#IT WAS A SUIT BOUGHT OUT OF PURE LOVE OKAY
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do you cry when Darcy's friends gave her their bits of money so she could afford her gender-affirming prom outfit or are you normal?
#IT WAS A SUIT BOUGHT OUT OF PURE LOVE OKAY#IM SO NOT NORMAL ABOUT IT#heartstopper#heartstopper s2#kizzy edgell#darcy olsson
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I think I said I would do no nut November as a joke bc I didn’t do October so 😭😭😭 here u go
desc: yandere nerd x gn willing reader, mentions of stalking, obsession, creep habits, the usual, was gonna make nsfw but it got long so maybe part 2 will actually be the no nut part
The bookworm of your class has trouble not looking at you, not focusing in on how beautiful you presented yourself today, jesus, is that a new body mist? It’s almost like you knew he loves sweet scents.
He stares at the back of your head lovingly until you turn around and catch his stare on accident after you were about to speak to your friend. He freezes in the wooden chair he sits in and sees you slowly speaking to your friend while knitting your brows in a confused expression as you stare back.
Fuck fuck fuck. He manages to look away with red cheeks, ears burning a scorching temperature in embarrassment. He didn’t expect you to turn to your friend!! You had never done that so why now?
God, he hopes he didn’t look like a creep, he can’t even follow along to the lesson since his hands are too shaky and his mind can’t settle on one thing to think about other than you.
This is the only occasions his brain is fried and jumbled, he feels so dumb when you plague his mind to the point where he’s unable to think or speak.
The lesson passes thankfully, or so he thought until he sees you walking up to his desk, he hesitated to even look up, just staring straight ahead until you speak, if you listened closely you could these his teeth grinding in pure anxiousness.
“Hey, do you mind?” Your voice is in a regular tone, no anger, no disgust, nothing, this being the first time you’ve ever spoken to him, but he doesn’t pick up on that fact.
“Nono! Go ah- ahead” He mentally curses at himself for being such a mess up when his throat fails to smoothly deliver his words. He gets up, collecting his books and allowing you to get a better look at him.
“I was just wondering if you wanted to study together after school, you seemed to be a little lost during class so I wanted to offer my help” You grin, hoping it was friendly like you imagined it to be.
“Oh— um, yeah! I mean yes, thank you, sorry” He rambled, stupidly continuing his sentence even though it was just a yes or no question. He couldn’t imagine that his dream would come true by the hands of you.
All the stalking he’s done, passing in the same route you go after managing to log into your school account to find out what your schedule was, going to every party you went to just to hide in a corner for the entire duration to make sure nobody would try to take you home, he’d do anything to make sure you were safe and happy.
It’s humorous to him that he has you in his room now, looking around with your curiosity peaked at how he’s decorated his room, games and such, a few posters here and there.
He just hopes the last minute decorating suits him because the hundereds of photos he had to tear off his wall had him wincing every time, he’s never dared to take them off until now, nor even hide the plushies he’s bought that look like you, but he assured himself it was for the sake of you, so he managed to do it.
“So, can you remember what this mixture does? When the 5th and 8th are swished together?” You point your pencil, circling around the ones you were mentioning, wondering if he would get this one right.
This poor little nerd is shaking on whether to pretend he doesn’t know or impress you with his knowledge, he’s the top of the class but you thought he didn’t get the subject.
So he decided to pretend.
“Um… it makes this one right?” He weakly says, hoping his confused voice sounded realistic, he doesn’t like the taste of lying on his tongue, but he’s doing it for you so it’s okay in his mind.
You shake your head with a disapproving hum but make sure not to embarrass him by pointing at the right answer. “It’s this one, I created a rhyme to remember since it’s kinda hard to remember it” You wrote down your own creation of a rhyme on his notes, making sure it was right by whispering it to yourself.
Honestly too cute, his heart is pounding out of his chest while he gushes over how adorable you looked, you’re a drug that he can’t stay away from, and he loves every second of this high he gets.
As you scribble the lines down he hopes you write more so he can treasure how your handwriting and add it to his growing collection. The growth is spreading like wildfire just from you being in his room and doing normal things.
“Sorry if it’s out of the blue but I haven’t ate all day, can I get some snacks or something?” You could feel your stomach growl, hoping it wasn’t as loud as you imagined it to be.
“Huh- yeah sure! Of course!” He jumps up, quickly scrambling to get out from under the table the two of you worked on. “I’ll get you something, don’t worry!” He happily says, quickly zigzagging out his own room to get you something to eat.
You thought he was an interesting classmate, that’s for sure. You wondered what type of personality he had, was he always this shy and desperate to please?
You placed your pencil down, forgetting to set it down on something sturdy, it rolls down under his bed into the darkness, before you could even realize what specific area it rolled into. You make sightless grabs and manage to get ahold of something.
You bring it out to find out it’s nothing like a pencil and in fact a plushie, a cute one, but it looks a little familiar, it sort of resembles you? Maybe it’s just a coincidence? You pat it’s plush little head and place it down on the side, making another grab to find one plushie after another.
Seriously! How many plushies did he need? And why did they all look like you?
You only piece together that you’ve discovered a part of his shrine when you pull out a collage of pictures that all contain you.
You talking with your friend who was angrily scribbled out, another of you eating at lunch, one of you just tired during a lecture, and the most intimate ones being of you sleeping and in your house. You can tell one of them is more recent by how the picture was of you in your pajamas cooking yesterdays dinner.
Your eyes quickly dart to observe each photo, pondering about when or how he could’ve taken these.
Speak of the devil he enters with a plate of your favorite food, something you’ve never told him and you’re sure that it’s not another coincidence.
His jaw drops as he sees you surrounded by his plushie collection and most terrifying of all, his collage of his favorite pictures of you.
“That’s— um- I can explain! It’s just—“ He hastily shoves the plate onto his studying table, trying to reason with unfinished rambles of whatever, you honestly blocked it out.
“What is all this?” Your face contorts into blatant confusion and he can’t read the glint in your eyes, something he‘s never failed to do.
“I’m sorry, im s—sorry” He hiccups, already into a crying mess without any actual words of rejection, he’s on his knees, hands clasping onto your pants as he begs for who knows what.
“I-I promise I won’t stalk you anymore, please? I know it’s creepy and wrong but I like you I really do“ He cries, hoping you wouldn’t kick him to the side and yell at him like he’d assume you would do.
He knew he was a creep but he couldn’t stop himself, it all started with you helping him grab his things after he dropped it in a busy hallway and then the obsession never stopped, it was like a parasite that he couldn’t stop feeding and he loved every second of it, of you.
“It’s fine” You pat his head, brushing some hair out his face.
“It’s fine..?” He repeats, wondering if he’s heard you correctly, he sniffles and melts into your soft touch, even though he feels undeserving of it right now.
“Well I kinda had an idea that there was something up with you. By how many times I’ve seen you throughout my week, I’ve noticed that you’re always in the background watching me” You bring him up to stand, his legs are so shaky he’s almost leaning on you.
“You’re n..not mad right?” He hiccups again, now getting embarrassed at how pathetic he sounded, his glassy eyes scanned your expression, praying this wasn’t a cruel joke and that you genuinely didn’t mind.
“Not really, just.. don’t take pictures inside my house” You’re tempted to joke with him by whacking his arm with a plushie of his but you don’t. You just continue to tuck his hair behind his ears so they no longer stick to his wet cheeks.
“Ookay! I won’t” He quickly nods, eager to please you, especially since you seemed to have accepted him even with his creepy habits and flaws.
“And if you want a picture just ask, you don’t have to take them far away without my permission” You grab his phone, wiping his tears away with your sleeve and blowing his bangs out his face, he’s practically crimson red by how he closed his eyes thinking you were going to kiss his forehead.
“Here, look” You sit next to him, backs pressed against the wall of his bed as you take a photo, you tell him to smile after seeing the blank expression on his face.
“Sorry, I’m just nervous” He mumbles, wiping his damp face to make sure he didn’t look that bad in the photo, he’s only closed his eyes for one moment before he feels pressure on top of his lap, oh my god you’re in his lap why are you in his lap?
Before he can sputter out those questions you take a picture, making a kissy face as he looks flustered and confused in the photo, you turn his phone to show the picture you took.
“Why not put that one in your collage?” You turn to see how he looks and there’s not a single thought behind his eyes, looks like you broke him and the teasing has barely even started.
#yxami’s yam#yandere#yandere x you#yandere x y/n#male yandere#yandere imagines#yandere scenarios#pls request#yandere nerd#yandere nerd ic#yandere boy#yandere male#yandere guy#yandere x gn reader#yandere x willing reader#yandere virgin#yandere nerd oc#nerd yandere
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Do you do yandere requests? Because I want to request yandere Adam and Lute with a shy imp reader who's terrified of angels and exorcists because she had a very traumatic experience during extermination day. Maybe he tries to take her to heaven, thinking she's too pure for hell and convincing Sera to turn her into an angel?
Milk & Cookies
Part 1/2 Part 2
A/N: I don’t usually write yandere so I hope you like it! I did my best but Adam might be a little out of character. I can do headcanons if this doesn’t satisfy, just request!
Warnings: Toxic relationships
Adam found (Name) during an extermination. The imp looked so utterly terrified, Adam actually couldn’t bring himself to kill her. She hadn’t seen him, so when she ran, Adam followed her. He didn’t really know why or what was special about this imp, but he was drawn to her.
When he met back up with Lute, he confided to her about the imp and his strange pull towards her. Lute shrugged him off until a year later, during the next extermination. She found an imp that looked so scared, it made Lute pause.
“What’s up, danger tits?” Adam asked, noticing her hesitation. He followed her gaze to the same imp who had been on his mind since last year.
“Her,” he murmured. “That’s her?” Lute asked. “Okay, I get it now.”
Adam pulled some strings to gather intel on the imp when they were finished the extermination. Her name was (Name). She’d been attacked during an extermination a few years ago, leaving her with white scars, and her best friend was brutally slaughtered in front of her. Adam was sympathetic, no wonder she was so terrified.
He decided her quality of life in Hell didn’t suit what she deserved. The poor thing deserved to be in Heaven.
With him.
During the next extermination, Adam and Lute sought her out. When they found her, she screamed and cried and begged, throwing things and kicking in a futile attempt to keep them back. But her small frame was nothing compared to Adam.
“Relax, we’re not gonna fucking hurt you,” he tried to soothe her, but he wasn’t exactly a soothing presence.
When it was clear she couldn’t be reasoned with, Adam just picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, taking flight with Lute close behind. (Name) screamed and cried, pounding on his back and kicking her feet, but she was no match to Adam’s strength.
It was hard to be discreet, carrying a resistant imp into Heaven. But he was Adam, and no one questioned him.
By the time they got to Adam’s home, (Name) had calmed down, accepting her fate. Adam brought her to his bedroom and put her down, blocking the door. She scampered into a corner, curling up into a fetal position.
Adam approached her and crouched down, holding out his hand like she was a scared animal. She blinked at him, her eyes teary, and recoiled. Adam sighed.
“It’s okay,” he said, voice sickly sweet. “You’ll learn to love it here. You’ll learn to love me.” (Name) whimpered.
Over the next few weeks, Adam kept her locked in his room, the only people allowed in being himself and Lute. Adam was slowly breaking (Name) down, getting her to accept her circumstances and accept him.
He even got her to tell him why she was so afraid of him in her own words. He fawned over her, pretending to be shocked and appalled by her story.
She bought it, and for the first time, let Adam touch her with a hug. Adam was ecstatic that she was coming around.
One day, he and Lute were on their way back to Adam’s home, when Sera appeared and stopped them.
“Adam, what is this I hear about you keeping an imp in your home?”
“Oh, (Name)? I’ve been meaning to talk to youuu,” he made meek finger guns at her.
She was unimpressed.
“Fine, she was too good for hell, and I want you to turn her into an angel.”
“She is hellborn. She has to want to become an angel to be turned,” Sera said. “And I have a feeling she doesn’t want to.” She gave Adam a pointed look.
“She will,” Adam declared.
Later that night, he brought the topic up to the imp during dinner.
“I want you to become an angel.”
(Name) stopped eating. “I like being an imp.”
“Don’t be fucking stupid, you’re the weakest breed in hell. You have a chance to live in Heaven forever. With me. Don’t you want that?”
(Name) teared up. “No, I don’t, I want to go home.”
Adam had been expecting resistance. “You’ll want it in time,” he said, standing and leaving her in the locked room. He didn’t care how long it took. He would break her down until she loved him.
Then she would stay with him.
Forever.
#hazbin adam#adam x reader#hazbin alastor#hazbin angel dust#hazbin charlie#hazbin husk#hazbin vaggie#hazbin vox#x reader#hazbin lute#hazbin hotel
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✮ a whisper of our love ✮
TW: don’t let the cute visuals deceive you this is pure ANGST to fluff, delulu bada strikes again, bada doesn’t know how to process her emotions but it’s okay she’s trying, reader is a chronic sweetie pie no one hate on her or i’ll find you, character death, guns, blood, descriptions of injury, grieving, emotional trauma, survivor’s guilt!! flashbacks in this fic are indicated by italicized text, sweet smut (dom & top!bada sub & bottom!reader, fingering–r!receiving, oral–bada!receiving, finger sucking–bada!receiving, scissoring/tribbing whatever you wanna call it–both!receiving obvs, tit sucking–r!receiving, a bit of spit… sorry, lots of praise & fluffy love–r!receiving) aftercare happens out of the fic
SUMMARY: bada confronts years of profound emotional turmoil to embrace the depths of her affection for you.
WC: 16.1k…no comment
A/N: find more information about this au on my masterlist! ...here it is!! the long-awaited official first kiss + first i love you, as well as first time together as a couple!! ngl i’m really proud of this one. many (not so obvious too) plot points come together this time so keep an eye out for them!! again–please ignore any spelling errors this is so long–& this one might be a bit heavy around the middle part so please take care of yourself!! but enjoy!!
DISCLAIMER: all characteristics portrayed are purely speculation and fiction, they are not meant to reflect bada or team bebe’s actual character, values, or attitudes. please keep this in mind!!
Several months after the Seong incident, it finally felt like things were going back to normal. You got back into the swing of things, embracing your time in the Lee mansion, and rarely leaving unless you got antsy. You became much more vigilant while out, carefully observing your surroundings and never straying too far away from Hyo’s side. Malls, grocery stores, and casual strolls became few and far between, but at your behest. You gained a sense of normalcy staring at the same large walls and divots in your home—happy with your life as it is, everything felt complete.
Bada, on the other hand, who had become increasingly protective to the point she had been somewhat clingy, was finally starting to ease back into her busy work schedule, her visitations becoming rarer. Although you felt a bit melancholic at the fact that she was pulling away from you, you accepted that work would always be a large part of Bada’s life – whether either liked it or not.
Thoughts such as these swirl in your mind as you get ready for a new day, rays of warm beige sunlight peaking through your mesh curtains and swirling in the air of your room. Every part of your body feels relaxed, muscles moving fluidly as you dress yourself up. Today, you’d invited your friends over – with Bada’s permission, of course – for a small get-together. A real one.
They’d been nagging you for days on end about seeing you again, and after finally breaking under the pressure, you invited them to come over and have breakfast with you, then take a nice dip in the infinity pool. You could practically hear the squeals of excitement through the all-caps text messages they’d responded with, all agreeing to your proposal and before conversing about what bathing suit they’d bring.
Now, on the day of their arrival, you get ready slightly earlier than you normally do, preparing accordingly for your friends.
“Good morning, Hyo.” You greet your bodyguard with a smile as you step out of your bedroom.
“Good morning, kid.” She nods. “Up and about already?”
“Yup,” you begin walking down the hallway, Hyo following you without a second thought. “The girls are coming over today for breakfast.”
“Right,” Hyo acknowledges. “You bought all those groceries yesterday for them.”
“Mhm,” you nod. “I need to get started on the cooking so that the food is ready for them when they arrive.”
“What a great hostess you are.” Hyo lightly teases you.
“Please, it’s just common courtesy.” You have a hand in dismissal. “Besides, knowing Jae, she’ll be crying about how she’s ‘so hungry’ the second she gets here.”
“Jae…” Hyo trails off, her mind wandering back to the day you’d been kidnapped, and how the woman had aided in your rescue. “I can tell you two care about each other a lot.”
“We do.” You turn into the kitchen, greeting the staff that’s already busy at work. "She's the first friend I made and the longest-lasting friendship I've ever had."
“How long?” Hyo asks, leaning against the counter as you begin to take out ingredients.
“Let’s see…” you pause, thinking to yourself. “about… fifteen years now, give or take a year or so.”
Hyo whistles loudly, sucking her teeth. “That’s a very long time.”
“It is,” you nod, “but really, it doesn’t feel that way. She’s always keeping me on my toes.”
Hyo snorts, “I can tell.” You lightly elbow her in the shoulder before focusing back on the food in front of you. “So, how’d you meet the rest of them?”
“Through my parents and school.” You start chopping some of the fresh vegetables on a newly cleaned chopping board. “I met Min-Ji not too long after Jae. She was the class president, and I was one of the top students, so we naturally clicked. Our parents also were long-time friends, so that was another factor, of course.”
“Min-Ji… which one was she?” Hyo crosses her arms across her chest, trying to remember the faces of your friends from the party.
“She was wearing a black cocktail dress. She has long black hair–”
“Ah, yes.” Hyo snaps her fingers. “I remember. She had a very mature look.”
“That’s because she’s the oldest out of all of us.” You nod. “Da-Eun is the second oldest. She’s the sporty type.”
“Was she the one that almost attacked me for pulling you out of the house?” Hyo scoffs.
“Yes,” you laugh, “that was Da-Eun. But don’t hold it against her, she’s very hot-headed and protective by nature.”
“I won’t.” Hyo shrugs. “I think it’s important to have friends that care about you.”
“I agree. They’ve all got me through some tough times.” You move around the kitchen, pulling out spices and seasoning the food. “What about you, Hyo?”
“My friends…” she lets out a long sigh. “Are all the Bebe girls, Boss, and you.”
You give Hyo a bright smile, nudging her shoulder, “Aww, you really do consider me your friend.”
“Are you really that surprised?” She chuckles.
“No, I knew you couldn’t resist my friendly disposition.” you wink at her playfully.
“Right…” she trails off. “So what’s on the menu?”
“I’m making kimchi pancakes, and egg rolls.” You say, while beating the eggs.
“Do you need help, Ms. Lee?” The head cook suddenly cuts in, offering to cook for you.
“Oh no, it’s alright.” You kindly dismiss. “I’ve got it.”
The head cook lightly bows before returning to preparing Bada’s breakfast.
You glance at Hyo from the corner of your eye, motioning her to come closer. She raises her eyebrows, but complies. “I still find it a bit strange that all the staff call me Ms. Lee.” You whisper to her.
“Well, you are engaged to the Boss,” Hyo whispers back.
“But we’re not married yet.” You point out.
“In their minds, you already are. You’re the Boss’s wife.”
Hearing it said aloud makes it more real. Although you’ve been living in the Lee mansion, and getting to know everyone, it slips your mind that this large building will officially become your home in a few months. That all the staff will be working for you – though technically they already are – that Bada’s business will, in some ways, be yours as well.
You will have her last name. You will be her wife.
As if in a trance, you move about the kitchen on autopilot, cooking, and eventually cleaning once you’re finished.
And like divine timing, the doorbell from the very front gate sounds, ringing in the living room and kitchen, taking you by surprise. “They’re here.” You mumble, hurriedly plating the kimchi pancakes, egg rolls, and their drinks.
It takes them a few minutes to get past security detail – although Bada agreed to let them visit, her only caveat was that they’d need to go through extensive security, for your protection, of course. But the second they step into the living room, all of their eyes widen, stars in their irises as they take in the diamond teardrop chandelier, and the golden-trimmed decorations glittering in the morning sun.
“This looks like the inside of Buckingham Palace.” Jae awes, her hand covering her agape mouth.
“How do you know what the inside of Buckingham Palace looks like?” Da-Eun raises an eyebrow at the younger woman.
Jae playfully glares at her friend, smacking her on the shoulder lightly. “It was just an expression.”
“Control yourselves.” Min-Ji cuts in, trying to contain the look of utter shock and amazement marring her expression. “We’re in someone else’s home now, so no funny business.”
“Where’s unnie?” Ryung speaks up, looking around the vast living room for you.
“Sorry–” you walk in from the kitchen carrying plates in your hands, Hyo following close behind with some across her arms as well. “I would have greeted you right when you came in but I just finished plating the food.”
“Food?” Jae exclaims, her eyes lighting up like a Christmas tree. “You made food for us?”
“You really didn’t have to–” Min-Ji says humbly.
You give them lightly scolding looks as you place down their food on the long dining table. It’s decorated to perfection; a crisp white tablecloth draped over the walnut wood table. Lit candelabras that drip hot candle wax rest in the center and outermost edges, small vases with blossoming flowers accompanying them. And to top it all off, in front of each dining chair, fine china and crystal wine glasses with embossed detailing are set aside next to firmly polished silverware.
“I invited you all over for breakfast, did you really think I wouldn’t serve any food?”
“We thought you would just let the staff make it instead,” Da-Eun admits.
“No, they’re already very busy preparing breakfast for Bada and Bebe.” You wave a hand in dismissal. “I didn’t want to burden them with any more work.”
“That’s so sweet of you!” Jae practically squeals, throwing herself at you and squeezing you tight in a hug.
You let out a small “oof” at the action, but eventually laugh and hug your best friend back. You stay like that only a minute before the sound of tiny sniffles reaches your ears, making you take a step back with a worried expression. Jae stares back at you with tears in her eyes, and a distressed look on her face. “Jae?” You say softly. “What’s wrong?”
“Unnie…” she trails off, her voice getting gradually louder. “You scared me!” She lunges forward, holding onto you like a koala bear while she sobs.
“Wha–”
“When you got kidnapped I was so scared! I really thought I’d never see you again.” She practically wails.
You look up from your best friend’s figure, your eyes locking with the other girls. They all wear solemn expressions, either looking at the ground or staring at you hollowly. Your heart squeezes in your chest, the realization that you hadn’t seen your friends face to face since that day finally dawning on you.
For hours, they must have been waiting at home, terrified out of their minds, wondering if you were dead.
You pat Jae on the back, comforting her. “I’m so sorry I worried you all.”
“We felt like it was our fault,” Ryung speaks up, hanging her head. “If we hadn’t thrown that party, you wouldn’t have been kidnapped.”
“If I’d have just pummeled that creep when I got the chance–” Da-Eun clenches her fist.
“None of what happened was your fault.” You cut in, voice stern. “I agreed to go to the party, despite knowing it would be dangerous for me. It’s my fault.”
The girls seem to perk up at your words, but only slightly.
“And Da-Eun, if you’d punched Seong, you probably would have ended up being taken hostage like me, or worse.” You point out. “Now stop commiserating and eat the breakfast I made for you.”
The girls reluctantly listen to you, all of them choosing a seat before thanking you for the food once again and digging in. Conversation flows easily after that, the topic of Seong and your kidnapping left far behind. Instead, you talk about lighter subjects, like what the girls had been up to while you recovered.
Once you all top off your breakfast, you walk your plates over to the kitchen and place them in the sink to clean them.
“Ms. Lee, would you like me to wash the dishes for you?” The head cook pops out of the kitchen, standing in front of you with his hands behind his back.
“Oh, it’s alright, we should do it.” You say, the girls behind you letting out murmurs of agreement as well.
The cook once again looks surprised but nods, ducking back into the kitchen as you begin cleaning.
"Ms. Lee, huh?" Jae playfully bumps your hip.
You let out a long sigh while chuckling. "I haven't gotten used to it yet."
"Well, you'd better because, in a matter of months, you'll be Mrs. Lee, the wife of the most powerful mafia boss in Seoul." Jae looks up at the sky, a giddy grin on her face.
"When is the wedding, by the way?" Min-Ji asks.
"Ah, we still haven't decided on a date yet," you mumble, having finished cleaning your plate, "but I think sometime in December."
"Oh, winter." Da-Eun nods.
"That’s a beautiful time to get married," Ryung comments.
"You know,” Jae begins. “I always thought Min-Ji would be the first of us to marry,"
"Really?" Min-Ji looks around at you all, a flush painting the apples of her cheeks.
"Well, you've had a boyfriend for what," Da-Eun starts flipping up her fingers, counting. "five years now?"
"Jung-Hoon will make a good husband," Jae remarks.
"Why are you all speaking as if we're already engaged?" Min-Ji blubbers, clearly embarrassed. "We still have a few years before we should start thinking about marriage."
"Yes, you do, Min." You call your friend by her nickname, lightly nudging Da-Eun and Jae in their sides. "You don't have to get married early like I am. It's all on your time."
With your last assertion hanging in the air, you and the girls finish cleaning up before heading toward the infinity pool on the second level of the mansion. The excitement rises between your friends the moment you step onto the terrace, their expressions starstruck at the clear water rippling against the opal tiles at the bottom of the pool.
They hurry over to the pool chairs, set down their bags, and strip their clothes off, leaving them in the swimsuits they had underneath.
