arms so every line of his stood out in tanned detail. He grinned and Sakura rolled her eyes at his bravado.

He might have stayed longer, but one of the girls called out to him with an encouraging woo hoo, and the young boy was off like a puppy, eager to please. Sakura recognized most of the kids along the railing, they had all been friends back in grade school, but when she had turned seven her parents had packed up and traded in the small old town for the big city. Sakura had been able to adapt easily enough, but coming back to the old town of Konohagakure was a different story. It didn’t help that she was coming back with just her mother. Dad had died a year ago leaving the women of the family to move in wither her maternal grandfather. No one else would take in such a broken woman.

A shrill cheer broke Sakura off from her thoughts and she looked up to see the dam walls. Neji eased their speed as they passed over the lowest point of the wall, the broken bit. The waters were high enough that no one had to be worried about scraping the bottom against cement. Still, it was neat to watch.

As soon as they were over, one of the girls ran to the tip and threw both her legs over. Someone yelled at her, but she hung by her friends until Neji cut the engine and let their vessel glide through the calmer waters. Sakura blinked at the sight, not at all surprised to see it was Inoi who drew the most eyes.

“Damn impatient woman,” the Nara boy grumbled, taking his time to undo the buttons to his loose cotton top. From beside him Choji chuckled in understanding.

Sakura tried to remember the two boys as anything other than Ino’s close family friends, but it was hard. Shikamaru Nara had little personality outside of his extreme laziness, or if there was a personality there, Sakura couldn’t see it yet. Choji, on the other hand, was shy and kind around his friends. With Sakura he was still gruff, but not as gruff as he was with those who he didn’t know anything about at all.

The girl on the end dropped off with a squeal and a splash. Seconds later a few of her friends joined in, screaming and hollering all the way down. The loudest was a boy named Rock Lee who Sakura tried her best to avoid once she recognized how lively and upfront he could be. He didn’t think anything about it when he hugged people or shook their hands or touched their shoulders because he was a boy built out of innocence. He was kind and polite and passionate about things like working out and exercise, but he was still a boy and she still didn’t like it when people touched her anymore.

About half the group was in the water now, with the other half pulling out food and drinks to serve now that they had stopped. Hinata tried her best to make everything nice looking, and Sakura could see the small girl was fretting about every little detail when it was obvious no one was going to care by this point. For an heiress, she wasn’t very confident in anything.

“Here,” Sakura said, taking a stack of napkins. She laid them out and then showed Hinata how she used her fist to flare them out in a decorative way before dropping a polished stone weight on the top to keep them from flying. “Anything else I can help you with?”

“Our cousin needs a girlfriend, you interested?” Hanabi asked, poking out from behind her elder sister. The younger girl’s smile was impish and wide.

Hinata blustered and Sakura mentally exhaled before faking another laugh. “I’ll get the plastic forks then. Let me know if the table needs any more help.”

Sakura took her time in the cabin’s kitchen pulling out all the things that had been specifically packed for the trip. Plastic forks, decorations, bowls, dry snacks, and in the very back was a stash of Jack Daniels Tennessee Whiskey. She put everything but the booze out, hoping it had been a mistake.

It took a few trips, but when she came back out from throwing the empty chip bags away she nearly ran into a solid wall of skin and jerked sharply backwards to avoid running into Naruto. He saw who she was at once and the way his eyes lit up was easy to catch.

“Sakura, I should have known you would be the smart one who put out the food!”

“He-hello Naruto,” Sakura said after a swallow. He was almost as touchy feely as Lee and just as just as loud, if not more so. Also, before she had moved away, Naruto had been her best friend along with Sasuke Uchiha-the boy no one talked about. With few others being able to stand the hyper active blond, the pair had been joined at the hit until her last day. It didn’t help that Naruto still had a little crush on her.

“Did you see me jump? I got a bigger wave than Rock Lee. Ha, you should have seen his face. He’s exhausted himself trying to keep up with this.” Naruto flexed comically.

“Somehow I doubt that is even possible,” a new voice interrupted. Naruto scowled when Sakura looked back over her shoulder to see Neji Hyuga carrying out a bowl of fruit jello. As stoic as he was, Neji had been close to Rock Lee and defended the overactive boy whenever he was being put down by others. Naturally, Naruto thought Neji was an ass.

Neji looked cooly past Naruto’s shoulder and then glanced sideways at Sakura before addressing Naruto again. “Where is he, anyway?”

Naruto shrugged, grin growing. “He was looking for Sakura, so I told him she’s somewhere in the water.”

“But I never went swimming,” Sakura said, watching as Naruto’s grin grew wider. Neji scowled.

“Yeah, I know that, but I don’t think he did.”

“You’re dishonest in the most frustrating ways,” Neji bit out before moving pass to put his food on the table and head towards the railing.

Naruto rolled his eyes before watching him go. Once he was almost out of sight, Naruto grabbed Sakura’s elbow, making her jerk. He didn’t notice, but took the chance to drag her away, back into the kitchen.

“What are you doing?” Sakura hissed.

“Neji’s family always has some booze stored away somewhere. We should find it.”

“Why?”

Naruto laughed. “To make sure it’s still good.”

“You’re going to get into trouble one day,” Sakura sighed, reaching up and running a hand through his wet hair, making it stick up. He stilled, looking up at her from where he crouched with eyes as blue as the lake around them. It was enough to make her remember how he had been a child with her, and forget how they were past all that now. She pulled her hand away and looked back at the cabin they were inside, ignoring the way he still looked at her.

“Yeah, but you’ll be able to save me from it, right? You’re not going away again.” He didn’t say it like it was a question, he said it like a wish.

“Where would I go like this?” Sakura asked around a yawn. Outside it was getting dim. Soon there would be fireworks.

“I’m tired of my favorite people leaving me, is all.”

