#Media Lounge App
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wanna be nearer ✴︎ mv1
genre: 18+, fuck buddies ahhhaha, smut, porn w/o plot basically...
word count: 3.6k
It seems every time you tell yourself to stop, Max comes back into your life and all sense of resolve crumbles. title from this
auds here… hiii :) req'd by SO MANY PEOPLE i can't even start compiling all the asks hahah but if u asked for this here it is! writing's been tuff for me lately but this was the one thing i could continue daily (weird) also there is a case to be made re: max's hottest pictures being like 1 pixel in resolution... hope u all like it!!!
nsfw warnings under the cut!
18+ because... sexual tension, penetrative sex, some vague sexting/a sex tape being watched, praise/dirty talk central, size kink, unprotected sex, handjob (f receiving), max being a meanie
It’s busy today. You haven’t seen him all day.
To be fair, you weren’t necessarily looking—not at first, anyways. How many days had it been since the last time, now? The one in your hotel room? Almost two weeks, you think. The real answer’s blurry in your head, especially when you count the close calls, but this should be a record for you two at this point. Neither of you acknowledge that the only reason you’ve been so good at staying away from each other is because when you’re not roped into the same media junket, you avoid each other at all costs.
The media pen is full; everybody’s shoulder-to-shoulder because a few other networks bought their way into the space for the Singapore race. Right when your mind settles back into the focus of work, though—
“Here,” he says, his voice rough and tickling your ear. You nearly stumble forward, shocked at how his voice almost vibrates through you, a low trill that ripples top to bottom.
His hand settles at the small of your back, like his verbal confirmation wasn’t enough on its own; it’s big and his thumb rubs softly at the smooth strip of skin in-between your low skirt and your top. “Passing through.”
“Sure,” you say, dry. “Sorry.” You clear your throat and cant backwards into his touch—briefly, before you step forward and allow him to pass fully. Across you, Lissie looks up from her phone and you sense her trying to gauge why you’re so close to Max.
You blink and wait for him to disappear, wondering what you’ll tell her—how, more like. How the conversation even opens. How you’d phrase the truth, which in itself is a horribly grey area. Well, Lis, if you must know, Max and I have casual sex. A lot. It’s actually not very casual. We stopped now, but—yes, Max. That Max, yes.
“What about Max?”
Your eyes snap upward and then to your left, where you can see Max’s figure disappearing into a crowd of engineers. They return to Lissie and you feign confusion to mask panic. “What?”
“You were spacing out and then suddenly said his name.” She presses the tip of her pen onto her chin, humming. She doesn’t look at you and you thank God for it—eye contact would’ve rattled the truth out of you in seconds.
“I…” You shake your head. “I was irritated with—I’ve been irritated with him all morning. It’s. Yeah.”
“Oh,” she says, nodding, looking away for a second but not pausing. “Oh, okay. D’you wanna go over this edit again?”
—
The stale air of his hotel room, alleviated only by the vaguely fragrant linen spray they use when he’s out, is what greets Max when he arrives in the afternoon.The first thing he does—the only task he’d even thought of en route here—after the door clicks shut is pull up his Messages app and type.
Just got to hotel. He tosses his phone onto the bed while he waits, tugs his cap off and rakes reckless fingers through his hair. His new stylist’s got him onto jeans that don’t “look painted on” (you once said, verbatim), but he’d rather die than lounge in denim, so he swaps them out for just his Calvins.
His mind’s lethargic, but even his version of lethargic is high-drive for others—his brain has the silly tendency to work in absolute overdrive. He itches for a drink and orders a Scotch on the telephone. He checks his phone, which is lying facedown still, and as soon as he picks it up it chimes with your reply.
OK, nice. Did u need something?
No, just wanted to let you know. He hits send, then adds another. You’re off @ 8?
Ended early, I’m in the car. He’s in the middle of drafting a response when you send a follow-up.
I thought we agreed no contact unless business
He scoffs out a dry laugh. Despite himself, he reads the text in your voice, his brain completing the image of the bossy tone with crossed arms and a wickedly arched brow. In response he types: Can’t even update a friend nowadays? I am very tired you know.
Rules are rules, he reads. Then, Get some rest.
Yeah. Got a drink.
I said rest, not drink. Even then he can hear the exasperation in your voice.
How was work? I hurt a muscle doing training. That’s why I’m at the hotel early.
Feel better soon, you send. Had some press stuff today. Boring shit
Yeah? I missed you today.
Really?
A lot. He hums and leans backward, lets his head settle into the pillow, the smell of the linen spray consuming his nostrils. He waits for his phone to buzz, vibrate softly on the hard surface of his chest. It does, after a few minutes, after he’s let his eyes shut and let himself rest them for a bit, after the room service comes knocking and gives him the Scotch he’d requested while ago.
He’s back sitting on his bed when it vibrates. He picks it up and reads: How much?
You’re awfully easy to rile up. He smiles around the rim of his glass—he knows exactly where this is heading.
So much I think I’ll watch some videos of us.
The only caveat of casual sex as two people who essentially dislike each other is the fact that it’s all under wraps—which means if you two try to sneak off together, or are even caught in the same vicinity, people raise suspicions. And that means there are weeks where you barely get to fuck.
And that means you both grow antsy for it. He makes fun of you for being needy, when you’re tipsy and palming at the denim of his jeans or when you bend over when you know he’s looking. But the truth is he grows needy for it, too, craves you like you’re all that matters—he gets extra handsy, drops another innuendo when he knows you’re listening. There is a case to be made that he’s worse, in fact, because fans sometimes skirt around his words and wonder why he sounds so flirty when you’re the reporter in the room.
It was difficult but eventually he found a minor workaround: sometimes he films the two of you. There’s none of those propping his phone up kind of stuff, he just fishes for it in the middle of fucking you so he can store it for himself. It’s locked on his phone and he only has a few (the few has grown in number lately), but God it gives him release when he needs it and you’re not there.
I’ll call you when I’m at the lobby, comes the response. It’s always futile, the attempts to stay away from each other.
He pulls up the folder and lets his eyes skate over the thumbnails, squeezes himself through his boxers. Fuck. He can’t seem to decide what he wants to watch—the ones of you sucking him off, the ones of his fingers stretching you out. He recalls the whine in your voice in each of them, the pleads that escaped you for him to fuck you harder.
So Max, for the life of him, can’t even count how many times these videos have made him cum. But there’s one he hasn’t seen yet—the one he took the night before you two parted. You’d become extra needy on this night, preceding the season, he supposes, the separation. You already were anticipating the deprivation, starved for him more than usual. He’d have kissed you pretty, given you one orgasm after another and still you’d want more. And on this night it was you who asked him to film, you who wanted all of them on tape, so you’d both have something to tide you over until he got to fuck you again.
He pulls his cock out and strokes over it. And with his other hand, he presses his thumb on that video.
In it he’s fucking you in the dark, keeping the phone’s flashlight on your pussy as he sinks his cock into you. When he pulls back out the light reflects on the slick coating his dick, makes it glisten. It looks so wet, sounds so wet, with each thrust into you. He remembers just how it feels; he imagines that he’s back in your bed, fucking you again; that his fist is your pussy, and the spit lubricating it is the wetness that’s drooling out of you on camera.
He can see how tight you are—the way your pussy grips the shaft each time he pulls his cock out, greedy for him. Just like you.
The two of you were supposed to be quiet, too. You were at a hotel, your room beside another driver’s; you were supposed to be careful not to stir anyone. But your moans are louder than he remembers; so is the way you say, breathily, between gasps, Right there, Maxie, m’so close. Max inhales through his teeth, his cock throbbing at that—that Maxie, the cute little whimper out your mouth.
He strokes himself faster, watches the way your fingers slip into frame to rub at your clit, his thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier. He can see, hear—feel how wet you are, the sound of your cunt growing wetter with every thrust. He hears his own voice again, mutter out So good for me, yeah? And your babbled affirmation in response.
You cum hard, your slick getting everything wet and shiny and Max watches himself cum next. His dick’s already spurting when he pulls out and lets himself release on your lower stomach, some of it shooting onto your tits. He blinks, anchors himself back, quickens his wrist and digs his heels into the bed to keep himself from coming. Just a second longer. He knows what comes next and he needs to see it.
Like clockwork, he watches two of your fingers swipe through his cum, bringing them up to your lips. You blink up at the camera and smile. Quit it, your lips mouth, pink and cum-slick. Put it down, Maxie… fill me up again. He releases in weak spurts over his fist, a damp, flushed grunt escaping him as he does. He feels like the air’s been knocked out of him.
His phone rings and he presses it to his ear. “Hey, angel. Come on up.”
One week later
“Vodka,” you say to the bellboy when you get to the elevator. “To my hotel room. Very cold. Please. And thank you.”
The guy scurries off to fetch it for you, and five minutes and one elevator ride later, you're wrestling himself into your room, flexing your sore foot. Japan does hotel rooms well. The leather of your Manolo digs into your foot the way it does after you’ve walked the entire day and you can feel a blister forming on the back of your right heel but it doesn’t really matter, you guess, if you’re already home. Hotel-home, anyway.
You expect to find solace lounging on your bed, waiting out the hours to your morning briefing for the race and throw back a glass or two of vodka.
Instead, you find Max on your couch. He’s sipping ice-cold vodka—your ice-cold vodka.
“Hey, pretty,” he says. “Good vodka. I got staff to wire my FIFA on the TV.”
You just stare. “My TV. What,” you say, your eyes spotting the bottle of frosty vodka by his glass, “are you doing here?”
“I hadn’t seen you all day and I wanted to,” he explains simply. “Do you want food or something?”
“Food? I—nevermind,” you shrug. You’re frozen by the door, only just warmed now from the cold air that bit at your bare legs. “Max, how long have you been here?”
“Since Will Buxton started the post-FP debrief,” he huffs. He fiddles with the remote in his grip and extends it to the TV, where FIFA comes to life. “Aw, come on, angel. I know, I know. No sex and all that. I just like your company, you know?”
“Please. Go fuck yourself,” you scoff, toeing off your shoes and wiping your hands on the fabric of your skirt. He says one thing but you expect another—it’s only natural, given all the other times one of you had failed to keep a similar promise. But still you walk yourself beside him, fix the strap of your short dress, and allow him to pour you a drink.
“You know what I’ve been thinking about lately?” He asks absently. “About how you’re always having these talks with me about… about not having sex anymore, but you never even last two days.” He raises you the glass. “What is it, relapsing?”
“Fuck you,” you mutter. “It’s only because you keep trying to get me all hot and bothered.” You recall each time: in Monaco, in Madrid, in France. “Maybe if you got off my back once in a while, we’d be back to normal.”
He shrugs. “You just don’t have strong resolve.”
“Excuse me?” You scoff, irritation scratching at your throat.
“Wanna test that out? Come play.”
Your eyes flit over to the bright screen, all exhaustion cleared from your system. An animated Kylian Mbappe kicks a football in a loop. “Fine. One round and you’re out of my room.” He throws his hands up in surrender and you make a move to sit next to him. Max puts his hands out towards you then, nodding. You mistake it for some handshake, accept them, and then he’s wrangle you onto his lap facing outward. You feel your pulse at your throat as he pulls you tight against him.
“This is cheating,” you say, your voice dry.
“You got it wrong. Teaching.”
He moves his fingers atop yours, explaining what to press, what goes where, what to do for this or that. He can smell your perfume, hear your stilted breaths, and when he peeks over your shoulder he can see where your dress falls loose, showing the lace of your bra and your tits underneath them.
If he had it his way, he’d hike your dress up and have you ride him. But he’s given you a challenge.
You play a practice round and end up scoring a few goals, fingers making quick work of the buttons. Behind you, Max watches, content, answering your questions when you ask them hurriedly—how do I do this? That? Did I just score?
You score once, then twice, then three times, and before you know it you’re scoring in quick succession. The game is fun—it’s easy. If Max was trying to give you a hard time, he failed. You grow determined, competitive within seconds (something he really should’ve anticipated), and you’re scoring goals with skill that you’d confidently say rivals Max’s.
Max. You almost—almost forget he’s there, and then you sit up straighter and you’re hit with the sensation of his dick pressing into your ass. You inhale sharply and the controller clatters to the floor.
“You okay, pretty?” His hand comes up to rest on your knee, inching closer and closer with every hitch of your breath. Your hand, now free of the controller, seizes his, stopping it right at the middle of your thigh.
“I’m fine.”
“Yeah? You look stressed.” He doesn’t move. “You were so close, too, weren’t you?” The score stares you right in the face: 4-5. “Maybe you just need to get your mind off it.” It’s so bullshit, so extremely obvious, but he’s right in your ear and his hand is so near where you’ve missed its presence.
You’re usually competitive. You can usually hold your ground. But with this and him—
“Maybe,” you breathe, loosening your grip. He spreads his legs, spreading yours in the process, and brings his hand closer, running slender fingers over the lace material of your underwear until you’re squirming. It grows damper the more he touches, your mouth hanging open with stunted whimpers.
“You always come back to me, schatz, don’t you,” he says, whispers against your ear. You wrench a moan out. “Remember the first time? You interviewed me in Abu Dhabi… you teased me the whole day and begged to come thrice in my room. The time in Monaco you touched yourself to me when I was in the next room. The time we almost hooked up in Miami…” He groans, to himself more than you. “You’re a dirty girl.” He’s curling two fingers inside of you now, grazing against the sweet spot pulls the most delicious moans out of your innocent mouth.
“Every time… you go, that was the last time.” While your mind recaps the memories he’s busy spelling into your ear, Max’s fingers are curling inside of you against that sweet spot just right, and your moans are getting louder and louder.
“Fuck,” he huffs, watching your flushed face get more and more euphoric.
“Aw, pretty, look at that,” Max laughs. He’s looking at your thighs, watching the way they tense and shake as his fingers stroke your g spot. Each pump and curl into your twitching pussy feels better and better, and your dripping walls are starting to clench around his fingers.
“Wait, I—I can’t,” you pant, lolling your head onto his shoulder and involuntarily bucking your hips upward.
“Yeah you can,” he orders. “It’s so easy to get you to cum, isn’t it? Or is that just for me? The driver you hate the most?” He laughs. “Get all wet for the guy you couldn’t care less about. Say you hate me and get my dick nice and wet the next day.” You’re grinding onto his three fingers now, shameless with it.
“Are you gonna cum?” He asks.
“Oh,” you whine. “Yeah, fuck—yes.”
“Tell me what you’re gonna do,” he says wickedly. You can hear him smile.
“I’m gonna—please—I’m gonna cum,” you pant, tension coming to a halt and then bursting all at once out of you. His other arm holds your hips down against him, and you spend a minute and another twitching, your skin sticky with sweat and slick.
It’s not long before you’re whirled back to face him, your hands making quick work of his jeans. It’s a skill you’ve both mastered, the art of the quickie—in closets, hotel rooms, with sweaty, open-mouthed kisses pressed along the column of your throat, moans swallowed.
He hikes your dress up and your panties to the side, immediately bullies his cock into you—the glide is slow, but easy. You’re so fucking wet.
“Fucking big,” you gasp out. “Jesus, Jesus—fuck.” Your head drops and presses against his; he uses the opportunity to kiss you. You moan into it, feeling the stretch, your slick wetness dragging down the length of him as he thrusts up, up, further. “Been a while.”
“Feel good, though, yeah?” Your toes curl and you nod; you’re flushed all over and you need him to hurry up. You grind downward, onto him. He does, then, fucks you hard and fast, like he’s thirsted for this for way longer than he did. You’re squirming, all wet, and it tempts him to go harder. Your face is shiny with sweat, lips drawn in between your teeth.