"The water's so beautiful." Ryung approaches the pool, dipping her fingers into the water. "Do you go swimming often?" She asks you.
"Yes," you answer while taking off your clothing, your swimsuit catching the morning light. "It's very relaxing on warm days like this."
"I would kill to have a pool this big." Jae grabs your hands, walking you over to the steps of the pool where your friends wait for you.
You all tread in, the water fresh as it cradles the skin of your legs and chest, making you let out a content sigh. There's nothing quite like taking a dip during stifling heat.
As it turns out, wearing a suit during one of the hottest days of the week wasn't Bada's brightest idea. The black-tinted window in her office only manages to absorb some of the sun's unrelenting heat, leaving Bada still sweating in her clothing, huffs of annoyance escaping her mouth every few minutes.
"Ugh," she groans, pushing her work away and sitting back in her chair. She spreads her legs, finding her calves unnaturally stiff—hours of sitting will do that to you, she supposes. Standing up reluctantly, Bada immediately removes her tie and suit jacket, as well as undoes the first few buttons of her dress shirt.
She fans herself with one hand, the other reaching down to grab a glass of water she'd been given with her breakfast. She chugs the liquid down in seconds, sighing when she's finished.
Steeling herself, Bada moves to sit down again but finds her legs still stiff and grunts in mild pain. So she decides not to sit down, and instead paces around her office. She loops about five times before she grows agitated and walks towards the door. She'd been working for five hours, pouring through the ceiling-high proposal documents from another group and was frankly going stir-crazy from staring at the papers.
She opens the door and leaves her office, trudging down the hallway without a destination in mind. That is, until the sound of lively chatter reaches her ears, making her pause and look around with a confused expression. She follows the noises, worry and curiosity itching at the back of her mind.
She finds the source on the second-floor terrace and pauses at the entrance, half of her body hidden in the shadows. Her eyes snap over to the unknown women swimming in her pool, the confusion in her mind only doubling. But then she sees you speaking to them casually, a bright smile on your face as you splash water at the women, all of them retaliating back and causing a water fight.
Then, it clicks in her mind. Today is the day her friends were to come over, Bada thinks. She mentally berates herself for forgetting about it—too caught up in her piles of work to remember. Before she can linger on the thought for too long, your friend's chatter dies down into a calm conversation. Bada steps back from the entryway quickly, her back laying flat against wall. She knows she give you your privacy, but despite her better judgment, she stays rooted in her spot, listening.
"This is so nice," Da-Eun mutters with a smile, relaxing so she's floating at the water's surface.
"So," Min-Ji swims closer to you. "What have you been doing all this time?"
"Not much," you admit. "Just... recovering. I had a pretty nasty bruise on my cheek. It just finished healing."
"Just finished healing?" Ryung frowns.
"But that was a while ago..." Jae adds.
"Seong had a heavy hand," you mumble, causing little ripples in the water by swishing your fingers back and forth.
Away from your view, Bada rests her head against the wall, her eyes staring up at the ceiling as images of your injury flash in her mind. She feels a pit form in her stomach at the memory, as well as a fire burning in her veins. Although she knows Seong is already long dead, it doesn’t stop the deep hatred in her heart from festering.
"At least it healed well," Min-Ji nods, pointing her finger at your skin, which is now free of discoloration.
"Yeah," you ghost your fingers across the skin of your left cheek, remembering how swollen it had been, as well as painted with yellow and purple hues.
Jae watches your movements closely, sympathy in her irises until she realizes something, and her eyebrows furrow. "Wait..." She reaches over and grabs your hand, holding it up to the sun. "Where's your ring?"
You give her a confused look. "What ring?"
"Your engagement ring," Jae says, looking at you expectantly.
Bada freezes in her spot, a feeling akin to a cold bucket of water being dumped over her head washing through her body. A ring.
How could she be so stupid? She never presented you with an engagement ring (not to mention she hadn’t bought one in the first place), although you're both several months into your engagement. If her mother were alive, she'd scold her for her lack of manners and for being inconsiderate of your wants—what most women want more than anything—a beautiful and heartfelt piece of jewelry that encapsulates their spouse's devotion and feelings.
"Oh..." you trail off before Jae’s words fully register in your mind. "Oh. I don't have one."
"You don't have an engagement ring?" All the girls blurt out at once, their expressions a mix between shock and horror.
“I guess we never really got around to it.” You stare down at your empty ring finger, not exactly knowing how to feel. You hadn’t even realized that Bada never presented you a ring.
“Never got around to it?” Jae’s mouth drops. “How do you ‘never get around’ to getting your engagement ring?”
“I’m surprised you don’t have a rock the size of Seoul on your finger.” Da-Eun remarks, shaking her head.
“We’ve been very busy–” you try to explain.
“But it’s a ring.” Jae asserts.
You say nothing in response, lips pressing into a line and eyebrows crinkling.
The resounding silence marinating in the air makes Bada’s stomach drop. You must think of her as an inconsiderate fiancée.
She berates herself in her mind as she speed-walks away, determined to make up for her oversight.
She’ll find you a ring befitting of your beauty.
Bada quickly realizes that finding the perfect engagement ring for you is more challenging than she initially thought. She's scrolled through countless websites of high-end jewelers, observing the sparkle of gold, white gold, silver – every type of finery imaginable. However, every ring she inspects falls short.
"Too gaudy," she thinks as she scans a ring with a disproportionately large diamond and a small band. "Too simple," her eyes scrutinize another ring, containing the smallest diamond she’s ever seen, with an equally bland and thin band.
In frustration, Bada pushes away her laptop, pulling her glasses onto her head and rubbing her eyes. "Why are engagement rings so hit or miss?" she asks the open air, as if expecting an answer.
Funnily enough, she does get a response. "Engagement rings?" Tatter steps into Bada’s office, carrying a large stack of paperwork.
"Tatter, if you are about to hand me another day’s work of documents, I might just lose my mind," Bada groans.
"I’m not handing it to you," Tatter says sheepishly, "I’m placing it on your desk."
Bada only groans louder, dropping her head onto the desk and lightly banging it against the wood repeatedly. "Boss…" Tatter trails off, grimacing. "You’re making me feel bad."
"Good," Bada huffs. "You should feel bad for me."
"Why are you so stressed out?" Tatter sets the papers down before stepping back.
"The ring," Bada rasps.
"What ring?" Tatter asks, her face skewed up in absolute confusion.
"The engagement ring. The one I never gave to my fiancée."
"You never gave unnie a ring?" Tatter says incredulously.
"No," Bada hollowly laments. "Now I’m trying to find a ring for her, but none of them are suitable."
"Can I see?" Tatter asks, motioning toward her boss’s laptop. Bada pushes her laptop in Tatter’s direction, showing her subordinate the screen. Tatter scans the images of the rings, pressing her lips together in thought. "This one’s nice." She points at a ring with a diamond in the middle, and two smaller diamonds next to it, resting on a thin, gold band.
Bada looks at the ring, her eyebrows furrowing. "I guess. But it’s nothing special. Her ring has to be special–"
"You know, rather than stressing out about it, why don’t you just find out what types of rings she likes?" Tatter cuts her off.
"And how do you suggest I do that?" Bada asks monotonously.
"Reconnaissance," Tatter smirks. "And I know just the perfect people for the job."
Bada picks up her head, staring at her subordinate with a wry expression – not quite sure if she should be worried or relieved.
The following day rolls around, the heat from yesterday having subsided into a comfortable chill.
"Hey kid, are you ready to go?" Hyo steps into your bedroom, her hands in her pockets as she watches you finish getting ready.
"Yes," you nod, voice quiet.
Your bodyguard frowns, stepping forward. "What’s with the sad look?"
You glance at Hyo, shaking your head. "I just have a lot on my mind. Sorry."
"It’s okay." Hyo places her hand on your shoulder. She guides you toward the doorway, but not before discreetly pulling out her phone and snapping a picture of your open jewelry box, your rings on full display.
"Why are we going out again?" You look back at Hyo, a dazed look on your face.
"You said you wanted to go for a walk and see the shops, remember?" She reminds you, tucking her phone back into her pocket.
"Oh, right." You nod, perking up a bit. "My mother asked me to pick up something for her at a store."
"Why doesn’t she pick it up herself?" Hyo steps up behind you, following as you begin your strides down the hallway and toward the spiral staircase leading to the first level.
"She’s packing for a trip." You sigh, "Can’t be bothered to leave her home for a second to pick up her designer dress."
"If you’ll let me speak a bit out of line…" Hyo trails off, her words pitching upward in a half-question.
"Yes, of course." You answer quickly. "We’re friends."
"...Your mother is quite the character." Your bodyguard asserts while digging out her phone from her pocket. She unlocks it while staying behind you and out of your line of sight, opening the picture she took of your jewelry box and sending it to Lusher.
She quickly types out, “Here it is,” with the picture attached to the message.
Seconds later, a gray bubble pops up, and Lusher responds. "Great, thanks!"
Hyo hastily sends another message, “We’d better get the ring ASAP. She’s been acting sad since yesterday…”
This time Lusher takes a few more minutes to respond, "Got it. Also, make sure to bring her to the right stores. Boss and I will be right behind you, so make sure to keep her distracted as much as possible."
Hyo texts back a thumbs-up emoji before closing her phone.
"Character is an understatement." Your voice makes Hyo straighten up immediately.
"That’s the kindest way of expressing what I think about your mother. You are my boss, after all." Hyo points out, shoving her hands into her pockets causally.
"I’m not your boss." You say, turning back to glance at her with furrowed eyebrows. "Bada is."
"She’s ‘the Boss,’ but you’re my boss," Hyo explains. "She’s my employer, but my job is to watch over you when she can’t. You’re my superior."
"I don’t like how that sounds." You frown. "Can’t we just consider each other friends rather than deal with the semantics of superiors and subordinates?"
"If that would make you more comfortable." Hyo shrugs. “Anyway, what’s your mother packing for?”
"Her annual trip to Calivigny Island with my father," you sigh.
"Ah, in the Caribbean," your bodyguard whistles. "A private, luxury island that only accommodates fifty guests at a time."
"She usually travels during the summer, but she missed the trip earlier because she and my father were finalizing the deal between Bada and my proposal."
"Tragic," Hyo remarks sarcastically.
"Isn’t it?" you respond, a smile quirking up your lips as you finally reach the stairs and begin heading downwards. You quickly venture down them and out of the Lee mansion while Hyo heads to the garage, taking out your usual black sports car and parking it in front of the perron steps for you. She helps you in, closing the door behind you before pulling out of the driveway of the mansion and heading out of the open gates.
The doors of Louis Vuitton glitter in the darkening horizon like a beacon of illumination meant to attract wanderers in the chilly night. And like a moth infatuated with the light, you step in front of the doors, your eyebrows creased together.
“I don’t know why I feel so nervous,” you mutter under your breath.
“Hold your head up high, kid.” Hyo grabs the heavy handle of the door, using her strength to crack it open. “You have more power and influence than anyone inside that store.”
You take in a deep breath and nod, stepping into the store, a small draft of warm air caressing you like a friendly hug. Inside, a whirl of earthy perfume paired with notes of vanilla, makes its way to your senses. All the decorations are painted with a yellow and beige light, the bags hanging from shelves are highlighted like jewels.
And like a newly cut diamond, you remain unseen for only a second before the older jewels notice your radiance, their eyes finding yours instantly. Women and men in their most elegant and finest clothing appraise you, their irises barely swooping over you before they widen to impossible sizes. They start to whisper amongst each other, your appearance surprising them and causing their eyes to glitter with excitement.
You stride forward, remembering Hyo’s advice as you approach a saleswoman–who is notably frozen in her spot when she notices you coming toward them–before someone steps in your path.
A man carrying a tray with a single bottle of sparkling water stands in front of you, his eyes glistening under the light, and a friendly smile stretching across his lips. “Would you like a drink?”
“Oh–” you breathe out, surprised. “Yes, thank you very much.” You take the water bottle, and suddenly the man is out of your view, circling around you and grabbing the coat keeping you slightly hot in the already warm store.
“Allow me to hang your coat,” he mumbles, tucking the tray under his arm as he gently uses his gloved hands to pluck the clothing off of you.
You look back at the man with a slightly dazed expression but smile. “Thank you.”
“It’s my pleasure.” He bows in front of you before exchanging a brief nod with Hyo and stepping back.
You gather your bearings quickly and walk up to the saleswoman, slightly clearing your throat as you hear the giddy whispering from the shoppers increase. “I’m here to pick up an order.”
The saleswoman seems to have gathered herself in the time her co-worker had taken your coat and offered you the sparkling water because now she’s standing straight and has a semi-nervous smile strewn across her lips. “Yes, of course. I can take you to a private room if you’d like.” She gestures to a room concealed by a curtain carrying the “LV” logo.
“Oh no, that’s alright,” you wave a hand in dismissal. “I’m just here to pick up an order, I won’t be staying long.”
“Please, it might take a while for us to find the order.” The saleswoman insists. “You can relax and enjoy some refreshments while we fetch it.”
You glance at Hyo from your peripheral, who looks like she’s trying her hardest to hold in a laugh. Internally rolling your eyes at her, you nod at the saleswoman. “Alright. Thank you.”
“This way, please,” she guides you toward the secluded room, holding back the curtains for you and Hyo to step in.
Inside, there is a glass coffee table, a large ceramic vase sitting at the center of it with white club chairs circling it. Behind, there is a lit wall with water beading down it, and a large mirror across from it.
You move to sit in the chair, but Hyo’s fast, pulling out your seat for you, an amused smile still stretched on her lips. You give her a light glare but mumble a “thank you” nonetheless.
The saleswoman, who’d stepped out for a second without you even realizing it, emerges again, though this time she’s carrying a golden tray like the man from before with refreshments and towels.
“Would you like a hot towel?” She holds it out for you using prongs.
“Sure.” You say hesitantly, grabbing the towel and feeling its warmth awaken your (somehow still) cold fingers.
The woman sets down the tray on the coffee table, presenting you with small cakes and snacks. “Please, take whatever you’d like, and let me know if you need anything else.”
You nod back, glancing at the delicious slices of cake with an edacious stare.
“And what name would your order be under?” The saleswoman asks.
You mutter your mother’s name, and the worker quickly nods, bows, then leaves the room. The second she’s out of sight, you hear a chuckle come from behind you, causing you to whip your head around with a glare.
Hyo covers her mouth with her hand, as she laughs.
“You’re evil, you know that?” You huff.
“Sorry, it’s really just so funny.” Hyo can’t hold back her laughter anymore, essentially all-out laughing at you. “You looked like a deer in headlights.”
“Because I was!” You exclaim. “I just wanted to pick up my mother’s order; why are they doing all this?” You gesture to the room in front of you.
“I told you,” Hyo briefly takes off her sunglasses to wipe away the small tears of laughter from the corner of her eyes. “You have more power than anyone in here. Of course they’re going to be kiss-ups.”
You sigh loudly, sitting back in your chair. “One order, that’s all I wanted… now I feel like they’re going to make me stay longer.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised.” Hyo agrees. “Just say in the nicest way possible that you want to leave, and they’ll let you.”
“You know, the least you could do is help me out.” You scoff lightheartedly. “I’m still new to this stuff.”
“I could do that…” Hyo nods while trailing off. “Or I could watch you struggle. It’s much funnier.” She bursts into a small chuckle at the end of the sentence.
“I hate you.” You groan.
“Oh come on, lighten up.” Hyo finally stops laughing, but her smile never leaves her. “Why don’t you try some of the snacks she gave you?”
You perk up at the thought, casting your eyes back on the tea cakes and tiny, but expensive-looking foods. You pick up what looks like a small slice of strawberry shortcake and eat it, the creamy filling and delicious jam making you smile widely. When you finish chewing–it takes less than a minute–you hold up the tray for Hyo to see. “Do you want some?”
“Nah, I’m good.” She shakes her head.
You move to place the tray down before she suddenly speaks again.
“Wait. Is there any chocolate cake…?”
Your trip to Louis Vuitton ended up yielding many revelations. Number one, Louis Vuitton has to be the worst case of sucking up that you’ve ever seen or experienced, and number two, Hyo is absolutely obsessed with anything chocolate flavored.
“How many free products do you think are in those bags?” You turn to look back at Hyo, who’s juggling three large Louis Vuitton bags in her arms–one of them your mother’s order and the rest filled with gifts–while trying to take a bite of the chocolate decorations she’d taken off of a cake.
“Too many to count.” She says, voice slightly muffled by the food in her mouth.
You laugh before turning back and walking down the sidewalk, passing by other high-end stores. You continue walking for a long stretch until you register the sound of heavy footsteps not too far away from you. You furrow your eyebrows; Hyo never walks with a heavy step.
You pause, “Hyo, what’s that sound?”
“What sound?” Hyo stops as well.
“Footsteps…” you trail off, looking from your left to your right, then behind. You don’t see anyone else trailing after you, your confusion doubling. Perhaps it was just your paranoia manifesting into phantom noises.
Hyo immediately snaps into professional mode, looking back as well. She reaches under her suit and feels for her gun holster, stepping forward. “Stay back a little, I’m going to check it out.” She advances quickly, her eyes scanning the area with calculating expertise.
When she reaches the corner of a store and an alleyway, she quickly turns into it, her gun held up.
Through the darkness of the night, Hyo is just barely able to make out the shocked faces of her Boss, and Lusher crouched next to the side of the building. “Boss?” Hyo whispers loudly, looking between Bada and Lusher.
“What are you doing?” Lusher whisper-yells back. “You’re supposed to be taking unnie into a jewelry store!”
“I would be if you weren’t stomping your feet behind us so loudly!” Hyo shoots back, lightly glaring at her friend.
“Yah, I told you to be quieter.” Bada scolds Lusher, nudging her arm. “You walk like you’re carrying one hundred pounds of extra weight.”
“Why are you two ganging up on me?” Lusher whines. “I’ll try to be more quiet–”
“Hyo?” Your voice breaks through the chilly night air, causing the three women to stiffen up. “Is everything alright?”
“Yup, yes!” Hyo steps out of the alleyway with a forced smile, giving you a thumbs-up. “Everything’s perfect! It was just some drunk stumbling around.”
You give Hyo a hesitant look before nodding and turning to stare at the passersby across the street.
She quickly ducks back into the alleyway, tucking her gun back into its holster. “Lusher, if you want to keep following us, either lighten your step or stay farther back.”
“Okay, I will.” Lusher pouts, receiving another nudge from Bada.
Your fiancée looks Hyo up and down, noticing the Louis Vuitton bags hanging from her arms. “You’re carrying her bags. Good.”
Hyo smiles widely. “Thanks, Boss.”
“Did the trip go smoothly?”
“Yes, she was a bit out of her depth at first, but she handled all the attention well,” Hyo reports back like a proud sister.
Bada smiles to herself, thinking about you awkwardly speaking to the workers in the Louis Vuitton store, not used to being attended to like a high-ranking socialite. Everything you do is endearing to her–she only wishes she was there to see you sparkling amongst snobbish shoppers. “That’s my girl.” She whispers to herself.
Hyo and Lusher barely catch what Bada said, but in response, they both look at each other knowingly and smile.
“Alright, don’t keep her waiting.” Bada cuts in, shifting her demeanor back to cold. “And make sure she stays warm.”
“Yes, Boss.” Hyo nods then steps out of the alleyway, approaching you with fast strides. “Sorry, I took so long.”
“It’s alright.” You shrug. “I was just doing some people-watching while I waited.”
“Right, well, the car is this way.” Hyo motions forward, only briefly glancing back to see Lusher and Bada’s head peeking out from the corner of the store.
You walk forward without a second thought, your head up in the clouds as you take in the beautiful starry sky, and the cloud of perspiration released when you exhale into the icy air. You walk in silence for the length of a block before Hyo breaks the silence.
“Oh, look, a jewelry store.” She tries to say casually as she stops right in front of it. “All of the pieces are beautiful.”
You pause where you stand, turning to face the store, a pit in your stomach growing. Your bodyguard is right, all the jewelry is beautiful. From teardrop diamond earrings to pearl necklaces and dainty bracelets.
But all you can look at are the rings.
The sign above them reads, “Two hearts, one love, forever in your ring.” You turn away from the store, a lump in your throat and a frown on your lips. Clearing your throat, you mumble. “Should we keep walking toward the car?”
Hyo glances to her right again, seeing Bada and Lusher motioning frantically at her to get you to go inside. “Uhhm, don’t you want to look at the pretty jewelry? Maybe pick something up for yourself?” She suggests.
“No–” You begin, but are cut off by a loud sound.
“Ow!” Lusher’s voice rings from behind the store, her hand rubbing at her foot. “You stepped on me–”
Bada slaps her hand over Lusher’s mouth, her eyes wide and her pointer finger coming up to make a “shush” motion. Lusher immediately calms down, suddenly realizing her mistake and wearing a mortified expression.
“What was that?” You take a step forward, about to head toward the sound before Hyo stands in your way.
“Probably just another drunk.” She says quickly. “No need to worry.”
You try to look over her shoulder, but she carefully pushes you forward and in the direction of the jewelry store. “Okay…”
“Well why don’t we go inside the jewelry store–”
“Actually, can we go home?” You ask, avoiding eye contact with the store and stepping back.
Hyo’s smile starts to twitch. “Come on, maybe just a peek–”
“Please.” You interrupt quietly, looking down at the floor.
Hyo sees out of her peripheral that Bada’s shaking her head and frowning, so she sighs and nods. “Alright, let’s go home.”
You turn and walk away quickly, eager to escape the thoughts plaguing your mind. Your bodyguard follows after you, having failed her mission terribly. Behind you, both Lusher and Bada step onto the sidewalk, the subordinate clutching her head in distress.
“She didn’t even look at the rings!” Lusher exclaims, deflated and looking dejected.
Bada remains quiet, watching you walk down the street, the wind whipping her coat around. “Something’s wrong.”
“Yeah, clearly! We’ll never find a ring for her at this rate,” Lusher says, expressing her frustration.
“No, I mean,” Bada pauses, placing her hand over the right side of her chest. “My heart. It hurts when I see her sad.”
Lusher stops whining, facing her boss with a caring expression. “What does it feel like?”
“It feels like I’m getting stabbed,” Bada admits, her face scrunching up in confusion and pain. “I want to rip my heart out and give it to her. I want to do everything in my power to make her smile when she frowns like that.”
Lusher lets out a deep sigh, sympathizing with her friend. “Oh, Bada…”
“I felt like this when she was taken by Seong,” Bada whispers. “But back then, I thought it was because I was worried about bringing her home safe.” She turns to face her subordinate, clutching her chest tightly. “Why do I feel like this?”
Lusher smiles sadly at her friend. “You’re in love.”
“...In love?”
Love was not the answer, she concluded. No, love could never be the answer. Since you first arrived at her home, Bada made it clear to you that she’d never fall in love with you. So the mental and emotional anguish she’s been feeling for the past few days must have been due to the stress of her work… right?
Either way, whether it was unconsciously or consciously at first, Bada started to avoid you. She found that seeing you less would make the stabbing pain in her heart subside, and even if it didn’t fully fade away, throwing herself into her work was a perfect distraction.
But it wasn’t easy. Obviously, you began to notice that your already few-and-far-between visits from Bada became essentially nonexistent. So naturally, you started to make an effort to see her. You tried to bring her breakfast in the morning like you had during your first month in the Lee mansion but hit a wall.
“The Boss will be taking her breakfast alone from now on,” Lusher informs you, trying to hold back her frown when she sees the excitement in your eyes dim, and how you practically wilt.
“How long?” You whisper.
“For the foreseeable future,” Lusher says through gritted teeth. It’s taking everything in her to not just let you into Bada’s office. But at the end of the day, nothing is stronger than Bebe’s loyalty.
“Oh,” you take a step back, trying to wear a friendly smile but failing. “I’ll come see her later, then.”
Lusher hesitates. “Not to speak out of line, unnie…”
You perk up, looking into her eyes.
“But I think it’s best for your emotional state if you keep your distance,” she advises you, her tone gentle and full of care.
But of course, being the determined and stubborn woman you are, you don’t heed Lusher’s words… to your detriment.
After days of only traveling between her office and her bedroom, Bada finally emerges from her work, having signed and looked over all the documents she’d been given for the week. In her desperation for a change in scenery, she left her office, completely forgetting why she’d been hiding away in the first place.
“Bada!” You call from behind her, a smile stretching across your lips.
The sound of your voice makes Bada freeze. The pain in her heart spikes, and a wave of regret flows through her. She doesn’t respond to you but stays rooted in her spot.
You run to your fiancée’s side, making quick eye contact with her. But the look she wears surprises you. Her dark brown, almost gray irises stare back at you like an impenetrable stone wall, hiding away any emotion she may be feeling.
For the first time in her life, Bada feels like she’s able to successfully hide her emotions. Because hearing your voice and seeing you makes every fiber of her body come to life. Perhaps it's because it’s been so long since she’s seen you.
The days she’d spent locked inside her office or bedroom made the sight of you even more irresistible. Your eyes, which she hadn’t met in what felt like decades shine under the light with an endearing gleam. Your body, which she hadn’t touched makes her fingers twitch, every digit aching to caress any and all of your flesh. Your lips…
Bada has to use all her willpower to stop herself from wrapping her arms around you and kissing you. The yearning her body has to embrace you and touch you drives her mad.