Sakura looked over at Naruto again and understood what he didn’t say. No one talked about Sasuke, and she hadn’t asked, but she knew his leaving wasn’t a clean sort of leaving. Sasuke left something bitter in the memory of all his friends and now was her chance to find out what. Naruto would tell her, he probably wanted to.

Sakura almost opened her mouth to ask him for it, when she remembered how little she liked people knowing about her and where she’s been.

“How about we skip the Jack. I’ll go swimming with you instead.”

Naruto’s grin was bright enough to make something in her heart hurt. The pair approached the railing on one side of the ship just as a couple of swimmers were climbing up the opposite side. Naruto saw Rock Lee and cursed, making a dive for the water’s surface. He had reached for her, to drag her along with him, but Sakura weaved out of reach and dove in on her own, making her hands a cutting point that divided the waters in front of her.

The lake was crystal and cool all around her, and Sakura found her body moving all on its own as lack swim memories came back to her. She cut through the water and glided with ease, a little too in love with the feel.

When she looked back Naruto and Lee were water wrestling. The waves around them were foaming and loud, even with the muffled acoustics. Kiba was close, swimming closer to the boys with Neji trailing in his waves.

Sakura peaked for air and then dove back down, turning towards the end of the dam they had passed over earlier. No one swam past it, but Sakura had been a bit too fascinated with what she saw to follow their example. She had to peak for air once more before swimming over the submerged dam that separated one side of the lake from the other.

Sakura took a lungful of air from the surface and then bent into the waters again, pumping her legs to force her body down to the deep parts of the lake that had once been streets between houses. She could still see the stone outlines of where foundations were set from some of the most damaged buildings. Following the road she swam bast structures that were more intact than others. Some still even had doors hanging on crusted over hinges.

She swam up for air once more but then came back down, swimming past the steeple of an old church. She circled the bell tower, not surprised to find it void of the bell it had been suited for.

Sakura swam close enough to touch the church, feeling the wood as old as history beneath her fingers. With a kick she swam through an open window and out a hole in the side of the church. She laced through again, delighting in the sensation before having to swim up for more air.

She moved to kick up just as something caught on her ankle. She choked on a mouthful of lake water as she cried out in surprise. Water bubbled around her as her moves turned frantic. She caught sight of a fin and something silver and scaled. Her heart burned in fear, knowing she was the intruder in something else’s habitat.

Sakura kicked frantically and felt whatever was around her ankle slacken. It was enough for her to propel herself through another window and kick up off the sill up, up, up, up towards the glassy surface of the lake. She reached and the water broke as she came up, lungs gasping for air.

She didn’t stop. As soon as she could, she kicked off and swam with all the speed fear fed her, until she was over the dam’s wall and back in sight of the yacht.

The boys weren’t fighting anymore, but Naruto had Kiba on his shoulders while Rock Lee lifted Neji up to wrestle Kiba into the water. Ino and several others cheered from the railing, but no one seemed to have missed her.

All the better for her to not suffer the embarrassment of someone’s chastising.

Sakura turned around in the water and glanced back as far as she could see, into the ruins of the sunken town. It had been fun to explore and exciting to see. Her fear was still fresh enough to taste, but something else warmed her heart.

Maybe she had imagined it. She probably just got caught on some weed and saw a fish in her panic. She had over reacted after hearing the other kids talk about superstitions and curses.

‘The people who refused to leave were drowned when the dam was put in. Dozens died and were turned into watery ghosts who drown anyone who dares invade their home.’

“Silly,” Sakura said outloud to herself.

She turned and headed back to the party, pumping strong arms without fear or knowing what watched her leave. She didn’t look back, and she didn’t see the silvery body or wide, wounded eyes that watched her go.

#Sakura Haruno #MonsterSaku #KiriSaku #MizuSaku #old story #I found it in my recovered files #forgot about this #who do you think it was at the end?#your guess is as good as mine #it could be anyone #Do you think I was planning on writing another MizuSaku stories?#Me?#like I would do something like that #do I want to edit any of these? lol #my writing #story #fanfiction #prompt

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branlovestowrite · 6 years

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The Man of Misthaven: Part 2 of 4

Thank you all so much for the incredible reception you gave Part 1 of this story! I am blown away by the response. I hope you continue to enjoy the story. This next installment is a long one, but lots of CS interaction, so I don’t think you’ll mind too much. ^_~

Continuous thanks to @gingerchangeling for being my beta reader, @hollyethecurious for this amazing image set, and @kmomof4 for running @cssns.

The Man of Misthaven

Summary: Storybrooke Maine is preparing for their annual fourth of July parade when they stumble upon a 300 year old body buried in Misthaven Bog, just beyond the town line. This is the first bog body discovered in the Northern US, and could put the town on the map… if only it hadn’t gone missing. Deputy Emma Swan should be focusing on the search, but she’s been a little distracted by the dark haired, blue-eyed man with amnesia she rescued the day before. Just who is this man she feels such a strong attraction to, and does he have any connection to the missing body?

Rating: T

Words: ~7,700 (this is a long installment!)

Need to catch up? Part 1 can be found here. Also on AO3 and fanfiction.net.

Part 2 Storybrooke, Saturday June 30, 2018

For the third time in the last 24 hours, Emma parked in front of the hospital. This time, at least, she wasn’t going to the morgue. She made sure she had her badge before exiting the car and walked around to help John Doe out. Thankfully, the hospital was not very busy, and they were led to a private examination room. After a moment, a nurse walked in with a hospital gown and a robe.

“I’ll just put these here,” she said as she settled them at the foot of the bed.

John Doe sat on the bed and looked at the items, unsure of what to do. He glanced toward Emma.

“Don’t you want to get dressed?” she asked.

“Oh… aye. I’ll just…” He fingered the garments for a moment as he continued to stare at her. The tips of his ears began to turn red.

“Oh! Right,” Emma said. “I’ll just step out.”

He stood at the same time she did, bringing their bodies closer than she liked in such a small space. “Will you be back?” he asked, as his right arm snaked out from under the blanket to rub at the scruff covering his jaw.