“Slo—slow down,” you manage, babbling; he doesn’t, speeding up his thrusts until you’re moaning his name. “Max—wait—fuck, you’re so mean,” you whine, wrapping your arms around him and letting him take control.
“You’re fine,” he grunts, pulling out almost all the way. “You take my dick so well, schatz, every fucking time. Don’t you?”
“I do,” you gasp out, and he’s slamming into you gain. You cry out loudly, sniffling from the overstimulation—you’d barely recovered from your initial orgasm and already you’re hurtling into what feels like three at the same time.
“For someone who doesn’t like me,” he sneers, “you sure do moan like a slut, huh?”
His words get you more turned on than you’re willing to admit, but you shake your head.
“No?” He laughs, breathy from the effort. “Maybe I should film you now. Send it to your boss, let him see his stellar reporter’s getting Verstappen’s dick wet.”
Finally, the tension building inside of you reaches a head, and your pussy starts to twitch around his dick. He notices, grunts sharply and leans forward, shuddering as he releases into you. Your moans are choked and tapering into whimpers as you release slick all over him, and you attempt to catch your breath, collapsing onto his still-clothed, now-sticky chest. You scratch at the dri-fit material and inhale him, the smell of his cologne, his sweat. You bite at his earlobe, laugh when he flinches.
“That,” you say into his skin, “was the last time.” It’s both seriously and as a joke, playing off of what he’d remarked earlier.
“Jesus, princess. I’m still inside you.”
You giggle and drum lightly along the plane of his chest. In a few minutes he’ll pick you up to shower, but now you’re content to inhale him in. Quietly you wonder why you just can’t get enough of him—if you were in better senses, you’d have realized he was thinking the same thing about you.
#f1#max verstappen#max verstappen smut#max verstappen imagines#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen x reader#f1 x reader
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*When Idia accidentally hacked MC's social media accounts and saw everything related about the dorm leaders*
Idia: ...
Idia: Ortho, do you think we should share this or not?
Ortho: Do you mean to the other dorm leaders?
Idia: Yes. These are pretty neat.
MC: Guys, have you noticed anything weird today?
Ace: Yeah. It was quite obvious, honestly.
Epel: Vil gave you a kiss on the cheek and thanked you.
Deuce: Rosehearts-senpai smiled at you warmly and asked if you would like to study with him.
Jack: Leona-senpai ruffled your hair, and Kalim-senpai almost hugged you to death.
Ace: And we shouldn't forget Azul-senpai giving them a discount coupon.
Ortho: Also, Malleus Draconia visiting your dorm with lots of presents in hand.
Ace: Seriously, what did you do for them to act like that?
MC: I don't know?
MC's posts/social media activities about the dorm leaders:
Has designed a plushie for Riddle, and was hoping to start soon in making it
Created a personalized ad that would help promote Mostro Lounge
Has bought a pair of comfortable slippers for Leona (but Kifaj told them that the size was a bit small for his feet)
Has drawn a cute sketch of Kalim and Jamil and is planning to give it to them before they return in their own world
Made an inspired makeup palette solely for Vil
Collecting lores about gargoyles that they could share with Malleus
Released a gaming app (playable in a browser) where users can interact with cats, befriend them, and start their own story. Two of the cats in the game resemble Idia and Ortho.
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Waiting and Watching
Gamer!Gojoxreader
18+ mdni
Content warning: porn watching, soft dom! gojo, tw link, riding, breast fondiling, teasing gojo, very slight voyeurism if you squint, unprotected sex (wrap it up folks)
Wc: 1.4k
note: This is edited but I most likely missed stuff still but please enjoy :)
You’re chilling at gojos house while he’s gaming with his friend Suguru, laying on the bed waiting for attention.
You’re just scrolling on your phone going on social media trying to entertain yourself while your oh so lovely boyfriend keeps playing with his friend. Normally you don’t really care and would just keep doing what you normally do, but today you were feeling a little more needy than other days. Glancing over to your lover, you see that he is very much into his game.
“Oh come on Suguru help me out man!” Satoru shouted at the screen and through the headset he was wearing.
You try to drown out the shouting and get back to whatever you had been looking at on your phone. Getting bored of the app you were on you swipe out and go to twitter. Not really thinking much of anything you start scrolling on your timeline. As you’re scrolling you come across a video that is quite…alluring.
Immediately the video had you hot and bothered. You could feel the throbbing coming from your cunt already, and squeezing your legs together to try and calm it down. It clearly wasn’t working though, as you continued to watch the video on your phone. You look over at Satoru again and see that he’s very much into the game he’s playing still. Huffing you think for a second. You look down at yourself real quick, only wearing a t-shirt from satorus closet and some lounge shorts that were more like underwear with how short they were.
Before thinking about it, you felt your hand creep towards the waistband of your shorts. Reaching past it and into your underwear, your fingers start to circle over your clit. You could feel how wet you were already without even touching yourself. Looking back at the video you start to match thrust with your fingers.
You try being quiet by biting your lips, but you let small gasps come out. You could feel yourself coming close to your climax, but then you felt something grab on to your ankle and drag you to the edge of the bed.
While you were under the influence of your own pleasure, you failed to realize Satoru had stopped playing and taken his headphones and saw what you were up to.
“What is my cute little girlfriend up to hmm?” Satoru questioned you with a smirk on his face and reaching for your phone that was still replaying the video over and over again. Before you could answer him he speaks again.
“Oh what do we have here, you like this video baby?” He flips the screen to you and grabs onto your hip so you stay still. You hand was still down in your shorts and you slowly pulled it out while you answered.
“Um, well, you were busy and It was on my timeline so…” You look up at him with a red face and try and wipe your slicked fingers on your shorts. Before you could, Satoru grabs your wrist and your hand towards his mouth. Without any warning he sticks your fingers into his hand and licks your fingers clean of yourself. All you can do it stare up at him with a wide mouth.
“Well why didn’t you say anything baby? I would’ve gotten off if my baby said she was needy.” He tells you after finishing with your hands. He places your phone down on the bed next to you and sits down on the bed. He pulls you on top of him and you spread your legs across him thighs straddling him. You look up to his face and put your hands on his chest steadying yourself. Your boyfriend smirks looking up at your flustered face.
“Why don’t we recreate that lovely video hmm, whatcha think?” He asks with a wide smiling across his face, squeezing your hips in hid hands.
“Ok.” You reply back to him breathlessly.
Before you can think of anything else, you feel his lips crash onto yours. You feel his tongue pushing into yours and you moan into his mouth. You feel Satorus hands creep under his shirt and grab onto your breast, squeezing it with enough force to make you gasp. He takes this opportunity to start kissing down the side of your neck and grabbing onto the waist band of your shorts. Sitting up a bit, you let Satoru slide your shorts and underwear down your legs, leaving you in just his shirt.
“God you’re so pretty.” Satoru mumbles against your lips before pressing his to them. You moan into his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck and rolling your hips into his. You could feel how painfully hard he was when you crotch met his. His hands found their way to your ass, giving it a nice squeeze while grinding your crotch against his again.
“Take it off.” You say to him breathlessly, wanting him to take his sweats off as well. Satoru smiles down at you chuckling at your neediness.
“Ok ok, calm down.” He replies to you, grabbing the waistband of his sweats and pulling it down enough to free his cock. Once its free you grab onto it and start stroking it slowly. While you’re doing that you feel your boyfriend reach behind you and touches you between your thighs. You gasp from the his touch and clench over nothing. Satorus fingers inch towards your entrance, feeling how wet you are. You moan at the touch of his fingers. Getting too impatient you whine at his teasing touch.
Giving in, Satoru slides two fingers into your cunt. You can feel his long fingers reaching way deeper than yours ever do, making you gasp out. You quickly feel yourself already wanting to come, Satoru could feel it too. Using this though, he quickly removed his fingers and positions you over his cock. Using your hands that were already on him, you maneuver it towards your clenching hold.
You slowly push yourself down onto him inch by inch, Satoru squeezing your waist and helping you. You let out a loud moan squeezing around his cock, Satoru letting out his own groan into your neck. You quickly set a calm but deep pace, bouncing up and down on Satorus cock.
“You’re squeezing me so hard sweetheart.” Satoru mumbles in your neck, kissing and sucking at the skin. You grabbed onto his shoulders to give you balance. You move your hips in small circles, causing the pleasure to feel even better. Satorus hand crept around to your front and under his shirt to find your clit, rubbing small circles into that as well. You throw your head back letting out louder moans, squeezing Satoru even more than before.
You move your hands from his shoulders and pick up his shirt, moving the fabric out of the way. You can feel Satoru matching your hips with his own thrust, taking yourself closer to finishing. Satoru grabs onto your hips stopping you from doing your own movements, going so fast you can’t even say his name. Before you know it you’re throwing your head back and your body is convulsing with pleasure. You feel Satorus thrust stutter, giving one big final thrust before you feel his hot ropes shooting into you.
Coming down from both of your highs, you collapse onto Satorus chest. He drags his hands up your back, rubbing up and down, calming your heartbeat down.
“You have a really cute face when you cum, you know that?” Satoru mumbles into the top of your head. You look up at Satoru and smack his chest with the little energy you still have. He chuckles down at you and kisses your forehead. You enjoy this little moment, basking in each others presence. Moments like these make you love your boyfriend even more. Before you could enjoy the silence more though, the sounds of moans fill the room again.
You look over to the side of the bed and realize your phone was still been playing the video you had been watching. You’re cheeks flush and you push yourself off of Satorus quickly. Grabbing onto your phone, you pause the video and exit out of the app. You look over at Satoru, who is looking over at you with a grin on his face. He quickly stands up and picks you up, you wrap your legs around his waist to not fall.
He brings you over to his desk chair and sits down with you placed in his lap. You cuddle into his chest while he grabs onto his headset and logs back onto his game. You can faintly here suguru on the other end of the line.
“Are the two of you done?” You hear him say.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#jjk satoru#gojo satoru smut#satorugojo#gojo smut#geto suguru#jjk geto#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#jujutsu kaisen manga#jujutsu gojo#jujutsu kaisen#twitter links
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What the hell?? Pt.2
A young lady who was a model lived on earth ended in a tragic way.. and ended up in hell somehow? While she cant hurt a fly.. Right?
Warning!!: Cursing, Smoking, Drinking.
Part 1.
" Welcome to the Vees my dear.." Vellvette said smiling, taking lipstick from her pocket. "Pucker up" I bent down to her height as she put that dark shade of lipstick on me " Now your ready." She smirked putting the lipstick away and grabbing a different phone from bag
"I never got your name" She typed away on the phone chewing bubblegum.
" It's Y/N.." she typed some more. " I made you a social media account" Throwing an object that looks like a phone at me. " It's the latest Hellphone.. enjoy it." She smiled. " Pose dear" She pulled out her phone pointing it at the mirror. As i leaned into her smiling.
" Posted!" She typed away. "Let's get you back to val and vox." I nodded following her to another room that looked like another office.
I felt my phone go off like crazy, opening an app called Sinstagram? opening my account Darling_Y/N? seeing 200K followers in a minute? Looking at the tagged post.
-Say Hello to our new play thing.. Y/N <3 @ Darling_Y/N
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"Good Afternoon, My name is Katie Killjoy." " And i'm Tom Trench"
"This afternoon we've got some SPICY gossip about the Overlords." Katie said, showing her spiky smile.
"but also tonight we will have a speech by Lucifer Himself! with the one and only Princess of Hell Charlie." Tom said putting some papers aside. "Stay tuned for more!" She smiled. The camera cutting off " Were done here Bitch." She cursed.
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"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE VEL?!" Vox yelled angrily, destroying a tv in the process.
" Chill Gramps." It's just a post." She laughed taking a seat patting the chair next to her. " A SMALL POST?! SHE'S GOING VIRAL IT'S BEEN 4 MINUTES!" he yelled more. " At Least She's trending." she said as i took a seat next to her.
"Have you figured out what your talent is?" Val Stood across me smoking some more. i nodded showing my hands as they lit up. Making a dress out of thin air. "That's quite interesting.." Val walked closer holding the object... Vox calmed down.
" Can you make lingerie?" Val smiled.
"i can try?" I made a white set with angel wings..
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"Hey Y/N you ready for the runway?" The staff said. Fixing my hair and the cast putting the finishing touches of my makeup. "Yes." I walked to the stage curtain in full confidence " You're on in 3..2..1!" As she said that, I walked to the stage of the Victoria's secret angels catwalk.
Walking around in full confidence smiling at the camera posing and giving the camera a kiss and a wave. walking back spinning around taking one last pose as I walked to the curtain behind screens.
staff helping me take off the heavy wings off as they slip a robe around me, walking to the lounge for the models grabbing a smoothie. as i heard more heels clank around me. " hey Y/N right?" A voice said behind me. Turning around revealing a gorgeous woman with brown wavy hair with full lips. " My name is Adriana" She smiled while grabbing a drink. She had amazing face, Body and posture. I wish i was more like her.
"I loved your walk by the way" She checked her phone. "Thank you! It's such an honor meeting you" I smiled mentally slapping myself for saying that. " No, it's my pleasure. I've been seeing you alot these days, you're going to be a great kid." She waved giving me an air kiss. I walked to my changing room putting my drink down hearing moans in the bathroom. "Honey?" I took off my heels slipping on fuzzy slippers. walking closer to the bathroom that wasn't locked leaning my ear on the door.
"What if we get caught.." A woman said "She won't. just focus on me" that voice.. I kicked the door open. " What's going on here?" I stood there shocked to see my boyfriend shirtless with a model. "how could you Kyara.." I pulled her by her hair away from him. " Ow ow owowow-" she yelled as I dragged her by her hair out of my changing room. " Just you wait.." I closed the door and locked it.
" Let me explain, dear.." He put his hands up. " No explanation. Leave.. were done." I yelled angrily. as heels clanked behind me. yelling at him. turning around to look at the sound as Kyara my best friend was holding a crowbar as my boyfriend held me still
before i knew it i woke up in hell..