“Lusher was right.” Is all she can think.
…The realization disgusts her.
How could she be so selfish? How could she fall in love with you knowing full well all the torment and danger her feelings will bring you? How could she allow herself to fall victim to your every smile and caring saccharine phrases? How could she when she knows that she may end up laying in the street, sobbing, holding your cold body in her arms while you stare up at her, the light gone from your eyes, and crimson falling from your chest?
Your smile starts to slowly wither, a slightly timid expression encompassing your face. “Bada?” You mumble. “You finally came out of your office.”
A deathly silence echoes in the hallway, not a sound leaving Bada’s lips. She only moves her gaze away from you, instead staring straight in front of her.
“Uhm, I was going to ask you if we could maybe spend some time together?” Your voice comes out low, nervous, and like you’re unsure of yourself.
Again, that nasty tugging on Bada’s heart hits her, but this time she reacts to it by closing her eyes and breathing out through her nose. For her, it’s a method of calming herself down.
But to you, it relays a sense of annoyance you assume she’s feeling.
Once again she doesn’t answer you, making you shift uncomfortably in your spot. You stare at her with pleading eyes, begging her to say anything to you. Even just letting you know that she’s listening to you, and not acting like you’re a pesky fly on the wall, buzzing in her ear.
“I have work to do.” Finally, when she speaks, her tone is clipped, and full of ice.
You physically react, your limbs shaking at her phantom frost. Before you can even open your mouth again, Bada turns and walks in the opposite direction towards her office.
You’re left in the hallway, stunned and wondering if Bada was aware of the trail of heartbreak she’d left in her wake.
And yet despite everything, you keep trying to get through to Bada.
You try because you care. You try because no matter how hard you remind yourself that your union to her was just business, you can’t stop yourself from falling in love with her.
She saved you from your parents, after all. She gave you a home that you could call yours–she introduced you to the Bebe girls, who you now considered your close friends. She brought you into a world of glitz and glamor, while still protecting you and watching over you with the utmost care.
How could you not fall in love with her?
So, with a world of fluttering butterflies nesting in the depths of your stomach, you take in a deep breath and knock on her office door. When you pull your fist away from the wood, you’re met with an uncomfortable silence. Swaying nervously, you play with your fingers, waiting another minute before mustering the courage to knock again.
This time, a small sound emanates from inside, perhaps a loud inhalation or the sound of an annoyed breath. Your stomach turns at the thought.
When you withdraw your fist from the wood, an uncomfortable silence engulfs the space. Swaying nervously, you toy with your fingers, mustering the courage to knock again after waiting another minute.
This time, a faint sound emanates from within, perhaps a pronounced inhalation or an exasperated breath. Your stomach churns at the notion.
"Who is it?" Bada's frosty voice compels you to stand tall, the butterflies in your belly fluttering wildly, creating a tempest.
“It’s me,” you speak cautiously.
For what feels like the millionth time, a hush falls between you and Bada.
“...I’m busy,” is all she utters in response.
You close your eyes and gulp, uncertain of your next move. On one hand, you don’t want to disturb Bada, especially when she sounds visibly irritated. On the other hand, the yearning to see your fiancée again is overpowering. Being separated from her renders the hallways of the Lee mansion colder, your life dimmer, and the world slower in its spin.
“Bada…” you trail off, your voice low and caring. “I haven’t spoken to you properly in days.”
This time, there's little dead air before a chair scrapes against the floor, and her footsteps approach the door. Surprised, you take a step back just before she opens the door, keeping it ajar so you can see her but not enter her office.
“I told you, I’m busy,” she says plainly, her gaze avoiding yours.
Your eyebrows furrow as you try to meet her eyes. “You should take a break; you've been working nonstop for days now.”
“I have to,” Bada defends her actions.
“I understand that,” you nod slowly, acknowledging the stress she must be under. “But it’s not good for your health.”
Truthfully, you didn’t want to say it aloud, but Bada looks exhausted. Bags and dark circles under her eyes, absent before, now paint a picture of fatigue. Moreover, the expression she wears hints at an imminent collapse.
“You should take a nap, or if you really don’t want to rest, we can relax and watch this drama together–” you start to grow excited at the idea, a smile forming on your lips.
Meanwhile, Bada confronts a dilemma. She acknowledges her love for you, plain and simple. She wants to eschew work, opting to watch a drama with you, to hold you close and sleep with the comforting weight of your presence. Yet, her mind brands her feelings as selfish, a slow-acting poison disguised in sweet wine—pleasurable until it brings forth your demise.
“You expect too much of me,” Bada says through gritted teeth, spitting the words out with venom that extinguishes the small smile you’d nurtured.
“What?” You breathe, confusion clouding your expression.
“You ask me to spend time with you, you want us to watch a drama together,” she lists. “These affections you are asking of me–” She cuts herself off, shaking her head with a bored expression. “It is inappropriate. We are not a couple.”
In just a few words, Bada annihilates your world. The meticulously crafted memories of your time with your fiancée crumble, collapsing under the weight of her words. "We are not a couple." The phrase echoes in your mind, torturing you until your ears ring.
You visibly flounder, opening and closing your mouth in genuine shock. “Where is this coming from?” You ask incredulously.
“I told you I would not fall in love with you,” Bada argues. “Our union was a tactical business move that benefitted me and your parents, that is all. You are nothing more to me.”
As if your heart could shatter further, it bleeds in your chest, oozes crimson red, and cries out to be spared. For a brief moment, you're left so shell-shocked that you almost lose all sense of self. Rooted in your spot, you stare into Bada’s eyes as every part of your body pulsates with insurmountable pain.
“We don’t act like we’re in a marriage of convenience,” you fight back, words a hushed and hurt whisper.
She doesn’t respond, simply looks ahead, acknowledging the truth. She hasn’t treated you as a friend for months, let alone an acquaintance for longer.
“Bada. Look at me,” you order, your voice gaining slight confidence.
Slowly, Bada shifts her gaze to meet yours. In her dark brown irises, a storm rages—a tempest of unspoken feelings concealed behind a sheet of ice. Staring into Bada’s eyes, you shake your head with a hurt expression. The woman in front of you is unrecognizable. She doesn’t resemble your fiancée and the woman you fell in love with; she's a shadow, an imitation.
"Who are you?" Your eyes question Bada.
“I don’t know,” her eyes confess.
You take a step back from Bada, tears welling in your eyes. “You are cruel, Bada Lee.” Without uttering another word, you turn and rush away, almost colliding with Lusher, standing around the corner with Tatter by her side.
Lusher watches you leave with a disapproving look. She glances at Bada, who stands stock-still, appearing as if she’d been stabbed in the heart.
Her boss makes eye contact with her. “What? Aren’t you going to tell me off?” Bada says harshly.
Lusher only shakes her head disapprovingly, looking away from her friend.
Bada scoffs, clicking her tongue as she brushes past Lusher and Tatter, heading toward the stairs and the door to the Lee mansion.
Tatter takes a step forward, a worried look on her face. “Shouldn’t we go after them?”
Lusher holds her arm out to stop Tatter from walking ahead. “It isn’t our place,” she says softly. “It’s time for Bada to face her past.”
Blown glass casts colored shadows across Bada’s fair skin. Her grim expression contrasts with the bright colors, and the bouquet of sunflowers clutched between her fingers adds a touch of vibrancy. In front of her, a gold placard engraved with her mother’s name stares back at her.
“Hello, mother,” Bada murmurs into the open air. “I’m sorry; it’s been a while since I’ve visited you. I’ve been busy.” She shifts her gaze to the floor. “I met a woman.” She utters your name with reverence, “You would have loved her.”
She closes her eyes, envisioning your lively and beautiful countenance.
“You’ll be surprised to hear that I'm engaged to her now. We are to be wed in December.”
“You are cruel, Bada Lee.” Her mind echoes your words, and she opens her eyes.
“Well, perhaps not anymore,” Bada steps forward, exchanging the wilting flowers beside her mother’s grave with a new bouquet. The bright yellow sunflowers pop next to the gold, infusing the room with more color. “She made me feel strange emotions,” Bada confesses.
She thinks back to the first time she had a proper conversation with you. You’d come into her office and brought her breakfast, standing tall and confident as you poked and prodded, asking questions about her.
“When she’s happy, I’m at peace,” Bada reflects. Her thoughts then shift to Seong. “When she was taken from me, I was infuriated.” Her fingers unconsciously curl into a fist. She places her hand over her heart, feeling it beat wildly against her palm.
Her heart sings for you, no matter where she might be.
“But I know better.” Bada shakes her head. “I know better than to let myself care about her.” She thinks of the way she’d spoken to you an hour prior–how she’d lied to you– “So I hurt her.” She says, her voice low and full of shame. “I said whatever I could think of to make her hate me.”
Outside, the wind whips violently, thrumming against the mausoleum.
“...Because loving me is a death wish.”
13 years ago
A bright-eyed, 15-year-old Bada Lee steps out of her private school, her eyes scanning the myriad of luxury cars to find a silver Ferrari LaFerrari, the hypercar her bodyguard drives. Suddenly, the sound of a loud engine pulls up next to the curb of the school, right in front of where Bada stands.
“Ms. Lee.” Chung-Hee steps out of the car, a pair of black sunglasses covering his eyes. “Are you ready to go home?”
“Yes!” Bada nods excitedly, heading toward Chung-Hee. He quickly moves to grab her backpack before opening the car door, the silver sides of the car shooting up into the air like wings. “Thank you,” Bada says as she piles in, a wide smile on her face.
Chung-Hee simply nods as he sets her backpack in the front passenger seat before sitting in the driver’s spot. He pulls out of the driving lot with ease, heading away from the school. “How was your day today, Ms. Lee?”
“Very good.” Bada nods. “Actually, I was talking to some of my friends…”
“Seoyoung Lee, right?”
“Yes.” Bada smiles. “She and some others were talking about taking some dance classes after school–”
“Ms. Lee…” Chung-Hee sighs. “You are already very busy with your English and piano lessons, not to mention horseback riding and taekwondo–”
“I know that, Chung.” Bada huffs endearingly. “But this is something I really want to do, not just another hobby my father makes me take up so that I can find a husband.”
Chung-Hee lightly drums his fingers against the wheel. “You’ll have to ask both your father and your mother–”
“Yes, I know that.” Bada makes a cheeky expression. “That is why I’m going to speak to my mother right when we arrive home so that she can convince my father.”
“Ah, your mother is not currently home,” Chung-Hee informs her. “She is buying groceries for dinner tonight.”
“Then will you take me to her, please?” Bada begs, pitching her tone upwards.
“I was instructed to take you straight home–”
“Pleaseeee Chung?” Bada continues, staring through the rearview mirror so that her bodyguard can see her properly.
Chung-Hee sighs in defeat. “One of these days you’re going to get me fired.”
Bada squeals in excitement, practically bouncing in her seat. “You know that’s not true. My father considers you a close friend.”
“I guess I am lucky in that regard.” Chung-Hee breathes.
“Well, anyway…” Bada sits back, her smile never dimming. “How is your daughter, Chung?”
Immediately, Chung-Hee sits up in his seat, a bright grin overtaking his lips. “She’s great, thank you for asking. And she’s doing wonderfully in school.”
“You must be proud of her then.”
“Yes, I am,” Chung-Hee says fondly. “She’s so intelligent, it blows my mind.”
Bada smiles sadly as she nods.
“And she looks up to me. Says she wants to be just like me when she’s older.”
“She sounds wonderful, Chung,” Bada whispers.
The rest of the car ride continues in a comfortable silence, although Bada shifts her gaze to stare out of the window. She counts every passing minute, becoming more and more restless to see her mother.
Finally, the car eventually slows down across the street from a grocery store. Bada starts to grin, practically buzzing in her seat. Sensing her excitement, Chung-Hee parks the car and quickly exits, opening the door, only for Bada to practically shoot out of the car and rush over to the grocery store.
Chung-Hee only sighs. “Yah, one day she really is going to get me fired.”
Inside the grocery store, Bada barely pays attention to the way the shoppers gape at her, only intent on finding her mother. She uses her long legs to quickly make her way through the aisles until she spots a familiar head of hair near the fresh produce. Bada makes her way over to her mother, calling out to her.
“Mother!” She says, only a few feet away.
Bada’s mother immediately turns around, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion until she spots her daughter rushing toward her. “Bada?” She responds, a smile growing on her lips. “What are you doing here?”
Bada stops right in front of her mother, throwing her arms around her in a hug that the older woman immediately reciprocates. “Chung-Hee told me you weren’t home, so I asked him to drive me here.”
“And where is he now?” Bada’s mother scans the store, searching for a tall man wearing sunglasses.
“Oh…” Bada unwarps herself from her mother and then turns to look behind her, only now noticing her bodyguard is nowhere to be seen. “I must have left him behind.”
Her mother sighs and shakes her head disapprovingly. “Where are your manners, Bada? You have that poor man running after you all day.”
“Sorry,” Bada mumbles out half-sincerely. Her mother glances at her before gently patting her back, prompting her to continue walking. “Are you done shopping?”
“Yes, I have everything I need to make dinner tonight.” Her mother smiles.
“Why do you come to grocery stores anyway?” Bada asks. “The staff bring in fresh ingredients and foods every day.”
“They do, and while I appreciate all they do for us,” her mother walks over to the cash register, placing her groceries on the counter. “It’s important to never become lazy. As your mother and the woman of the house, it’s my responsibility to prepare you and your father’s dinner, even occasionally.”
Bada listens to her mother’s words carefully, nodding along in agreement. She watches her mother hand over a heavy golden credit card to the cashier, who is about to refuse the payment, but her mother’s bright smile and persistence makes him give in and take the card, charging her for the food.
“Besides, the staff deserve to rest every once and a while, don’t you think?” Bada’s mother continues.
“Yeah.” Bada remains in awe of her mother’s humility and kindness.
“What made you so eager to see me that you came all the way here, by the way?” She asks her daughter, helping the worker bag her groceries, despite his insistence that he should do it himself.
“Ah,” Bada suddenly smiles nervously, grabbing two of the heaviest bags to help her mother carry out of the grocery store. “Do you remember my friend Seoyoung?”
“Of course I do, she’s your oldest friend, isn’t she?”
Bada nods. “Well she and some of my other friends wanted to take some dance classes after school, and maybe join a dance club afterward–”
“I see.” Her mother nods. “So you came to ask me to convince your father to let you, is that right?”
Bada stares at her mother with a sheepish expression. “Yes.”
“I don’t know, Bada. Won’t you be much too tired after school? And don’t forget you have piano lessons right after–”
“I promise I can handle it.” She says with conviction. “I’ll do all my lessons and taekwondo every day even after dance.”
“You’ll be exhausted–”
“I won't,” Bada argues with a small pout. “Please, mother: I think dance is something I could be very good at.”
The older woman pauses, turning to look into her daughter’s eyes. She sees them shine with confidence and pure hope, which makes her smile. “Okay,” she nods. “I’ll speak to your father about it.”
“Yes!” Bada cheers, side-hugging her mother the best she can with her hands preoccupied. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
The older woman laughs, leaning into her daughter’s side. “Of course. If dancing is something you think you’ll enjoy, then I fully support you trying it out.”
That evening, under the warm Seoul sun, Bada experiences her last moments of pure happiness, unencumbered by worries or fear. She simply laughs with her mother, her heart bursting at the seams with love for the woman who cared for and nurtured her.
Her happiness blinds her to the moving figure across the street.
Ji-ah, Bada’s mother’s bodyguard has his head down as he crosses the street. Her mother smiles at him, greeting him again with a wave. But her eyes catch something, a glint of silver clutched in his right hand and almost completely concealed from her by his suit jacket. Her smile fades, confusion stretching across her face until she spots another man peering from the corner of a building, a nasty smirk on his face.
A blur of motion crosses Bada’s eyes before a loud popping sound fills the air.
The neighborhood falls into silence after, Bada jolting at the noise in shock. She looks around the street blearily, her mind still trying to catch up as her ears ring.
“Mo–” Before Bada can call out to her, the body of her mother falls into hers. They collapse in the street, grocery bags broken and food spilling out onto the concrete as Bada lets out a small huff of pain and surprise. She looks down, finding her mother splayed across her lap, a gunshot wound in her chest. “M-Mother?” Bada stutters in shock, her eyes growing wide in horror as she wraps her arms around her mother’s body.
In her daughter’s lap, Mrs. Lee breathes heavily, her eyes glazing over as pools of crimson fall from her chest, staining Bada’s hands bright red.
“No, no, no.” Bada breathes, placing her hand against her mother’s wound. “Ma… ma please stay awake.” She pleads, tears beginning to fall from her eyes as her heart pounds in her chest, a stabbing pain puncturing the organ.
“Are you hurt?” Her mother barely manages to choke out, raising her pale hand to clutch the side of her daughter’s face.
“No.” Bada shakes her head, now fully sobbing.
A few feet away, Chung-Hee finally arrivies near the grocery store, having been held back by a group of men. He recognised them to be lackeys of a rival of Mr. Lee, and swung before they got the jump on him. He managed to beat them all to a pulp before rushing down the street, his mind racing with thoughts of Mrs. Lee and Bada being in potential danger.
Before he could make it to them he spots Ji-ah brandishing a gun, and holding it up in their direction. He fires without a second thought, hitting Mrs. Lee.
Chung-Hee pulls out his gun quickly, shooting at Ji-ah across the street. He manages to hit him in the chest, then quickly fires again, emptying five more rounds into the traitor before Ji-ah falls to the concrete, dead.
Bada, unable to focus on the chaos around her only stares at her mother while sobbing, rocking back and forth. “Umma,” she cries, “Umma please, stay awake!”
Mrs. Lee only smiles, brushing her thumb against her daughter’s cheek. “You are beautiful.” She utters, her eyes filled with pure love and adoration. “I could not have asked for a kinder, gentler daughter.”
“Umma,” Bada closes her eyes, shaking her head as her tears grow hot, their salty liquid burning her cheeks.
“I love you.” Mrs. Lee whispers.
With the last of her strength gone, her eyes glaze over and her hand falls away from Bada’s cheek, hitting the concrete with a thud.
“No, umma!” Bada practically screams, clutching her mother’s body close to her chest as her frame starts to physically shake. “I love you too, please don’t leave me! Please, umma!”
Chung-Hee rushes over to Bada’s side, trying to separate her from her mother’s dead body. Bada only shoves him away, her eyes full of pure sorrow.
The sound of fast-approaching cars–her father’s men– just barely registers in Bada’s mind, reminding her of the shooter.
Bada shifts her gaze to the dead body across the street, her eyes going ice-cold at the sight of Ji-ah sprawled across the concrete.
Poison.
“Would you hate me for what I’ve done?” Bada speaks to her mother’s headstone. “For pushing her away?”
The wind thrashes against the windows.
“Because I do.” Bada admits.
The sunflowers next to her mother’s headstone quiver withthe breeze.
“I don’t know what to do with myself.” Bada places her hands over her eyes, feeling tears build inside them. “I should be happy that she hates me. I should be happy that she’ll stay away from me and be safe, but–”
The tears she’s been holding in finally break through. For what feels like the first time in 13 years, Bada Lee cries.
“I hate myself. I want to tear myself apart for all the things I said to her.” She confesses, sobbing. “I love her. I love her more than anything.”
The sunflowers shake.
“I want to be with her. I want to tell her that I love her. I want to spend the rest of my life with her.” Bada’s heart races in her chest as she heaves. She tears her hands away from her face so she can see her mother’s headstone. “I wish you were here to guide me–to tell me what to do–”
Suddenly, the violent winds from outside cause the door to the mausoleum to whip open, the strong breeze blows past Bada, swiping the tears from her cheeks and rushing toward the sunflowers. The sheer force of the wind sends flower petals into the air, making Bada stare up at them in shock.
Then, a memory comes rushing back to the forefront of her mind.
22 years ago
Six year old Bada races through the garden next to her father’s office, giggling at the small birds nesting in a tree above her. She tries to reach for them–but although being very tall for her age–she can’t touch the branch they reside on.
Bada tries to stretch her legs even further, standing on her tippytoes as she reaches her arms up–but she immediately loses her balance, making her wobble until she falls back.
Unfortunately, Bada’s excitement made her blind to the fact that just behind her lied a bushel of roses, their thorns giving her a painful greeting as her back and arms get caught on the spikes.
“Ouch!” She hisses, quickly removing herself from the flowers. She now has a few cuts and scrapes littering her arms, which makes tears rush to her eyes. She starts to sniffle, about to begin crying–
“Bada.” The sound of her mom’s voice distracts her, making the young girl look up.
“Umma.” Bada says tearrily.
“What happened?” Mrs. Lee rushes over to her daughter’s side, her eyes filled with worry as they take in the small cuts all over her arms.
“I fell into the–the thorns.” Bada hiccups, pointing at the offending flowers.
“Bada, I told you not to play near the roses.” Her mother softly scolds her, gently picking her daughter up and placing her in her lap.
“I’m sorry umma.” Bada sniffles, wiping her tears away with the palm of her hands.
“It’s alright, sweetheart.” Mrs. Lee looks over her daughter’s injuries. “Thankfull, none of the cuts are too deep, but I’ll clean them–”
Bada, now much less emotional, shifts her attention away from her mother, instead staring up to find the birds in the tree above them. They rub their beaks and heads against each other, their eyes closed as they rest in their nest.
“Umma.” Bada suddenly interrupts her mother.
Mrs. Lee pauses, noticing her daughter is looking upward, and glances up as well. “Yes?”
“What does being in love feel like?”
Her mother looks down at her in surprise, a small smile growing on her lips. “Why do you ask?”
Bada looks away from the birds and at her feet instead. “Some of my friends were talking about love because Valentine’s Day is coming up. They said we should give chocolates to boys we love.”
Mrs. Lee’s smile widens, “Ah, I see.”
“But I don’t feel anything when I think about the boys in my class.” Bada mumbles. “So I want to know what I should be feeling.”
Mrs. Lee caresses the top of her daughter’s hair, completely endeared by the young girl. “You’re still young, Bada. You might not feel such strong emotions yet.”
Bada looks up at her mother, her eyes wide and pleading.
Mrs. Lee sighs, then nods. “Alright.” She moves her daughter around in her lap so she’s facing her. “When you’re in love, all you can think about is your partner. You wake up in the morning and your mind instantly goes to them. ‘What are they doing right now?’ ‘Have they eaten breakfast yet?’ ‘Did they sleep well?’” Bada’s mother mumbles. “When you’re with them, you smile very wide.” She reaches over to pinch her daughter’s cheeks, stretching her lips into a smile. Young Bada giggles at the action, her lips easily forming a grin.
Her mother laughs along with her, removing her hands from her daughter’s cheeks.
“And when you’re away from them, you’re very sad.” She makes a small frown, which Bada mimics cutely. “You want to be with them every waking moment.”
Bada glances down at her lap, her eyebrows furrowing. “And what if I can’t tell if I’m in love or not?”
“Oh, you’ll know.” Mrs. Lee nods.
“How?” Bada pouts.
Her mother thinks for a moment before smiling. She grabs her daughter’s arms and slowly starts to place kisses on her small cuts. Bada looks at her mother in surprise, a few giggles slipping from her lips at the action.
“You'll realize you're in love when you see your partner hurt, and all you want to do is make them feel better,” her mother mumbles. “You wish you had magical powers to heal all their wounds–” She places a kiss on Bada’s last cut. “So, you end up kissing every injury to help them heal.”
Bada breathes in wonder, her eyes glittering under the sunlight. “Is that why appa always gives you a kiss when you get hurt?”
“Yes.” Mrs. Lee nods, grinning widely. “He helps me get better, and it’s his way of telling me he loves me.”
“But what if one day you get really hurt, and appa isn’t there to give you a kiss?” Bada asks. “Will you not heal?”
“In that case, I’ll have to be strong and get better on my own.” Her mother whispers softly. “Although I wish I could, I can’t always rely on your father to take care of me. I need to be independent as well.”
“I think I know what it means to be in love now.” Bada smiles. “I’m excited to fall in love!”
Mrs. Lee laughs warmly. “That’s good, sweetheart. You should be very excited to find someone who will also kiss your wounds.” Together, mother and daughter sit in the garden, their heads and hearts filled with love.
A strong breeze suddenly whips around them, plucking a few sunflower petals from the bushel next to the roses. They dance and flutter in the air, making both Bada and her mother stare up at them in amazement.
As yellow sunflower petals fall onto the mausoleum floor, Bada smiles widely. She closes her eyes and nods. “I understand now, mother.” Opening her eyes, she glances at her mother’s headstone. “I know what I must do.”
She says one final goodbye to the resting place of her mother before racing out of the private cemetery, and toward her Porsche 918 Spyder. She’s about to pull out of the parking lot when her eyes catch a store across the street. She freezes in her spot, mesmerized.
There, on display, a misty gem sat atop a golden band surrounded by small diamonds, with flower-shaped gold holding onto the gem. It’s a unique, but beautiful ring.
“Perfect.” Bada breathes.