“If you’d like me to.” She found his nervousness charming, and she gave him a genuine smile. “I can come back and stay with you until the doctor gets you settled.”

“I would like that, thank you.” He returned her smile with a brilliant grin of his own.

She got caught up in his eyes for a moment, drowning in their deep blue depths, before she heard Dr. Whale tap on the door. Clearing her throat, she stepped aside. “Doctor,” she said, her tone a bit too high for her liking.

“Deputy Swan,” he returned, his gaze teetering on the edge of lecherous. Dr. Whale was a notorious flirt, but was also one of the best doctors in the state. He’d repeatedly turned down opportunities to move to bigger hospitals in bigger towns, saying he preferred the pace of small town life. He’d never tried to make a move on Emma, but she suspected that was mostly due to his brief, but disastrous, relationship with Mary Margaret. Emma knew that the notorious womanizer was actually a secretly sappy, over-the-top romantic. No doubt he was aware that she possessed this knowledge and thus had decided to keep his distance.

Doctor Whale shifted his gaze to John Doe. He held out his hand. “Dr. Victor Whale.” The other man took it tentatively, and Whale gave him a firm shake before releasing. “So. What seems to be the issue?”

“Well,” John Doe began, “I’m not quite sure myself. I don’t remember much before this lass found me.”

Whale raised his brow. “Where did you find him?” he asked Emma.

“Walking along the forest road, maybe three miles from here.”

“And you don’t remember anything before then?” the doctor asked, turning back to the man.

“I remember waking up, but I can’t recall where I was. I had trouble seeing. The room was dark and very cold. I remember feeling confined and simply wanting to breathe fresh air. It was still dark when I got outside, but I just started walking, thinking I could find something familiar.”

“Do you know if you walked in a straight path?”

He gave an uneasy smile. “I don’t think I did. I really felt quite out of sorts.” He shook his head and his smile broadened. “I’m not making any sense, am I?”

Whale gave him a reassuring look. “Disorientation is common with cases of amnesia.” He opened the chart and began writing. “I’m going to order a few tests, just to check you out for any internal trauma. We’ll want to keep you here for observation and perhaps have Dr. Hopper come chat with you and see if he can’t help jog your memory.”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow you,” John Doe replied, his ears turning red again.

“Just know that we’ll take care you, sir. I’ll be back in a few hours to see how you are doing.”

“Thank you, doctor.”

Whale turned to Emma. “Deputy Swan, will you be here a while?”

“I was planning to stay until the patient was settled.”

“Please come find me before you leave. I’d like to get a few more details from you. But it’s not urgent.”

He stepped away from the room. Emma and John Doe stared at each other once more, his gaze more unsure than earlier. Emma reached out and placed a firm hand on his arm, squeezing his bicep through the blanket. “It’s gonna be okay. Whale is one of the best doctors in the state.”

He gave a dry chuckle. “I am glad to hear you recommend him so highly.”

She let her gaze drop to the clothes still on the bed. Looking up at him, she said “why don’t you get dressed? I will see if I can go find us some food. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

“Sustenance does sound good, thank you.”

She found herself wanting to laugh at his old fashioned language, but she bit her lip. “I’ll be back,” she said as she stepped out of the room and headed to the vending machines.

Emma spent most of her free Saturday at the hospital with John Doe. She shouldn't have stayed so long, but she couldn’t bear to leave him. He was so nervous, though he rarely spoke to that effect. When he was taken for a CT scan, he would only agree to go if Emma could come with him. She waited just outside the room while the scan was performed, and walked alongside the gurney, holding his hand, all the way back to his room.

After the tests were performed, the hospital gave him a proper meal. He stared in wonder at the tray, taking particular interest in the small bowl of jello cubes. He picked it up and shook it lightly, closely observing how the substance moved. “What do they call this?”

She smiled at his childlike wonder. “Jello. You’ve never seen jello before?”

“Can’t say that I have.” He smiled at her, then picked up a gelatinous cube and popped it in his mouth. He swallowed it down with an exaggerated motion. “It’s very sweet. Reminds me of jam, only without the fruit.”

“That’s basically what it is,” Emma replied with a laugh.

Despite his unfamiliarity with the contents, he ate everything on the tray and drank all the water in the small pitcher he’d been provided.

“Wow,” Emma said, “I’m impressed. Guess you were hungry.”

“I do feel like it’s been a very long time since I ate.”

When the room fell quiet, Emma turned on the TV. This sparked a new round of questioning. It seemed he had never encountered television in his life. “You must be from an Amish community, or something like that,” Emma mused.

He grinned at her. “I don’t know what that is, but sure.”

She giggled at his words. After he ate lunch, the day seemed to be taking its toll on him. His eyes drooped and he was struggling to hold his head up. Emma stood and looked at the clock, not believing it was almost four in the afternoon. “I think I should go. You look like you could use a nap.”

“Apologies, love. I do seem to be rather fatigued.”

“I’ve got to work tomorrow, but I’ll come by and check on you.” She paused, then stepped to the nightstand and picked up the pad of paper and pen left there. She quickly wrote her number and handed it to him. “That’s my cell number. Give me a call if you need anything. I’m here for you.”

He gave her a grateful look. “Thank you. You really have been my savior today.”

She returned his look with a smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Irish Sea, July 19, 1751

Alice stood against the gunwhale and relished the feeling of the wind whipping at her face. She’d never been on a ship before, though Papa had taken her to the sea enough times, as well as sharing with her tales of his own time as a sailor. Her Papa had a hard life, spending the majority of his childhood as an indentured servant before buying back his freedom by enlisting in the Navy with his brother. After rising through the ranks in his early adulthood, his promising career was cut short after only 6 years, when Uncle Liam contracted and died from typhoid fever.