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#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin x reader#x reader#hazbin x you#hazbin hotel vox#alastor x reader#husk x reader#valentino x reader#helluva boss#helluva boss x reader
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bf!itadori ୨ৎ
bf itadori ୨ৎ who is very upfront about his feelings for you."i like you and i really want to be your boyfriend. can i please be your boyfriend?"he's practically begging and with the way his eyes glimmer with desperation like a whining puppy - it's impossible to reject him even if you wanted to.
bf itadori ୨ৎ who posts pictures like this on his instagram. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.
bf itadori ୨ৎ who makes sure all of his captions mention you. "my girlfriend took this pic of me 😃!" "my girlfriend told me to post these" "my girlfriend looks so pretty! 😍🥰"
bf itadori ୨ৎ who gets upset whenever you stand on another person's head on roblox."you don't get it babe, you're basically cheating on me!"
bf itadori ୨ৎ who makes sure to you show you funny cat videos while saying, "that's so us."
bf itadori ୨ৎ who cries whenever you have to leave him whether it's to work, school, or back to your own house.
bf itadori ୨ৎ who finds a way to bring you up in every conversation he has with someone. "yeah my girlfriend said.." "i'll have to ask my girlfriend if.." "well me and my girlfriend were..."
bf itadori ୨ৎ who makes sure to take the biggest bites of your food whenever you offer it to him.
bf itadori ୨ৎ who has a period tracker app on his phone, he'll text you whenever your period is estimated to begin. "babe, try not to wear light colored jeans for the next few days." or "are u cramping rn???"
bf itadori ୨ৎ who isolates himself whenever you guys have an argument. megumi has to drag him out of his room just for him to eat properly.
bf itadori ୨ৎ who spams your phone with apologizes and begs for forgiveness.
bf itadori ୨ৎ who absolutely loses his shit whenever you give him the silent treatment. megumi blankly stares at itadori when he comes up to him with tearful eyes and a severely cracked screen.
bf itadori ୨ৎ who caves in first and comes to your dorm. "i miss my girlfriend." he'll say with a pout.
bf itadori ୨ৎ who grins brightly when you finally forgive him. his mood is instantly back up and suddenly he's an absolute ray of sunshine again.
bf itadori ୨ৎ who gets you to read to him whenever the two of you are lounging in bed together.
bf itadori ୨ৎ who demands you fall asleep on facetime with him if you guys can't go to sleep together physically.
bf itadori ୨ৎ who has a "oooh this is cute" gf meanwhile he's a "want me to get it for you?" bf. (he'll buy it for you even if you say no).
bf itadori ୨ৎ who has a "i can do it myself" gf meanwhile he's a "i know, but, please let me do it for you" bf.
bf itadori ୨ৎ who giggles as he pokes at you, " "uhmm.." he'll trail off, "i have a crush on you." he'll say. (you guys have been dating for eight months now).
bf itadori ୨ৎ who lets you test your makeup and skincare products on him. "make me look pretty." he'll tell you. (his face heats up when you tell him he's already pretty).
bf itadori ୨ৎ who compliments you multiple times throughout the day."ohh, babe, you look so pretty." "your handwriting is so beautiful." "your cooking is amazing, thank you, babe." "my pretty girl, let me see your smile."
bf itadori ୨ৎ who genuinely starts tweaking whenever you say "love you" instead of "i love you".
bf itadori ୨ৎ who always accepts doing tiktok dances with you. (he always somehow manages to do better than you even though you taught him the dance??)
bf itadori ୨ৎ who dedicates all of his social media accounts about you. "i love my beautiful, amazing, excellent, charming, funny gf" would be in all of his bios.
bf itadori ୨ৎ who would make sure your name is included in his usernames."inlovewithyn" "ynbiggestfanboy" "iliveforyn" "iworshipyn"
bf itadori ୨ৎ who fills your face with kisses whenever he makes a joke that offends you instead of making you laugh.
bf itadori ୨ৎ who will whine, "i miss my girlfriend." "dude, she just went to the bathroom." he'll get in response.
bf itadori ୨ৎ who drives everywhere no matter where the location is. #passengerprincess
bf itadori ୨ৎ who savors every hug, kiss, argument, and laugh with you because he never knows which one will be the last one.
#pwinkprincess ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა#₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ#yuji ᡣ𐭩 ୨୧ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶#jjk ! ૮꒰⸝⸝> ̫ <⸝⸝꒱ა#˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jjk x black reader#yuji itadori#jjk itadori#itadori x reader#jujutsu itadori#jjk yuji#yuji x you#yuji x reader#yuji jjk#itadori#itadori x y/n
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✮ bloody knuckles ✮
TW: angst to fluff!! i know the summary seems like pure angst but i swear its not! semi-graphic violence? , guns, kidnapping, bada and reader get into an argument, reader acts naively and a bit selfishly (but it’s okay, she’s young and makes up for it in the end), bada still having beef w your bodyguard, protective!bada, cold!bada (this time to you too…), violent & frusterated!bada, brief mentions of sexual activity (inc…toys, ass, boobs… sorry), use of the word unnie (about six or so times) brief mentions of drugs, a creepy woman, and a surprise character from the previous installment!
SUMMARY: breaking bada’s three rules for a night of partying backfires in ways you could’ve never imagined. now, you have to deal with the consequences of your lies
part iv. succumb (to me)
WC: 12.5k… get some popcorn y’all this is a long one
A/N: read this and this for more background on this au. i’m sure there are a ton of mistakes sprinkled throughout this fic so please ignore them, this took me so long to write and i just want to put it out on time… i promise i’ll edit it once i get the chance😭
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!!
On an inconspicuous Thursday night, when a heat wave had just hit Seoul, you lounged in your lavish bed—free from sheets—scrolling through social media.
Pictures of cute animals and food fill your feed, making you smile down at your screen. You are about to like a particularly cute picture of a cat when a notification banner stops you midway. Your eyes flicker to the top of the screen, finding a message from your best friend, Jae Hwang.
Clicking on the notification, you're transferred into your messages app, and Jae’s text fills your screen. “Unnie, I haven’t seen you in so long!! Please come to the party I’m throwing tomorrow so we can catch up and have some fun~!"
Your lips fall open in mild surprise as you instinctively sit up. A party? You text Jae back quickly, asking the reason for the party and where it will be held.
“At my house, of course! We’re all gathering to celebrate your engagement!”
Your engagement… so your parents really hadn’t wasted any time spreading the good news. You’d barely been living with Bada for a month, and they’d already informed your friends. You shake your head and sigh rather loudly. Bada would greatly disapprove of your parents' loose lips. She preferred her privacy, not only for protection but also because she liked people staying out of her business. That much you could tell from the little time you’d had to get to know her.
Shifting your focus back to Jae’s unanswered text, you contemplate attending the party or skipping out. Though they were technically throwing it in your honor, they should have let you know beforehand instead of asking you the night before the party. You felt well within your rights to refuse, but a nagging thought holds you back.
What would you do instead? Technically, you had no plans on Friday night—or Friday at all for that matter. Saturday neither… nor Sunday. Really, you never had plans anymore. Since staying with Bada, you mostly remained inside the Lee mansion, either lounging by the large infinity pool, taking a dip in your personal Jacuzzi, or perhaps enjoying a film in the theater room on the second floor.
Or, if you wanted to leave home, you would be escorted by your bodyguard to certain malls, grocery stores, or establishments. All of which were either managed by Bada or by one of her partners. She made it clear to you from the start that going places not protected by one of her subordinates would be dangerous.
"I have connections to half the establishments in Seoul," she had muttered to you. It's incredible that despite the implications of the words falling from her mouth, Bada had a way of saying things so humbly. She didn't sound like she was boasting—though you wouldn't fault her if she was. "I bet some of the markets you entered when you were a child were run by my family, and you'd never have known."
You’d try your best to conceal your amazement at her confession, but the glow in your eyes was as clear as day to Bada. “And what about the rest?”
She let out a quiet breath, saying, "The rest are mostly run by rival gangs. Almost no stores or establishments are free of mafia influence. Not anymore, at least." Seeing the way your eyes shifted from bright to slightly apprehensive, she pushed her chair back and rose, walking around her desk before leaning on it and clutching onto its edges. "There's no need to worry about them. As long as you stay in areas where my people are, you are safe." Her hand came down to rest politely on your thigh, patting it in a comforting manner.
Her words made your stomach flutter with butterflies, and a giddy smile instinctively formed on your lips. For someone who claimed to want to avoid fostering romantic affection between you both, Bada seemed to be doing the exact opposite.
Before you could lose yourself in the tenderness of the memory, you climb out of bed, having made your decision. Because you barely left home as it is, what harm is there in going to a party? A party organized in your honor, no less. It’s a rare occasion, and truthfully, you miss Jae and the rest of your girlfriends. You haven’t seen them in over a month and texted them sparingly during that time. To be fair, it was mostly your fault—you were much too focused on getting to know Bada and adjusting to your new way of life to strike up conversations with them.
You nod your head firmly as if the action will help build your confidence before you grab onto the handle of your bedroom door and slowly open it. Standing to your right, the figure of your bodyguard, Hyo Kim, immediately greets you on the other side. She turns to face you, her black-tinted sunglasses obstructing your view of her eagle eyes.
“What are you doing up so late?” She says lightheartedly.
“Do you know if Bada is still awake?” You ask. “I wanted to ask her something.”
Hyo lifts her arm up, pushing aside the fabric of her suit to reveal a golden watch. She gazes down at it, pretending to think long and hard. “The Boss should be awake for about…” she trails off playfully, “another four hours.”
You chuckle under your breath, “I didn’t even need to ask, did I?”
“Not at all.” Hyo shakes her head while smirking.
“Alright then,” you clasp your hands together tightly, “I’m going to go see Bada.”
Hyo gestures ahead of you with her hand. “I’ll follow your lead.”
You nod quickly before advancing forward, her trailing close behind. You can’t lie; it was strange to have someone following after you almost every second of the day in the beginning. You remember that at the beginning of your stay at Lee mansion, you kept forgetting that Hyo was following you—she has the tendency to be extremely quiet when focused—and were jump-scared by her multiple times. You’d round corners and suddenly hear one of her heavier footsteps behind you, making you jump and your heart practically leap out of your chest.
At some point, you swear she started doing it on purpose, enjoying the look of fear you gave her when you jumped. Eventually, though, you started to grow used to her constantly lingering presence and even grew comfortable around her. Somewhere along the way, you’d both gotten to know each other more, and a slow but harmonious friendship grew.
“So, what are you going to ask the Boss about?” Hyo’s low and blithe voice cuts through the silence.
“Oh,” you begin, “my friend asked me to meet her and some of my other friends tomorrow night.”
“Really?” Hyo comments, her voice dripping with an emotion you can’t quite decipher.
“Yes,” you affirm. “I wanted to ask Bada if it’s okay for me to visit her.”
Hyo hums under her breath in acknowledgment. “She’ll appreciate that.”
“I hope so.” You smile lightly to yourself. “I just thought that since you follow me wherever I go, she’d find out either way, and I might as well get her thoughts on it.”
“Not to crush your hopes and dreams, kid, but I doubt she’ll say yes.” Hyo remarks.
“Really?” You pause and turn around to face her, a frown forming on your lips.
“The Boss values your safety more than anything else,” Hyo shrugs. “Meeting people she isn’t familiar with puts you at risk.”
“But they’re my friends.” You push back lightly.
“I get that, but like I said, the Boss only cares about keeping you safe.” Hyo raises her hands up in defeat.
You deflate at her words, acknowledging that she’s most likely right. After all the events that’d taken place in the span of a single month, you honestly wouldn’t hold it against Bada to be cautious of where you go. But at the same time, you can’t help but feel mild resentment at the fact that you aren’t even allowed to see your friends.
“Hey,” Hyo frowns at you like a scolding sister. “Don’t be discouraged. You haven’t even asked her yet. You never know; she just might say yes.”
You pick your head up at her words, slowly but surely nodding back. “Yeah, you’re right.” And with that, you continue walking down the corridor to Bada’s office until you reach the dark mahogany wood of her door. Lightly rapping on it, there’s a period of silence before you hear the low tenor of her voice speak up.
“Lusher, if you’re coming to ask me if I’ve finished the paperwork for POSCO’s deal, for the millionth time the answer is no, I haven’t.” Bada’s disgruntled voice makes you laugh to yourself, and you immediately bring your hand up to cover your mouth as you grin widely.
“Is now a bad time to see you, then?” You answer back cheekily.
You receive no response for a solid minute before the sound of papers rustling loudly and approaching footsteps reaches your ears. The door to Bada’s office opens, and there she stands in all her glory, looking rather flustered. “Sorry. I thought you were Lusher.”
You smile at Bada while shaking your head. “It’s alright. Can I come in?”
“Of course.” She steps aside, making room for you to walk into her office while she holds the door open for you. You say a quick thank you as pass through the threshold, missing how Bada lets the door swing closed behind her and shuts out Hyo. “So, is there a reason why you’re visiting me? It’s very late into the night; I expected you to be asleep already.”
“Well, I was about to go to sleep, but I got a text from Jae—” you pause upon seeing her frown. “my best friend.”
Bada nods in acknowledgment, moving toward a chair and pushing it back, gesturing for you to sit down. You do so, trying to ignore the nervous tension building in the pit of your stomach.
“Yeah, she invited—” you pause, choosing your next words carefully. Phrasing Jae’s invitation as a party would most likely mean Bada wouldn't let you go. So, if you just tweaked your wording a bit to make the party seem less extreme… it wouldn’t be that big of a deal, right? “she invited me to a get-together between friends.”
“A get-together?” Bada questions, folding her hands across her lap as she leans on the edge of her office table. “For what purpose?”
“Just to catch up and… celebrate our engagement.” You gesture between you both, immediately noticing how Bada’s expression shifts, her lips pressing into a thin line.
“They know of our engagement?” She asks.
“Yes,” you sigh. “I guess my parents couldn’t keep their excitement in check.”
“Your parents.” Bada shakes her head, pinching her nose-bridge tiredly. “I’ll have to have a word with them about that.”
“Please do.” You nod rapidly. “But aside from that, what I wanted to ask you was if I could be escorted to the get-together tomorrow night?”
Bada moves her gaze from the floor to your eyes, removes her hand from her face, and gives you a hesitant expression. “I don’t know… after all the incidents recently…” she trails off, a faraway look finding her eyes. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want you to feel like you’re a prisoner in your own home, or that you can’t see your friends, I just want you to be safe.”
“I get that, I really do, Bada, but this is just a small get-together.” You lie between your teeth.
Bada stays quiet, looking to be considering your words. “And you trust your friends, right?”
“I do.”
Bada lets out a light breath, while a small smile finds her lips. “All right then, you can go.”
“Really?” You give her a shocked look before you snap out of it and practically squeal, jumping up from your chair and instinctively wrapping your arms around Bada’s shoulders in a hug. “Thank you so much!”
Bada freezes in her spot, surprised by your affection. Slowly, a warm, sappy feeling builds at the bottom of her stomach, and her hands, which had been propped up in the air stiffly, gently come down to rest against your back, patting it tenderly. “You’re welcome.” She tries not to think about how lovely you feel against her or the allure of your natural scent.
You spend all Friday preparing for the party, choosing your makeup beforehand, your jewelry, shoes, and of course, your dress—a beautiful wine-red ensemble that you’d picked up on your shopping trip with Bada. She’d chosen it for you—claiming, “This dress would look beautiful on you.” The meaning behind her words, that it wasn’t the dress that was beautiful, but instead your figure that would make it look divine, had struck you in that moment.
If Bada wanted you to wear the dress, you’d buy it in a heartbeat.
For the little hours left you have in the day, you try not to get too giddy thinking of the party or how magnificent you’ll look in the dress, instead trying to busy yourself by catching up on one of your favorite TV shows. But when the milky raven sky begins to take over the horizon, you jump off of the couch, rushing to your room, leaving Hyo to scramble after you.
In your bedroom, you sit down at your antique-styled vanity, your makeup laid out in front of you. You begin prepping your skin before beginning your usual routine. It takes you a slightly longer time for you to finish because you’re being incredibly meticulous, but by the end of it, you look amazing. Before you can get distracted, you quickly dress yourself.
As your fingers curl around the clasp of your teardrop diamond earrings and secure them in place, you take a step back to gaze at yourself in your floor-length mirror.
The win-red dress hugs your body, accentuating every favorable feature of it. A similar dark rouge to your dress is blended across your eyelids in a smoky eye, making the color of your eyes pop in contrast. Your lips, fixed into a slight pout, are glossy and soft, tinted with a color of your choice. Taking your look all together, all you can say is that Bada was right—the dress does look beautiful on you.
A knock on your bedroom door startles you, your hand instinctively flying to your chest. "Hello?" You respond, a bit on edge.
"It's me. Can I come in?" Bada's voice, muffled behind the door, reaches you.
"Yes," you reply, hastily adjusting your dress and double-checking your appearance.
Bada enters just as your hands fall to your sides, her gaze immediately scanning your figure. She appraises you, from collarbones to legs, before fixing her eyes on your chest for a lingering moment.
Suppressing a nervous giggle, you greet her, "Hi, Bada."
Her eyes quickly snap up to meet yours, a sheepish cough escaping her mouth. "Hello."
Standing awkwardly by the door, Bada stares at you for a solid minute before you give a lighthearted smile. "Is there something you needed?"