Arriving back at the Lee mansion, a cloud of sorrow and heartbreak fills the halls. Bada winces as she trudges up the stairs, guilt causing her throat to close up. Her feet take a mind of their own, leading her on autopilot to the place where she longs to be most, with you.
Bada stares at the wood of your door, suddenly feeling immensely nervous. She wonders if you’d felt this way when you bravely knocked on her door hours prior.
She raises her fist to knock, her ears just barely picking up the sound of small sniffles behind the door. Her heart screams in her chest.
She waits a few moments with no response before grabbing onto the doorknob, and twisting it open. Bada steps into your room hesitantly, her eyebrows furrowing at what she sees.
You’re sitting in your bed, your hands covering your eyes as you silently weep into them. Lusher sits beside you, rubbing your back soothingly as she tries to calm you. She looks up at the sound of Bada coming in, her eyes moving to Hyo who stands next to the door.
Hyo does nothing, simply glances between you and her boss while gnawing her bottom lip.
Lusher casts her disapproving gaze onto Bada, but her friend quickly shakes her head. Bada steps forward and walks to your side, kneeling next to the bed.
“Hey,” She says to you softly.
You don’t look up at her, only inch closer to Lusher.
Bada closes her eyes and swallows a lump in her throat. “I’m sorry.” She whispers sincerely.
Your cries seem to slowly die down at her words, now becoming small sniffles.
“I’m ready to tell you everything if you’re willing to listen.”
You finally take your hands away from your face to look up at Lusher. She stares back at you and smiles, nodding kindly. You take in a deep breath, “Okay.”
Sand crunches below you, and the sound of ocean waves whipping against each granule soothes your nerves. The night is cold, which makes you regret wearing the beige, glittery dress you’d chosen. You clutch at your arms, feeling goosebumps rise from your skin.
Bada notices you shivering and takes off her black coat. “Here.” She whispers, draping it over your shoulders and rubbing her slim hands up and down your arms to warm you up.
You stare at Bada, hating how your heart leaps in your chest at her tender care. You want to stew in your anger and hurt, but the way she looks at you with so much warmth and regret makes you melt. You’re weak.
Bada, now in a simple black shirt and brown slacks steps back. “Is that better?”
“Yes.” You mumble, looking at the sand pooling under your feet.
Bada nods, breathing out deeply. “Okay.” She looks incredibly nervous in front of you, and you almost want to soothe her worries. “I’m not sure how to start this…” She trails off. “But I want you to know that I’m sorry.”
You look up from the sand to stare into Bada’s eyes.
“The things I said to you were disgusting lies.” She admits, shame encompassing her expression. “You are more to me than just a business deal. You have been from the start.”
In the background, the ocean waves begin to calm.
“I never told you this, but…” She shakes her head, a ghost of a smile on her lips. “the day that we met, I came to talk to your parents to break off the deal.”
Your eyes go wide, and a look of confusion grows on your expression.
“I’d been having second thoughts about our engagement.” She closes her eyes, remembering that day vividly. “I was going to tell them that I wanted to call it off, but then–” her smile turns soft. “You walked in.”
Suddenly, you no longer feel cold, the heat of Bada’s coat and confession making every part of your body burn.
“And you were so beautiful. Like nothing I’d ever seen. So beautiful, and so smart.” She opens her eyes, taking your hands into hers. “I knew then and there that I had to go along with the deal. That I had to make you mine.”
You squeeze Bada’s hands, tears beginning to flow into your eyes.
“But I was terrified. I was so terrified of my feelings.” She starts to tear up as well. “If I were to let you fall in love with me, I would be putting your life at risk. I told myself I was being selfish.”
You want to cut in and deny everything that she says, but you let her talk.
“When my mother died…” Bada chokes on her words–she has to close her eyes and steady her breathing to continue. “She stepped in front of a bullet for me.”
The tears you’d been trying to hold back release, your heart aching in your chest in sympathy for your fiancée.
“Her bodyguard betrayed us... he was aiming to kill me but–” She takes another deep breath. “My mother took the shot.”
“Oh, Bada…” You whisper, throwing your arms around her to pull her into a hug.
Bada breaks down in the comfort of your arms, sobbing violently, and finally releasing 13 years worth of guilt. You hold onto her the entire time, rubbing her back and whispering sweet nothings into her ears.
"I should've been the one to die that day," she cries. "My parents could have had another child—a son. Someone they could be proud to pass on the business to."
“Bada Lee, you are the most hardworking woman I’ve ever met.” You insist. “Your parents would be so proud of what you’ve made of their business.”
Bada tightens her hold on your waist. “I’m sorry.” She slowly unravels herself from you, wiping her tears as she steels herself. “There’s nothing I want more in this world than to wake up next to you every morning. I want to stay by your side for what little time we may have together.”
You bite your lip, trying to stop your sobs from passing beyond your lips.
Bada takes your hand and suddenly starts walking toward a faint light in the distance of the beach. You give her a confused look but follow her anyway until you finally see what she’s bringing you toward.
Rose petals are scattered on the beach sand to create a makeshift walkway, lanterns with burning candles lighting up the sides of it while a small arch in the shape of a heart lies beyond the petals.
You instantly clasp your hands over your mouth, breathing out in shock and awe, turning to face Bada who only smiles at you. She takes both of your hands once again, then slowly starts to lower herself onto the sand, taking one knee in front of you.
“When I look at you, I see my future in your eyes. I know who I am with you.” She places a kiss on your knuckles. “I am selfish. I am a woman who will devote her every waking moment to caring and protecting you.”
She slips her hand into the pocket of her brown slacks and pulls out a black box. You start to openly sob when she opens it and reveals a beautiful engagement ring.
“So, will you allow me to be a selfish woman, and love you until the end of my days?”
“Yes!”
A mess of kisses and wandering hands, you and Bada trail into her private beach house. It’s small but cozy and intimate, exactly what you two need.
Bada guides you in the direction of the master bedroom, never separating from your soft lips. She huffs, her hot breaths caressing your skin as she opens the door and walks toward the bed. It’s decorated in even more rose petals that you crush when she lays you down, and hovers on top of you.
“I’ve said some terrible things to you today,” Bada whispers. “So let me make it up to you.” She places her hand over your right breast, squeezing it and making you moan. “Will you let me?” She asks. “Will you let me…make love to you?”
“Yes.” You breathe. “Yes, Bada.”
Bada smiles, closing her eyes in bliss at the way you alluringly say her name. “I love your voice.” She trails her slim fingers down your body before bringing them up again, and carefully helping you peel your shining dress off your body.
You’re left in your panties and your bra, heaving, passionate breaths making your chest rise and fall in quick succession. Bada stares at your breasts unabashedly before dragging her eyes over every inch of your body. She looks in complete and utter awe, taking in a sharp breath.
“I love your body.” She continues, lowering her hands to your panties, slowly pushing them aside. She finds your pussy glistening with slick, her eyes drinking in the sight with fiery irises. Bada parts your lips, watching carefully as strings of wetness cling to them, revealing your pearly, throbbing clit.
As if in a trance, she brings her thumb up to it, rubbing it up and down with varying degrees of pressure, studying how you cry out in pleasure at each motion.
“Do you like that?” She whispers, staring to trial kisses on your neck and breasts.
“Yes.” You immediately respond, losing yourself in the simple pleasure your faincée gives you. All the months of being untouched have made you so sensitive–so, so sensitive to the point that you’re releasing ridiculous amounts of slick onto Bada’s fingers.
“I want to feel you,” Bada confesses, moving her fingers away from your clit and to your hole. She traces her finger around it before gently inserting one in, your pussy sucking her in without any complaint. “Ah,” she breathes, closing her eyes. “You’re so warm.”
You let out a strangled moan at her words, begging her to continue.
She does as you ask, pushing her finger in deep before dragging it out–again and again she does this, slowly building up her pace until she’s driving her finger into you at an incredible speed. “You’re so warm, honey. So wet.” She repeats, stars in her eyes as she moves to kiss you passionately, all tongue and spit.
“More, please.” You ask again.
“Of course.” She whispers against your lips. Bada takes another finger and inserts it into you, the almost painful but pleasurable stretch makes you cry out, grabbing her unoccupied hand to squeeze it. “There you go.” She says fondly. “Make as much noise as you want to, honey. It’s just us.”
So you let yourself go, practically moaning like a porn star as Bada pounds her fingers into you, your slick sloshing against them and pruning up her digits. She doesn’t seem to care at all, instead changing their position to crook them upwards, dragging them along your walls, indulging you in sexual gratification like you’ve never felt before.
“I want you to cum all over my fingers.” She breathes, the words so heavy you can barely make them out. “Cover me in your juices. Do it.”
Driving her point, Bada lowers her face to your pussy, licking her long tongue against your clit. She flicks it, then takes it into her mouth, swirling her tongue against it.
You immediately cry out in pleasure, your mouth gaping open and eyes closing shut as your fiancée smirks against your clit. She continues her pace, pistoning her fingers in and out of you until she brushes your sweet spot–
“Oh my god!” You scream, your eyes almost rolling back in sheer bliss. “Right there, right there!”
Bada opens her eyes–her lids heavy as makes eye contact with you. “Right here?” She pushes her finger in once again, crooking it up perfectly so that it hits your g-spot perfectly. “Oh yeah, that’s the spot, isn’t it?” She mutters to herself, a proud smile finding her lips.
That, coupled with one long, hard suck and swirl from her tongue on your clit makes your eyes roll back, insurmountable pleasure flowing through you as you cum.
“Soak me.” Bada guides you through it, holding onto your hand tightly to ground you as you embark on a world of bliss, her fingers and mouth never slowing down until you start to whine.
“Please–” you choke out, your pussy sensitive from her touch.
Your fiancée slows her fingers and pops her mouth off your pussy, licking her lips before she fully pulls out her digits from inside of you. When she does, a gush of cum follows in her wake, trailing down and falling onto the linen sheets. She smiles at the sight, lifting her fingers to her mouth and sucking on your juices.
“I love the way you taste.” She separates her fingers to show you the beads of her spit and your slick combined into one debauched substance.
You sit up from bed, crawling over to her with a mischievous look. You grab her hand and bring it up to your lips, sucking on her fingers gently, moving your head up and down in a sensual motion.
“Fuck.” Bada watches you in awe, her cunt pulsing against her boxers and layers of clothes. “How are you so effortlessly alluring?”
You look up at your fiancée, dragging her fingers out of your mouth. “Bada…”
“Yes?” She asks, using her clean hand to brush her thumb over your cheek lovingly.
“Can I touch you too?” You drag your hand down Bada’s chest, stopping just before the waistband of her slacks.
Bada smiles and nods, grabbing your hand and beginning to take off her black shirt. She pulls it off of her body easily, letting it fall to the floor as her hand moves to remove her sports bra as well. You take the time to also remove your bra, now fully exposed while Bada takes off her slacks.
You try your hardest not to stare at her, but with every movement she does, her lean abs move, and her muscled arms strain. Bada Lee has an amazing body, and you can’t help but gape.
Your fiancée, unaware of your stare finally strips herself of her boxers–which she notes are wet with slick–and moves back onto the bed.
“You’re so pretty.” You whisper to her bashfully, moving your fingers up and down her abs.
The action makes Bada release a heavy breath from her nose, your feather-light touch making her abdominals stretch. “Thank you.” She smiles, leaning in to place a warm sweet kiss on your lips.
You break away after a moment, leaning your head down and motioning for Bada to lay back. She does so immediately, encouraging you to do as you please with a hand on the back of your head.
You slowly lower your head so you’re face-to-face with Bada’s cunt. You notice a few beads of wetness fall from her folds, making you smile proudly. She’s just as riled up as you.
Without a second thought, you part her lips like she had yours and place your hot mouth on her cunt, making her hiss. She throws her head back, once again her abs stretching as her long hair falls against her face. “Ah, fuck.”
You move your tongue inside of her, eyes going doe when she stares down at you with burning irises, so full of passion and heat that you unconsciously rub your thighs together, slick building between your legs again.
“You’re so good at that, baby.” Bada moans, grabbing your hair with enough force so that she can move you while still keeping her grip painless. She has to hold herself back–remember that this is about making love not fucking. Her full strength could truly hurt you. “Fuck yeah.” She curses, moving your head up and down as she uses you to pleasure herself.
You slip into a submissive role, allowing Bada to move and use you in any way, happy to bring her the same amount of ecstasy that she’d given you. You move your tongue in and out of her hot, gummy walls, slick running down your chin and the column of your throat until it dribbles in between the valley of your breasts.
Bada watches every movement and groans loudly, turned on out of her mind. She moves your head up and down faster, feeling every drag of your tongue and the pressure of your nose against her clit.
She’s so close, right there–
“Wait–” She breathes, letting go of your head. “Wait.”
You instantly shoot up, worried you’ve done something wrong. “Wha–”
Bada flips your position so you’re below her again. She takes your leg and crooks it against her hip, placing her cunt just inches away from your pussy. “I want to cum with you.” She heaves.
You stare up at your fiancée, your heart swelling in your chest to the point you’re worried it’ll burst. You grab her unoccupied hand and nod, smiling sweetly at her.
She smiles back, running her thumb over the engagement ring resting on your ring finger. She places a kiss on it before she uses her strength to lift herself up, and slowly lower her pussy against yours. She lets out another kiss, her cunt still sensitive from her almost release just minutes prior.
She starts out slow, rubbing up and down and positioning herself so that her lips meet the parting of yours. She encourages you to move with her, using her grip on your thigh to help you gain a rhythm in rubbing yourself against her.
You’re both so wet that loud squelching noises fill the air, your skin parting with strings of juices touching each other’s skin lewdly. Bada then starts to speed up her pace, rubbing up against your pussy as she sighs blissfully. She drags her hand up to your breast, grabs your nipple between her fingers, and starts to rub.
You let out a small moan which makes your fiancée twist your nipple with a bit more force, and then angle down enough so that she can flick her tongue against it. She takes your breast into her mouth, sucking rather harshly to pull out a louder moan from your parted lips.
She pops off your breast to smirk, pushing both of them together. “I love your tits.” She spits on them, then flattens her tongue and drags it across your nipples.
“Bada…” You trail off, tears of pleasure falling from your eyes.
“I know baby,” she mutters, her voice hitching when she angles her hips down at the perfect spot and applies just the perfect amount of pressure–she does it again. A mix of her groan and your cry ringing in the air. She slaps her pussy against your own, the shock of bliss shoots up her spine, and makes her curse. “Fuck, cum with me.” She closes her eyes, losing herself in the pleasure. “Fucking cum with me, honey. Let go and give me your all. I want it.”
So you give her what she wants.
Both you and Bada cum seconds later, both of your eyes closed tight in ecstasy as your pussies still rub against each other’s, riding out the high until you no longer can.
Your fiancée is the first to pull away, gently letting go of your thigh and stretching it onto the bed. Exhausted, she flops beside you, breathing heavily.
“How do you feel?” She checks up on you, her eyes finding yours in an instant.
“So good.” You admit with a smile.
Bada grins back at you, scooting closer to you until her body is pressed against your side. She flips you around so that you’re facing her as she wraps her arms around your waist. “Hi.” She mumbles sweetly.
“Hi.” You mumble back, holding back a giggle.
Both of your bodies are hot and shining with sweat, but neither of you cares. You stay tangled together, simply staring into each other’s eyes.
This time when you look into her irises, there’s no storm brewing–no icey wall keeping you separated from her. Just her pretty, dark brown irises. This is the woman you’d fallen in love with.
Your fiancée’s eyes say, “I know who I am.”
“I’m glad,” yours say back.
Bada leans forward, rubbing her nose against yours in a sweet gesture. Then she moves to place her lips inches away from your ear, whispering, “I love you.”
❝ the pain of grief is just as much a part of life as the joy of love; it is, perhaps, the price we pay for love, the cost of commitment. ❞
taglist:
@aericrys, @somerandomtinyperson, @bluebada, @dallaji, @luvjanexx, @hyejuwu, @diana-rose-25, @jjlovesbada, @cephox, @prilux, @youknow1234, @fae-the-wanderer @mightymyo, @aein-tings, @badasgirlfriend, @onlyyou-metanoia, @wiselight @badasoneandonly, @multiliker, @badabonita, @randomhoex, @justaharmlesspotat0, @sporadicfacebasement, @4bada, @seungxstar, @urlovebot, @neuftaeng, @hyunsllvr, @aixicl, @itzmy
(if your name is crossed out i wasn't able to to tag you)
want to join the taglist? send me a message or comment saying you'd like to be on it, and i'll add you!
#bada lee x reader#bada lee x reader smut#bada x reader#bada lee#bada lee smut#bada lee x reader angst#bada lee x reader fluff#bada#street woman fighter 2 x reader#swf2 x reader
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𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 (𝟑)
james potter x f!reader
fluff. 1.8k
Summary: James and Sirius miss Hope's first steps, but not her first time on a broom.
i love this little family so much, so now consider 'hope' as a mini series :) - h <;3
part 1 - part 2 - part 4 - masterlist
...
Hope is standing in the middle of the room, her little hands outstretched towards Remus.
He’s holding a magic camera, his eyes wide and words encouraging as he talks to her. They’re in matching pyjamas Sirius bought everyone the previous Christmas that have little Christmas trees and candy canes on. It’s March, the night before Hope’s first birthday, but the matching pyjamas have become a staple of lazy days spent in yours and James’ home. Hope wobbles on her feet a little, big blue eyes wide with laughter. Remus laughs too, snapping photograph after photograph as his niece stumbles towards him.
You’re cheering, too, from behind her, hands clasped to your mouth. You’ve been an emotional wreck all day. Hope turns one, tomorrow, and you’re starting to understand why James is adamant she’s growing too fast. It’s been nine months. The war is still raging on but being able to come home from the potion’s lab, or an order meeting, and have your little girl be there, safe, loved, and a beacon of pure light and joy, makes everything a little less scary. You fight every day for a world in which she can grow and be safe. You know a lot of people aren’t so lucky. But Hope has lived up to her name’s sake for your family.
And now she’s going to be one.
And she’s taking her first steps towards Remus, who’s cheering loudly, and your daughter is giggling, and you’re crying.
Tears of pure joy are streaming down your face when Hope finally reaches Remus and falls into his arms. Remus sets the camera down and picks her up. He holds her to his face, blows a raspberry against her cheek, and she howls with laughter. When he sets her back down, Hope tootles back towards you, bright eyed, wide smiled, and fast on her feet. You’re waiting with open arms, ecstatic when your daughter collapses into them. Remus is back to snapping photos, which you’re glad of because if James isn’t already going to be gutted that he missed Hope’s first steps, he’ll be livid if he finds out there’s no photographic evidence of it.
“Oh,” You breathe when Hope’s tiny hand tries to swipe at your wet cheeks, “Oh, my sweet girl.”
“You okay?” Remus asks, though he looks just as close to tears despite the wide smile on his face.
You nod, wipe at your tacky cheeks, and send hope off to play with the collection of toys she’s set up in the middle of the living room, “She’s growing up too fast, Rem.”
Remus laughs and nods like he agrees, “You sound like James.”
“He’s going to be so annoyed.”
“We have the photos,” Remus tries to placate, but you both know James is still going to pitch a fit about missing Hope’s first steps.
Sirius, too, probably.
Remus gets up to make a cuppa for you both and you settle back to watch Hope. When he returns, you sit on the floor together and watch her. She’s in her own world, not a clue that it’s going to be her birthday tomorrow. She has no idea all your friends will be over for dinner to celebrate her, that there’ll be gifts for her, and cake for her. In a way it’s nice that she doesn’t have a clue. You know one day, when she’s four or five, and she understands more, that you’ll likely have to scrape her off the ceiling from excitement.
When James and Sirius get back Hope is on the suite with a bottle, half asleep. None the wiser, James leans down to press a kiss onto her head as he passes into the kitchen to find you and Remus. The kitchen windows are fogged up, a pot of soup bubbling away on the stove whilst you wash dishes and Remus dries and puts them away. The radio is playing softly in the background, mixed with the soft sound of Sirius’ voice as he talks to Hope about his day.
James appears in the doorway and he’s smiling the kind of smile where you know that he’s feeling grateful for the scene he’s come home to.
“Hey,” He greets you both.
You smile, drying your hands on a tea towel, and approach him for a kiss. You’re on your tippy toes when Sirius starts screaming from the living room. Your blood runs cold as Sirius shouts for you, James, and Remus, mind running wild with every possible danger that could have unfolded in the two minutes he’s been alone with Hope. There could be Death Eaters at your house – though, it’s physically unplottable, the thought still runs through your mind. Hope could have fallen from the couch onto her head. The list is endless.
The three of you are out of the kitchen and standing wide eyed in the living room in record time, scanning for any sign of danger. Sirius is standing by the window, jumping up and down excitedly, pointing at your daughter who is waddling towards him with a wide grin. She’s giggling again, and it’s that sound that kills your fight or flight mode. Now, you smile happily, watching as James proceeds to dissolve into a fit of tears.
He’s smiling and jumping with Sirius, but he’s sobbing uncontrollably, too.
You and Remus share a look. A silent question. Should you burst their bubble?
“Why aren’t you two more excited?” Sirius accuses.
And now you don’t have a choice because you’ve been caught.
“Babe,” James points, like maybe you can’t see your daughter walking back and forth, and he drops to the floor and corrals her into his arms, “Hope is walking!”
You nod, smiling wide, “Yeah, I see.”
Sirius looks at Remus. Maybe it’s because James is too distracted with kissing all over Hope’s face and mumbling how proud he is that he hasn’t noticed, but Sirius notices the way Remus is nervously biting his lip and immediately gasps.
“Treason!” He points at his boyfriend, wide eyed and accusatory.
“What?” James looks up, brows furrowed.
You and Remus are shifting on your feet. Hope sidles up to your leg, arms wrapping around your calf. You take the opportunity to bend down and pick her up, avoiding James’ question.
“How was shopping? Did you find the doll for-“ You try.
“Stop deflecting! They knew! She’s done it already!” Sirius is hysterical.
James stands, hands on his hips, and you fold.
“I’m sorry! She only did it literally like an hour before you got home!”
“We have photos.” Remus tries, backing away from Sirius as he charges at him.
James looks positively heartbroken. He frowns, blinks, “I missed her first steps?”
You frown, walk towards James, shift Hope further up your hip. He wraps an arm around you both, looks down at his daughter and his resolve softens. He smiles, leans forward to kiss her head. She gurgles, looks up at him with bright blue eyes. It fills your heart with love. Sirius and Remus are bickering to your right, and James is talking softly to Hope about how she must wait for him before achieving any more important milestones. You’re so grateful, so filled with love and joy and hope for the future.
The world isn’t perfect.
But when you have a family like yours, the world feels like maybe, one day, it could be.
“Don’t hate me.” You mumble, leaning your head on James’ shoulder.
James huffs a laugh, presses his lips to the crown of your head, pulls you in tighter, “Never, ever.”
“Did you get the doll?” You ask.
James nods, you feel it against your head.
You still have to wrap Hope’s presents. You should really get her to bed soon. But you don’t want to leave this moment with the people you love most.
“So, can I go get the toy broom from the cupboard?” Sirius asks. He and Remus seem to have made up. Sirius is leaning against Remus’ chest, a wicked smile on his lips.
You sigh, look at your daughter, mentally debating. Sirius has been dying to get Hope on a broom since he met her. You gave him strict rules – not until she could walk. And now she can walk. But a part of you worries she’ll love flying. The toy broom is charmed to fly, so you know she can have that. But Hope’s birth parents were muggles, and you know when she gets older, she won’t be able to mesh her magic with a broom to make it fly. Unless.
“Fine. Okay,” You concede. “But no higher than the coffee table!”
Sirius isn’t listening, already throwing winter coats and Christmas decorations out of the cupboard to get to the toy broom.
“I’ll get the camera.” Remus announces.
“What do we do when she’s too old for the toy broom?” You ask James, gnawing on your lip.
“I’ll look into some charms for bigger brooms, I’m not too sure. I’m sure there’ll be a way for her to be on a broom, at least.” James replies, just as antsy at you.
You’ve talked at length about how if you and James have more children, one day, Hope will be the only one without magical abilities. But you’ve never been able to come up with an actual solution. Really, there’s not one. It’s going to suck. But right now, while she has the chance to fly, who would you be to stop her? You never want to hold Hope back. You never will. So, when Sirius returns and takes Hope from your arms, hands the broom to James, you can’t help but feel excited.
James holds the broom and Sirius sets Hope on it.
She’s clumsy, holding onto Sirius’ arms rather than the handle, and she kicks her feet violently, which makes the broom wobble. But Sirius moves with her, laughing with pure unfiltered happiness. Remus snaps photos, following Sirius and Hope around the room. You sit, legs crossed, on the floor, a hand on your heart because you feel like you might explode. It’s cute and it’s happy and your house is filled with so much joy.
“At least I got to see her first time on a broom.” James placates with himself as he sits down next to you.
You laugh just as Sirius tries to take his hands off of Hope. She wobbles and almost topples off the side of the broom and you fly forwards. By the time you get there, Hope has corrected herself, and is flying with ease just high enough for her tip toes to be touching the ground. You still. Let out a breath. Sirius looks up guiltily.