Papa, who had only just earned the rank of lieutenant, deserted from the service and ran into hiding, drowning his sorrow in rum. Liam was his only family, and Papa said without his brother he felt adrift. He liked to tell Alce that had it not been for her sudden appearance, he might be dead. He shamefully admits that he does not remember much of her mother, but when a baby was left on his doorstep, with a note explaining that she was his daughter, he didn’t hesitate. He sobered up and cared for the child.

As Alice grew, there was no mistaking her for anyone else’s child. She had his eyes, and his ears. She had his smile and his sense of humor. Alice loved her papa, and he spoiled her as much as he could on their meager earnings. He worked various odd jobs, eventually learning the trade of blacksmith. Alice remembered her younger years fondly, as a time when she and her Papa were poor, but happy.

There wasn’t a time in Alice’s life that she didn’t remember the feeling of magic flowing through her body. It was a pleasant hum that she assumed everyone else felt in the same measure. There were incidents from before, things that may have been written off as mere coincidence, but nothing as blatant as the incident that followed shortly after her seventh birthday.

Alice and Papa were making marmalade, a favorite treat of hers. Consumption of citrus was always important to Papa after his time at sea, and he never denied his girl her requests to make more. They’d even sold jars of it during especially lean times, though Papa had learned that the money they made selling it was far less than the amount saved if there was more marmalade on hand to satisfy his starfish’s appetite.

Alice was thinking about how they never had enough marmalade for her liking while she stirred the pot. Without warning, the sticky substance in the pot doubled in volume immediately. Alice screeched in surprise, calling Papa to her side. He could not believe his eyes as the contents of the pot continued to rise, threatening to boil over. Papa hurriedly removed the pot from the stove and set it aside.

“I think we have enough marmalade to last a long while now, eh Starfish?”

Alice recalled smiling as she looked at the pot, still rising even as Papa hurriedly spooned the contents into jars. “I guess we do,” she replied with a chuckle, and immediately the jam stopped its churning and settled.

They had enough marmalade to fill all their jars as well as another dozen they acquired from neighbors. The larder was beautifully full, and Alice ate marmalade sandwiches every day for months. When they got down to the last two jars, the supply continued. No matter how often they removed the next to last jar, there were always two jars waiting the following day. Alice was delighted at this, and did not notice her Papa’s unease.

She bragged to her few playmates in the village. Alice never had many close friends, always being seen as a bit strange by her cohort. However, when she bragged of having an endless supply of marmalade, the village began chattering about the blacksmith and his strange daughter. Word got around, and one night, about a year after the marmalade incident, there was an ominous knocking at the door to their cottage.

Papa opened the door to reveal a short, well-dressed man with dark grey hair that fell loosely to his shoulders. His blue frock coat adorned with gold buttons made him look out of place in their sleepy little village. He seemed like he should be attending a function at the grand estate 15 miles away.

“Can I help you… sir?” Papa added the title as an afterthought, not sure if he was addressing nobility.

“Are you the blacksmith?” the man asked as he peered curiously at Papa.

“I am. How can I help you?”

“Might I come in?” the man feigned an air of helplessness, but Alice immediately saw through this and eyed him warily. She tried in vain to telepathically communicate her sense of danger to Papa, but he let the man in anyway.

Once the door was shut behind him, the man took in their small, cozy cottage. He spun around slowly to take in his surroundings. When he turned back, his gaze landed on Alice.

“It’s a wonder it took me so long…” he said, trailing off. He stepped closer and took her chin in his hand. “You look just like your mother, child.”

He released his grip and Papa hastily joined them, placing his hands protectively on Alice’s shoulders. “I didn’t get your name, Mr…?”

“Gold. Roderick Gold.”

“And what is your interest in my daughter, Mr. Gold?”

“I knew the child’s mother. I have been trying to locate this girl for a very long time.”

Papa gently coaxed Alice out of her chair to stand, before pulling her firmly into his side. “I ask again, sir,” Papa began, “what is your interest in my daughter?”

“Why, only to change her life decidedly for the better.”

“What?” Alice asked, unbelieving. She knew manners dictated that she should not speak to this man unless addressed directly, but Alice had never been one for following rules.

“What do you know of your mother, child?”

Alice looked up at Papa with wide eyes. Papa took his cue to answer the man. “I have not seen her mother since she was a very small child. Alice’s mother could not care for her, so I have raised her on my own.”

“So you likely do not know, then, that Alice’s mother, Eloise, was my ward? Eloise disappeared nine years ago, likely after she came to be with child. I learned of the child some time ago, and although I continue to look for Eloise, I feel a responsibility for her child as well. I want to take you, dear, and give you the life you should have. Pretty gowns, the best education, and when you are older, balls and high society.”

Alice’s eyes lit up at the many pleasures being offered to her. “Do you have a library, sir?”

“Indeed I do. With more books than you could read in a lifetime, I’d wager.”

Alice looked up at Papa, not believing her luck. “Can we go with him Papa?”

Papa’s hand lifted to rub the back of his neck. “I imagine Mr. Gold does not have a place for me in this new life of yours, Starfish.”

“What? How can I go without you, Papa?” She turned to face Mr. Gold. “Papa must come with me, Mr. Gold, please!”

“I am sorry, child. Your father is right. I would permit him to visit you, of course, but I have no need for a blacksmith on my estate at present. Should that change, I would gladly make the position open to you, good man.”

“How generous,” Papa responded with a smile that did not quite reach his eyes. “This is a lot to take in. You will give us a few days to consider, won’t you?”

“Indeed,” Mr. Gold replied. “I will be visiting the estate just east of here for a few days. I will return to you in three days time and expect to have your response then. If you decide to do what is in the best interest of your child, you should have her things ready and she will leave with me at that time.”

“Thank you, Mr. Gold. We will see you then,” Papa said, opening the door and making it very clear that it was time for the man to leave. Papa watched out the window as the man alighted in his carriage and traveled in an easterly direction. Only once he was sure the man was gone did he turn to Alice.

“Pack your things, starfish.”

“What? Now? Mr. Gold said I had three more days. I am not ready to part with you, Papa!”