"Uhh, no. Well, actually..." Bada stumbles over her words, closing her eyes in embarrassment. "Sorry, yes. I wanted to see you before you left."
You release a small breath of understanding before a cheeky thought crosses your mind. Walking closer to Bada, you do a little twirl when you reach her. "So, what do you think?"
Bada exhales while chuckling, her nervousness leaving her. "I think you are the most beautiful woman I've ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes upon."
Out of shock, you remain still, surprised by how unabashedly Bada expressed her thoughts. You expected a simple compliment, but she exceeded your expectations. "Really?" You ask quietly, sensing a shift in the room's atmosphere. An air of intimacy and something more sensual makes your skin prickle and breath hitch.
"Of course. There's no one I could think of that could make that dress look so stunning." Bada looks back at you with a serious and genuine expression.
"Bada..." you trail off, immediately thinking of countless other women who could wear the dress better. Supermodels, actresses—
"I think there's just one simple thing that would finish off the look." Bada's voice brings you back, and you give her a questioning stare. She smiles, her hand digging into her pocket before presenting you a sleek black box. Your confusion deepens as she opens it, revealing the most elegant necklace you've ever seen. Matching teardrop diamonds, akin to those on your earrings circle the chain, glittering against the low bedroom light. At the center, a silver locket shaped like a dainty heart ties it all together.
You stare at the necklace in awe, alternating between Bada's eyes and the exquisite piece of jewelry. "Bada, it's beautiful."
She watches you marvel at it, sparkles dancing in your eyes. Giving you a fond look, she nudges the box closer. "Take it."
Hesitating for a brief second, you gently retrieve the necklace. "Wow," you breathe out, fully admiring its beauty now that it’s free from the box.
"You should put it on," Bada encourages you softly.
“Oh, I shouldn’t—” you protest.
“I insist,” she cuts you off, tucking the box back into her pocket. She steps forward, taking the necklace from your hands and moving behind you. “Here, let me.” She places it across your collarbones and brings the clasp together, her long fingers brushing across your skin.
Her touch ignites a spark, but as quickly as it appeared, her fingers are gone. She steps back, placing her hands on your waist to move you back so that you’re facing your mirror again. But this time, Bada's at your side, admiring how exquisite you look.
“Absolutely perfect,” she whispers into your ear.
The warmth from her touch lingers as you stare at Bada through the mirror. “Thank you.” You bask in the comfortable silence in the room for a moment before speaking up again. “Can I ask, did you buy this?”
Bada places her hands atop your shoulders, a soft, wistful look finding her irises. “It was my mother’s.”
Immediately, you whip around to face her, your mouth wide open in mortification, and your eyes the size of saucers. “Bada, why didn’t you tell me?” Your hands frantically try to find the clasp of the necklace, wanting to take it off. “Here—”
“No.” Bada’s hands find yours, holding them and stopping you from removing the jewelry. “Don’t take it off.”
“But Bada, this was your mom’s—”
“And I want you to have it,” Bada states firmly.
“I can’t—”
“Are you rejecting my gift?” Although her words sound accusatory, when you look into her eyes, there’s a glint of amusement in them.
You let out a huff of defeat. “Fine.”
Bada smirks proudly, removing her hands from yours. “Good.”
After bidding farewell to Bada, Hyo swiftly whisks you away to a black Jeep, one that, according to her, is "much more secure than a sports car." Seated in the front, she drives and engages in casual conversation while you relax in the back. You take the opportunity to share stories about each of your best friends—Jae, the liveliest, Da-Eun, the second oldest, Min-Ji, the oldest, and Ryung, the youngest and most timid. Hyo listens attentively, interjecting with comments or laughter at your anecdotes.
“You all seem to be very close,” she remarks, steering the wheel to the left.
“Yeah, we are. We’ve known each other since childhood, and our parents are all friends,” you reply.
“Those types of friends… you should hold onto them,” Hyo advises. “In this line of business, it’s hard to find someone you can trust as much as you four trust each other.”
You gaze at your bodygaurd through the rear-view mirror, sensing the weight behind her words. "Hyo?" You inquire.
"Yeah?"
"Does Bada find it hard to trust other people?"
Her lips tighten, an audible exhale leaving her nose. "She hasn't fully placed her trust in anyone since the day Mrs. Lee died."
A somber atmosphere envelops the car, akin to a bucket of ice-cold water. You shift in your seat uncomfortably, your heart aching at the thought of the pain Bada must have endured when her mother was killed. "Bada was still young when she passed, wasn’t she?"
"Fifteen," Hyo nods. "Barely beginning her climb towards adulthood."
A stark silence follows after, and the rest of the car ride is silent, filled only with the quiet hum of the Jeep’s engine and the sounds of passersby. It's not uncomfortable, but rather solemn, as if you and Hyo are silently mourning Mrs. Lee's memory.
Fifteen minutes later, Hyo's driving slows as she turns into a large house—though noticeably smaller than your shared one with Bada, of course. The GPS on the tablet beeps, signaling your arrival at the destination. "We’re here," her voice rings through the background noise.
You turn away from the window you’d been gazing out of, a smile forming on your lips at the sight of Jae’s house. Out of your group, Jae always had the most luxurious home, because though all of you came from affluent families, Jae's parents were the wealthiest. Well, it seemed like now the dynamic had changed. Once you and Bada are officially wed, your combined wealth will likely rival all of theirs combined.
"How long do you think you’ll be staying?" Hyo asks.
"I'd like to say it won't take that long, but knowing my friends, I might be here all night," you admit.
"Alright." Hyo parks the Jeep in the driveway, exits, then moves to open your door. You offer a quiet thank you as she helps you step out, mindful of the relatively short length of your dress.
Leading the way to Jae's house, you pause before knocking. Judging by the time, it seems you arrived slightly early, which in party terms means very early. Fortunately, that likely means no other partygoers are here yet, as evidenced by the absence of parked cars in the driveway.
"Actually, Hyo?" you turn back to face her, a sheepish look on your face. "Could you maybe… wait outside?"
Your bodyguard raises her eyebrows, crossing her arms across her chest. "I'm supposed to be keeping an eye on you."
"I know that, but I think the girls will be thrown off by the fact that you’ll just be standing there… watching us the entire night." Though your reasoning is somewhat woven with lies, it's also partly true.
Hyo remains silent, giving you an unimpressed look. "I have a job to do."
"Technically, you can do it from out here," you weakly argue. "Please, I want to feel like a normal person again. Like my life isn’t constantly at risk, and I always need to be monitored."
Although you can’t see the look Hyo’s giving you behind her sunglasses, you notice her posture deflating, and her shoulders falling. She releases a defeatist breath, "Fine, I’ll keep an eye out from here."
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" You express with a grateful smile.
"Yeah, yeah, never say I haven’t done anything for you," Hyo grumbles. "Oh, and don’t forget I have your location on my phone, so don’t even think about sneaking out because I’ll know."
"I wouldn’t dare," you joke.
"Right…" your bodyguard trails off. "I’ll be waiting in the car. If you need anything, just call or text me, and I’ll be out in an instant."
"Yup, thanks!" You give Hyo a thumbs up, and with that, she retreats back to the Jeep. You watch her go, a sudden wave of guilt crashing over you.
She'd probably be much more comfortable in Jae’s house, sitting down or enjoying the air conditioning, rather than waiting for countless hours in the Jeep while you gossip and talk to your friends. But you're in too deep now. You can’t tell her the truth or let her in, or she’ll whisk you away back to the mansion, and all your white lies will have been for naught.
Biting your lip, you cast one last look at Hyo before knocking on the front door. Silence greets you for a few minutes before you hear shuffling approach the door, and it opens. Jae’s face greets you on the other side, her eyes immediately sparkling at the sight of you.
"Oh my god!" She squeals, bringing you into a hug and squeezing you tight. "I’m so glad you’re here!" She rocks back and forth in the hug, making you laugh giddily. "I missed you so much!" When she pulls back, she’s wearing a pout across her red-tinted lips. "Don’t ghost me for a month again, okay? Or I’ll steal you away from your wife!"
"I missed you too," you say fondly. "But we’re not married yet—"
"Oh, come on, you’re engaged to Bada Lee! You’re married in every sense except legally." Jae rolls her eyes playfully, though they stray a bit before landing on something—or rather, someone—behind you. "Who’s that?" She points at the Jeep, where Hyo is sitting in the front seat, trying not to look like she's watching you.
"That’s Hyo Kim, my bodyguard."
"Your bodyguard?" Jae awes before pouting. "Why am I even surprised? Of course, Bada Lee would have her fiancée under lock and key." Jae grabs your hand, giving it a light squeeze before her expression shifts, a sly smile curving her lips. "So tell me, have you two done it yet? Is she dominant? Is she more of a boobs girl or an ass girl—"
"Jae!" You shout, eyes wide and voice full of mortification. "Are you serious right now?"
"Come on, tell me! I want to know all the stuff you haven’t told me over the past month. You owe it to me!" She whines.
You let out a long sigh. You suppose this is your karma for unintentionally ignoring your best friend for so long. "At least invite me in first, Jae. Don’t you have any manners?" You lightly scold her.
"Oh, right." She looks behind her, realizing that while she’s inside her home, you’re still outside the threshold, waiting for her to invite you in. She looks like she’s about to take a step back so you can enter before she pauses, a thoughtful expression crossing her features. "Wait, does she use toys—"
"Alright, that’s enough!" You push Jae further into her house and step inside, swinging the door shut rather loudly behind you.
Once inside, you scold her for a solid five minutes straight about manners before the two of you properly greet each other and begin a normal, casual conversation—thankfully with no mention of your and Bada’s sexual activity, or lack thereof. Instead, you're practically interrogated by Jae about every aspect of your life with Bada while you help her finish setting up for the party.
You stack up red solo cups, place beers into multiple coolers, and set out chasers. Thankfully, it doesn’t take much for the two of you to finish, and once you do, you simply lounge around a bit. Jae takes the break as an opportunity to compliment how amazing you look in your dress.
"Is that Chanel?" She asks, motioning for you to do a spin.
"Yes." You nod, doing as she wishes. "Bada picked it out for me."
"I bet she’s regretting her decision right now." Your friend giggles. "No one’s going to be able to resist you tonight!"
"Jae, stop exaggerating." You laugh.
Your lighthearted conversation continues until slowly but surely, party guests begin to arrive. They come in small waves, all dressed much more elegantly than the average partygoer. You assume they must be some of Jae’s rich friends that you’ve heard about only in passing because you don’t recognize some of them. The thought sends a small prickle of worry to the back of your mind, but you choose to ignore it for now. Instead, you greet each guest kindly, albeit rather awkwardly.
As the dark sky deepens in color, the living room starts to get more and more crowded, the rest of your friends arriving along with other guests. Min-Ji gets there first, wearing a classy black cocktail dress. She greets you with the same enthusiasm as Jae, but her demeanor is slightly more controlled, her older age shining through.
Next, Da-Eun arrives, dressed in green, and lastly, Ryung. By the time she settles in, the party is in full swing, music leaking out of speakers, and beers being passed around. You’re fully immersed in the atmosphere, happy to be surrounded by your girls and other somewhat familiar faces. You can’t lie, partying with your friends really puts into perspective the loneliness you hid behind your home’s mansion walls.
But in contrast to your free spirit, Hyo is struggling. Multiple cars have begun to pull into the driveway, groups of people entering the house and giving her a peek inside. The home has many more people than it should for a "small gathering."
Her first instinct was to exit the Jeep and head toward the door to end your night prematurely, as well as tell you off for not only lying to her but also to Bada. However, through one of the windows, your silhouette peaks through, the light in the living room shining against your features and displaying your expression of pure joy as you dance with your friends and sip beer.
She stops mid-stride, conflict brewing in the confines of her mind. Deep down, she knows you deserve to enjoy yourself. Being stuck in a mansion—while large and full of entertainment—is nothing compared to the comfort of being with friends, partying, and drinking. “Fuck.” Hyo mutters under her breath, passing a hand through her hair in frustration. She takes another look at your smiling figure through the window, then turns back. “The Boss is going to kill me if she finds out about this.”
She stays back in the Jeep for another hour or so, listening to the music coming from inside the house and the loud chatter, keeping an eye out while checking her phone every other minute. Your location never moves, thankfully. It seems that you have the foresight not to take it as far as sneaking away from her for some fun.
But, of course, there’s no need for you to do so because the party is practically buzzing with energy. Couples and friends dance together, grinding and touching each other playfully, while some are playing cup pong or various other party games in corners of the room. You, on the other hand, have moved away from dancing, instead cooling off with another beer as your friends chatter amongst each other.
“You’ll never guess what happens next!” Jae grabs onto Min-Ji, tugging on her hands with poorly concealed excitement.
“What?” Min-Ji indulges her younger friend.
“Bada stops him right before he leaves the store just by saying, ‘And where do you think you're going?’” Jae lowers her voice and puts on a serious expression when imitating your fiancée.
“Really?” Min-Ji's eyes find your figure, a small smile curving her lips upward.
You smile back at her shyly, nodding.
“And then, she makes the asshole pick up her clothes from the ground!” Jae divulges.
“Does he do it?” Da-Eun cuts in, smirking widely.
“Of course he does! Like a little worm, he picks up all the clothes and gives them to her.” Jae points at you, letting go of Min-Ji’s hands.
“Bada must have a very strong presence,” Ryung comments quietly.
“More like everyone in the store was on Bada’s payroll,” Jae snorts. “Right Unnie, didn’t you say Bada has ties to half the population of Seoul?”
“Yes,” you confirm. “I think everyone in that store had guns on them.”
“How do you know?” Min-Ji asks.
“Well, they were all putting their hands in their pockets like they were going to pull out a firearm,” you reminisce. “And they were all staring between the man and Bada like they were waiting for her word to dispose of him.”
“It’s so crazy hearing about it.” Jae whines. “I wish I was there!”
“Don’t say that.” Min-Ji scolds her. “It must have been scary at the time, wasn’t it?” She looks back at you, posing the question.
“I wasn’t really scared for myself.” You shake your head. “I was more scared for the man. You should have seen the way Bada was looking at him.”
“I can imagine it now.” Jae tries to imitate a hardened and scary glare but ends up failing.
“You just look like you’re constipated.” Da-Eun laughs loudly, pointing at a now offended Jae. The younger girl hits Da-Eun, whining about how she was really trying to look serious.
You join in laughing with Da-Eun and Min-Ji at Jae, when you suddenly feel a tug on your right hand. Your laughter dies down as you turn to face Ryung, who’s looking between you and another corner of the room. You give her a confused look, trying to find what she’s gazing at. “Ryung? Is something wrong?”
“A woman's been staring at you since she got here.” Ryung whispers, casting her eyes to the other corner of the room.
You follow her line of sight to an unfamiliar, relatively attractive woman dressed in a loose white dress shirt and slacks. She has fiery red hair and a boyish look. She’s already watching you, her eyes unabashedly trailing up and down your figure, completely unbothered by the fact that you caught her staring. In fact, she smirks back at you.
You turn away from her quickly, a prickle of anxiety running up your spine. Though most would be excited at being ogled by an attractive woman, there’s something about her gaze that unnerves you. It's like she knows something you don’t.
“Do you know her?” Ryung asks, a worried look crossing her features.
“No.” You shake your head, a trembling breath leaving your lips. “I’ve never seen her before in my life.”
Da-Eun, Min-Ji, and Jae stop laughing at the sound of your nervous voice, turning to face you with questioning looks.
“What’s going on?” Min-Ji asks, noticing your rigid posture and Ryung’s grim expression.
Jae mutters your name, her voice becoming uncharacteristically quiet.