“Her first and last.” You tell James.
“What’s that burning smell?” Remus asks, before Sirius can argue back.
You frown, looking around, “The soup!”
“Shit.” Remus abandons the camera and follows you to the kitchen.
From the living room, you can hear Sirius assuring Hope that it won’t be her last time on a broom, that her uncle Sirius will make her a quidditch star in no time. You hope, by some miracle, that he's right. You'll love her either way, though.
#marauders#marauders era#marauders fluff#marauders fic#james potter#james potter fic#james potter x reader#james potter fluff#james potter smut#james potter angst#sirius black#sirius black fic#remus lupin#remus lupin fic#wolfstar#wolfstar fic#peter pettigrew#peter pettigrew fic#lily evans#lily evans fic#mary macdonald#mary macdonald fic#marlene mckinnon#marlene mckinnon fic#dorcas meadowes#dorcas meadowes fic#regulus black#barty crouch jr#evan rosier#pandora rosier
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Misbehave, (18+)
♡ Pairing: Boyfriend!Changbin x Fem!Reader
♡ Genre: smut, pre-established relationship
♡ Word Count: 4k
♡ Summary: Changbin is on tour and misses his pretty girlfriend back home- and what better way to tell her he misses her than to send her a naughty video?
♡ Smut Warnings: sub!changbin, video recording, nipple play, masturbation, mommy kink (this is self indulgent okay), sex toys, phone sex, it is more than implied that bin has a degradation kink, petnames (baby, bunny, honey)
♡ Notes: so i saw this video of a guy in bunny pajamas jerking off and it gave me SUCH bad binnie brainrot i literally could not stop imagining him in cute pink bunny pajamas recording a video for his gf 😵💫😵💫 so yeah enjoy this purely self indulgent smut ! and i read a lot of mommy kink fic but this is my first time actually writing it so i'm not super confident its good but i hope it's at least decently enjoyable gfdgdf
♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.
“Baby! I’m wearing the pajamas you got me, you see?” Changbin smiles, bright and cute, just the way you like it as he looks into his phone's camera. The pajamas are a fluffy, pastel pink full body suit; warm, soft, cozy, with cute lopped bunny ears connected to the hood he has pulled up over his curly hair. You got the pajamas for him because they reminded you of him, you said, and he positively beamed- because you were thinking of him, because you bought him something so adorable, because now he gets to show them off for you.
He didn’t get a chance to wear them before he was getting shipped off on the next plane out of the country, but of course he packed them with him. And now, on a break between shows where he could just relax and take a breath, he decided this was the best time to wear them. But not just wear them- he had to show them to you! And sure, a few pictures would suffice, but isn’t this better? You can fully see how cute he looks in them this way, how the size you picked was just perfect, which he’s sure is because you know him inside and out.
He takes the soft pink bunny ears connected to the hood in his hands and flops them around, smiling while tilting his head back and forth, playing up his cuteness for the maximum effect. “If you were here, you’d call me cute, right? Your cute baby bunny?” Luckily for Changbin, he’s used to talking to a camera and displaying his cuteness, so recording a video like this for you comes to him naturally. And it’s lucky for you too, since that means your inbox is always full of new videos to get you through the drought until he comes back home.
Changbin can just imagine how you'd dote on him if you could see him now; you'd kiss his cheeks and nose, you'd ruffle his messy hair, you'd overload him with compliments and sweet words until his face goes pink and dick twitches in his pants. And really, he can't help that his body reacts to you this way- he just loves you so much, he lives for your compliments, and it's not his fault that the sweet, sometimes condescending way you speak them gets him all worked up. And while it's unfortunate he won't be able to get your initial reaction to his cute display in person, his imagination is more than enough fuel to keep him going.
“There's more I want to show you, you ready?” Changbin says as he starts to scoot away from where he has his phone propped up to record himself. It’s set pretty precariously against the pillows, seemingly on the verge of toppeling at any second, but he doesn’t think about that- his only thought is putting on a show for you. “It’s so soft- but you already know that, honey, you’re the one who picked it out,” he giggles a little to himself, giddy as he once again remembers it's a gift from you (exclamation point: you!), but he forces himself to stay on track before he gets too distracted.
“Since it’s so soft and comfy, I don’t need to wear anything underneath! See?” Changbin takes the zipper in his hand and he intends to pull it down slowly, but well.. he’s excited, and just can’t wait to show you how naked he is underneath the soft fluff of the pajamas you bought him. Sitting on his knees, he pulls the zipper down swiftly; and how quick he pulls it down causes it to get stuck for a moment, but he manages to keep it going smoothly after correcting its course.
If you were here, you’d definitely laugh at him for being so eager- you’d say something mean, but in that sweet, saccharine voice that’d instantly make his face flush pink and dick grow impossibly hard. You’d giggle at him for being pathetic, cock up your eyebrow and tilt your head to the side when he blushes, smirk when you see him twitch and throb and squirm after calling him a slut for always putting himself out on display for you.
The pajamas, big and loose as they are to comfortably fit all of Changbin’s muscle mass, completely hid his erection from view until the zipper was pulled all the way down. His chest, his cute tummy, his leaky cock- you can see it all now. But despite being exposed, he doesn’t take the pajamas off- he keeps the hood pulled up, doesn’t slip his arms out of the sleeves or take his legs out of the pants. He leaves them on for one main reason- because he feels cute in them, and wants you to think he's cute too.
“When I put them on I started thinking of you,” he says as he shifts into a more comfortable position off of his knees. There’s nothing to prop himself up against at the foot of the bed, so he has to just lean to one side and support himself with a single arm; not ideal, but the headboard has the very important task of keeping his phone upright (with the support of the pillows) and he will not be shifting anything around or starting over.
“A-And I get so hard whenever I think about you because you’re just so- mommy’s so pretty,” he says as his fingers ghost over his muscular chest, tracing the skin before he brushes his thumb over his nipple- the same way you would do it if you were here right now. It’s now that a blush finally rises on his cheeks; and it’s not that he’s embarrassed by doing it infront of a camera or from the image of himself tweaking his nipples reflected back at him, that part doesn’t matter- it’s because he’s sensitive.
His sensitivity to touch, whether yours or his own, is always enough to make his face burn, as it’s always a source of your teasing touches and words. You’ll pinch his sensitive nipples between your fingers while whispering filthy, playful words in his red-tinted ears, softly laughing when he squirms and whines. “I miss you,” he speaks to the camera, biting his lip when he rolls his nipple between his thick fingers, trying not to become too whiny right from the start.
Changbin is sure you’d like it if he was whiny right away, but he has to focus. He knows there’s major appeal in him becoming restless and needy quickly, and he has already shown how eager he is by hastily fumbling with his zipper, but still- he wants this video to last longer than a measly 5 minutes. It takes you longer to cum than him, and he needs to provide a video long enough for you to play with yourself to without having to loop it- that’s his thought process, anyways.
He averts his gaze from his phone setup, opting to look down at himself as he reaches over his chest to give his other nipple equal treatment. "I miss-" he starts to elaborate, but stumbles on his words after giving his nipple a particularly harsh tug. Shit- he has to move on if he wants to stay coherent enough to make a good video for you. Becoming unable to speak in the last few minutes is acceptable, but now, when he's barely even started? No, he has to do better!
So he trails his hand downwards, away from his chest and over his soft stomach as he tries again to let out what he wants to tell you. “I miss your smile, and- m-miss your kisses, your perfume, your hugs, your-” It’s a habit of Changbin’s to babble in these situations once he starts talking thanks to your influence on him. You like to get him talking when he’s like this- hearing him shyly babble away all the things he thinks you want to hear is easily one of your favorite things about fucking him.
And he obviously knows this, which is why he’s freely speaking every little thing that comes to his mind, knowing that you’ll like it (even if watching it back later will make him feel incredibly embarrassed.) Changbin isn’t shy about many things, but you always effortlessly bring his bashful side out. It’s another one of your favorite things, he knows- reducing your otherwise confident and unashamed boyfriend into an overly talkative, shy mess while his body takes on varying shades of pink and red.
So he does his best to bring himself to that place without your presence, to picture you there in front of him encouraging him to go on, to pretend his hand is yours instead. His string of words is broken by a harsh, shuddery breath when his hand finally reaches his cock. Changbin licks his drying lips and looks back at himself in the camera as he takes his length into his hand, stroking it as slowly as he can stand to.
It's more of a struggle than he'd like to admit- this is the first day he's had enough freetime to touch himself since leaving weeks ago, and his sensitivity, paired with the knowledge that he's recording for you and that you'll see all of this when you wake up in a couple of hours is causing his need to grow at an exponentially faster rate than he was prepared for.
He lets out a hiss when he rubs his thumb over the tip, and he has to make a conscious effort not to squirm or jolt his hips up into his hand too abruptly (both for his own sake, and his phone that isn't entirely stable in its placement.) Changbin's bottom lip quickly grows swollen and red from how frequently he bites at it in a vain effort to contain himself, and while it's more than mildly embarrassing to have such little control over his own body and voice, he knows you'll enjoy watching his failed efforts.
Changbin forces eye contact with the view of himself in his phone, wanting to ensure that it feels like he's looking at you when you inevitably watch it. He observes every detail, does his best to take note of what it is you'll be seeing; he watches the rise and fall of his own chest, how his stomach clenches, how his ever so slightly exposed thighs tense and twitch. You'll like this, right? Will think he's as sexy as he is cute? Will love it so much that you'll rub yourself over your dampening panties, that you'll reward him with a flood of sweet messages to wake up to when its morning for him?
"D-Do I look good like this, mama?" he asks the camera as he speeds up the motion of his hand, "Yes, right? I do? You love this, love me?" He briefly allows his eyes to close, imagining that you're there to answer his desperate questions- 'You look perfect, Binnie, you're amazing, such a good boy for me, I love you.' He can really hear you if he concentrates on the thought, as if you're just in front of him and not thousands of miles away peacefully asleep in bed.
Opening his eyes, Changbin remembers the bunny pajamas aren't the only thing he brought with him that he wanted to show you- he still has another surprise in store that he hopes you'll like to see. Letting go of his cock, he brings himself back to his knees and reaches for something just out of view of the camera- his fleshlight. His phone tilts from the shift in the weight, and Changbin is quick to catch it before it completely topples over.
He offers the camera a shy, somewhat awkward giggle as he puts his phone back in place, making an effort to secure it better this time in the hopes that it won't jostle too much from what he plans to do next. And in trying to get his toy ready quickly, he pours practically his entire travel-sized bottle of lube into it; a waste for sure, but he can always buy more later- getting the show back on track is more important.
Changbin is leaned forward now, face as close to the camera as it was when he was playing with the ears attached to the hood. His face being close again doesn't obscure the view of his body at all though, thanks to the fact that he's leaning at an angle, with one palm flat on the bed to support his weight while the other holds the fleshlight where he wants it. He's a bit nervous for this part, if he's being honest- maintaining eye contact himself while he fucks his toy is something he's never done before, but he wants to do it for you, so you have the best experience possible when he sends the video to you!
Other than briefly looking away to line himself up with the toy in his hand, he looks into the camera the entire time- as he slides inside, as he gasps and moans, as he rolls his hips over and over and over. He wonders if you’ve noticed it was gone; did you open up your shared drawer, pull out the bag containing all your fun little toys to have some fun with yourself, noticing in an instant that he took his own toys with him?
He imagines you did- that you pulled it out, intending to rummage for one of your vibrators and clearly saw it missing. You'd smile when you realized, he thinks, as there's only one reason to take such a thing with him. And you'd think of him the same way he always thinks of you, imagine him there next to you, close your eyes and pretend you're teasing him by making him watch you use a vibrator, not letting him touch you unless he's a good boy and keeps his hands to himself until you cum.
Changbin is always a good boy, even in his imaginary scenarios- he'd never, never do anything against what you tell him. Even when he imagines you touching yourself, when he thinks about what scenarios you'd picture in your mind to get off, he's a good boy who does whatever he's told, watching and waiting patiently for his time to touch you.
The ears on the hood still pulled over his fluffy hair bounce with each movement he makes, and finally he breaks eye contact with his phone, his head falling forward and eyes squeezing shut as his whimpers and moans grow in volume. "F-Feels so good baby, mom-mommy, mama, Binnie feels so- so good," he whines, biting his lip once more as he lifts his head to look at the camera again.
If he wasn't already so far gone, he'd feel bad for his neighbor on the other side of the hotel wall; he knows he's getting loud, but he can't help it. He's fucking his toy, head full of you- of what you'd say to him, how you'd sound with your vibrator pressed to your clit, how you'd expertly time your release with his, how you'd look at him when you cum together. With his eyes squeezed shut, he can perfectly conjure the image of you in his head, vivid and almost real enough to trick his brain into believing you’re together right now.
The way you smile at him always rattles his senses, pretty to an almost ethereal degree, sharply contrasting the dirty words you confidently, unashamedly tell him. And while your voice rings clearly in his head, it’s not really you- it’s just the memory of you; vivid, clear, but not as real as he wants it to be. His imagination helps but it’s still nothing compared to if you were really talking to him, if he could see you when he opens his eyes, if he could reach out and touch you or smell your perfume mixed with arousal.
Changbin just wants you, he misses you so fucking bad. It’s the early hours of the morning where you are, and you’re likely still asleep, but he has to call you, has to hear your voice. He obviously intended to cum on camera for you, and he’ll definitely feel bad about waking you up when he’s back in his right mind, but all he can think about right now is how much he craves you. He reaches for his phone, hastily ending the recording and pulling up your contact, pressing the call button before he can even think to stop himself.
The phone rings for so unbearably long that Changbin expects to hear your voicemail message, but to his surprised relief, you answer; a soft, deep and groggy “hello?” from the other end of the line. “Mommy-” he whines upon hearing your voice, his desperation clear through the speaker pressed to your ear. As if the needy whine wasn't enough of a tell to what he's doing, you can hear the slick, sloppy sounds of what you can only assume to be either his lubed up hand or one of his toys beneath his panting breaths and whimpery moans.
"Binnie," you start, a playful tone emerging in your voice, the haze of sleep melting away in record time in response to hearing your sweet boy playing with himself, "are you being naughty?" He nods quickly before he remembers you can't even see him right now and he needs to provide a verbal answer. "Y-Yeah, I- I was m-making a video for you but I need- need you so bad right now," he answers, his entire body shuddering when he hears you sweetly laugh in response.
"You always make me videos, though," you muse with a smile as you shift in bed, "but I'm guessing this is a naughty video, huh? Is that right, sweet boy?" Changbin whines when you call him that, but quickly affirms the statement with a timid 'yes.' You hum as your smile grows, settling comfortably on your back as you continue to talk to him. "So, what happened? Got so needy while making your slutty little video for me that you couldn't even finish it properly? Had to call mommy and wake her up just so you could finish getting off, is that it?"
He lets out another whine- louder this time, and beneath it another sound becomes obvious to your ears; whatever hotel bed he's on is beginning to creak. It tells you something important- that's he's not just laying on his back and stroking himself, but that he's deliberately fucking whatever it is he's using. And given the growing volume and rapid rate of the creaking, you imagine he's rutting into it pretty desperately.
Oh, what a sight he must be right now- it's a shame he's not recording anymore, because his debauched desperation would reflect beautifully on camera, a perfect image for only your eyes to see. "Are your eyes closed, bunny? Are you imagining me there?" you suddenly ask him and again he answers with an affirmative, albeit timid, whine. Good, you think, you know exactly what to do with this information- a little bit of roleplay is just the thing your sweet boy needs.
"How's my pussy feel, baby? Is it good?" you ask, having to bite your lip to suppress a delighted laugh when he gasps and whimpers. The fact that you're playing into his ongoing mental fantasies and pretending he's fucking you is driving him impossibly close to the edge. "S-So good, mama!" he manages to stutter out, and you can tell his rutting has grown more sporadic, the creaking of the bed far less successive and rhythmic as it was when you first noticed it.
“So wet, always so wet-” he continues, cutting himself off with a particularly loud whimper. In true ‘good boy’ fashion, Changbin intended to babble away all his thoughts and the things he knew you’d want to hear him say, but he has himself so high strung and taut that all he can do now is spill noise after noise from his harshly bitten lips. He wishes he wasn’t so close, if only so you could hear your voice for a little longer, but he can’t delay it much more than he already has. And the poor boy, he tries to ask for permission, or at least warn you it’s coming, but all that comes out are broken syllables between all his panting and crying.
It’s obvious he’s close without him even having to say it, and while your bunny appreciates a mean streak when it comes from you, you can tell he needs this and you’re not going to punish him for struggling to ask for permission. Instead, you’ll sweetly encourage him along; because another thing about Changbin is that he hates being bad, even when it’s by accident. “Gonna fill me up, sweet boy? Fill mommy’s pussy with your cum?” you ask, ensuring he knows it’s more than okay, that you want him to cum for you.
Changbin’s eyes roll back the instant the words leave your mouth, his cum spurting into the toy as a string of broken cries leave him in quick succession. He collapses to the bed with exhaustion when he’s finally done, his chest heaving as he tries to calm his racing heart and get his breathing back under control. He’s impossibly hot, from equal parts the pajamas and how worked up he got, his face red hot and his hair clinging to his forehead with sweat, eyes still closed while his brain tries to reboot itself and get back to normal function.
“Shit-” he suddenly scrambles back up, pressing the phone back up to his ear, “I’m so sorry, you were sleeping, it’s still early there and I called you anyways, oh my god-” Your giggle cuts off his string of apologies, and while he’s still impossibly sorry for waking you up just because he was horny, he is relieved you’re not mad at him. “It’s okay Bin, it was better than waking up to my alarm clock, that’s for sure,” you muse with a smile; could you have gotten an extra hour or two of sleep? Of course, but is this better? Absolutely.
“I love you, you know that? I love you so fucking much,” Changbin says and you giggle again before you reply. “I love you too, so don’t forget to send me that video! And clean yourself up, bunny, I know you’re a mess right now. I’ll stay on the phone with you, okay?” “Yeah? You will?” he smiles as he complies, carefully rising from the bed to get himself and his toy clean. “Mhm, it’s starting to get late for you, right? I’ll stay until you sleep,” you tell him, and oh, does that make him ecstatic.
He sends you the video before he forgets, and you talk about mundane things while he takes care of all the tasks he needs to get done to sleep. You’re talking about little things like what you plan to eat for breakfast, what you have to do at work today, what friends you’re going to meet for lunch- and Changbin soaks it all up happily, sighing contentedly as he lies back in his hotel bed, curled up with your soft voice to lull him comfortably to sleep. You don’t stop until you hear his soft snores and measured breaths, whispering to him a ‘good night’ and ‘I love you’ that he can no longer hear, but you have to say regardless.
Ending the call, you still have an hour left before you have to start your day in earnest, with a video in your inbox from your sweet boy just waiting to be watched and played to. You smile as you set your laptop at the foot of the bed and click open his video along with your camera, rays of sunshine just beginning to illuminate your room through the curtains, setting a beautiful backdrop as you set yourself up to return your sweet boyfriend’s favor.
#this was supposed to come out sooner but i got sick earlier this week :') forgive me besties#skz x reader#changbin x reader#skz smut#changbin smut#skz scenarios#skz imagines#skz fanfic#sub!skz#mdni + divider graphic credit: @cafekitsune
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I LOVE YOUR DAD!MIGUEL FICS so how about the reader painting Dad!Miguel’s nails???😍 like the reader bothers Miguel about it until he’s like “Ugh. Fine.” But he actually ends up enjoying it and spending time with his daughter (reader, or if you want then kid for gender neutral)
Manicure! /// Miguel O’Hara x GN!Teen!Reader
✦ I MADE IT GN, hope u dont mind i already made like 3 fem readers so i had to even it out 😞
✦ miguels a lil grump here
✦ pure fluff!! <33
✦ HOPE U ENJOY!!
“What color do you want?” Your eyes looked through the rows of nail polish you had organized on top of your dresser. A large teasing smile was plastered on your face as you searched. Miguel muttered curses under his breath, his eye twitching in annoyance at your smile. After hours of you pleading and begging Miguel to allow you to paint his nails, he finally caved in, saying he was sick and tired of your pestering. Though, he wasn’t too happy about it. His knitted brows and deep scowl spoke volumes to you.
You found his whole childish act amusing. This grown man, who’s your father, is acting like it’s the end of the world because you wanted to paint his nails. Miguel didn’t respond to your question from earlier, probably too busy throwing a huge tantrum inside his head to respond, so you decided to choose for him. You plucked a few colors from the rows and laid them down on your palms. “Which ones?”
Miguel huffed out, his eyes looking at the polishes on your hands before looking down at his hands. Was he trying to imagine which color would suit him better? A shaky smile threatened to pull on your lips but you quickly pursed your lips into a thin line when Miguel’s eyes darted over to your face, eyelids menacingly narrowing at you. “Paint them white.”
You gave him a weird look. “White? But that’s so basic.” You looked down at the colors you picked out, pointing at a red and black one. “What about red and black? So it’ll match your suit.”
Now it was his turn to give you a weird look.
“My suit doesn’t have any black on it.” He tells you, shaking his head disapprovingly. “Either you paint my nails white or you don’t paint my nails at all.” He said, using his pointer finger to accentuate the gravity of his words.
“Fine, fine.” You store all the polishes away, leaving you with his plain white color. You take the polish and lead him to your desk where he sits on the chair. You grab your own chair and sit in front of him.
“Put your hands on the desk.” You instruct as you shook the nail polish. Miguel places both hands on your desk, splaying his fingers apart. “You promise you won’t peel the polish off afterward?”
Miguel sighs. “I promise.”
“Do you pinky promise?” You popped up your pinky, waiting for Miguel to wrap his pinky around yours to seal the deal.
A small smile is slightly visible on his lips. He hooked his pinky with yours, sealing the promise tightly. “I pinky promise.”
You beamed happily, twisting open the polish. “Okay! That’s good to hear.” You pull out the brush and sweep it against the edge, removing any excess paint. You motion Miguel to move his hands a little closer to you. He complies with a slight huff and you begin to paint his nails.
You’d occasionally have to slap his hand to tell him to stop moving. He claimed that the brush tickled him but you didn’t believe him. It got to the point where you had to give him a 5-minute break between each coat. He found your complaints entertaining, you assumed he was acting that way just to mess with you.
“Oh, it’s starting to tickle. I need my five-minute break.” He already started to move his hand away but before he could escape, you caught his wrist with your other hand and pinned it back down to the desk. “I haven’t even finished!” You whined out, kicking his leg playfully under the desk. “You’re literally doing this on purpose, Pa.”
“I’m not.” You would’ve bought his whole act if you didn’t look at his face. His huge smirk gave it all way. You rolled your eyes, focusing back on his nails. “Give it up.”
A snort could be heard from Miguel at your response.
After a few more coats and fanning, you finally finished his nails. “I’m done!” You cheered. “What do you think?”
Miguel looked at his nails, nodding his head slowly in an approving matter. “Not bad.” He flexes his fingers, looking genuinely happy with his nails. You shook your head affectionately.
“See! And to think you were throwing a whole fit about it not too long ago.” You tease, twisting the polish closed. “I should give you French tips next time.” You got up from your chair and placed the polish back where it belonged.
“There isn’t going to be a next time.” He said.
There was a next time.
#across the spiderverse#into the spider verse#spiderman across the spiderverse#miguel ohara#miguel ohara x reader#miguel o’hara x daughter!reader#atsv miguel#miguel x you#miguel o’hara x daughter! reader#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o’hara x teen! reader#miguel o’hara x teen!reader#miguel o’hara fic#miguel o’hara x kid!reader#miguel o’hara x reader platonic#miguel o’hara x y/n
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hi can you make headcanons about yandere Elijah mikaelson
Yandere Elijah Mikaelson:
Elijah is known to be a gentleman, a feminist and respectful of peoples personal space and stays out of others business
That was true…well until he saw you. He couldn’t help himself okay? It’s not his fault, you were the one who had to walk in with that perfect smile, an angelic laugh, the way your eyes lit up when you spoke to your friend. Your friend who was clearly not good enough for you.
He could be though, Elijah knew he could be everything for you, he could cook for you, clean for you, be there for you, keep you safe, love you.
Look his family take advantage of him, you were a great distraction, something to lighten up his day
Following you around was the highlight of his day.
He both hated and loved your apartment, you had such big windows, he could always see you, when you sat and watched tv, read a book, baked something, came out the shower in your tiny little towel, got changed in the mornings and evenings, when you did your yoga poses and showed him just how flexible you could be
He couldn’t help but think of you when he was alone, your body sprawled across his bed, bent over his desk, your beck on display so he could sink his teeth in. He couldn’t stop the thoughts of you, it’s not his fault you were so enticing, he had to help himself feel some sort of relief okay?
He ‘bumped into you’ in a coffee shop, you spilt your drink all over his expensive suit, you were mortified and began wiping his chest with a cloth but he reached up and held you hand to him and told you it was fine and kissed the back of your hand.
Each time you saw him it was purely coincidental and you always apologised for your first meeting and everytime he would assure you it was perfectly fine, he didn’t like that tie anyway.