“We are not parting, love. We are leaving this village, tonight. That man cannot find us again.”

“Why Papa?”

“Because he is lying. I don’t remember much of your mother, dear one, but she was not a high born lady, no matter what he says. But I do recall she had certain… abilities. I thought nothing of it at the time, but I have seen these in you. I have no proof, but I believe that man only wants you for the power you possess. And he will have to kill me before he gets it.”

They traveled by foot, stopping in small, unassuming towns. They slept in inns when they could afford it and in abandoned buildings or under the stars when they could not. Papa worked odd jobs to help them get by. Eventually Papa gained a position on a ship under a captain who allowed Alice to accompany him. And now they were traveling to Dublin to start anew. She hoped they would never see Mr. Gold again.

Storybrooke, Sunday July 1, 2018

The next morning, Emma entered the station to see both David and Graham standing in the bullpen. “What’s going on?” she asked, turning to David. “Aren’t you supposed to be off today?”

“Emergency meeting,” Graham replied.

“What’s the emergency?” Emma asked.

“I’ll tell you,” she heard a commanding voice speak from behind her, accompanied by the rhythmic tapping of high heels. The woman, Deputy Mayor Regina Mills, stood in her immaculately tailored skirt suit, her hands on her hips as she glared at them. “Somehow, your department managed to have both a breakthrough discovery and an unparalleled disaster in the same day.” She tossed her shoulder-length brown hair back as she stared at Emma. “Tell me, Deputy Swan, how is it possible to lose a body that has been dead for 300 years?”

Emma looked uncomfortably at the other woman. “Regina, come on, it’s not like we planned to lose him.”

“That’s a bit informal, I think. It’s Deputy Mayor Mills to you! And planned or not, this department needs to fix the mistake.”

“What’s the big deal?” Emma asked. Graham and David were being annoyingly silent. “Forty-eight hours ago we didn’t even know he was there.”

Regina heaved a sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose. “The big deal, Deputy Swan, is that this is the first bog body to be found in the northern US! A discovery like this could bring tourists to Storybrooke. Tourists that will bring revenue. Revenue, which, may I remind you, pays your salary!”

Emma huffed in reply, but couldn’t think of anything else to say. Satisfied that she’d intimidated everyone sufficiently, Regina left the station. Graham ordered Emma to go back to hospital and see if she could find anything that he and David may have missed the day before.

Emma didn’t mind the errand, and hoped she could get a chance to check on John Doe during the day. She hurried down to the morgue to complete her task as quickly as possible. After a brief knock on the door, she stepped inside and found Jeff speaking with a young woman Emma had never seen before.

“Deputy Swan,” he said, turning to her as she entered the room. “I was just getting ready to call the station.”

“Oh?” Emma asked as she eyed the newcomer warily.

Jeff pointed toward the other woman. “Let me introduce Matilda Towers. She’s the forensics expert I mentioned the other day.”

“Please, call me Tilly,” the other woman said, extending her hand for a shake.

Emma peered curiously at the Tilly for a moment. “Emma Swan,” she replied, taking the proffered hand and perusing the young woman. Her blond hair fell around her face in waves, save for a few strands she’d pinned back. She had a British accent, large cobalt-blue eyes, an angular jaw, and ears that were slightly pointed at the tip. Inexplicably, an image of John Doe flashed in Emma’s mind. Could he be related to this woman? She immediately shook off the notion. Wouldn’t Tilly know if she had a missing relative who’d last been seen in the area? She chalked it up to her imagination.

“Is everything alright?” Tilly asked nervously.

Emma was embarrassed to find she’d been staring. She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry. You remind me of someone else, but I can’t place it.”

Tilly chuckled. “I get that a lot.”

Emma narrowed her eyes and looked more closely at the woman. She didn’t look older than 25. “Forgive me if this sounds offensive, but I wasn’t expecting someone so…”

“Young?” Tilly replied. “I’m older than I look. And I’ve studied bog bodies for years. I was quite excited when Jeff phoned and mentioned you’d found one here.”

“Yeah,” Emma said with a shake of her head. “Emphasis on the past tense.”

“Yes. Jeff mentioned that. Any luck on finding him?”

Emma shifted her gaze to Jeff. “That’s actually why I’m here. Graham wanted me to come by and see if I could find anything they missed.”

Jeff waved his hand through the air in a flourishing motion. “By all means. I will never object to a closer inspection from you, dear Emma.” He gave her a flirtatious wink.

Emma scoffed, but before she could say anything more, Tilly jumped in. “Really Jeff? Has a lecherous come-on ever truly worked for you?”

Smiling, Emma pointed to Tilly. “I like her.”

She proceeded to search through the lab while Jeff and Tilly stepped out to visit the cafeteria. Emma searched all throughout the small space, but found nothing that wasn’t already reported by Graham and David. She was tapping her foot frustratedly when Jeff returned.

“No luck?” he asked.

“Nothing that David and Graham haven’t found.” She noticed he’d returned alone. “Where’s Tilly?”

“She wanted to stay upstairs to go through the pictures and scans I took the other day. Wifi is better in the cafeteria than down here.”

“Got it,” Emma replied. “I’m gonna go visit the security office and go over the tapes again.”

“Good idea,” Jeff replied. “I think Walter was the one working Friday night. I wouldn’t put it past him to have fallen asleep on the job.”

Emma bid Jeff farewell and headed up one floor to the security desk. Walter, nicknamed Sleepy, was a very nice guy, but she was pretty sure he was a narcoleptic. Emma had no idea why he was still employed as a security guard. She was all for giving opportunities, but surely there was another job more suited for this guy, right?

When she made it to the desk, she learned that Walter was not in, and wouldn’t be back until the night shift started at 8:00. Resigning herself, Emma sat down to begin reviewing the tape from the other night.

After 45 minutes of reviewing footage from the camera inside the morgue, Emma was nearly ready to pass out. She stood up with the intention of going to get a coffee. However, once she was on the elevator, she decided to first visit John Doe.