“There’s this woman that’s been staring at Unnie the entire night.” Ryung secretly motions towards you, then looks back at the woman with red hair. All of your friends' eyes follow, seeing how the woman gazes at you darkly; even with all their eyes on her, she doesn’t cower. Instead, she continues to watch you.
“Alright.” Da-Eun rubs her hands together, her expression dripping with anger. “Let me go have a word with her—”
“Not so fast.” Min-Ji grabs onto Da-Eun’s arm, pulling her back and keeping her from advancing toward the woman. “Jae, do you know her?”
Jae bites her lip, shaking her head. “I don’t remember inviting anyone that looks like that.”
“Then let me—” Da-Eun tries to wiggle out of Min-Ji’s hold but is unsuccessful.
“Don’t be so rash.” Min-Ji asserts. “Let’s just ignore her. If she decides to bother you directly, we’ll be here, okay?” She looks back at you with a caring expression, placing her hand on your shoulder.
“Okay.” You agree shakily, turning your back toward the woman’s direction.
For the rest of the night, you constantly feel her eyes on you. Though you try to act normal, a spike of fear runs up your body when you see someone approach you or accidentally brush up against you while you dance with your friends. You consider asking Hyo to come get you, but you don’t want to sour the mood of your friends. So you deal with her predatory gaze, and do your best to ignore her overwhelming presence.
Hyo’s eyes scan the neighborhood leisurely when a notification banner pops up at the top of her screen. Her eyes snap toward it, finding a text message from none other than her boss light up the screen. She takes in a deep breath as she presses it, her screen being moved to the message app.
Bada’s text reads, “How’s it going?”
Hyo lets out a sigh of relief, quickly texting back, “Good, she’s having fun.” She watches Bada’s text bubble show up soon after indicating she was writing, but it disappears a few seconds later. Hyo takes the opportunity to add, “Her friends are very lively.”
Bada’s text bubble appears again, but this time she sends a message saying, “Focus on doing your job.” Hyo huffs under her breath, exiting out of the messaging app and switching back to managing your location.
Her brief distraction keeps her from noticing a new group of men heading toward the house. Most slip in, it’s only until the last is about to cross inside that Hyo looks up, her eyes catching a baggy of white powder one of the men is carrying.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” She hisses. Immediately she exits the car, dialing Bada’s personal phone as she races up the driveway and slips into the house behind the man.
Inside, you’re slowly becoming more and more unnerved by the red-haired woman. Your friends try to take you around the living room, using the other partygoer’s bodies as a shield between you two, but she doesn’t allow them to. She moves through the crowd until she has a clear view of you again, then just stands there, her gaze unwavering.
“She really doesn’t give up, huh?” Min-Ji curses under her breath.
“What a creep,” Da-Eun adds.
“Are you okay?” Ryung asks you.
“I don’t know.” You admit, rubbing your arm uncomfortably.
“Hold on,” Jae cuts in. “I think she’s coming this way.”
Four pairs of eyes snap in the direction Jae is looking, finding the woman weaving through the crowd of partygoers in an attempt to reach you.
This time your entire body goes rigid, intense fear running through your veins as your friends rally around you, muttering comforting words. Their voices and the loud bass of the music in the background fade away, all you’re able to focus on is the woman with red hair only a few feet away from you now.
She’s just about to reach you when a firm grip grabs onto your arm, pulling you away from your friends. You jump at the person’s touch, instinctively trying to recoil away before you turn to see a familiar face.
“Hyo.” You breathe out in relief.
“We’re leaving right now.” She says firmly, pulling you through the crowd of people.
“Hey!” Da-Eun surges forward at the sight of Hyo taking you away. “Who are you–?”
“No, it’s okay, that’s her bodyguard,” Jae informs your friends.
Your friends share resounding noises of astoundment before Hyo starts to firmly push you toward the exit. You say a hurried goodbye to them, catching out of the corner of your eye the red-haired woman. She’s now wearing a frown as she quickly retreats into the crowd of dancing bodies, hiding away from your gaze, as well as Hyo’s.
The entirety of the drive back home is dead silent, but this time it’s not comfortable. Hyo’s lips are set into thin and firm lines, her expression unchanging as she switches lanes and drives through the jet-black night. You try to will your voice to work and make idle conversation, but the words get stuck in your throat, a deep feeling of regret pooling at the depths of your stomach.
The car ride back unfortunately felt much shorter than the ride to Jae’s house had. One minute you're just barely pulling out of her driveway, and the next you're passing the gates into your mansion's driveway.
Hyo parks the car, exiting quickly and opening the door for you like she always does. You still say thank you, but this time she doesn’t acknowledge it, she simply lets you take the lead as you begin the walk of shame into your home.
Walking through the front door, the first floor is eerily quiet, missing the sounds of Bebe walking around or talking amongst themselves. You hesitate before walking up the right spiral staircase to the second floor, then move to your right toward the direction of your bedroom.
“We’re going this way.” Hyo breaks her silence, motioning with her thumb behind her, toward the corridor that leads to Bada’s office. You gulp but say nothing in response, instead choosing to listen to her and head toward your fiancée.
The sound of both your and Hyo’s footsteps echoing against the cold marble floor causes even more unease in your mind, the feeling all but tripling when you see a dark mahogany door come into view. You stop right in front of it, your legs starting to feel weak and your hands sweating. You try to build up your courage to knock on the door, but Hyo’s already a step ahead of you.
She doesn’t bother to knock, she simply grabs ahold of the door handle and pushes it open. She gestures for you to head inside which you do timidly, the door closing right behind you.
Inside the office, your eyes immediately find Bada’s figure. She’s sitting in her chair like she always is, looking incredibly tired. And instead of wearing a soft expression at the sight of you, her face is blank, not a single wisp of emotion to be seen.
“Sit down.” Her voice cuts through the tension in the air.
You do as she says, noting that she doesn’t get up to pull your chair back for you like she normally does. “Bada,” you begin, voice quiet and full of remorse.
“I heard you had fun tonight.” She cuts you off, her tone harsh. “A party, was it?”
You close your eyes in embarrassment. “I’m sorry–”
“Are you?” She interrupts you again. “Truthfully, are you?”
“Yes.” You say frantically, trying to convince her. “I didn’t mean for it to go this far.”
“You had multiple opportunities to tell me the truth.” Bada asserts, her hands coming in front of her to clasp together tightly. “The night before when I asked you about your so-called ‘get-together.’" She lists, "You could have told me anytime today, or Hyo when she was driving you. Instead, you unabashedly lied to my face and deceived me.”
You swear the wind is knocked out of your chest at her words. Her dark brown, almost grey eyes are cutting into yours, wounding your heart as you will something, anything out of your mute vocal cords. “Please believe me.”
“I can’t.” Bada shakes her head. “All I asked of you was three things.” Much like she had when you first arrived at the Lee mansion, she holds up three corresponding fingers. “Tell me the truth, remain loyal, and never put yourself in unnecessary danger.” She places all three fingers down. “Somehow you managed to disobey all of them in the span of a single night.”
Tears prick at the corner of your eyes, and heaving breaths start to build in your windpipe. You can deal with Bada being upset with you, but there’s something about her calm disappointment that hurts you more than you could have ever imagined.
“What would have happened if someone at that party brought a gun, hm? What if they knew who you are to me? What if they wanted to hurt me by hurting you?” Her voice slowly rises in volume but never reaches a full yell. “More than anything, you put yourself in danger. All for the sake of a good time.”
You hang your head in shame, acknowledging that she’s right.
“I can’t trust you anymore.” She states plainly.
Your head snaps up from its hunched position, your eyes widening at the implication of her words. “What? Bada, what does that mean?”
Your fiancée remains quiet for a moment, her blank look doing nothing to soothe your heightening fear. Then, she speaks up. “It’s late, you should go to sleep.”
“Go to sleep?” You cry. “Bada–”
“I’m sorry, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” She tears her eyes away from yours, staring to her right. “I can’t look at you right now.”
Her words are the final blow to your breaking heart. You stand up from your chair loudly, attempting to hide your devastated expression as tears fall from your eyes in steady streams. You race over to the door, pull it open, and run out of the office, accidentally bumping into Hyo on your way out. You don’t say anything to her, simply wanting to get as far away as possible.
Lusher, who’d been rounding the corner about to head into Bada’s office catches sight of your teary eyes and sighs. She makes eye contact with Hyo, sharing a knowing look with her before entering the office.
“I’m not in the mood, Lusher,” Bada mutters, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration.
“Don’t you think you were a little too hard on her?” Lusher contends.
“She put her life at risk,” Bada states firmly.
“She went to a party, so what? She’s at the age where she’s supposed to be having fun with her friends, clubbing and drinking.”
“She lied to me,” Bada argues.
“Listen, I know that–” before Lusher can finish her sentence, the door to Bada’s office opens again, this time much more violently. Hyo stands in the doorway, a worried look encompassing her features.
“What now?” Bada snaps at her.
“Boss,” Hyo huffs. “the keys to the Jeep are gone.”
“What?” Bada stands up with urgency, her blank expression morphing into nothing but unrivaled anger. “Where did you put them?”
“I had them in my pocket–” Hyo freezes, a look of realization glinting in her eyes before she stops and runs a hand down her face in frustration. “Your fiancée pickpocketed me.”
“She pickpocketed you?” Lusher says incredulously. “So she just left? But it’s dangerous to be out this late, and in that dress–”
“Lusher, gather all of Bebe.” Bada interrupts her, voice loud and commanding. “You,” she points at Hyo. “find her. Now.”
“Yes, boss.” Lusher and Hyo say in unison, scrambling to do what their superior asked of them.
Meanwhile, Bada remains standing behind her desk, a mix of fear and unadulterated anger building in her. She feels immediate regret for the way she’d treated and spoken to you. She never should have let you leave in such a vulnerable, and most likely intoxicated state.
She could never forgive herself if something happened to you because of your argument. She slams her hands down on her desk, almost breaking it with the amount of force she uses.
Bada storms out of her office, heading down the corridor toward her bedroom, pushing the door open before heading toward her bedside table. She opens the first drawer, revealing a black pistol. She grabs it, about to exit her bedroom when her eyes catch the portrait of her mother hanging just above her bedside table. She takes a moment to face it, her face morphing into a grim expression.
“I won’t fail you, mother.”
Lusher, Tatter, Kyma, Minah, Chehe, and Soweon, otherwise known as Bebe are all gathered in the armory room, guns in their hands. Lusher dons a sniper, Tatter a pump shotgun, Kyma a handgun, Minah a rifle, Cheche a break action, and Soweon a pistol.
“She managed to pickpocket Hyo?” Soweon exclaims, loading her pistol with bullets. “How is that possible?”
“She must not be as innocent as we thought.” Cheche comments. “Out of all of us, Hyo is the most alert and aware of her surroundings. She has some skill.”
“Enough talking.” Lusher cuts in, clicking a magazine into her sniper. “We’re wasting time. Boss wants us to find her as soon as possible.”
Bebe falls into line, following their second-in-command to the first level of the Lee mansion where Hyo is, tapping her foot against the marbled floor impatiently.
“Do you know where she is?” Bada’s booming voice causes all her subordinates to freeze. It’s brimming with urgency, and full of poison.
Hyo looks up at where her boss is standing at the top of the spiral staircase, her aura demonstrating absolute authority. “I think she’s lost her phone.”
“What do you mean?” Tatter speaks up.
“The location stopped moving right in front of her friend, Jae’s house. But it’s not inside, it’s farther down the road.”
The room becomes astoundingly quiet, so silent you could most certainly hear a pin drop. Although no one has the heart to say it, they all know the truth. You’ve been taken.
But then, Bada’s heavy footsteps begin descending the stairs, her eyes alit with a fiery passion and her eyes fixed into a firm glare.
“We’re finding my fiancée.” She demands. “And if she’s not home by the end of the night, it’ll be your head on a pike.” She points at Hyo, her pistol held firmly in her other hand.
“Yes, Boss,” Hyo says fearlessly. Truthfully, she felt partially at fault for what had happened. If she had only brought you home the second she realized you were throwing a party, or if she paid more attention when you bumped into her, you would be here, safe.
Before they can all head out, Bada’s phone buzzes in her pocket. She stops, pulling it out and observing the caller ID. Her eyes widen when she sees it, immediately pressing the answer button and holding the phone up to her ear. She mutters your name into the speaker, causing all of Bebe to freeze and look at her in shock.
“Where are you?” Bada says, voice soft and full of worry.
“Hello?” A voice that is most certainly not yours greets her ears.
Bada’s expression shifts immediately, her eyes narrowing to slits and her voice dropping. “Who the fuck is this?”
“Are you Bada Lee?” The voice says hurriedly.
“Yes. How did you get this phone? Where is my fiancée?” Bada demands.
“This is Jae, Unnie’s best friend.”
“Jae?” Bada says, her tone calming the slightest bit. “Where is she?”
“Bada, you need to come here quick.” She cries. “Unnie called me a few minutes ago saying she wanted to stay the night with me, but right when I saw her pulling into the driveway, another car parked beside her, and I think they took her!”
Bada’s hands form fists as she motions with her head for Bebe to go into the garage full of cars. They do so immediately, piling into a modified and armored SUV with a sunroof. Lusher sits behind the wheel while Hyo takes the passenger’s seat. The rest of the girls sit in the back, guns positioned in their laps, Minah poking out of the sunroof with her rifle propped up in front of her.
Bada follows after them, getting into her personal, fortified sports car as the door to the garage slowly begins to open. She puts Jae on speaker, “Did you see who took her?”
“It was dark, but I recognized one person,” Jae confirms. “It was this woman who was at the party I threw for Unnie. She was staring at her the entire night like a creep.”
“What does she look like?” Bada asks through her teeth.
“She’s wearing a white dress shirt, a pair of black pants… oh, and she has very vibrant, red hair!”
Bada pulls up next to Bebe’s car, her eyes meeting Lusher’s, a new type of rage building in her irises. “Seong.”
When you awake from your slumber there’s a pounding ache at the back of your head, and your eyes are blurry. You blink as you try to gather your bearings and sit up, but your arms are held behind your back by something. You start to panic, your head whipping around as you begin to remember what had happened just before you lost consciousness.
You’d been driving the Jeep toward Jae’s house whilst sobbing uncontrollably, realizing that your selfishness would most likely cost you your engagement to Bada.
When you were a few minutes away from Jae, you called her with trembling hands, breathing heavily into your phone.
Your friend muttered your name into the phone, sounding like she’d just woken up.
“I’m sorry.” Your voice shook with emotions. “Is it okay if I stay with you for the night?”
“Of course,” Jae answered immediately. “But what’s wrong? Have you been crying?”
“Bada and I got into a fight.” You admitted. “I think she’s going to call off the engagement.”
“What?” Jae’s incredulous voice rang out of the phone.
“I’ll tell you everything in a second, I’m right next to your house.” You made a left into Jae’s neighborhood, finding the lights in her house on. You parked a little further down the street, seeing stray liquor bottles and red solo cups littering her lawn, most likely thrown away by her drunk party guests. “Okay, I’m here.”
“Where?” Jae’s figure approached the window that oversaw her driveway, her eyes squinting as she tried to discern your body from the pitch-darkness of the night. “I don’t see you.”
You sniffled into the microphone, switching hands as you climbed out of the Jeep and waved your hands to get Jae’s attention. “To your right.”
Jae’s eyes shifted in your direction, and after searching for a few minutes her eyes shone with recognition. “Oh, I see you!” She waved back at you, the interaction distracting you to the point where you didn’t hear a car pull up next to you until people were clambering out of it, their heavy footfalls approaching you.