He enjoyed how bad you felt, how shy you were because you didn’t want to embarrass yourself again, how you apologised with big eyes and pouty lips, he felt powerful.
When he asked you on a date you were a blushing mess, he wanted to go out with you?
Of course you said yes and he took you to the most expensive restaurant you had ever known, he payed despite your efforts of argument even though you probably couldn’t afford it and he knew you couldn’t because he kept an eye on your bank accounts and what you bought, where you went etc
He met your friends and he did not like them. They took your kindness for granted, who did they think they were? The way one of their hands would squeeze your arm, you should not be touched by anyone but him.
Once you invited him in he took advantage of that, watching you sleep, occasionally laying with you when you were in too deep to wake up, stroke you cheek and kiss your lips faintly, he would go through your drawers and rearrange your clothes. You were far too messy, he could help with that.
Whenever you asked him to come over he would arrive with flowers and a kiss on the cheek, he would subtly tidy your apartment bit by bit and he would offer to cook for you, he was a literal dream! who wouldn’t want a man who would do all the things that most would expect you to do
Your apartment was big and spacious, it had a lovely view, he understood why you liked the windows but he did buy you some curtains though because you really shouldn’t appear so vulnerable in the open.
Elijah actually moved in with you instead of you in with him. It meant you didn’t have to be around his family, nobody would be able to take him from you and he could pay your rent. You wouldn’t feel like he was taking you away from your life but he could still isolate you in your own space.
He loves to do your hair, it’s one of his favourite things, having his fingers on your scalp while you make the cutest little moans of pleasure without realising it has him shifting in his seat.
Your neck is his drug, he lives with his face buried in your neck, breathing your scent, sucking your skin, whispering dirty things behind your ear.
You’re his innocent little darling that he needs to protect and if that means dipping into his predatory side then he will.
Hands will be torn from peoples arms if they touch you, heart will be lots as well as heads. You never witness these things and you probably don’t know they happen, maybe you’re suspicious? who knows?
Elijah to you is your prince charming, he swoops in and saves the day, he is sweet and feels like home, he loves you and you know that, he wants to marry you, have a life with you and giving up a few things shouldn’t be that hard if he is your prize, right?
#elijah mikealson imagine#elijah mikaelson#elijah mikaelson smut#elijah mikaelson fluff#elijah mikaelson headcannons#elijah tvd#tvd elijah#tvd icons#tvdedit#tvd smut#tvd universe#tvd klaus#tvd imagine#klaus mikaelson#klaus mikaelson one shot#klaus mikaelson x reader#klaus mikaleson imagine#klaus michaelson#klaus mikealson fanfiction#the originals#klaus m#klaus mikaelson x y/n#niklaus imagines#the vampire diares imagine#kol mikaelson#the vampire diaries#klaus mikaelson fluff#klaus mikaelson headcanon#hope mikaelson#rebekah mikaelson
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Dark Blue On You
wc: 7k (HAHAHA WHAT)
pronouns: none used; n/a
warnings: swearing, angsty with a happy ending but its funny/fluffy too, mentions of others drinking, mentions of hooking up; think pg-13 for this one; also taerae in that suit should be a warning in and of itself
warnings for spicy cut scene: MINORS DNI!!!-- mature/suggestive/smut themes-- MINORS SKIP THIS CUT SCENE AND CONTINUE READING BELOW IT!!! (fic makes perfect sense without it) linked here and linked in fic for correct placement in story
summary: bestfriend!reader is so excited when the star of the soccer team finally asks them to prom. but when losercore!taerae asks his lab partner to prom out of the blue, reader's sudden jealousy takes them by surprise... basically the prom-themed best friends to lovers of your dreams, okay? okay :)
~masterlist~ ♡ ~kofi (no pressure at all)~
GUYS! HI! it's been so long. i missed you! this was 7,000 words (plus the cut scene) so i'm sorry but that's why it took so long. was also feeling a bit rundown in terms of writing so i really needed to pace myself. but i saw those pictures of taerae in that suit and i swear to god i'm a different person now, so this is the fic you get from that brainrot. also not sure if the suit was actually blue, but that's how it looked in the pics so i ran with it. SO many fun things happening in the zb1 world in the past few days! let me know what you think of this one :) love you sm
“If you steal one more of my sweet potato fries (Y/N), I swear I’m gonna--.”
You pop the orange-colored french fry into your mouth, grinning at Taerae smugly. “You’re gonna what?”
Eyes narrowed at you through dorky, wire-framed glasses, your best friend pouts annoyedly. “One day you’ll fear my wrath.”
“Wouldn’t count on it,” you respond with a giggle. Despite his angry demeanor, Taerae turns his lunch tray so that the sweet potato fries are now facing you-- giving you easier access to one of your favorite snacks.
“You could just go back up and get your own, you know,” he persists with his performance even as he squeezes more ketchup onto his tray for you to dip the fries in. “What would you do without me?”
“Sarcastic answer: finally achieve a peaceful existence,” you joke, popping another fry into your mouth. “Serious answer... I’d be lost without you.”
You watch as Taerae’s glasses fog up a bit; the way they always did when he received a compliment or you were being a bit too sincere with him. He takes them off quickly, clearing his throat as he wipes the lenses with the hem of his polo shirt.
A pile of books slam down onto your lunch table as your friend Dohyun plops onto the bench beside you. “(Y/N)! Just the person I wanted to talk to.”
“Do you ever talk to anyone else?” You quip, earning a glare from the skinny boy.
“I talk to Taerae hyung, too,” he mumbles. You glance at your best friend, noticing how quiet he’s gotten all of a sudden. “And I like him better than you anyway.”
You shrug. “That makes two of us.”
“What I was going to ask you is,” Dohyun starts; pulling out his lunchbox from his backpack and opening it up. “Has Ryan asked you to prom yet?”
Taerae audibly gulps from across the table. You frown at him, wondering why he’s acting so weird.
“No,” you answer softly. “He hasn’t. And I definitely don’t think he’s going to anymore.”
“I don’t know what you saw in Ryan anyway,” Dohyun says, shaking his head disapprovingly. “He only wanted one thing from you.”
Taerae chokes on his apple juice suddenly and you take the carton from his hand-- placing it back on the table pointedly as he coughs into his elbow.
“That’s enough, Dohyun,” you scold. “And for the record, I’m as pure as the day you met me.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” the younger boy laughs. “So… Are you gonna go to prom alone, or?”
“I don’t know,” you sigh. “I already bought my outfit. I had it altered to fit perfectly, so I don’t really think I can return it at this point.”
“I’m sorry, (Y/N),” Taerae says finally. “I know you were really looking forward to going with Ryan. He’s gonna regret not asking you. But um...”
Your brow furrows as you wait for Taerae to continue his sentence. He’s looking at you kind of funny now-- eyes wide and anxious.
“Well, if you already have an outfit and stuff, I was thinking that... Um...” You watch curiously as he bends over to his side and begins shuffling through his backpack. “Fuck, where is it?”
“Hey, (Y/N)!” Someone suddenly calls behind you. Your head whips around to find Ryan walking towards your lunch table, his signature charming smirk on his lips. He’s carrying a duffel bag over his shoulder for soccer practice as he lands in front of you.
“Hi Ryan,” you greet sweetly, brain turning to mush. You’d first met the star of the soccer team officially when your Math teacher assigned you to tutor him a few months ago. He’d been in serious jeopardy of being kicked off the team for his failing grades, but with an hour of tutoring every other day, you’d helped him climb back up to a solid C+. The afternoon he received his first unit test grade since you’d started tutoring him, he had been thrilled to see B- circled in red at the top of the page...
So thrilled, in fact, that he’d kissed you at your back corner table in the library.
And he’d kept kissing you. For the rest of that tutoring session... And then the one after that... And the one after that... And the one after that until your meetings had become more of a hybrid tutoring-and-make-out session.
That had been the extent of your “relationship” though. He was always busy with soccer and his meathead friends and ogling popular girls at the library tables next to you when your faces weren’t connected.
But he was the first boy to ever pay attention to you like this-- and he was so handsome to boot. The attention and the fantasy muddied every intelligent and rational thought in your brain. Even if you were being used, you weren’t really ready for it to stop.
One day as you were approaching the library, you stopped in your tracks as you heard Ryan’s voice around the corner. He was talking to one of his jock friends and you held your breath as you attempted to hear their conversation.
“All of the cheerleaders already have dates, dude,” Ryan’s friend relays. “Why did you wait so long?”
Ryan was silent for a moment before responding, “Even Steph?”
“Even Steph,” his friend confirmed. “Injun asked her yesterday.”
“Damnit.”
“Well, you’ve gotta go with somebody,” his friend urged. “Tyler’s parents are letting us use their lake house for the after party, so... Who’re you gonna ask!?”
“I’ll... I’ll find somebody,” Ryan responded and you heard the door to the library begin to squeak open.
“Hopefully somebody that’s gonna put out,” his friend joked and Ryan laughed along.
It was from that moment that you’d gotten it in your head that there was a chance that Ryan might ask you to prom. You’d gone shopping with your mom to pick out the perfect outfit, booked an appointment to get your hair styled for the occasion, and called a florist to purchase a boutonniere to pin on Ryan’s suit that matched your outfit.
As you’d doodled your name next to Ryan’s in your journal and decorated it with hearts one evening last week, your best friend Taerae laid on your bed-- legs dangling off the side as he strummed his guitar.
“(Y/N)...” He sang suddenly in an improvised melody. “Put down your pen... It’s getting annoying... So please tell me when...”
You turned around and glared at him, but he continued.
“You’ll stop your obsession... With that asshole named Ryan... He hasn’t even asked you to prom yet, what if he doesn’t ask you, your heart is gonna break and I’m gonna have to pick up the pieces and glue them all together again and--.”
“None of that rhymed.”
“Lyrics don’t have to rhyme for them to hold meaning,” Taerae responded, arms flopping onto the bed in a T-position dramatically. “I’m worried about you. I think this guy might be taking advantage of you.”
“At least someone wants to,” you joked, but the levity didn’t quite reach your voice. Taerae sat up abruptly; eyes fixing on you for a long moment. Finally, he sighed and pulled his guitar strap over his head-- placing the instrument beside him.
“A lot of people want to take advantage of you, (Y/N).”
Your jaw dropped as you watched Taerae realize what he just said. He’d already begun shaking his head and waving his arms about profusely by the time a smile crept onto your face.
“NOT WHAT I MEANT!” He shouted frantically and the sheer panic on his face was enough to make you burst out laughing. At the sound of your laughter, Taerae couldn’t help but grin and the appearance of his deep dimples was admittedly comforting to you. “You already knew that’s not what I meant but... I’m just trying to tell you he’s not the only guy that likes you.”
Your brow furrowed curiously. “Who else likes me?”
“Oh, uh,” Taerae stuttered nervously, averting your gaze. “Lots of guys. Other guys. Girls, too, probably. And nonbinary folk, I’m sure.”
You nodded, unconvinced. “Well all of those other people are gonna have to fight Ryan for my attention, I guess.”
Taerae gulped. “Right.”
“Now shut up, loser,” you said, spinning back around in your desk chair. “I’m trying to name me and Ryan’s fourth child.”
Now as Ryan stands in front of you, he glances at your only two friends that are also sitting at your lunch table. “Hey nerds.”
Taerae mumbles something under his breath but you aren’t paying him any attention.
“I’ll pick you up at 7, yeah?” Ryan asks suddenly, nodding at you.
Your lips part slightly in confusion. “What?”
“Tomorrow,” he responds brusquely. “Prom.”
“You--... We--... Us? Prom?” You know that gibberish is falling out of your mouth, but your ability to form a coherent sentence has flown out the window.
Ryan gives you an impatient smile. Of course he has every right to be impatient, you think. I can’t even speak well enough to answer his question. “Yeah. Text me your address.”
“We were actually gonna take photos at (Y/N)’s house beforehand,” Dohyun interjects.
Ryan frowns. “Oh. Yeah, okay. I can do that.”
“Really? That’s so nice of you; you don’t have to if you don’t want to!” You say quickly, grinning up at the tall boy.
“Nah, that’s cool. I’ll be there. See you then,” Ryan says with a smile before taking off towards the other end of the cafeteria. His smile is enough to burst your heart-- but lucky for you (and your poor friends), you’re able to muster up enough strength to keep living.
Instead, you merely scream; keeping your mouth closed to muffle the sound. When you finally return to the world around you, you suddenly notice how silent your friends are.
“What?” You ask, frowning at Dohyun. “Why aren’t you guys excited?”
You turn to Taerae, who is holding a large piece of folded up paper in his hands. “What’s that?”
Snatching it from his hands, Taerae immediately lunges across the table in a panic to grab it back from you. Dohyun also swoops in to steal the paper, but both of their efforts are in vain as you swivel around to face the opposite direction and open what appears to be a poster.
🌸🌺🌸 Will you go to prom with me? 🌸🌺🌸
“OH MY GOD!” You squeal, whipping back around to face your best friend. He rips the poster from your hands and begins folding it back up, cheeks turning red. “You’re asking someone to prom!? WHO!?”
“Oh thank god: you’re an idiot,” Dohyun mumbles, sinking back into his seat.
Your brow furrows confusedly. “Huh?”
“Nothing,” Taerae answers quickly. “No one said anything.”
“Taerae, if you don’t tell me who you’re asking to prom right now, I swear I’m gonna--.”
“MOLLY!” He shouts suddenly, eyes wide as he stares over your shoulder. You turn around to follow his gaze, spotting Taerae’s lab partner, Molly, a few tables behind you. She smiles when she hears Taerae call her name, getting up from her seat and walking over to your table.
“Hi Taerae,” she greets cheerfully, curly short hair bouncing with every step. The very smart, but sometimes obnoxious girl is blinking at your best friend nervously... Holy shit. Had Molly had a crush on Taerae this whole time and you hadn’t noticed?
More importantly... Had Taerae had a crush on her?
“Hi Molly, um... I was wondering,” he starts; his delivery of this promposal a little unprepared. That’s weird, you think. If Taerae was gonna ask someone out, I’m sure he would’ve rehearsed it in the mirror until he lost his voice…
“Dude,” Dohyun interrupts suddenly, eyes wide as he looks at Taerae.
Taerae just ignores him, clearing his throat and starting again; unfolding his poster onto the table once more. “I was wondering, actually, if you’d maybe like to possibly-- and no pressure or anything, maybe someone’s already asked you, but...”
“OH MY GOD! Of course I’ll go to prom with you,” Molly exclaims, throwing her arms around Taerae. You watch as he freezes, never one for accepting public affection from anyone he didn’t know well...
From anyone except you.
You frown at the bizarrely jealous thought. Taerae obviously liked this girl. Just last week, he’d been complaining about her chewing too loud in the computer lab, but maybe he was just trying to cover up his real feelings. Taerae deserved to be happy.
Any boy that would make a whole poster just to ask someone to prom deserved to be happy. You sigh as you study the poster in front of you. I wish Ryan had made me a poster...
As Taerae starts to fold it back up, you notice some surrounding doodles that you had been too distracted to see before. All around the border of the poster are what appear to be light pink Royal Azaleas.
Your favorite flower.
Had Taerae really used your favorite flower to decorate his promposal for someone else? How could he?
“Stop it!” You say out loud, earning a weird look from all three of the people surrounding you. You smile awkwardly, trying to laugh off your unintentional angry outburst at your own thoughts. “I mean... Stop being so cute you guys!”
Molly grins. “Text me where to meet you tomorrow! I can’t wait.”
Taerae nods quickly as Molly skips back to her own lunch table. As soon as she’s gone, he lets out a huge sigh and you hear the clamoring of his glasses as his head falls to the table.
“But this is amazing, Tae,” you say, staring at the top of Taerae’s head as his forehead rests on the surface of the lunch table. He lifts up for a second, folding his arms and laying his right cheek back down on top of them. His hair falls messily in his eyes, unkempt and fluffy as it usually is. But the sudden urge to brush it out of his face takes you by surprise. “I didn’t know you were going to ask Molly to prom today.”
Dohyun snorts from beside you, now totally engrossed in the game he’s playing on his phone:
“Neither did he.”
~~~
“(Y/N), come down here! We need to take pictures before you leave,” your mother calls from downstairs. “We’re gonna head outside so please hurry up and join us!”
You’re staring at yourself in the mirror, anxiety building. Nearly everything about your appearance for tonight is perfect-- your hair, your skin, your outfit; even your shoes. Your friends and family are in your front yard waiting for you.
But all you can think about is how Ryan hasn’t shown up yet.
You’d texted him your address. Told him what time to come over. And now he’s already thirty minutes late. You’d have to leave soon to get to the school on time.
“Where is he?” You whisper to yourself, grabbing your phone from your bed and checking your notifications again. Nothing.
“(Y/N), if you don’t get your ass down here right now!” The voice that’s calling you now is Taerae’s. His threat is angry enough that it makes you move-- opening the door to your room and walking to the top of the stairs.
Taerae is furiously typing on his phone as you make your way down the stairs, his back turned to you. He’s wearing a dark blue suit-- slim-fitting and tailored to him perfectly. When you reach the second to last step, you clear your throat.
Your best friend looks up at you now, eyes wide as he takes in your appearance. His hair is pushed back, still fluffy but out of his face. You’re surprised to find yourself thinking that he looks very handsome. You blink away the thought as you continue to study Taerae-- eventually realizing that something is missing.
“No glasses?” You ask, waiting for him to respond. When he doesn’t, you prompt him again. “Taerae?”
“Oh, uh,” he begins to reply finally, shaking his head as if to clear his mind. “Yeah, just for tonight. My mom... thought it would look nice.”
“Your mom is right,” you say, smiling softly at him. “She usually is though.”
“You’re perfect,” Taerae says suddenly; eyebrows shooting up when he realizes what he just said. “I mean, you look perfectly ready to go and take pictures! And then go to prom. And stuff. You know? Like, you look perfect. Well--... You--... Um--...”
He’s rambling now and you don’t blame him. Your whole lives, you and Taerae had maintained a friendship without most pleasantries a normal friendship might have. Your affection towards each other usually came in the form of play-fighting, insults, sharing sweet potato fries at lunch, and other subtle acts of service. Only when one of you was having a particularly hard day would the other offer a hug or hand to hold or words of affirmation. You and Taerae were so close that normal affection usually seemed pretty arbitrary.
So this compliment from Taerae, even if it was unintentional is... different.
You swallow hard, averting your best friend’s gaze. “So do you.”
Brushing past him, you open the front door and step out onto your porch-- Taerae following behind you after a moment. You check your phone again for any texts from Ryan.
“He’s a prick, (Y/N),” Taerae says softly, as you continue to stare at your phone screen-- willing your eyes not to water. “Don’t let him ruin this for you. This was all your idea. You wanted to go to prom. You wanted to take pictures beforehand. Why are you letting this guy totally fuck up your night?”
Your eyes meet Taerae’s. He’s right and you know it. Ryan couldn’t care less about you and it was evident in the way he’d asked you (or rather, told you that you were going with him) to prom-- and the way he hadn’t shown up on time to your house. In fact, the whole day you’d been consumed by two feelings: the first being obsession over whether or not Ryan would like your outfit, your hair, your parents, your house...
The second being that deep down, in the pit of your stomach, you were filled with regret about your fixation these past couple of months on the soccer star. Even Taerae had made a nice poster for Molly. Not that he’d even bothered to tell you that he was asking her. And not that you cared what Taerae did or didn’t do for people he liked.
Right?
“Tae, I--.”
“Taerae!” A chipper voice calls from around the corner. Molly appears at the bottom of the porch steps, motioning for your best friend to come down. “Come take pictures! You too, (Y/N). Just because your prom date’s a bust, doesn’t mean you can steal mine!”
Your jaw drops slightly in shock. “I wasn’t--... That’s not--...”
“Chop, chop!” Molly says, walking back over to where all of your parents are standing-- Dohyun in the middle of them, talking their ears off.
Not wanting any more accusations being hurled at you on your own property, you give Taerae a quick shrug before following her out onto the lawn.
~
You’re sitting in the passenger seat of Ryan’s red sports car now as he parks in the school lot. He’d finally shown up two minutes before you were about to have to hop into Taerae’s car and ride in the backseat behind him and his date. Your mom, who was making no attempt to hide her displeasure, was able to snap a quick few photos of you before you left.
Ryan turns off the car, stuffing his keys in his right pocket before leaning back again into his seat. He’s staring at you and you’re not really sure how to respond. You reach for the door latch, but you feel his hand touch your left arm before you can open it.
You identify the look in his eyes right away-- he wants to kiss you. Come to think of it, you hadn’t kissed Ryan in over a week. You’d been busy with an essay and had to cancel your “tutoring sessions”. Usually, the idea would excite you. But tonight, it almost made your stomach turn.
A knock on your window startles you and you look over to find Taerae smiling at you-- more than a hint of annoyance in his eyes.
Ryan rolls down your window. “Dude, what are you--?”
“(Y/N) really wants to go to prom with you,” he replies, opening your door for you. You hop out immediately, grateful for the interference. “So you can save whatever you’re gonna do for later.”
You don’t look back at Ryan, walking as quickly as you can towards the front doors of the school. Eventually, Ryan, Taerae and Molly all catch up to you as you walk through the entranceway.
A beautiful balloon arch greets you as you enter the gym, fairy lights and vintage streamers lining every inch of the walls. It’s exactly as you’d imagined-- the prom of your dreams.
“JORDAN!” Ryan shouts suddenly from behind you, almost knocking you down as he runs to greet one of his stupid jock friends.
You start to fall, but a pair of hands are already on your shoulders to keep you upright. “Thanks,” you mumble as Taerae pushes you through the balloon arch and towards the open floor.
“Where do you wanna sit, Taerae?” Molly asks, smiling at him expectantly. “I’m sure (Y/N) is gonna go sit with Ryan.”
You glance back to where Ryan had run off to, finding him completely surrounded by his many popular friends. You turn back to Molly and Taerae, forcing yourself to nod.
“You should sit with us,” Taerae says, the pity in his eyes growing more embarrassing every minute. You aren’t going to ruin his night with Molly. You just couldn’t do that to your best friend.
Shaking your head, you try to smile reassuringly. “I’ll be fine.”
“(Y/N)...”
“You guys have fun! I’ll see you in a bit,” you call, wandering off to a table in the opposite corner. Once you take your seat, it’s as if you’ve been glued to it permanently.
You watch all of your peers rush to the dance floor, laugh together, embrace each other... Not once does Ryan ever come find you. But you know deep down that you sort of deserve it. How had you been so obsessed with one boy asking you to prom and ended up being the only person here having such a miserable time?
You should never have come. Or you should have come alone. Or with Taerae.
Taerae...
Your eyes rest on your best friend, who is sitting with Molly at their table. He’s leaning back comfortably in his chair; navy blue suit contrasting perfectly with his light olive skin. His smile is bright and pretty-- why the hell does he look so pretty tonight?
Is he having fun with Molly? Is he thinking about me?
Almost as if he’s heard your thought, Taerae’s eyes meet yours. The smile on his face instantly fades to an expression of concern and you hate it. You want him to smile at you like he was just smiling at Molly.
But why would he smile at you like that? He likes Molly.
Not you.
Your phone buzzes in your hand and you look at the screen to find a message from Taerae.
Are you okay??
You look back up at him, deciding to nod and give him a thumbs up-- hoping for that dimpled smile to return to his face. It doesn’t.
(Y/N), please just come over here
You’re breaking my heart
Learning that you sitting alone in a corner is ruining Taerae’s prom experience is not what you needed to hear. Pressing your lips together awkwardly, you nod slowly at him; starting to stand up from your chair to go talk to him for a bit.
But you stop in your tracks when you watch Molly grab Taerae’s hand and pull him up out of his chair. She’s trying to tug him towards the dance floor-- his eyes widening in panic as they remain locked on you.
You wave him on, trying your best to smile at him. You feel your lip quiver and you hope he doesn’t notice from the other end of the gym. Taerae reluctantly stops resisting Molly and joins her on the dance floor after giving you another regretful look.
“Heyyyy (Y/N),” a voice slurs in your ear now, an arm wrapping around you from behind. You look up to find Ryan, smiling goofily back at you. He’s piss drunk, of course.
“Hi,” you say shortly, attempting to wiggle out of his hold but the alcohol hasn’t lessened his strength. “Can you let go, please?”
“Why would I do that?” He asks rhetorically, tequila coating his breath. “You’re my date.”
“Am I?” You spit, finally breaking free of his grip. “I couldn’t tell.”
He frowns. “What do you want? Do you want to dance or something? We can dance.”
“I want to go home,” you respond, glaring at him. “I don’t want to be here anymore.”
With that, you’re walking past Ryan and through the balloon arch out of the gym. It’s not until you’re standing in the hallway that you hear a set of footsteps following you.
You turn around to find Ryan standing behind you, a small silver flask in hand. “What are you doing?”
“Taking you home,” he answers, unscrewing the top off the flask and taking a sip. “You said you wanted to go home.”
“Are you kidding me?” You ask, eyes wide with shock. “You’re drunk. You’re not getting behind the wheel like this.”
He shrugs. “I’m really good at it! I do it all the time.”
“Holy shit,” you whisper, shaking your head at him in awe. “You fucking suck, you know that?”