Arriving at his floor, she exited the elevator and followed the hall to his room. She knocked on the door frame and he turned to her, flashing her a brilliant smile.

“Swan,” he beamed at her as she walked over to him. He was leaning against the side of the bed, wearing a pair of blue scrub pants and a plain white t-shirt.

“You’re looking well,” she said, returning his smile.

“I feel well. ‘Fit as a fiddle,’ as Dr. Whale says. Other than my lack of memory.”

“You up for a walk?”

“I’d love one,” he replied, and she could swear he had a literal twinkle in his eye.

She looked down at his feet, which she noticed were bare. “Do you have any shoes?”

“Yes, they’re just under the bed there.” He reached down and pulled out a truly ugly pair of sneakers which velcro closures. They looked like orthopedic shoes. He held them up and laughed. “These were apparently left by a former patient. They’re quite a fright to look at, but at least they fit me. Although I do wish we could find the original owner. I hate to think of someone else going without footwear.”

Emma smiled and decided against telling him that whoever left them probably wasn’t missing them at all. He finished putting on his shoes and stood again, standing awkwardly. “Are they comfortable?” she asked.

“Not particularly,” he smiled. “But they’ll do. Now, lead the way.”

Dublin, Ireland, June 15, 1752

She heard footsteps pounding up the stairs moments before the door flung open and he ran into the room.

“Papa!” she cried as she ran to her father.

“Alice.” He panted heavily, trying to catch his breath. “It’s no use. He’s found us. We can’t run anymore.”

“How did he follow us here?”

“I don’t know, love. He must have a way to track your magic.”

She looked perplexed. “What will we do now? Are we never allowed to have a normal life?”

Papa’s lips set in a hard line and his eyebrows drew close together. “I need to face the demon.”

“Papa No!” She tugged on his arm. “Don’t! He’ll kill you!” Her eyes widened and she clung tighter to him. “Let’s run again. Eventually he will stop looking for us.”

“No, my love, he won’t. He will never stop.” He disentangled her from his arm with a grunt. “If I don’t face him now, what future is that? Always looking over our shoulders. Wondering if someone in the town works for him and is spying on us. I will not let you live such a life. This ends tonight.”

She defiantly grabbed his hand and pulled him to a stop. “The only thing that will end is your life! Papa! Please don’t do this!”

His posture relaxed and looked down at her, tears flooding his eyes. “I’m sorry starfish. I must.”

“Then let me come with you.”

“No! You have to stay here. I need to know that you are safe. That’s the only way I can make it through.”

“But Papa…” she trailed off as her eyes flooded with tears.

He kneeled down to look her in the eye. “No, listen to me. You cannot go near that monster. Promise me, love. No matter what happens to me, promise you will never step foot near that devil if you can avoid it. I’ve done all this to protect you from him. Will you so easily give up my labors?”

“What will you do?” She sniffled in defeat. “How can you convince him to leave us alone?”

“I have a plan, my dear. Trust me, please.”

“I don’t like this Papa. Please don’t leave me.”

He reached out and wiped a tear from her cheek “I know you don’t like this, but you are stronger than you know. If something happens, if I don’t come back, and if that bastard finds you…” he trailed off.

“What, Papa?” she asked, her voice quavering.

“Never stop fighting.” He moved his hand to settle it on her shoulder and tilted his head to force her to meet his gaze. “Starfish, you are so strong. You have abilities I could only dream of. He wants you so he can exploit your gifts. But you are stronger than him. You can fight him.”

Tears were pouring down her cheeks and she gulped huge sobs. “I…” her words were choked out by another sob. “I don’t know, Papa. I don’t even know how to control this power. How can I use it to fight him?”

“I hope we don’t have to find out just yet. I hope that my plan works. But if it doesn’t, then trust in yourself. Listen to your instincts.” He pulled her into a tight embrace. “I love you, Alice. And I am so proud of you. You are my light in a dark world.”

“I love you too, Papa.”

She stood by the window and watched him leave, tears flooding down her cheeks, accompanied by huge gulping sobs. She bit her lip to try and stop its quivering. She paced the room, tried reading a book, and did anything she could think of to occupy her time. But it was no use. Eventually she found herself at the window once more. She wanted to be near her Papa, no matter his wishes. She couldn’t bear the thought of him facing that monster alone. Alice squeezed her eyes tight and held her breath, thinking hard of her Papa and picturing his face. Her eyes stayed shut, but she suddenly felt the air around her change. She could smell the musty odor of grass dampened by an evening rainstorm. Prying one eye open, she saw that she was standing in the woods, just beyond a clearing of trees where a group of men had gathered.

No, she realized with a start. Not a group of men. A mob. Surrounding one man. Papa.

She opened her mouth to call out to him, but thought better of it and instead hid behind a particularly large tree trunk. She didn’t know her magic could do this! She could transport herself to any location just by thinking of it? It was no wonder the evil man Gold wanted her power! She focused her gaze on Papa. If she could change her location with just a thought, could she use her magic to protect him? She stared at him and concentrated her mind on one sentence: please don’t let them kill my papa.

Papa stood armed with a sword, his cutlass from his time in the Navy. He’d kept it sharp, and since their first encounter with the evil man, he’d been practicing his skills. He held it out now in a defensive stance as he faced down the semi-circle of five men.

“I admire your bravery, even as futile as it is,” she heard Gold call out, safely shielded by his guards. “Where is the girl?”

“I’ll never give her to you! She is not some possession you can take from me. She is my daughter and I will die to keep her safe!”

“That can be arranged,” the evil man growled, motioning to his henchmen, who started to close in on Papa. “This is your last chance. Give me the girl now and I will spare your life.”

“I am not a coward like you! I will not give her up to spare myself.”

“So be it,” the evil man replied, and his first henchman lunged toward Papa. But Papa was ready, and he parried the blow. He fought the brute of a man for only a few minutes before sinking his sword into the man’s belly. He withdrew the sword with a horrible sucking noise before turning to his next attacker.