You jumped when you felt an arm grab you, gasping and struggling against their grip. “Let me go!”
Jae’s voice came out of your phone, saying your name, but before you could answer her or call out for help, something hard hit you in the back of your head and caused you to fall limp into your kidnapper's arms. But before you fully lost consciousness, you caught a brief glint of red hair from the corner of your eye.
“No.” You whisper, reality finally settling in. “No, no, no.” You try to move your hands, but your eyes find them secured behind your back with handcuffs. You struggle against them, trying to wiggle your hands out but they’re closed tight against your flesh, making the steel rub your skin raw. You hiss in pain but continue trying until your wrists are red. You try to move toward the wall behind you, leaning on it to help you stand up.
Once on your feet, you stomp on the floor, trying to break the heel of your platform heels. You repeat your action a few times on each foot until part of the heel breaks off, leaving you with shoes that are easier to run in. You huff out in exhaustion, but you’re not done yet. Using the wall once again, you attempt to get your arms in front of you by jumping and pulling your arms under you. Thankfully, you’re successful, and let out a breathy laugh of victory.
You slide down the wall, taking a small break when you suddenly hear footsteps coming close to the room you’re trapped in. Your eyes widen in fear as you try to back away further from the door.
“Look who’s awake.” The woman with red hair enters the room, her voice coming out in a sing-song.
“Who are you?” You rasp, sitting up tall. Although you’re terrified out of your mind, you know better than to show it.
“The name’s Seong, sweetheart.” She smirks, one of her lackeys trailing after her. “And you have something I want.” You stare back at her as she gets closer to you, bending down so you’re at eye level. “Not going to ask me what it is?”
You say nothing, instead just keep eye contact with her, never once wavering under her unnerving gaze.
“Ah, we have a strong one here.” Seong laughs heartily. “I can see why Bada keeps you around.”
Mentally, you curse at yourself. Of course you’d been kidnapped as some sort of leverage piece between this woman and Bada. She’s most likely one of the rival gangs that’d been waiting for the chance to pounce at an opening to get through to Bada. And you’d stupidly given her the perfect opportunity.
“Well…” Seong’s voice drops, chills running down your spine as her eyes lower to your figure. “I’m guessing she doesn’t just appreciate your banter, huh?” She reaches out to touch you, her cold hands dragging across your collarbones. “So pretty…”
“Don’t touch me.” You spit, tone dripping with disgust as you recoil away from her.
“So lively too.” Seong chuckles.
“Bada’s going to come get me.” You cut in, glaring at the woman with fiery hair.
“Oh yes, I’m counting on that.” Seong smiles. “You know, she owes me a lot of money.” She stands up and begins to pace around the room. “My father and her father used to work together back in the day. But once Lee died and your little wife took over his business, she cut ties with him. Apparently, selling drugs is too ‘corrupt’ for her.” She scoffs loudly, the sound full of resentment and anger. “My father lost all his connections. He had to start selling to junkies on the streets, and now he’s running out of money.”
She stops in front of you again, a twisted smile stretching across her face.
“Bring him in,” Seong says to the lackey behind her. He follows her orders, trailing out of the room before he returns minutes later, a man shuffling behind him. When the man steps into the low light of the room, you audibly gasp and your eyes widen. “Remember him?” Seong stands next to the man–the same man from the mall. The man that’d harassed you, and had been humiliated by Bada.
Here he stands, the right side of his face swollen and colored in grotesque combinations of yellow and purple bruises.
“You.” The man rasps, his eyes shining with a crazy glint.
“This man right here was beaten half to death by Bada when I found him lying on the street.” Seong pats his shoulder. “Imagine my surprise when he told me how he’d accidentally hit on the Bada Lee’s fiancée, and almost gotten himself killed because of it.” She circles around the man. “Finding you after that didn’t take much. And look at you now…”
“Lying on the floor like some pathetic bitch.” The man spits. “How does it feel?”
“Go to hell.” You snap at him, eyes set in a glare.
“You should be careful how you speak to me.” The man warns you, walking closer before he bends down in front of you. “You’re the one who’s restrained, and at our mercy.”
“And yet despite that, it’ll be your blood that stains this floor when Bada finds me.” You retaliate.
The man’s face screws up in anger, and in a flash, he grabs onto your necklace, using it to tug you forward painfully. “You bitch–”
Your eyes go wide as you watch your necklace–Bada’s mother’s necklace–stretch in his hold. “No–” you choke out, using what little control you have of your hands to slug them against his face, taking his hands off the necklace. But unfortunately, his strength ends up ripping it off your neck, the broken jewelry falling onto the ground. “No!” You cry, scrambling over to the necklace, trying to grab it with your hands.
The man turns to face you, wearing a look of anger you’d never seen before in your life. He raises his fist, about to punch you when a hand stops him from doing so.
“Now, now, let’s not get too caught up in our anger.” Seong pulls the man away from you and pushes him toward the door. “We’ll have our fun once Bada arrives, believe me. You can do the honors of killing her if you really want to.”
Seong follows the man out of the room, her lackey trailing behind her before she stops to give you one final look, and closes the door to your room, leaving you trembling and in almost complete darkness.
In the raven black of the night, Bada, Tatter, Chehe, Hyo, Kyma, Minah, and Soweon stand at the door to Seong’s hideout, guns held tightly in their hands. Bada turns to look at a building across the street, holding a thumbs up in the air. Atop the building is Lusher, her sniper propped up against the ledge of the roof, her scope focused on Bada’s signal. She traces the red dot coming from her sniper around Bada’s thumb, indicating she’s ready.
“Lusher’s in position.” Bada turns back to face Bebe, nodding at them. “Let’s not waste any more time.”
“Yes, Boss.” They all parrot in response.
Bada turns to face the doorknob, pointing her gun at it before shooting. Tatter steps up first, shouldering the door open with intense force, making it swing open and reveal Seong’s hideout. Some lackeys that had been standing around jump at the sudden intrusion, their hands instinctively reaching for their guns. But all of Bebe’s members are twice as fast and skilled. Tatter shoots down one man with her shotgun while the rest of Bebe pile in, backing her up and mulling down the waves of oncoming men like they’re bugs.
Bada steps in last, shooting a man who was running in as backup, then shooting another who almost managed to get a shot in on Minah. She charges forward without fear, cutting through the mess of flying bullets and punching one of Seong’s men in the gut, then shooting him between the eyes. His blood splatters against the side of her suit as she kicks his body away, continuing her advance until she makes it out of the entrance of the hideout, and into a split hallway.
Bada keeps her pistol trained up and ears keen as she hears Lusher’s sniper bullets break through glass windows and hit some of the men still flocking to the entrance. An emergency alarm begins to blare in the hideout, red lights bathing Bada’s figure as she studies both paths ahead of her.
Suddenly to her right, she hears loud footsteps approaching and whips around to face a man running down the hallway. Thinking quickly, she shoots him in the foot before he has the chance to reach for his gun. He falls to the floor, screaming in pain whilst clutching his wounded foot. Bada walks over to him, kicking his gun away then aiming her pistol at his head.
“Where is she?” She yells over the loud, blaring alarm.
“I don’t know who you’re talking about.” The lackey wails.
“Yes you do. Tell me or I’ll kill you!” Bada places her pistol on the man’s forehead, making his pathetic wailing increase.
“Okay, okay, just please don’t shoot me!” He begs.
Bada grabs the man by his clothes, hoisting him up and pushing him forward, causing him to stumble and almost fall onto the floor again. “Show me the way, now!”
The man cries as he hobbles forward, leading her in your direction.
“Fifty-five, fifty-six, fifty-seven…” your voice mutters amidst the silence, keeping track of the minutes passing by since Seong left. You stare at the steel door separating you from your freedom, hoping with every minute you count, Bada gets closer to finding and rescuing you.
It’s at minute forty-two when bright, red lights flood your room, blinding you and throwing you off your count as loud alarms sound outside. You sit up, your heart beating wildly in your chest.
“Bada…” you sigh in relief. She came for you.
Another five minutes pass before you hear movement coming towards your room, making you scramble towards the door. But when it opens, you’re not greeted by the sight of your fiancée. No, instead, Seong rushes inside, her red hair ruffled and her breaths uneven as she closes the door behind her.
“Fucking–” She mutters, her eyes finding you instantly.
“I told you.” You smirk. “You’re all dead.”
Seong stares back at you silently before charging up to you and slapping you across the face. You shriek and recoil back as she breaks into manic laughter, pulling out a gun from her pocket. “Maybe, but if I die, you’re coming with me, sweetheart.” She clicks the safety off, her finger in position to press against the trigger when three loud bangs come from outside your prison, making you scramble back in shock, and Seong turn to face the door.
A long moment of tense silence follows before the door to your prison slowly creeks open, Seong gulping as the hand holding her gun starts to tremble. Right before the door fully swings open, a shot is fired from the person outside, grazing Seong’s cheek and making her cower away.
She runs over to you, picks you up from the floor and holds onto you by your throat, her gun pressed up against your temple. "Don't get any closer, Bada Lee,” Seong yells, digging her fingers into your throat. “or I’ll kill her!”
Bada side-steps away from the door, revealing one of Seong’s men dead behind her, blood leaking from his foot and his forehead. “Let her go, Seong,” Bada demands. “Your problem is with me, not with her.”
“But that’s just the thing, isn’t it? When you hurt one person, the people you care about suffer!” Seong laughs maniacally. “You had no mercy for my family, so why should I have any for yours?”
“You did all of this because I refused to sell your drugs?” Bada spits, her voice dripping with venom. “You’re pathetic, just like your father.”
Seong’s face reflects sheer anger in response to Bada’s words. She’s about to pull the trigger of her gun when Bada shoots first. She hits Seong in the knee, causing her to collapse and shoot the ceiling instead of you. You scramble away as Bada lunges forward, tackling Seong and knocking the gun out of her hand before she can try to shoot at you again.
Unfortunately, Seong is strong as well and fights back against Bada for her gun, both trading blows with each other until Seong manages to get Bada’s gun from her grasp. She pistol whips Bada in the face, giving her a cut across the nose as Bada falls to the floor, blood falling from her wound.
“Not so tough now, huh, Lee?” Seong screams as she points Bada’s very own gun at her.
“You should know that even if you kill me,” Bada says through heaving breaths, “you’ll still never make it out of this building alive.”
Seong bares her teeth at Bada, pushing her gun closer to her temple. “You’ll still be dead.”
“Don’t!” You scream, emerging from behind Seong, holding her gun. “Put the gun down or I’ll shoot.”
Seong clicks her tongue, laughing condescendingly as she turns to face you. “You don’t have the guts to kill me.”
“But I do.” Bada jabs her fist into Seong’s stomach, knocking the woman off of her and the air out of her lungs. Bada takes her gun back and places it in her pocket as the woman with red hair heaves against the floor, her eyes the size of saucers.
Bada walks over to your trembling figure, her gaze soft as her hands come up to grab yours that are still holding onto Seong’s gun.
“It’s okay, you’re okay.” She whispers tenderly into your ear, bringing you against her chest as she quietly soothes your shaky breaths.
“I thought you were–” You begin, the words falling from your mouth through gasps.
“I know, I know.” She shushes you. “Everything’s all right now. Give me the gun, honey.” You let go of Seong’s gun, allowing Bada to take it into her hands as she faces the red-haired woman who’s writhing on the floor. “You should have known better than to touch the people I care about, Seong.” Bada’s voice is cold, and more charged with rage than you’ve ever heard her carry before. “You’ll always be your father’s waste of a daughter.”
Through Seong’s choking breaths, you hear a sob wrack her voice, tears falling from her eyes and running down the sides of her face.
Before Bada pulls the trigger, her unoccupied hand comes down to shield your eyes. “Don’t look,” She whispers softly, “and cover your ears.” With tears streaming down your face, you plug your ears and shut your eyes, a deafening shot following soon after. A few minutes pass before you feel Bada move you around, hugging you close to her chest as she breathes a sigh of relief. “It’s over.”
It’s like the floodgates open at the sound of Bada’s soothing voice because you start to sob violently into her chest, wishing you could cling onto her, but you can’t your hands still restrained by handcuffs. “Bada.” You cry, burying your face into her warm body heat.
“I know, I’m so sorry.” She whispers. “I came as fast as I could.”
“I thought she was going to shoot you.” You sob. “I was so scared–”
“Shh, it’s all right honey, I promise. I’m okay.” She pats the back of your head before pulling away to gaze into your eyes. They’re wide and filled with tears, but so infinitely beautiful to her. Bada wipes your tears away with her thumb, smiling softly at you. She takes a step back, taking off her suit jacket before placing it onto your shoulders and rubbing up and down your arms. “Let’s go home, okay?”
Bada’s room is warm, the atmosphere a far cry from the prison you’d been held in. You sit on Bada’s fluffy bed, staring into the distance with a faraway expression while waiting for her to return.
Thankfully she does as soon as the thought crosses your mind. She makes her presence known by knocking gently on the wood of her bedroom door. “Can I come in?”
“Yes.” You croak.
Bada enters the room with a mug of piping tea in one hand, and uses her unoccupied one to close the door behind her. She sits next to you on the bed, handing you the mug while muttering a soft warning about how hot it is.
“Thank you.” You say quietly, taking the drink and blowing on it.
Bada places her big hand on your thigh, rubbing it gently as she looks into your downcast eyes. “How are you feeling?”
“Better now that you’re here.” You admit, staring at the ripples in the tea caused by your breath.
“I’m glad.” Bada’s eyes move from yours to your hands, noticing how red and raw your wrists are. She removes her hand from your thigh, gently touching your wrist so she can turn it over to get a better look at it. “Should I get you some pain medicine?”
“No.” You answer quickly, your eyes shooting up from your tea and meeting hers. “Stay with me, please.”
Bada nods silently, rubbing the skin just above your wrist. “I’m sorry.” She whispers grimly. “You got hurt because of me.”
You stare at Bada with an incredulous look, shaking your head rapidly. “It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t lied to you and went to that party, Seong would have never been able to get to me–”
“You went to that party because you missed your friends,” Bada argues back lightly. “I deprived you of a social life in my obsession with keeping you safe, and look at where it got us.”
“Bada Lee, this is not your fault.” You say firmly. “You saved my life.”
Bada looks like she wants to argue more, but holds herself back. The silence between you two allows your still-racing mind to catch up, and you suddenly sit up, eyes wide and full of sorrow.
"What is it?" Bada questions, noticing your expression.
"Bada..." you trail off, turning to the side to grab something you'd hidden. Facing her again, her mother's broken necklace is in the palm of you hand. "I'm so sorry. I tried to keep it safe..."
Bada takes the necklace out of your hand and holds it up in front of you both. "I don't care."
"What?" You breathe incredulously. "But Bada, it was your mother's–"
"And it can be fixed." She says softly. “I’m just glad you’re safe.”
Your look of shock melts into a sappy smile. “Me too.” You agree, placing your mug-free hand on top of Bada’s. She moves her hand around, weaving your fingers together tenderly as her thumb swipes across the skin of your hand.
“Did Seong hurt you anywhere else?” Bada asks, scanning your face for injuries.
You turn your face to your right, showing her your left cheek, which is now slightly bruised. “She slapped me.”
Bada’s eyes take in your injured cheek, a storm of emotions flashing in her irises for nothing more than a split second before she masks it with a caring expression. She brings up your arm so that it’s in front of her, places her lips on your hurt wrist, then she brings it back down and brushes her other hand across your left cheek. She leans in, pressing a soft kiss to each of the growing bruises.
When she’s done she leans back, nothing but pure care in her eyes as she gazes at you.
“Can I ask you something?” You mumble, butterflies dancing in the pit of your stomach.