His brow furrows in confusion. “What? What do you mean?”
“I mean,” you start, jaw setting in anger. “You’ve ignored me all night. You didn’t show up at my house on time to take pictures. You tried to skip prom to makeout with me in your car. Not to mention, you didn’t even ask me to prom. You told me yesterday that you would pick me up tonight. And now you want to drive me home and you can’t even stand up straight!?
Ryan stares at you for a long moment before the corner of his mouth turns up in a smirk. “Are you playing hard to get?”
You sigh exasperatedly. “You already got me! I was literally eating out of your palm for two whole months. I can’t believe I let myself be so stupid... Now I never want to see you ever again!”
He frowns. “It’s because of that Taeri kid, isn’t it?”
“What? No, no--...” It’s at that moment that you look back into the gym, spotting your best friend dancing with his date. He looks so stupid; he might even be the worst dancer you’ve ever met. So why does the sight of him make your heart swell? “His name’s Taerae. And he’s my best friend. That apparently likes someone else and never told me.”
You turn back to Ryan to find him staring back at you, wide-eyed. “Damn,” he says, shaking his head. “You’re in love with your weird friend.”
“I am not!” You protest, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “And he’s not weird, he’s just... Okay, yeah he’s weird. But the good kind of weird.”
“Wow. Denial much?” He says, laughing.
Your brow furrows curiously. “Why are you so okay with this? Weren’t you just asking me if I was playing hard to get?”
“It’s cool. You guys would probably make a better match anyway,” he responds with a shrug. “Plus I already hooked up with Steph in the bathroom, so I’m all set for the night if I have to be.”
You sigh, shaking your head in awe of the absolute dickhead standing in front of you. Turning on your heel and walking towards the exit doors, you mumble, “Goodnight, Ryan.”
“Goodnight, (Y/N),” he calls after you, far too cheerily. “Tell him! Or that girl’s gonna snatch him right up. Have you seen the way she’s been looking at him all night?”
Yeah. I have.
~
It had been a decent night for Taerae. Molly had turned out to be a good enough prom date. They talked about their science project most of the night, but he hadn’t really known what else to say. Besides, he was far too distracted to have any sort of real conversation when he’d been keeping at least one eye on you the whole night.
The pain he felt watching you sit alone at an empty table-- scrolling through your phone, tears rolling down your cheek periodically when you thought no one was watching you.
But Taerae was watching you. How could he not be when the most beautiful person in the room was his best friend?
Of course the one time he’d taken his eyes off you, you’d gone missing.
So far, he’d checked the buffet table, the photobooth, the hallway... He’d even knocked on the bathroom door (and received a very annoyed response from whoever was inside). But you were nowhere to be found.
That’s when he spots Ryan. The star of the soccer team is sitting down at the end of the bathroom hallway, back leaned against a locker. Taerae runs up to him frantically, smelling the liquor on his breath from six feet away.
“Where’s (Y/N)!?” Taerae shouts, shaking Ryan’s shoulders when he doesn’t answer.
The tall boy groans. “How should I know?”
“Because (Y/N)’s your date? Don’t you have any idea where your fucking date is!?”
“Jesus, chill out. This is why I said you were weird,” Ryan mumbles, slurring his words. “(Y/N) went home already.”
“What?” Taerae asks, mind racing. “Did you say something? Did you do something? Did you put your hands on--?”
“Probably, yeah. I don’t remember,” he responds, pointing up at Taerae. “But I thought (Y/N) was gonna tell you. I said to tell you so that that girl... doesn’t...”
Before he can finish his entirely incoherent sentence, Ryan has slumped over onto his side and fallen asleep.
“Tell me what?” Taerae asks; attempting to shake him awake. But it’s no use. “For christ’s sake...”
He turns around, about to run back towards the gym, but instead he comes face to face with his own prom date.
“Oh, Molly, I--,” he starts, but the girl in front of him cuts him off quickly.
“Go,” she says simply, the knowing smile on her face confirming to Taerae that she’s well aware of what’s going on. “Go get (Y/N).”
Taerae sighs. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. This is not cool of me at all.”
“No, it’s not,” Molly says with a laugh. “But I knew you liked (Y/N) the whole time. Once Dohyun opens his mouth, it’s hard to get him to shut it.”
Taerae smiles. “I always knew Dohyun would spill all my secrets one day.”
Molly shrugs. “It’s okay actually. Because tonight made me realize I kind of like Dohyun way more than you anyway. He’s more my type. He actually laughs at my chemistry jokes.”
“Oh, uh,” Taerae falters, eyebrows raising in shock. Dohyun? More her type? Taerae didn’t know that Dohyun was anyone’s type. Not that Taerae thought he was anyone’s type either. “Yeah, I guess I’m more of a biology guy.”
Molly hums. “Do you think you could put in a good word for me then?”
“Yeah,” he agrees, nodding absentmindedly. “Yeah, sure.”
“No hard feelings, then?” Molly asks, smiling up at him.
“No, none at all, I guess,” Taerae agrees-- though the entirely absurd thought of someone using him to get to Dohyun is still eating away at the back of his brain. “You’re okay if I leave now? Do you have a ride home?”
Molly nods happily. “I’ll see you on Monday! Don’t forget the Chapter 13 exam,” she says, walking back down the hallway towards the gym.
“And tell me how it goes with (Y/N)!”
~
You’re face down on your bed, having flopped there in a puddle of tears as soon as you’d gotten home and changed into your pajamas. Your dad had picked you up and you’d driven home in uncomfortable silence apart from your quiet sniffling. You’re currently subsisting on an entirely separate plane of existence-- one with excessive tears and nothing else.
But a rattling at your window startles you, causing you to jump up to see what’s making the sound. You’re even more startled when you realize that the sound is actually that of Taerae fiddling with the latch on your window frame.
You run to the window, unlocking the latch and pushing it open. You whisper-shout at your idiotic best friend, “What the fuck are you doing!?”
“Remember when I used to do this when I lived next door? Before we moved?” He replies, completely out of breath and barely managing to hang onto the vines of ivy running down the side of your house.
“Taerae, you moved when we were ten years old! You weighed at least 30 kilograms less than you do now. Are you crazy!?” Grabbing onto his arms and pulling him through the window, he lands with an ungracious thud on your bedroom floor.
“Huh,” he says, panting to catch his breath as he lies flat out on his back on your beige carpet. “I used to be in really good shape then. Maybe I should start working out.”
You sit down next to him, your back leaning against the side of your bed. You look at the right leg of his suit pants, finding a wet spot on the knee. He must’ve fallen before he successfully climbed up to your window.
He looks just as pretty lying here like this as he had all night-- only now, he looks a bit more like the Taerae you were used to. His hair had fallen into his eyes a bit more and he must’ve switched out his contact lenses for his glasses on his way here. Maybe your best friend had always been this beautiful... Maybe you’d just never taken the time to notice before.
Your eyes widen suddenly. “Taerae, what are you doing here? Where’s Molly?”
He sighs annoyedly. “Ask Dohyun.”
“What?” You ask, brow furrowing in confusion. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Never mind,” he says, rolling his eyes. “It’s a long story.”
You frown. “Prom isn’t even over yet. Why did you leave?”
“Because Ryan told me you left,” he answers, finally sitting up to look at you. “I needed to make sure you were okay.”
“Well, you could’ve texted me,” you respond, looking around you for your phone.
Taerae points to your desk and you turn to see your phone sitting on the corner of it. “You weren’t answering.”
“Oh,” you say softly, eyes falling to your lap. “I guess I wasn’t.”
“Look at me,” Taerae requests suddenly and you reluctantly oblige. You know you must look absolutely insane. Hair out of place, eyes red and puffy and face blotchy from crying. He smiles at you sadly again, just like he had been the whole night. “I know you’re not okay. You can be upset. You know I won’t judge you.”
His words are all you need for the tears to start flowing again. In less than a second, Taerae’s arms have wrapped around you; holding you tightly in his embrace. It’s comforting, but at the same time it’s not. Not if he knew the real reason you’d been crying so much.
“He doesn’t deserve you, (Y/N),” he says, hand finding its way to the back of your head to pet your hair. “I’m so, so sorry that he treated you this way. He was never worth your time.”
You swallow back your tears, before pulling away from Taerae. Your arms still tangled up with his, you say finally, “I know.”
He stares at you for a moment before that sad smile returns. “You should know. I’m glad that you know. He doesn’t deserve any of your tears.”
“They’re not for him.” The truth falls from your lips before you can chicken out. You brace for the instant regret that should come with saying these words, but it doesn’t come. Instead, you feel the beginnings of relief.
Taerae’s head tilts to the side questioningly. “What--... What do you mean?”
Your bottom lip tucks between your teeth and you bite it hard to dissolve the anxiety in your chest. “I wasn’t crying over him.”
“Oh...” He says softly, utter confusion written all over his face. “So... You... Okay, no, I don’t get it.”
Of course Taerae didn’t get it. He had a wonderful night with the girl he likes. And the person who’d ruined it for him was you.
“Oh, I just remembered that Ryan said you wanted to tell me something?” Taerae says, brow furrowed curiously. “Or that he told you to tell me something? I dunno. He wasn’t making much sense right before he passed out.”
“I like someone else,” you blurt; the rush of adrenaline causing you to stand up and find something to busy yourself with before your nails dig holes into your palms. You walk over to your record player, turning it on and dropping the needle on whatever album is already loaded. When the sound flows from the speakers, you realize it’s an R&B album you picked up from a vintage thrift shop across town last week.
Taerae stands up, too-- recognizing the tension in your voice. “You do?”
You nod, avoiding his gaze. “Mmhmm.”
“That’s... That’s great, (Y/N),” he encourages, but there’s a hint of reluctance in his voice. “I just hope whoever it is, they’re much nicer to you.”
“He’s really nice to me, actually,” you confirm, finally turning around to look at Taerae again. You catch a glimpse of sadness in his eyes before he shifts his focus down to the floor.
It’s now or never.
“Even when I steal his sweet potato fries.”
There’s a lag in his response. It takes a full ten seconds for Taerae to look up at you and, when he does, his eyes are wide and his lips are parted in shock. He’s so silent that you’re suddenly sure you’ve made a terrible mistake.
You clear your throat awkwardly. “I’m really sorry; maybe I shouldn’t’ve said that. I know you like Molly and I’m sorry you left prom early to check on me and I know I’ve been so annoying these past couple months and maybe it’s not fair of me to say any of this but when you made that poster for her and it had those Royal Azaleas on it-- that’s my favorite flower, how could you do that, you insensitive piece of--.”
For the last couple moments of your insane rambling, Taerae had been stepping towards you-- closing the gap between you and him quickly before finally cupping your face in his hands and connecting your lips in a particularly unskilled kiss.
When he pulls back, he’s blinking at you with innocent eyes; a blush heating his cheeks.
“Was that your first kiss?” You ask, a small smile turning up the corners of your lips. Taerae’s bottom lip has found its way between his teeth and he’s biting it hard to alleviate his nervous energy; hands dropping to his sides. He just nods in response.
Your right hand raises to his jaw now; left hand resting on his shoulder. Pulling him in to kiss you again, you say softly, “Just follow me for a second.”
When your lips are on Taerae’s again, you squeeze his shoulder gently to get him to relax. He responds to this, letting you lead until he feels confident enough to match you. And once he does...
You’re ready to kick yourself for not falling for him sooner.
“It was for you,” he says softly in between kisses. “I made it for you.”
You pull back to look at him. “What?”
“The poster. The promposal,” Taerae clarifies. “It had your favorite flowers on it, because it was for you.”
Your eyebrows raise as the truth sinks in. Taerae had been trying to ask you to prom yesterday; that’s why he was acting so weird. And Dohyun had obviously been enlisted to help.
“You wanted to go so badly,” he explains. “I know not with me, but I just wanted to try and make you happy anyway.”
A sad laugh escapes you. “Tell me honestly: why are you letting me confess to you right now? Do I really deserve it after all I must’ve put you through?”
Taerae shakes his head. “You definitely don’t,” he affirms before grinning at you. Finally those perfect dimples are on display just for you. “But I’m such a sucker for you. Those sweet potato fries only cost a dollar, you know?”
“I know,” you whisper, grabbing the collar of his navy suit jacket and pulling him in once more. You kiss him sweetly and his arms snake their way around your waist in response. “They just taste better coming from your tray.”
“I don’t even like them,” he says, kissing you again; a smirk on his lips. “I just get them so you’ll steal them from me.”
~
*** 🌶️ INSERT SPICY CUT SCENE HERE -- MINORS DNI -- CONTINUE READING BELOW FOR ENDING (and read below after finishing cut scene) 🌶️ ***
~
“(Y/N)?”
Your mother calling you from the other side of your door jolts you, sending you and Taerae scrambling off each other on your bed-- where you haven’t really let each other breathe for the past twenty minutes.
“If Taerae’s sleeping over, can you tell him to turn his headlights off, please?” That’s all your mom says before her footsteps travel back down the stairs; a hint of a smirk in her voice.
Taerae’s eyes widen, his hands searching his pockets for his keys. When he doesn’t find them, he smiles at you sheepishly. “Oops.”
“So stealthy of you,” you tease, hitting his chest lightly as you attempt to catch your breath. He grabs your hand, pulling you back into him and reattaching your lips. Before your mind goes blank again, you pull back. “Go turn your car off!”
“Fine,” he sighs, annoyedly. Pushing himself up off the bed with his hands, he finally stands up and walks towards the window. “Here I go. Just like you asked.”
You walk over to him, grabbing his shoulders from behind and turning him towards your bedroom door. “No more scaling buildings for tonight, King Kong.”
“Really? King Kong? Couldn’t have said something sexier like Spiderman or?”
Before he reaches for the doorknob, you turn him back to face you. Raising up on your toes cutely, you press one more kiss to his lips. “I just don’t really like spiders.”
“That’s right,” he says, palm cupping your cheek. “Giant gorilla it is, then.”
“Now go turn your car off so we can get back to what we were doing...”
Taerae’s hand flies to the doorknob; throwing the door open and running to the stairs as fast as he possibly can.
Just before he disappears down the stairs, he turns back to you-- pounding his chest with his fists lightly like the cutest, lamest gorilla to ever exist.
“This idiot,” you whisper, shaking your head.
I must really love him.
#zerobaseone#zerobaseone x reader#zerobaseone taerae#zerobaseone fics#zerobaseone angst#zerobaseone fluff#zerobaseone imagines#zerobaseone drabbles#zerobase1#zb1#zb1 imagines#zb1 fics#zb1 angst#zb1 fluff#zb1 drabbles#zb1 taerae#kim taerae#kim tae rae#kim taerae fics#kim taerae imagines#kim taerae drabbles#kim taerae fluff#kim taerae angst#kim taerae x reader#taerae x reader#taerae#taerae fluff#taerae angst#taerae imagines#taerae drabbles
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Sweet Music Playing In The Dark (Be Still, My Foolish Heart) [ Part Four ]
[ Part 1 ] [ Part 2 ] [ Part 3 ]
{ I'm 100% not writing these in chronological order. I just write them as the ideas come and they don't come in order of the story. Just in moments inspired by the songs. Hopefully y'all still enjoy them!!! Cuz i really love this little story. Even though it's like a little patchwork quilt of a thing. 💛💙💛 }
🍒🍒🍒
They've been together for a bit. Their relationship is still private. For the most part. But they're very publicly friends. Always together and laughing and adorable. But in private, they're dating. Taking it slow. Cuz touring life is bonkers and they're both busy writing and doing their music.
But Eddie starts seeing some shit from Steve's fans. Like, an oddly puritanical little sub group. That the other fans are always like "no thank you. Please don't associate with us OR steve please." And They've been posting things about eddie "corrupting" steve and saying shit like, "Eddie's making him go down a path he'd never choose on his own".
And that Eddie's a cult leader and indoctrinating steve. And some even say shit about robin and chrissy too. That they're like, Eddie's cult wives. And they sent him some of those comments and Chrissy was like,
"Robin's gagging. She loves you. But she's gagging." And Eddie laughs so hard he almost falls out of his chair. But he takes the comments and shows Steve.
Because he is not social media guy. He's never on there. And he reads some of them and just keeps frowning and frowning and eddie just curls into his side and is like,
"hey. Its okay. I don't care that they're saying that. I play up the cult thing. You know that." Steve did know that. Loved it. Bought Eddie a shirt that said "cult leader" on it. It's a pink crop top and Eddie adores it. It's his favorite shirt. But steve is like,
"some of these are really mean Ed's." Some of them even mentioned Nancy and how she was so good for steve and so pure and blah blah blah. Eddie snorts VERY loud at that, says,
"did they miss her cheating on you? Just ignoring that are they?" And steve frowns more, says,
"that was never really said publicly." And Eddie's takes his hand, laces their fingers together and says,
"People know Steve. They saw through her. Okay? Just like I did. Your real fans love you. And some of them even love me now." He says, cheeky glint in his eyes. And then he's smiling too, all big and sharp and Steve's like,
"i know that face... what are you planning?" And he's already almost smiling himself, knows its gonna be good. And eddie just wiggles his eyebrows, says,
"I had this idea... for a video. And the idea wasn't originally to have YOU in the video. But I've been thinking, since reading all that shit. That maybe we should have some fun." He leans closer, presses soft kisses to Steve's cheek, the corner of his mouth.
"What did you have in mind?" Steve asks, his eyes closing as he sighs into Eddie's soft touches. Eddie hums, kisses him again, nuzzles into his cheek and kisses down his neck. Pushes steve into his couch and tells him all about it.
~°~
What Eddie had in mind, was this. First, he, Steve, robin, and chrissy are all gonna be in the video. And the CC boys, playing in the background.
Eddie has a warehouse that he bought to make his videos, and others videos, and he does band photoshoots there sometimes. Has done several for Robin and Chrissy and a few for some other artists he's friends with. He loves doing weird little videos with just his friends.
So they go there, the set is literally just a ton of white cloth drapped everywhere. White on white on white. The band is playing all white instruments, the background is white velvet curtains.
Chrissy is in a beautiful white dress. Perfect and pristine, her hair all done with curls, her nails a pretty pearl. Robin's in a snug white suit. Waistcoat and all. Her hair slicked back.
Steve is in fancy white dress pants, a white tank under an open white shirt sleeved button down, Eddie let him do whatever he wanted with his hair, its neat and swoopy and perfect. The CC boys are all in matching white mechanic jumpsuits, white lines painted across their eyes.
Eddie had told them all the required colors and let them dress how they wanted. Told them what would be happening to the clothes too, so they knew.
And Eddie, he's in black skinny jeans, ripped at the knees, and is favorite pink crop top, CULT LEADER, printed in black across his chest in bold letters.
Steve can't take his eyes off him. Eddie makes his rounds, making sure everything is ready. And then walks up to Steve.
"You sure you wanna do this?" He asks, hands on Steve's hips as Chrissy and Robin lean against each other as they wait. Steve just stares at him, bites his lip, and nods.
"Yeah. Let's do this." His eyes are full of excitement and Eddie matches it, his cheeks dimpling as he nods.
They release the video a week later.
~°~
The video opens with Eddie and the band just silhouetted against the background. The music plays and the lights come up when Eddie claps twice and he starts singing, moving and jumping in place to the beat. And when he says,
"is this what you wanted?" The camera jump cuts to Steve and Robin and Chrissy all standing off to the side, stock still, looking a bit like they're in a trance as they answer,
"no!" Eddie sings,
"you want some more?" And they all turn in unison to look at him when they answer,
"yes" and then the lights go up even more, the bright white around them all, their clothes, the velvet, all of it seeming to shimmer as they dance around, moving closer and closer to Eddie as he sings. Eddie looks directly into the camera when he sings,
"who's keeping score?" And then the chorus hits and his attention is all on steve, his hand moving up Steve's neck as he sings,
"cuz youve got a taste now." And steve leans into his touch, looking helpless to it. Robin does the same to chrissy, her and Eddie in synch as they draw in their partners, touching them and moving with them as Eddie sings about no one loving him like he loves him, steve smirking, his eyes closed, letting eddie touch and move him however he likes, and then Eddie sings,
"but you should've known, that this was gonna end in tears" and "blood" starts falling on them all, red stains blooming across the sea of white, all their clothes bleeding red as Eddie screams the next parts. Steve and the girls jumping and dancing and singing in the bloodrain, Eddie crooks his finger at steve when he sings,
"now come here and give me a hug" and steve saunters over, his hair dripping red as he falls into Eddie's arms. Eddie lowers him to the ground for the next part, his fingers moving and dancing across Steve's throat as he sings,
"i got my hands around your throat. I love way you choke." He dips down further, his lips brushing Steve's as he looks up at eddie, adoration in his eyes, both of them dripping blood as eddie sings,
"Cause i am yours and you are mine, I'll never let you go" right against Steve's lips, and Steve fucking arches into it, his palms flat on the gound.
Chrissy and Robin are fucking waltzing through the blood behind them, their feet kicking at the puddles of blood they glide through, moving across the "stage" as the camera pans after them, capturing the CC boys as well, all of them stained red, their instruments dripping and splashing as they play their hearts out. .
And then eddie is standing, singing the verse again as he moves his hands over steve, and Steve moves with his hands, like a puppet under Eddie's control, dancing and rolling in the blood on the floor. And then Eddie screams,
"GET THE FUCK UP" and steve is on his feet in an instant. Dancing and spinning through the guitar solo until it stops and he freezes, making like he's going to fall back to the floor before Eddie catches him in his arms.
Steve straightens, Eddie spins him and he and drapes himself over Eddie's back, Chrissy does the same to Robin behind them. Steve's hands moving over Eddie's chest and up his neck languidly, slow, with a purpose, dragging his hands through the blood thats covering them all now, Chrissy drops her head back onto Robin's shoulder as Robin tucks her arm loosly around her neck. Eddie stares straight at steve when he sings,
"nobody love you like i love you, oh my dear." And then they both drop their gazes to the camera, looking right at the audience as eddie sings and then screams,
"you should have known. This was gonna end in tears." Steve dropping his chin on Eddie's shoulder as he mirrors Robin's hold on Chrissy.
Eddie's voice goes quiet at the end, him and steve and the girls genlty swaying as the blood falling drenches them, their clothes and everything around them soaked a dark red now.
Eddie and Steve all tangled together just like Robin and Chrissy as the screen fades to black. And just before you loose sight of them all you can see them all laughing together right before Steve tightens his hold on Eddie's neck and pulls him into a kiss.
~°~
They release the video and all their fans go fucking NUTS. Partially because Eddie posted it and captioned it,
"hey. Me and my boyfriend made you guys something." And he puts a little kissy emoji. And everyone FREAKS out. And of course the purity people show up and start being like,
"see! See! His shirt even says it! He's a cult leader!" And people start saying steve looks drugged. Which eddie immediately shuts down and blocks them. But the CCboys go into the comments, cuz they're tired of it. They love steve, and eddie. And them together. And they're like,
"y'all realize they made this video BECAUSE of you nutballs right???" and chrissy and robin just respond to their comment with,
"right???" And like fifteen laughing emojis.
And steve and eddie just turn off their phones and eddie tugs steve into bed and they lay there, just breathing together. And steve nuzzles into his chest and smiles and says,
"at least most of the blood came out of your shirt." Eddie hums, moves his fingers into Steve's hair and says,
"i knew it would. Just a little darker now." He presses a kiss into Steve's hair too, for good measure. Steve wraps his arm tighter around eddie, cuddles closer, whispers,
"just like me." And kisses Eddie's chest as he laughs, tugs on Steve's hair so that Steve's looking up at him and says,
"just like you. Dark and corrupted. Just the way i like you." Eddie teases, both of them laughing into their kiss as Steve drapes himself over Eddie.
When they turn their phones back on they're met by several croped headlines sent to them, and marked up and memed, by Chrissy and Robin. Followed by a text that says,
"congratulations on the big gay announcement! Thanks for letting us be a part of it!" Followed by every single heart emoji they could find and a few edits of themselves with hearts for eyes.
They laugh so hard steve snorts into Eddie's shoulder and eddie almost chokes on the chocolate chip pancakes steve had made him.
Eddie had corrupted him into making breakfast in bed. If only his fans fucking knew.
#sweet music#sweet music part four#steddie#steddie fic#steddie ficlet#steve harrington x eddie munson#steve x eddie#rockstar!eddie munson#musician!steve harrington#mine#my writing#my fic#Spotify
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Fresco Feelings
word count:2792
summary: It seems silly to make a birthday present for someone that you never met, its less silly to give someone that loved them something to remember them by.
warnings: Peter talks about May and is a little sad but that’s about the worst of it.
authors note: I love the idea of secret messages in public and i’m also constantly obsessed with the secret language of flowers. Both of these have combined into a problem which I could only solve by way of writing a quiet little gift giving fic for pete. Can be read as romantic or platonic because I'm still not sure exactly how old Pete is in Canon and I'm not comfy writing explicitly romantic stories for him when I'm an adult and he's a minor 😅
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“You hoping a spray a day will keep the doctor away?” Unexpected voices should startle you, but it’s hard to be scared of the one good guy swinging around your city. You pause in your detail work of the mural of Doctor Strange to look over your shoulder at Spiderman.