One by one he took down the henchman, until he stood in front of Gold, sweating and panting, but otherwise none the worse for wear. Alice was proud of his abilities, but continued to repeat her mantra quietly to herself. “Please don’t let him kill my Papa. Please don’t let him kill my Papa.”

The smaller man heaved a put-upon sigh. “It is impossible to find good help these days.” Gold thrust his arm forward and Papa’s sword flew from his hand and into the other man’s grasp. “I really should be conserving my power, but for you, I’ll make an exception.” Alice could just make out the sneer on his face as he raised his other hand. Papa instinctively lifted his arm to block a blow, but was instead magically frozen in place. Gold brought Papa’s sword down and, in one swift blow, severed his left hand from his wrist.

The enchantment holding him in place lifted and Papa screamed in anguish, grasping his left forearm in his right hand while blood poured down over what remained of his wrist. Gold raised the sword again, going for a killing blow, but Alice felt as her magic reached out and encircled Papa. The blow glanced off the barrier, knocking the sword from Gold’s hand and throwing him back several yards. Alice ran out to the clearing and kneeled beside Papa.

“Alice!” Papa choked out. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s okay Papa. I’ve got you,” she replied in as soothing a tone as possible.

“You little bitch!” Gold screamed as he stood, but before he could advance, Alice wrapped her arms around Papa and squeezed her eyes shut, magically transporting them back home.

When they landed, Alice realized they weren’t at the boarding house in Dublin they’d been hiding in. They were back at their old house, in Dorset, in front of the blacksmith’s shop. The place Alice thought of when she thought of home. Papa clenched his teeth to avoid screaming again. Blood still gushed from the wound. She could tell he wouldn’t last long at this rate.

She moved to put her hands on his arm to try and see if she could use her magic to heal him, but he shoved her away as gently as he could in his current state.

“No, starfish,” he grunted. “Don’t touch it.”

“We have to stop the bleeding, Papa!” She pleaded with him, eyes wide.

His eyes, which had remained mostly dry until now, poured over with shameful tears as he looked upon his daughter. He nodded slowly and she wrapped her small fingers around his mangled wrist, closing her eyes and concentrating with all her might to heal him. She could feel her magic starting and sputtering, but the reservoir was seemingly drained, leaving nothing to allow her to heal him. She opened her eyes and stared at him.

“I’m sorry Papa. I can’t do it.” She felt fresh, hot tears leak from her eyes now as guilt washed over her.

“Don’t…” he grunted. “Don’t blame yourself… ah… star… fish. You’ve… done… so much… bloody hell!” He clenched his teeth, holding back the string of curses he so obviously wanted to let loose, but would not allow himself to do in her presence.

His face cleared for a brief moment as he looked at the shop behind them. It had been taken over by someone else, and she could see the coals of the fire still glowing. Papa stood and stumbled as best he could to the shop. The new occupant stood there, having just placed an oblong disk into the forge. He turned and jumped when he saw Papa and Alice, both covered in blood.

“What happened to you, mate?!” the blacksmith cried as he took them in.

Papa ignored him. “Alice, get the…” he paused, groaning. “Get the tongs. Take that disk out of the fire and put it on the anvil.”

Alice did as he instructed. The shop owner just stood back, watching the scene in abject horror. Papa stumbled to the anvil and stood there, gathering his courage as best he could. “Stand… stand back love,” he said to Alice, and she obeyed. She watched as he took a deep breath, then slammed the open end of his blunted wrist onto the hot metal. A loud hissing noise filled the room, followed by an inhuman shriek of pain from Papa. The sickening smell of burnt flesh permeated the air. Papa kept his wrist on the disk for as long as he could before he collapsed beside the anvil. Alice looked at his arm. Where once there’d been a strong, calloused hand, there now stood a black, smoking hunk of flesh. Alice felt her knees weaken and she fell to floor, letting her sobs overtake her.

Storybrooke, Present Day

“So,” Emma began, shoving her hands in her pockets as she peered over at her companion. “Have you had any luck in remembering anything?”

“Unfortunately, no. And Dr. Whale cannot find a medical explanation for my memory loss. It’s quite the puzzle. The only thing he’s determined conclusively is that I must be some sort of craftsman. Perhaps a metallurgist.”

“Why does he think that?”

He stopped and held out his hand to her for inspection. “I have a fair number of burn marks in my arms that would indicate I have spent some time in that trade.”

She tentatively reached for his right arm and held it at the wrist, inspecting the scars that indicated he’d on more than one occasion had hot flecks of metal embedded in his skin. “Well,” she said in reply, “at least we now have a name for you.”

“We do? That’s new information to me.”

“Mr. Smith,” she replied with a smile, meeting his gaze with her own.

He returned her expression with a dazzling smile of his own. “Mr. Smith it is, then.” He slowly pulled his arm back. Emma loosened her grip, but before she could retract her hand, he caught it in his own and threaded their fingers together. Their hands dropped to hang between them and they continued their stroll, taking in the pleasantly warm weather.

They walked along for some time, and Emma was struck by how thoroughly at home she felt with this man. She was so comfortable with him, nothing like her relationships with Neal or Graham. In both situations she’d felt a deep sense of inequality, where her partner was providing her with more than she was giving in return. And while she’d only known Mr. Smith for a day, she knew instinctively that a relationship with him would be different. She felt on equal ground with him, which, when she thought about it, was absurd since he was far more dependent on her at the moment. There was also the hugely inconvenient fact that she knew nothing about this man. Still, she couldn’t stop the sense of right that she felt at his side.

They stopped to watch the reflection of the sky on a small pond.

“So,” Smith began, “Since I can’t tell you about myself, can you tell me about you? I know you work for the constable.”

“Sheriff’s Office,” Emma corrected, “but yes, I’m a deputy.”