“You can ask me anything, honey,” Bada whispers, tracing shapes onto your hands.
“You always kiss my injuries.” You point out, careful to keep your voice sweet so she knows you like her display of affection. “Is there a reason why?”
Bada’s eyes leave yours for a brief moment, finding something above your head and gazing there before her eyes move back to you. “My mother, she used to…” she trails off, “she used to do that when I was younger. It always made me feel better.”
You smile softly at Bada, warmth flooding your veins. “That’s beautiful.”
She smiles back at you, muttering a soft thank you. You both allow a comfortable silence to fill the room until an idea pops into your head.
You quickly place your mug of tea on Bada’s beside table, then turn to face her. She gives you a confused expression when you take both of her hands and lift them up. Bada’s long fingers curl against yours, displaying her bloody and bruised knuckles. You lean down, placing a soft kiss next to each of them, unable to see how Bada’s eyes widen at your actions until you pull away.
When you look back at her, she’s looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky. You smile at her, then lean up, placing one final kiss on her nose, right below the cut Seong made.
Pulling away for the final time, Bada brings you closer to her, missing your warmth as she touches her forehead to yours and closes her eyes.
“Please never leave me again.”
❝ should my hands be stained with blood, let them be so, solely for you. ❞
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hi i just wanted to say i love your writing so much and thank you for all that you do!! i’m not sure if your requests are open but i would love melissa coming home from a brunch with barb and accidentally hearing readers angelic voice for the first time. like saturn by sza on blast while cleaning or something
this one was like genuinely just inserting myself into this story... i loved writing this short little ditty.
Sing Me a Melody
“I’ll be back, babe,” Melissa tells you as she presses a kiss to your head. You’re still laying in bed, but she’s up and about getting ready to head to brunch with Barbara. The two had invited you along, but you politely declined. You’ve been drained lately, and your body is craving the sleep that it’s been missing out on lately.
“Sounds good,” you reply softly, eyes half open. “If you need me to come pick the two of you up again-”
“This place does not have bottomless mimosas,” your girlfriend smirks. “I already checked.”
“Still,” you chuckle.
The last time the two work wives had gone out to brunch, they accidentally picked a place that offered bottomless drinks, and… you got a call around one from the place, claiming that you had to come pick the two up or they would be arrested for public intoxication.
Of course, you were their knight in shining armor, but you could hear the way that Melissa was protesting being ‘thrown out of the restaurant’.
“Honey,” you had tried to explain to her so many times. “They aren’t kicking you out. They’re closing, and they’re helping you by not throwing you out onto the street to get arrested.”
She had huffed the entire way home, and Barbara couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous her friend was being- it reminded her of the way her kindergarteners act when they didn’t get their way.
Once they both sobered up at your place, they were beyond hungover. They claimed they were never drinking again- until the next time. But they vowed that they would never go to a bottomless mimosa place again unless you were there to supervise (which would also lead you to get heavily intoxicated, and then all three of you were hungover as hell after breakfast).
After Melissa leaves, you sigh. You should probably be getting up for the day, but you really would rather be lounging around and doing nothing all day. So you stay in bed for a bit longer, scrolling through the different social media apps that you have on your phone. It’s nearing noon when you decide to finally get out of bed and become a functioning human of society.
You roll out of bed and throw on Melissa’s sweatshirt that she wore to bed last night, loving that it still smells like her. You ball up the ends and hold them tight as you make your way into the living room and kitchen. You pull up Spotify and put up your playlist that has soft music. You reach for your coffee mug, loving that there is already warm coffee in the pot. You pour yourself a generous amount before fixing it to your liking. That first sip is perfect, warming your cold body- the knowledge that Melissa had prepared that pot of coffee warms your heart and your soul.
You curl up on the couch with your mug and a good book, fully planning on catching up on your book while your girlfriend is out for the day. You get about four pages in before you realize that you just can’t focus with the music playing quietly from the television. You reach for the remote and turn of the device before cozying back up with your book.
Still though, you can’t focus. You’ve read the same page four times, and you still haven’t taken in the information on the page. So, with a frustrated sigh, you put your bookmark in and close the worn book that you borrowed from the library.
You don’t really know what else to do, so you sit on your phone for a bit longer and scroll mindlessly through TikTok. But eventually, that becomes boring to you too.
You have papers that you could continue to grade, so you huff as you go back up to the bedroom and grab your school bag filled to the brim with essays to grade.
You get through about half before you’re beyond frustrated. You have no idea what you’re supposed to do while you wait for Melissa to come home- the two of you have plans to curl up on the couch and watch a movie when she gets home, so you don’t want to start watching television now. But then you remember that Melissa has a guitar that she keeps in the living room, mostly for decoration. You haven’t played guitar in years… but maybe?
You quit when after… well, it doesn’t quite matter. He’s long gone, and you thought your love of creating music was too. The point is, you haven’t picked up a guitar or thought about playing in so long.
Curious about your ability after years of not playing, you cross the room and pick up the guitar. Looking at it, the strings are somehow not rusted, the neck seems to be in the right place, and there are no cracks in the body. You strum it, and it’s terribly out of tune.
Taking it back to the couch with you, you tune it up quickly and strum again. It sounds beautiful.
Muscle memory takes over, and while your fingers are going to be shredded after digging the tips of your fingers into the strings without any calluses, you feel somewhat healed being able to play again. You go up and down the neck, fingers strumming and picking different melodies that you remember.
You clear your throat before softly beginning to hum the melody of the song to the tune that you’re playing.
Eventually, you start singing freely- playing some oldies, some of the newer songs you know, playing around with songs that you’ve heard on the radio that are simple enough to break down into basic chords that you can sing over, and even just fully starting to sing songs that you’re making up on the spot.
You used to love writing music. It used to be the thing that you were most passionate about- but he took that love with him. You really should start writing down the lyrics and music that you’re making up.
You settle for singing a few of the old songs that you had written, and you get so into the music that you don’t hear the door open.
Melissa makes her way in, full from brunch and expecting to see you on the couch with your book in your hands, when she hears a melody and a voice that she’s never heard before- it’s beautiful. It doesn’t sound like it’s coming from the television or from the speaker on your phone. She steps into the living room to see you sitting criss crossed with the decorative guitar that she keeps. You look angelic, the light hitting your face as you have your eyes closed and you’re singing from the heart.
She had no idea you could play. She had no idea you could sing. She sets her purse down silently, eyes never leaving you. The redhead sits quietly, absolutely enamored with your voice and hidden talent.
Only once you’re done singing one of the songs you had written in college does she make her presence known, applauding you. Your eyes snap open, and your face immediately flushes red. You had no idea she was there, much less heard you sing.
“Hun,” she breathes. “Holy shit.”
You bite your lip and tuck your hair behind nervously. You have no idea what she’s about to say. Is she going to yell at you for touching the decoration? “Yeah?”
“When the hell were you going to tell me about this?”
“I- uh,” you shrug. “About what?”
She gestures to the instrument in your hand. “That. I had no idea you could play.”
“I didn’t either?” you smile nervously.
“I’m callin’ bullshit on that one. I mean, I knew you had could kind of hold a tune with all of your humming to the radio, but… babe, you sound like an angel.”
Your blush only gets worse at her sweet words. “I’m not that good.”
“You are,” she insists. “What song were you singing?”
“I don’t know it’s name,” you tell her honestly.
She makes a face. “What do you mean you don’t know the song’s name? It’s clear you know the song very well.”
You scratch the back of your neck. You suppose with two secrets out- that you can sing and play guitar, you should admit this one too. “I don’t know the name of the song because… I wrote it and never gave it a name.”
Her eyes go comically wide, and her jaw drops. “You wrote that?!”
“Y-yeah?”
“Honey, that’s something I would hear on the radio!” she exclaims. “Why aren’t you a famous singer/songwriter?”
“Not in the cards for me,” you chuckle nervously. “My heart belongs with the kids.”
She shakes her head. “How long have you been playing?”
“I started when I was four… but I haven’t played or sung in years. Lost… my passion for it,” you frown a bit. “But uh, that felt nice. Sorry I touched your guitar without asking first.”
“Hun, if I had known you could play, I would’ve been begging you to play it for the last two years.”
“It’s been longer than two years since I’ve played,” you shrug. “I didn’t know I could still play like that.”
“What other secret talents do you have?” she teases.
You purse your lips as you think, plucking the strings absentmindedly to create a beautiful little lick. “I can play the uke, I write songs when I’m feeling inspired, I used to paint a lot… I can make balloon animals and juggle?” you chuckle softly. “And I used to do gymnastics… was pretty damn good at it too.”
“I think you’re more mysterious than I am,” Melissa laughs. “Damn, babe. I won the lottery with you.”
“I wouldn’t say that.” You roll your eyes.
“I did,” she tells you seriously as she picks herself up and settles on the couch near you. “Sing to me?”
“I thought we were gonna watch a movie when you got home,” you tell her quietly.
She hums. “We can watch a movie after I’ve listened to you for a while… I mean it when I say you got a voice on you. I wanna hear it.”
You spend almost the whole day singing to her- all of the songs that you know, all the songs that you’ve written, and just little melodies that you come up with in the moment. Your fingers are shredding and aching by the time you put down the instrument, but it’s worth it to see the relaxed smile on your girlfriend’s face.
After you put down the guitar, you curl into her arms and watch the movie that you were promised. She falls asleep halfway through. You find yourself looking longingly at the guitar, and by the time she’s woken up, you’ve written another song- one about her: Redheaded Angel.
#melissa schemmenti fanfic#melissa schemmenti x you#melissa schemmenti#melissa schemmenti x reader#melissa schemmenti fanfiction#abbott elementary fanfic#abbott elementary fanfiction#abbott elementary
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𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒂… 𝑰 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒆𝒙𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒊𝒏
🎄christmas masterlist🎄
warning - smut, oral sex, sex, stalker behaviour, breeding kink, maybe a bad pun?, human reader, santa male, reader may be a bit of a whore, but I can't blame her, slight angst, slight fluff, maybe a bit of kidnapping? (but, like... what's really considered kidnapping? especially if it's by ari)
18+ only please, christmas present for you all but mostly for @royalsweetteaa, the gif and header aren't mine. merry christmas!🎅🏻
Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.
You scurry around the kitchen, whipping yourself up a hot chocolate. The past few weeks have been… Interesting, to say the least, from having the cutest little men accompany you to a giant monstrous man devouring you. Your mind was fuzzy, wondering if you’ll ever see them again. Grabbing your drink, you slowly make your way to your lounge room, prepared to watch one of your favourite Christmas movies.
Your mind is too focused on not spilling your drink that you don’t notice the older man sitting in your chair. His legs spread, thighs and bulge straining against his red pants. Darkened blue eyes glare at your small form as you walk in his direction. Ari’s hand lifts to his thick greying beard, wondering if you will ever look up. Not that he will complain if you sit on his lap and tell him what you want for Christmas. “I never expected your favourite Christmas movie to be How The Grinch Stole Christmas” A charming grin makes its way onto Ari’s face when he watches you jump slightly. Your head snaps up, and you stare at him with wide eyes. Your grip is tightly wrapped around your cup, ensuring the liquid doesn’t spill.
Your eyes take in his tight red and white outfit, subconsciously licking your lips as your eyes trail down his body, loving how it fits his form perfectly. Your brows furrow as the pieces begin to fit together, the outfit, the greying beard, the red hat with a white pom pom on top. Your eyes slowly move back up his body before connecting with his blue ones. “You’re Santa?” You slowly place your drink down, becoming curious about the man you swear you’ve seen before.
Ari chuckles, leaning back into the chair. “Mmhm, and you’re my little hoe… hoe… hoe.” His joyous chuckle fills the room at his pun, and you giggle as well, feeling your heart warm at the sound of his laugh. A small smile takes place on Ari’s face as the laughter dies down, and his large veiny hand pats his thigh. “Come sit and tell Santa what you want for Christmas.” Ari watches you hesitate, worrying your lip as you think. “Unless you want to be named Naughty.” Slowly he moves to stand, but a loud humph escapes him when you land roughly onto his lap.
You look up at Ari, eyes slightly fluttering as his warmth seeps into you. A calming feeling washes over you as you take in his scent. The smell of Christmas fills your nose, warming your insides. “Now, what’s a little girl like you want for Christmas? I mean… It shouldn’t be a lot seeing as you’ve had my elves and even the big bad Grinch.” Ari’s grip tightens on you.
Your cheeks turn rosy pink, and you stare at him with wide eyes, chewing on your bottom lip as you try to think of an explanation. “I can explain… I… They…” Your brows furrow as you begin to pout, not knowing what to say.
Ari grins as he watches you struggle, pulling your small body closer to his larger form. “Don’t worry about it, darling. Now, what do you want for Christmas?” Ari rests his chin on your shoulder, his eyes slowly closing as he takes in your sweet scent, humming as he waits for a response. Ari can feel you begin to squirm against his throbbing member, holding back his groan as you continue. His thumb rubs the exposed skin on your hip, “hmm? I am Santa. I can get you anything your heart desires. All you have to do is tell me.”
You relax into his body, feeling anxious about what you really want. “I… I want to be loved… and not just for one night but for eternity.” Both you and Ari can feel your heart speed up, how your breath hitches after you’ve spoken of what you truly desire. “B–But… If that’s too hard, I would like a pet. Nothing too big, maybe just something small.”
Ari’s breath against your neck sends shivers down your body, “I think I can do both, but only for you.” He spins you around in his lap, causing you to face him. “But, for the first one. You do have to give yourself over to me. It’s the only way it’ll work.” Ari stares at you with his big blue eyes, his gaze flickering down to your plump lips as a soft smile spreads across your face, your head nodding rapidly.
“I’ll do anything!” Tears are brought to your eyes as you think of finally getting your wish. No longer will you be alone or unwanted. You give Ari a bright smile when he grins at you, his hand coming up and resting on your cheek while his thumb strokes it. Subconsciously grinding down onto the large bulge in his pants, feeling the pool of slick building between your legs.
“Anything?” You nod again. Ari smirks at how eager you are. “Will you keep Santa warm even after I’m done breeding you?” The nod you give sends shocks of pleasure straight to his thickening cock, the member nearly breaking through the material as he hardens. Ari lifts you slightly, pulling his cock free before settling you back onto his lap. A grunt leaves him when your soaked core touches him, “Aren’t you a naughty girl, wearing nothing underneath this whole time while sitting on a stranger’s lap? You were expecting this, weren’t you?” The shy look you give him answers his questions.
Biting your lip, you slowly begin to rub yourself against him. Soaking Ari’s giant cock, soft moans escape you when his thick mushroom tip hits your swollen clit. “Please, Santa! I’ve been a good girl!” A scream falls from your lips when Ari thrusts himself deep inside, not giving you any time to adjust as he grips your hips and fucks you down onto his cock. Your head falls back, eyes rolling to the back, mouth hanging open. “F–Feels good! So good! Please!”
Ari growls, his eyes fluttering as he feels your juices soak his pants. His hips thrust rapidly, hitting your sweet spot perfectly as his heavy sacks tighten. “Good fucking girl! You’re so fucking tight!” Quickly standing, Ari continues to fuck into you as he lies you down on the couch. His large form covers you as he pounds deep inside your tight little hole. The girth of his cock stretches you perfectly. “You feel so good, darling! You’ll forever be mine once I fill you up!” Ari buries his face into your neck, planting kisses and marks along your flesh. His grunts and your moans fill the room, and the feel of your walls fluttering around him causes Ari to bite down on your neck before he grunts into your ear. “You’re going to carry my children! Walking around the North Pole, swollen and glowing!”