“Worth a shot, right? What’s up webs?” The vigilante sits on the lid of the dumpster behind you, legs swinging slightly where they hang over the edge. He looks casual but given how cold out it is you’re sure the guy is freezing his ass off through that thin costume of his.
“Nothing much, it’s slow tonight.” You already know that, there’s a police scanner in your pocket that you use to keep up to date on how close you are to getting caught. Something bought from pure practicality and which had no relation to the colorful man behind you and trying to figure out if he was being safe in the city.
“So are you going to arrest me then?” It wouldn’t be hard. Your hands and jeans are covered in the exact same shades as the cans rolling about your feet. The smell of spray paint lingered in your clothes like perfume and while you hadn’t signed the artwork you’d have a hard time keeping a straight face if they asked you what you thought about it.
Hell, this wasn’t even the first time he had caught you. You had lost count of how many times the hero had dropped down from the sky to critic your line art or help you come up with a better punchline to attach to it. This wasn’t one of your funniest pieces, more for the kids that passed the area on the way to school than to make a statement.
“Nah, it’s not that slow. Not to mention that last time I tried to help with bringing in a case of vandalism I accidentally stepped into some family drama and it just wasn’t worth the hassle.” There’s a wince in his words, a scrunch of his face and shoulders that you can see from the corner of your eye as you pick up painting again.
“So what you’re telling me is I have free reign over my alleys?”
“Don’t push it, like I said, it’s been slow.” His laugh is a nice sound even if its quieter than normal. In fact, the longer you listen to him and the more you speak to him the clearer it becomes that something is off. Maybe its just the cold of the dumpster?
“Okay, I think that’s about it for Strange.” The mural is painted in messy strokes and colorful blocks, the wizard sitting in one chair reading a newspaper with a towel wrapped about his head and a hand reaching through a portal which connects just next to him to a Starbucks cup on a counter. No need for a caption, too dangerous to sign your name when you poke fun at heroes so much. The cans are easy to gather and throw into your backpack and the whole while Spiderman sits quietly and watches you.
You can see your breathe in the air as you turn to face him again and its unsettling to see how still he is. The vigilante’s eyes are hidden from the suit he wore but his posture is rigid and focused entirely on the mural you had just finished. He doesn’t move until you cough and tilt your head ever so slightly towards the exit in an unspoken question and even then Spiderman’s steps are quiet when they join yours in walking down the street.
“Do you know him?” The vigilante jumps just a bit at the unexpected question, an endearing sort of move. It takes him another minute to realize what you’re asking and by the time he speaks again, voice shaky from some emotion you can’t puzzle out with your brain so cold, you’ve reached the last location for the night.
Well, in honest the Strange mural was supposed to be the only mural for the night but you’d been eyeing this side of a building for a while and Spiderman didn’t seem to want to be alone. You didn’t want to be alone either.
“I used to.” The only noise other than his voice is the shaking of a can of paint. You’re far enough from the main streets that traffic is distant and everyone in the apartment buildings down the street are full of citizens either sleeping or pretending to so they don’t draw attention to themselves. “He seems strict but he means well.”
“Well he can mean well far away from me. Those portals of his freak me out.” You see the mask move, just a ghost of an expression beneath it but combined with the quiet exhale of breath its nice to pretend that he’s smiling.
“You freak me out.” The comment holds no weight when he holds the can you hand him while you grab the next. Time passes slowly, like syrup dripping from a bottle. The blue is a shade brighter than you’d like, but with the red its still recognizable.
“So what’s really going on Webs?” He jumps again. It’s not as endearing this time but whatever trance he had fallen into is broken enough for him to hand you the red again. “I know I’m a delight to be around and all but if you sit any longer I’m going to be forced to ask you to help with this color blocking.”
“It’s my aunt’s birthday today.” Spiderman’s voice is small and there’s a morose tone about it that makes you uncomfortable. It wouldn’t if he were daredevil or hawkeye even but to hear your friendly neighborhood hero - because fuck the cops he was more of a hero than they were - sets your nerves on edge.
Still, you don’t look at him, just keep pushing forwards with your art like you’ve always done.
“Oh, that’s great how old is she?” The silence is enough of an answer in and of itself. Spiderman stands just a touch too still next to you and the careful casualty of your companionship slips away when you’re not looking. His breath is quiet in the night but his sigh is not. The puddle at his feet ripples when the vigilante shifts, just enough movement for you to nod in assurance that you understood.
The silence ends up winding its way around the two of you like an affectionate cat may your ankles. The gentle hush of wind scraping over cement could be mistaken for a half hearted purr as Spiderman watches you pick up a can of green paint and begin to work again.
“Do you want to talk about her?” He makes a bit of a startled noise, but doesn’t jump. Progress is progress you suppose. “I mean, I never met her so anything you wanted to share would be news to me.”
“I don’t know.” It never gets easier to see a hero casual, watch him turn his back to the wall you’re working on and lean against it like he’d just slipped out for a cigarette. It’s your turn to hum then, pausing in your work long enough to look where he’s curled his shoulders in, tucked his head down to his chest.
The man feels cold when you rest your hand on his shoulder.
“You don’t have to webs, but if you wanted to reminisce on something happy I’d love to know about her. You could talk about her favorite flowers or your inside jokes. Talk about that annoying quirk of hers that you hated but miss now that she’s gone.” The words are soft as silk when you drape them on his shoulders. “I won’t push if you really don’t want to talk about it, but if you want someone to listen I’m in no hurry.”
Spiderman swallows hard, looks up at the sky, and speaks.
“She loved yellow Hibiscus flowers.” His voice sounds younger then it ever has. It’s easy to forget sometimes that he’s not much older than you are, that he just started showing up in the city a few years ago.
“Really?” If the man doesn’t like your hand on his shoulder he’s made no move to voice his displeasure. The streetlights catch on the two of you and the cans of paint but not enough for you to make out an expression through the fabric with which to help direct your response. The careful curiosity seems the right choice though given he starts to speak again.
“Yeah, always tried to grow them on the windowsill of our apartment but a week into their lives they would start to wilt.” When he moves to crouch down you follow and your hand seems glued to the fabric for the amount of effort it takes you to pull it back to yourself.
“Did it ever occur to you guys that the flowers might be wilting because they’re tropical plants and we’re in new york?” Somewhere in the distance a dog barks and it almost covers the noise of amusement that Spiderman lets out.
“No I usually just blamed it on her cooking.” A picture starts to take shape as he speaks with fondness. One filled with warmth and color that fostered his sense of humor and likely his sense of right and wrong at the same time. “The landlord threatened to remove our fire alarms if she set them off one more time.”
“But I’ll bet she was funny, right?” You don’t say that she had to have been because she was related to the web head, that might be too personal. If there was one thing that Spiderman had made clear in his visits and talks with you it was that as friendly as he was he didn’t do personal very well.
“She certainly thought she was.” The fragility is back and you’re sure that if you could see his face you would find a far off look in his eyes.
“Well so do you and your humor is hit or miss so-”
“Hey!” you’re rewarded for your humor with a gentle knocking of his shoulder against yours and an almost normal tone again. It had seemed right at the time to ask about his aunt but now grief had started to slip its way between your ribs. If not grief for her, than grief on Spiderman’s behalf. Grief at family lost, love unexpressed. You knew something about that last one in particular.
You stand up first. It’s hard to sit with the pressure creeping in on your heart. The vigilante remains crouched at your feet as you go back to spraying colors onto the wall. light blues and yellows that look nothing short of flat compared to the shaded blobs of green.
“What are you painting?” His voice isn’t as warm as usual but it’s better than when he made his doctor strange joke.
“You’ll see.”
“I hate when you say that.” This time he rises and moves to stand behind you. If he had the urge to he could rest his head on your shoulder and watch you work you can feel his presence so close. You try not to think about what gloved hands would feel like on your hip or wrapped around your waist as you worked.
“Oh come on, I stand by my artwork.” There’s a crack in your voice as you try to focus on shaping the colors into something more recognizable. If the hero catches it he thankfully does not mention it.
“I know you do, you repainted the same Steve Rogers joke five times.” Spiderman’s teasing is enough to break the fluster that had taken hold of you. When you look over your shoulder at him, can in hand, you’re certain that he’s smiling back at you.
“I would have stopped at three if they hadn’t put it in the papers.” He laughs again and it sounds even better than before, smaller than usual but no less kind. He hadn’t followed you as you worked until a few pieces after that but apparently the hero had found an equal amount of amusement in the comparison of Rodgers to some sort of turtle.
“I’ll let the bugle know next time I see them.” You turn back to your work and finally begin to do the outlining on the center of the piece. It used to make you nervous to start adding final touching with an audience but it was hard to sit still with webs so close to you.
“Oh yeah that’ll go over well.” You murmur, “spider-menance consorts with local vandal. God he hates you.”
“Don’t remind me.” The man groans and then he does drop his head to rest on your shoulder, hiding his face in the material of your hoodie as his hands rest on your upper arms. It’s nothing more than a dramatic overreaction to thinking about the bugle, you know that logically. Your heart, however, does not and has ceased to beat at all at the sudden contact.
“Hey can I ask you a question?” You speak near instantly, desperate to distract him from the point of contact he was making with you and he way that even through the material of his mask and your hoodie you could feel the slope of his nose, could start to imagine what he may look like.
“Uhm, yeah?” the hero raises his head enough to rest just his chin on your shoulder, hands still loose on your upper arms. There’s a hesitance in his voice that makes you worried he’s going to pull away.
“What?”
“Are you sleeping with that photographer that keeps taking your photo?” There’s a sputtering of noise that escapes him and when he does step back it’s clearly in shock. You miss his touch, but you take some sliver of delusional comfort in the idea that he felt comfortable to rest on you in the first place.
“That Peter something, he takes all the photos of you for the bugle? The internet is convinced you two are sleeping together since he’s the only one that can get you in any half decent shots.” It’s not the question most people would ask but it seems to have been the right choice again. You’d love to ask what he does for a living or to hear more about his aunt but it’s good to hear him laugh and stumble over his words like this was any other night.
“You have one of those?” There’s no glance over your shoulder but you’re certain that he does that familiar headshake that lets you know you’ve amused him but he doesn’t want you to know that. For someone with a mask, he’s always seemed like an open book.
“No, no.” Not to mention that it means you can stop figuring out if you need to contact the photographer to try and weasle information out of him. There are so many landmines in conversation you don't realize are there until you've already stepped on them. “I mean don’t get me wrong I have nothing against the guy he’s just not my type. I only let him take photos because he always catches my good side.”
“Okay that’s it, I’m leaving.” The bulk of the painting is done enough for the hero to know that he’s made his way onto the wall again, but you’ve avoided doing the detail work on his surroundings. The same parts of you that feel deflated at his exit also take comfort in knowing that he’ll be surprised tomorrow when he sees the finished work.
“Stay safe out there, okay?” Is all you can manage. You like to think that he hears the unspoken I care about you. I’m sorry for your loss. I hope you know that I’m here for you.
“Safe is my middle name,” His footsteps are slow as he moves down the street. “Make sure you head home soon, okay? If you get sick they might take the opportunity to paint over Steve again.”
“They wouldn’t dare.” His laugh disappears into the night far slower than he does. Long after the red and blue figure has slipped into the dark of night you can still hear it in your head, rich and real as it settles in you.
You hear it again in your head when the photos of your newest mural begin to circulate online. Including a particularly well shot photo by Peter Parker and an opening sentence by a writer you don’t care about aside from the fact that they misspell the scientific names for the hibiscus flowers and forget me nots that you so carefully detailed in the night.
#Peter Parker x reader#Spiderman x reader#Peter Parker x you#Spiderman x you#Peter Parker fluff#Spiderman fluff#Peter Parker imagines
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congrats on 600 followers love! <33
Shes underwater again: poly!marauders x shy!fem!reader on their 1 year anniversary? <33
Anniversary
Poly! marauders x shy! Fem! Reader
Summary: Y/n’s boys have something special planned for their first anniversary
Warnings: pure good old-fashioned romantic fluff, kissing, mentions of food and sex
A/n: 1.5k words, thank you so much! I really love writing this, I also made sure it was true poly where the boys have lil moments with each other too x
Navigation | Marauders Masterlist | Celebration
It had been one year since you and the boys got together, one year since you had shyly and, at the time, mortifyingly told them that you fancied them. You sadly couldn’t the day off work but Sirius had told you this morning, when he made you breakfast in bed, that he and the others were taking you out for dinner later
As you got back to the flat it was in complete darkness “Siri?” you call out “Rem? Jamie?” you chewed on your lip as you received no response
Dropping your bag and hanging up your coat, you then put the chain on the door before flicking on the light…but nothing happened, you flicked it a few more times in case it miraculously worked but you pouted. Was there a power cut? Maybe that’s where the boys were, maybe they were repairing it…two purebloods and a half-blood with questionable handyman skills, okay that might be a stretch
“Boys?” you say warily as you walk further into the apartment, you were about to call again when you saw something on the floor…petals?
Your heart fluttered as you rounded the corner to see more petals leading through the living room, as you got to the stairs the petals branched in different directions, one to the kitchen, dining room, one to the study and the other upstairs to the bedroom. They petals shifted from white to three different colours, red leading to the bedroom, yellow to the study and purply pink to the kitchen.
You headed into the kitchen first, pushing the door open you saw James standing there in a suit “Hello sweetheart” he greets with a dazingly smile
“Hi Jamie” you say quietly, heart bursting at the beautiful meal prepared and one of your gorgeous boyfriends
He studies your reaction, smiling as he walks over to you “Happy anniversary” he whispers as he tilts your head up, gently caressing your cheek before he kisses you sweetly
“Happy anniversary Jamie…this is so pretty” you look around the room your arms going to wrap around him in a tight embrace “Thank you” you mumble into his chest “I love you so much”
He kisses your forehead as you pull back “I love you too sweets but you still two doors to go…don’t worry it’s all enchanted to stay warm” he winks making your face feel hot something he notices kissing your cheeks “On you go” he turns you around patting your bum to which you let out a little squeak earning a chuckle
You walked slowly towards the stairs again, figuring one of the boys is at the end of each, and knowing them, Sirius was in the bedroom and once you entered that you probably wouldn’t be coming back out so you headed into the study
“Rem?” you say as the door opens
“Hi love” he smiles knowing you had figured who was behind the doors
As you walk in you see little blue lights floating around the room, almost like little stars before your eyes land on him. Wearing the jumper you bought him for your one month along with suspenders which he knew did things to you
“Rem this is beautiful” you look round the room while walking over to him “Oh” you yelp quietly as he yanks you towards him
His hands land on your hips “You’re beautiful” he whispers just before he kisses you “Happy anniversary love” he pushes some hair from your face
“Happy anniversary to you too” you say a little dazed from the rougher kiss, a smile grazing your face
He smiles leaning backwards and grabbing a book, not just any book, it was a sequel you had been waiting to come out “Remmy this isn’t out for another month” you look at the book in shock before your head tilts up to look at him
“We have our ways” he winks at you making you feel more flushed than with James, Remus wasn’t the most inherently flirty but when he did flirt it always sends you and the other boys wild
You hug the book to your chest “I love it Rem…and I love you” you say bashfully
He smiles kissing your nose making it scrunch up in the cute way he just adored “Love you too” he cups your cheeks briefly before sliding the book out of your hand “One more door to go…I’ll put this in a safe place”
You nod moving to walk away before you turn and give him a quick kiss, hearing him chuckle as you scamper away. Your heart was already pounding out of your chest as you got to the bottom of the stairs, you climbed them slowly, when you reached the top you took a breath before opening the door
Peering in you are met with Sirius dressed all in black, wearing a shirt that was barely buttoned up exposing the tattoos you treasured “Well hello darling…oh fuck” he says smoothly, laying on the bed holding his head up with his elbow with one leg bent up, he looked more than mildly seductive until he leaned back and fell off the bed, landing with a small *thump*
Meanwhile downstairs…
“He fell off, didn’t he?” James asks looking at Remus with an enduring smile
Remus nods “Yeah” he cringes before letting out a small laugh
“I’m gonna marry that idiot one day” James says shaking his head with a smile
Remus smirks “I’m marrying two”
James looks over at Remus, poking his cheek with his tough his stare only making the boy smirk more “That’s rather insulting to y/n don’t ya think” he muses
Remus turns to look at him giving him a look “Love you my silly dear” he says as he leans in
“Love you my clever moon” James mummers into Remus’ lips before capturing them properly
Back to the bedroom…
“You okay Siri?” you ask knelt down next to him, pouting as you checked his head
He groans a little “I’m dandy” he chuckles before gently gripping your wrist, making you look at him “Did I ruin the mood?” he asks sincerely
You shake your head “No” his lips tug up “If anything it made me love you more” you lean forward and place a soft kiss to his lips
He tuts “You ain’t get away that easy” he says as he pulls you by the back of the head in for, in his words, a proper kiss
Breaking apart you smile “Happy anniversary Siri”
“Happy anniversary darling” he kisses your cheek
“Did we do a good job?” you both turn your head to see Remus leaning against the door way and James approaching the bed stopping just before it
You nod “This is wonderful” you felt like you could cry, you were so loved
They all smile “You alright?” James looks down to look at Sirius
“So so, just my pride” he chuckles “Maybe you should double check though”
While James moves around and sits on the bed, Remus motions, curling his finger for you to come to him, you stand and walk over, automatically entering his warm embrace “Thank you” he whispers
“For?” you peer up at him chin resting on his chest
He pokes your nose “The expensive Dutch chocolate” he says quietly “You shouldn’t have”
“I wanted to” you beam up at him, letting him capture your lips in a slow tender kiss before you turn your attentions to the other boys
Sirius had climbed onto James’ lap telling him the places he hurt on the way down “This bit is really sore” he points to his lips
You and Remus giggle together as each other as James kisses the corner of Sirius’ lips making him pout cutely “Prongs” he whines “Snog me properly”
“Fine fine” James gives in pulling Sirius in for a long kiss
You turn to Remus, pulling him gently by the hand to the bed to join your other boyfriends. He climbs onto the bed and shuffling up to sit against the headboard, letting you climb over and staddle him.
James and Sirius pull apart, Sirius moving up to sit on one side of Remus and James the other “We having desert first?” Sirius wiggles his eyebrows making you go wide eyed and drop your head into the crook of Remus’ neck
James kisses your temple “Even after a whole year our girls still all shy” he lightly teases
“Leave her alone” Remus wraps his arms around you giving you a squeeze
“Shy ones teaming up here” Sirius eyes Remus before both breaking out in smiles and move in for a loving kiss while James coxes you out of Remus’ neck by peppering kisses down the side of your face
As you pull away you smile at Sirius and Remus, as does James and after waiting of them to pull away you take James’ and Sirius’ hands in yours “You think we could nap before desert?” you bite your lip
All of their eyes light up “Thank merlin, we spent all day arranging and charming the flowers not to wither” Sirius sighs in relief making you giggle
“Wonderful idea sweetheart” James winks at you
“Come on then” Remus smiles at you
Remus scoots down on the bed letting you shift between him and James, your head on his chest while James wraps his arms around your waist and nuzzles his own head into your hair. Sirius rests on the other side on Remus’ chest, chancing a quick kiss with you closing the gap before you all say your ‘goodnights’ and ‘I love yous’, slipping off gently to sleep
#remus x reader#sirius x reader#james potter and reader#marauders and reader#poly!marauders#poly marauders x reader#Remus Lupin#Sirius Black#James Potter#sirius black x you#remus lupin x you#james potter x you#Robyns600Celebration
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*Multiverse of Madness SPOILERS*
Ah, Charles Xavier. Now, I love the X-Men. It got me into Marvel (that and Spider-Man). Patrick Stewart was great playing him in the Fox's X-Men movies, and in MoM. When he shows up, he looks exactly like the Professor X from the 90s animated series. From the suit to the big yellow hover wheelchair (honestly I preferred his previous wheelchairs from the previous movies cause it looks more practical and less clunky) to the wave effects whenever he uses his telepathy, to the FREAKING X-MEN THEME PLAYING WHEN HE FIRST SHOWS UP! It was pure nostalgia bait, and I fell for it. I wish I didn't, cause I had to watch him die again for the third time by Wanda snapping his neck.....how dare you MCU?
HOW FREAKING DARE YOU?!?!
This was what pissed me off the most. I threw my napkin on the floor and slammed my arms on the arm rests in anger nearly hitting my best friend who was sitting next to me. This was nearly my rage quit moment, as I had the urge to walk out, but I didn't.
Xavier was an Alpha-Level Mutant, possesses the most powerful brain in existence, and was supposed to be the world's greatest telepath. He was the only competent member of the Illuminati willing to tell Doctor Strange where he can find the book of Vishanti (even though he didn't set him free), bought time for America and Christine to escape, and tried to free the Wanda that was possessed by MCU Wanda. Only for her to snap his neck which reminded me of his death in the Ultimatum comics where Magneto snapped Xavier's death, which I also hated in the comics.
Yeah, Wanda is really powerful in the comics so of course Charles would struggle. But, I thought it'd be different in the MCU or something. Guess not....it still hurt to see that though.
Honestly, I'm so done with seeing this character die. Sure his last two deaths had an emotional impact with Logan, Storm and the other X-Men, but this was just more anger-inducing because this was just to show how Wanda is a big threat, which okay yeah sure. But, did he had to die like that?! Also, in X-Men Apocalypse, Charles fought Apocalypse in his mindscape but the injuries he had in that fight didn't appear in his physical form. So, would the neck snap still happen physically or at least do major damage to him? Cause I'm confused about that.
This is the third X-Men character that was brought into the MCU (fourth if you count Evan Peters' Quicksilver), and look what they've done. A Quicksilver who dies in a lame way and is forgotten and barely mentioned in years until Wandavision. Hell, Wanda doesn't even bother trying to find her TWIN BROTHER through the multiverse, but her kids that only existed in the hex. Another Quicksilver who isn't Pietro, but another guy for the sake of a boner joke. Wanda, who's a whole can of worms right there that many people here have pointed out so much wrong about her (better than I could). And, Charles Xavier, who was just nostalgia bait and killed off to hype up an antagonist who I don't give a damn about and wants her to go away.
If this is what the MCU has done to those characters, imagine what they'll do to Wolverine, Cyclops, Storm, Rogue, Gambit, Jean, Ice Man, Nightcrawler, Beast, Magneto, Mystique, Deadpool or any other character. If they're done dirty just like the previous ones, then Disney and Marvel Studios shouldn't have gotten their hands on the X-Men. Same for Fantastic Four.
#professor x#charles xavier#x-men#anti dsmom#anti mcu#anti mcu wanda#anti wanda maximoff#mcu critical#charles xavier deserves better#mcu salt
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Would it be okie to ask you to write hcs on cor and drautos falling for the same person and they ended up picking drautos. Breaking poor cors heart
HELL YES anonie!!! I need to say that if I had to chose then only both (I know, I am greedy but look at them! XD)
so let me put you in the situation - you´re working in the Citadel, (unspecific profession)that is in daily contact with both Titus and Cor
it all starts absolutely innocently (compliments there and there from both of them)
fleeting touch from Cor when you brough him a coffee, brief smile from Titus your way (you slowly fell under their charming spell, wishfully thinking that they would reciprocate your feelings)
but why would such handsome and prideful men be interested in you, right? So you tucked your feelings away, after all it wasn´t professional.
But oh my, weren´t you wrong! Those men were crushing hard on you the moment they saw you
When they realised they were in love ... You needed help with something and both of them were at the right time at your service. "Marshal, Captain if it isn´t inapropriate of me, I would like to reward you for your assistance." You took leap of faith and shyly kissed of their cheeks while tiptoeing. You just made those huge dangerous men blush, you know ...
and the realisation that both of them wanted the same person ... let´s just say that war wasn´t only outside Insomnia
You were showered with such exquisite gifts. If one bought you 50 pieces of your favourite flowers that the other had to double it and add something extra (those men have tons of money that just laid on their bank accounts)
and don´t let me start about the over the top dates! Theatre play that was sold out, VIP tickets to your favourite band, romantic dinner on the roof of palace, to name a few ...
both of them were intense in their courting, they even wear tailored suit because of you (Cor even dusted his old Crownsguard uniform, that hugs his form perfectly)
you were realising that even though you spent time with both of them equally ... Titus was the one who occupied your mind and dreams (very pleasant dreams, indeed)
so you called Cor, that you wanted to meet somewhere private
"Cor, you´re wonderful man with such a pure heart, everyone would be happy to be yours truly, but ... I am not that person who will be at your side. I am sorry, but I made my choice. I wish you only the best in life, Cor."
That ... that hurt him so much, it felt like his heart broke in many pieces. He respects of course your decision, but deep down ... he wished it could be him besides you
Cor immerses himself in the work, to forget his shattered heart (still, he makes sure you´re okay, and if Titus isn´t mistreating you)
but would you regret choosing Titus? Only time will tell ...
#ffxv#ffxv kingsglaive#final fantasy xv#anon ask#titus drautos#cor leonis#I am so sad for my boy :( he deserves love too#gender neutral s/o#Cor is like sweet devotion#and Titus is tempting sin
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