“Marvelous. I’ve never known a woman to hold that position before, although I’ve known many who would be much more formidable than some of the men I’ve seen hold that office.”

She smiled up at him. “I am really starting to believe that you must come from some sort of Amish community. It’s 2018. How have you never seen a female cop before?”

“It’s 2018, you say?” he asked suddenly, stopping and staring at the ground, his brow furrowed.

“Yes. Did you just remember something?”

“No… that is, not a fact or a memory. More of an impression. It seems very strange to me, the year. Like I am having a hard time believing so many years have passed.”

“So many years?”

“Hundreds…” he replied, trailing off as he met her gaze. He held her captive with his eyes for a brief moment before tearing away. “But that’s ridiculous. It would be impossible for me to be alive if hundreds of years had passed before I woke up.”

Emma licked her lips and swallowed thickly. “Right…”

“Can you tell me something else?” He asked, his expression pleading with her to change the subject.

“I have a son,” she responded with another smile. “Henry. He’s twelve. He’s not really interested in spending time with his mom anymore.”

“I see,” Smith said, looking dejected. “I am sure he is a fine lad. And the boy’s father?”

Emma stopped again and looked up, placing her hand on his shoulder. “He’s gone. It’s just me and Henry.”

His face relaxed and his eyes lit up. “I know this sounds crazy,” Smith said with a coy smile, “but I think I know what that’s like. Being on your own with a child.”

“You have a child?” Her sense of panic flared at his words and she quickly pulled her hand away. “I need to work harder to find your family. Your child could be all alone!”

He paused and reached out, grabbing her hand once more and squeezing lightly.“I don’t know for sure that I do, but any help you can provide to restore my memories I will gladly accept.”

Emma calmed as she looked at him again. She could get lost in the depths of his brilliant blue eyes. Without fully realizing it, she slowly began to rise on her toes, bringing their mouths closer to one another. When they were just a breath apart, she paused, realizing what she was doing. Part of her desperately wanted to close the gap and capture his lips with her own. But another part of her hesitated, skeptical of the unexplainable connection she felt to this man.

Before she could make up her mind, she heard her name being called from a distance. She lowered down quickly and gently released Smith’s hand, turning to face her brother.

“David,” she replied with a smile. “I was just taking a break from reviewing security footage. You remember the amnesic patient I found yesterday, right? I wanted to check on him.” She gestured to her companion. “David, this is Mr. Smith. Well,” she paused, “that’s what we’re calling him until he remembers his name. Mr. Smith, this is my brother, David.”

Smith took David’s hand in his own and shook it heartily. “Pleased to meet you.”

“Likewise,” David said, looking at the other man warily. He turned his gaze to Emma. “So, we need to head back to Jeff’s office. The forensic expert he brought in has something to show us.”

“Tilly? Did she say what it was? I met her earlier. She didn’t show me anything new then.”

“No. She just said it might be helpful in our search.”

“Okay, let me walk Mr. Smith back to his room and I’ll join you down there.”

“I’ll walk with you,” David replied in a tone that brokered no argument. They speedily returned Smith to his room and then continued on toward the elevators. Once they were safely on board, David turned to his sister with a disdainful look.

“Were you seriously about to kiss that man, Emma?”

“What? No! Of course not.”

“Good. Don’t give into the urge if it arises again. That man is vulnerable. He doesn’t need you clouding his mind with confusing thoughts while he tries to recover.”

“David!” Emma smacked her brother on the arm with the back of her hand. “You act like I’m some sort of a man-eater. I was not doing anything that could be considered taking advantage of a patient.”

“Could have fooled me,” was all David said in reply. Emma felt shame bloom across her face and remained silent until they reached Jeff’s office. Once there, they were met with Jeff, Tilly, and Graham.

“Emma,” Graham said by way of greeting. “I believe you’ve met Ms. Towers?”

“Tilly, please Sheriff,” the young woman interjected before Emma could respond. Graham nodded in reply.

“Yes, we’ve met,” Emma said. “I hear you have something for us?”

“I do,” Tilly said in an excited manner. She turned to the laptop behind her and clicked through a few windows before finding what she was looking for. “I was able to create a composite sketch of what the body may have looked like when he was alive, based on the scans and pictures Jeff took.

“Okay,” Emma said. “While that’s cool, how does it help us find the body?”

“Emma, please, let her finish,” Graham scolded, and Emma felt like she was 10 years old and being pushed around by James.

Tilly turned her screen so they could see the sketch. It was remarkable. The picture looked like a very handsome man, with an angular jaw, deep set eyes, and a long nose that was slightly bulbous at the end.

“Hey,” David said. “That looks just like Mr. Smith.”

“Pardon?” Tilly asked, perking up and staring at David with more than a little interest.

“Mr. Smith,” David replied. “The amnesic patient Emma found yesterday. She was just upstairs visiting and I met him. The resemblance is almost uncanny. I wonder if they’re related or something like that.”

“You found an amnesic patient yesterday?” Tilly asked, turning to Emma. “No one thought to tell me this sooner?”

“What relevance would it have for you?” Emma asked, getting increasingly annoyed at all the people chastising her. “You’re not here to help us with a missing person case. You’re here to help us find a missing 300 year-old body.”

“Where is this man?” Tilly asked in reply, ignoring Emma’s question.

“Nowhere you’re going to find him,” Emma replied defensively. “He has no relevance to your purpose here. You need to leave him alone.”

Tilly huffed and snapped her laptop shut. “We’re done for the day. I’m going back to my room at Granny’s to continue some more work. Jeff, you have my number if something comes up.”

“Sure Tilly,” Jeff replied softly. “See you later.”

Tilly quickly threw her laptop in a backpack and stomped out of the room.

“What was that about?” Graham asked, turning to Emma.

“I don’t see why she needs to go bothering Mr. Smith. He’s no concern of hers.”

“And I think he’s had enough bothering for today,” David added, causing Emma to throw him an angry glare.

To be continued in Part 3!

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