“Everyone!” thrust “will!” thrust “know!” thrust “your!” thrust “MINE!!” With a rawr, Ari’s hips stutter roughly into you, his balls tightening, and his chest heaves as he cums deep inside your cunt. Spurts of warm white cum shoot out of his swollen tip, overfilling your womb. He continues to thrust until your back arches, walls squeezing and milking his throbbing member as your orgasm hits hard, your sweet juices squirting out of you and soaking his uniform. Ari falls onto you, trying to catch his breath as you wrap your tiny arms around his muscular body. He pulls back and looks deep into your eyes with a dazed smile. “You’re my good girl, understand?”
“Yes, I’m your good girl.” He slowly pulls out of you before moving down your exhausted body, opening your legs so that he can see his cum leak out. He groans, his thick fingers moving closer to your quivering hole and pushing it back inside. He leans forward and takes your swollen clit between his lips, beginning to suck. His fingers thrust and curl as he laps at your cute little button. “Santa! Oh! Fuck!” A slap fills the room, and your back arches as pain and pleasure shoot through your cunt and up your spine.
“Bad girl! No swearing!” He growls into your cunt, burying his face deep into your sweet honey pot. “You taste so fucking sweet! I get why my elves and The Grinch are so fucking obsessed!” His tongue and fingers move fast against your sweet cunt, and the groans that leave his lips add extra vibrations to his movements, causing pornographic screams to escape you. When Ari curls his fingers into the correct spot, black spots cover your vision as your back arches, your eyes roll back, and your juices squirt out of you and directly into Ari’s mouth. He groans as he drinks your sweetness up, not missing a spot.
Ari pulls back, sitting on his legs as he looks at you. His greying beard is covered in your juices, and his hat has fallen off, causing his long hair to stick to his sweaty forehead. His darkened eyes peer down at your blacked-out form, a smirk making its way onto his face as he glances down at your puffy red pussy. Standing, Ari fixes his uniform, tucking his cock back in and snapping his fingers, causing himself to look as good as new before he looks around the room. With a wave of his hand, everything in your house disappears. Ari leans down, picking you up bridal style before disappearing back to the North Pole. As you both appear in his bedroom, he lays you down onto his soft, red and green silk sheets and glances down at you with a soft smile. “I can’t wait for you to be full with my children.” Ari gently kisses your forehead, and his hand comes up and strokes your cheek. “Welcome home, Mrs Claus.”
thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
#imyourbratzdollwork#imyourbratzdollchristmas#chris evans x female reader#ari levinson imagine#chris evans x reader#ari levinson fic#chris evans fanfiction#ari levinson fanfiction#chris evans#ari levinson#chris evans angst#ari levinson angst#chris evans blurb#ari levinson fanfic#chris evans character#ari levinson fluff#chris evans characters#ari levinson x fem!reader#chris evans drabble#ari levinson x female reader#chris evans fan fic#ari levinson x reader#chris evans fan fiction#ari levinson x y/n#chris evans fandom#ari levinson x you#chris evans fanfic#ari levinson drabble#chris evans fic#chris evans fluff
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Stolen Wife - 4
Synopsis – Tommy Shelby is married to Grace, but he becomes obsessed with Y/N, wife of Reuben Fitch, Tommy’s business partner in the U.S. who is unaware of his actual “business”.
This blog supports Palestine.
Zionists are not welcome here.
On one of his many sleepless nights Tommy received a message from his man at the airport. Y/N & Rueben Fitch just left. With that, there were several images of you and Reuben navigating through the airport.
This was a sudden departure. In the middle of the night, Tommy had on good authority that you and Rueben had been planning on staying for one more week. So, whatever must have happened was urgent enough to discard your plans.
Tommy called up his contacts in San Diego, telling them to give him an update by next morning.
Since Tommy had nothing to do but mull over, he decided to stalk you on IG, TikTok, and other countless apps, but it seemed like your profiles were locked and so was Rueben’s social media across the board. The only account that was public was Rueben’s San Diego Club and even among those thousands of posts there was nothing.
Tommy decided to call Rueben with the pretext of inviting him for a discussion some additional details of the partnership.
Tommy dialed Rueben’s number, but he did not pick up. Tommy decided to try again. But this time Rueben picked up the call.
“Hello” Rueben’s annoyance vividly filtering through the phone.
“Hello, Mr. Fitch.”
“Mr. Shelby?”
“Yes, I apologize for calling so late, I have received some good news, this could expand our business in the West Coast. I wanted to ask if you are free to join me at my house at noon tomorrow?”
“Oh…Oh, shit.” Rueben replied.
“I am sorry Mr. Shelby, can we schedule a call. I am currently travelling out of Birmingham; I won’t be able to meet you tomorrow.” He added.
“Is everything okay? You sound stressed.” Tommy probed.
“Everything is fine…Just some family emergency. If it is urgent, I can send Mickey, he is in the area around there somewhere” Rueben countered.
“It is not urgent at all, Mr. Fitch. This can wait until your family matter is resolved.” Tommy mentioned nonchalantly.
“Bear…I need some help…Could you open this bottle for me?” you asked Rueben in your melodious voice in background and Tommy’s hand clenched around the phone.
Rueben smiled and popped open the seal for you to have a sip.
“Is there anything else Mr. Shelby?” Rueben inquired.
“No, nothing major, we can schedule a call, I’ll ask Finn or Isaiah to put something on the calendar for both of us.” Tommy responded.
Tommy was about to cut the call when he heard your voice filling his ears.
“Who was that?”
Tommy waited with bated breath to listen to you talk but Rueben disconnected the call.
From all the pictures of both of you in the airport lounge, Tommy deduced whatever it was, it was related to you.
Rueben was seen assuring you, holding your hands, rubbing your arms while your head was resting against his shoulder. You looked nervous but also excited. That should be him with you, not Rueben. And soon, he will be rectifying that. You would be by his side; he just needed a few days to formulate his plan and get things in motion in America.
#Dark Tommy Shelby x reader#Dark Tommy Shelby x Desi!reader#Dark Tommy Shelby x Black!reader#Dark Tommy Shelby x WOC!reader#Dark Tommy Shelby x Desi reader#Dark Tommy Shelby x Black reader#Dark Tommy Shelby x WOC reader#Dark Tommy Shelby x Y/N#Dark Tommy Shelby x You#Dark!Tommy Shelby x reader#Dark!Tommy Shelby x Desi!reader#Dark!Tommy Shelby x Black!reader#Dark!Tommy Shelby x WOC!reader#Dark!Tommy Shelby x Desi reader#Dark!Tommy Shelby x Black reader#Dark!Tommy Shelby x WOC reader#Dark!Tommy Shelby x Y/N#Dark!Tommy Shelby x You#Tommy Shelby x reader#Tommy Shelby x Desi!reader#Tommy Shelby x Black!reader#Tommy Shelby x WOC!reader#Tommy Shelby x Desi reader#Tommy Shelby x Black reader#Tommy Shelby x WOC reader#Tommy Shelby x Y/N#Tommy Shelby x You#Thomas Shelby x Desi!reader#Thomas Shelby x Black!reader#Thomas Shelby x WOC!reader
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Come Back, Be Here (Part One) | DR3
Five years pass in the blink of an eye and you’ve sacrificed so much to support the man you love. But you can’t keep doing it. When you make the decision to end things you have to carry through to find who you are again.
AN: Part two will be up in the next couple of days. If you’d like to be notified leave a comment and I’ll tag you!
Warnings: heavy angst, breakups, lying.
—
The day you made your decision was really just the straw that broke the camel’s back. It was more hotel rooms, more planes, more lines added to your flight tracking app. You’d travelled around the world more than twice already in the year and it was only August.
You’d end up at yet another race track where you’d had your photo taken more times than you could count. Those professional photos that you were never happy with got posted to instagram accounts run by people who claimed they knew who you were and what you stood for. To yet more flights and more frequent flier miles than you ever thought anyone could have. Planning flights based on airline rather than price to keep earning them, your permanent status just increasing. First class tickets you never could afford to every location, sitting in airline lounges and smiling when people came up to Daniel to wish him luck or ask for a photo.
And every few months you got dressed up for one event or another. A gala, a charity, some sponsor party because everyone wanted to see “Daniel Ricciardo’s other half”. Getting dressed up in a dress you didn’t buy and jewellery that was loaned to you by designers. Standing on a red carpet with your fiancé’s arm around you as he gave that familiar wide grin and you played the fawning date.
You hated every single moment of it, and you didn’t know when you’d started hating it.
It was all for Daniel, and you loved him so you did everything that was asked. You did the busy days and the ridiculous travel. Ignored the hate comments on every single photo you posted on your instagram account - even a photo of the cake you’d baked for a friend’s birthday got comments about how it didn’t look good. You used Twitter Circles and Close Friends judiciously on social media, all of your accounts with that familiar blue tick because you were a “public figure”.
Instead of taking the first choice job you wanted to have you’d declined it because it was in an office five days a week. You’d taken the one you didn’t want as much because it was flexible work and you could do it from anywhere in the world so you got to travel with Dan. You made it to every race on the calendar with him, a fixture in the back of the garage of whatever team he was racing with. You’d wear his merch and have headphones on to listen to the team radio as he raced. Wherever he went, you followed because you were The Ricciardos and of course you were there. The engagement ring that had been on your left hand for eighteen months just proved it.
But you still saw what people said whenever you were in the paddock. How people made snide comments about your job because you were always there, and if you weren’t in McLaren hospitality waiting on Dan you were in Red Bull with Kelly. You were friendly with the other wives and girlfriends of drivers, you’d been there the second longest now. You were the one who was at every race, and when women came for the first time with their now public relationship you were the one who welcomed them to the chaos. And set up the new whatsapp groups whenever they were needed. You blamed Pierre for how many you needed most of the time really.
It was you and Kelly as the focal point of the group. Your partners were best friends, you got along and knew what was going on, it was a natural fit. You could put the smile on and grin and hug, helping everyone keep their head up high. When a crash happened you’d seek out whoever needed comfort and remind them of the safety that was there now. It fit you well.
But you were drowning in it.
August was supposed to be the summer break but Dan was in Woking for yet more McLaren meetings. He’d told you it was normal, part of the organisation for the third year of his contract. You were plugged into the paddock gossip, you knew what was being said, how people talked about your fiancé. The way people talked about how Dan was getting what was coming to him, a new young Australian taking over from the washed out one. The way Blake looked at you sadly, as if he was barely biting his tongue, every time someone mentioned contracts or gossip.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
You were supposed to be in love, be loved. Racing would always be Daniel’s first love but you could fit in there somewhere with him. Be a priority for him. Except you weren’t his priority anymore. The fact that your fifth anniversary came and went without him acknowledging it or even texting you a hello. That was the crystal clear moment that whatever you wanted was not a priority compared to his career, and you deserved better than that. You deserved to be more than an afterthought.
Once the decision was made it was easy to organise moving out. Finding an apartment in Nice was the first thing to do and it was shockingly easy. Monaco was out, the streets too small and filled with memories. Once you were settled in an apartment you could look at a new job or new country, but away from the principality was enough for now. Then it was packing up your life.
Most of your belongings were presents from Daniel. It had become his habit to try pay for everything, the income disparities clear between you. It was with the kindest of intentions but had become a gilded cage that you couldn’t escape. You didn’t know who you yourself were anymore. You didn’t know how to be anyone except F1 WAG. Daniel Ricciardo’s fiancée. The woman with so many gossip column inches it felt wrong. The Daily Mail had a category for your name at this point and that was never who you wanted to be. You’d lost yourself and you needed to find yourself again.
You got the train to Nice and signed your month to month lease for a furnished apartment. It was unusual to have one, but the letting agent recognised your face and accepted it without a moment’s thought. Once it was signed your next stop was to rent a car to bring your belongings to the small apartment.
It was simple and you had a plan. Pack your boxes of your belongings, put them in the car, drive. It took two trips to get most of them over, the final set sitting there until you decided to leave for the final time.
You had to tell Daniel in person. He deserved to have his heart broken in front of you, rather than by phone or text. He was good and loyal and he wasn’t a bad guy, this just didn’t work anymore. He deserved someone who could support him fully. It wasn’t something you could keep doing.
You sat in the living room after getting the text that he’d landed in Nice, knowing that this was the last time. You weren’t going to see him again and that hurt. You were leaving for good and never coming back here. Your engagement ring was in the green leather jewellers box he’d proposed with, sitting on what had been your bedside locker. Taking it off your finger and pushing it into the velvet cushion was when you’d shed your first tear. It was small and neat and exactly what you’d wanted, and you’d loved it from the moment he flipped the box open. Asses online had said it wasn’t enough for a millionaire’s fiancée, that you obviously didn’t mean much to him.
You didn’t want the ring or the money. You wanted Daniel. But you couldn’t have him in a way that would make you both happy.
“I’m home!” His voice echoed around the living room as he arrived in, dropping bags on the floor and you pulled him in for a hug. This was the last one you’d share and doing this when you knew things weren’t good for him professionally hurt but you had to. You couldn’t lose more of yourself.
“Hey. How was the factory?”
“Good. We need to talk about some of my—“
“Dan, I know.” He stopped still at your words. “But we need to talk about something else.”
“I’ve got a couple of offers on the table, and we’ll be—“
“Daniel.” Your voice was soft and he stared at you. His brown eyes opened wide and it felt like he was properly seeing you for the first time in what felt like years. He looked like that Daniel you’d fallen in love with in 2017, a Red Bull star with a wide smile and wild curls. You hadn’t know what you were jumping into when you danced with the man in the nightclub and went home with him. You couldn’t have guessed how your life would change. That the next five years would be the best and worst of your life and he made the highs even higher but the lows so much lower. He made everything better and worse at the same time. He took you in fully and you could tell when his eyes caught the missing jewellery.
“Where’s your ring? Were…were you robbed? What’s going on?” They were halfhearted questions as you shook your head and the reality began to sink into him.
“You know as well as I do that this isn’t working. And I’m so sorry things are ending now. But we…it’s the wrong time for us. I can’t love you the way you need and you can’t support me the way that I need. I’m sorry.”
He looked at you for a solid minute in the silence, it was as if you could see his heart break.
“But we love each other?” That it was a question cut you like a knife.
“I don’t think it’s enough. I’m not enough for you.” It was those words that made his face crumble and you took a step back, looking down at the tiled floor. You couldn’t cry. You were the one hurting him, you didn’t get to cry in front of him.”
“You are. I swear you’re enough. You’re more than enough.”
“Be happy, Daniel Ricciardo. Be happy.”
All you wanted to do was squeeze his hand and take the pain away but you couldn’t. Instead you slipped past him in your worn out sneakers and left through the front door, closing it with a gentle click.
The routine to leave the building was practiced. A few steps to the elevator, down the floors, and out. Except this time you were going to the parking garage in the basement to get the rental car and leave, and for the first time in so long someone else got into the elevator a few floors below what had been yours.
“Hey, I haven’t…is everything ok?” Max looked at your tear streaked face as you blinked back the worst ones, wiping your face roughly with your hand.
“Will you look after him for me? He’s gonna need you now.” It took a few moments for your words to sink in as he stared at you.
“What happened? Did you have a fight? You know he’ll be down in a minute to fix whatever he did, he loves you.”
“I ended things.” The shock on his face was clear as the doors shut to bring you both down. “I ended things about two minutes ago, and he’ll need his friends. I know I’ve no right to ask this, but please. Look after him for me.”
“You can work this out. Come up to ours, stay with us for a night. Think this over.”
“Max I have. I’ve been thinking about this for weeks. He forgot our anniversary and that was the final thing. He deserves someone who can support him the way he needs, and that’s not me right now. He deserves to be happy. I can’t help him be happy. Just please. You and Seb and Estie can help him. I can’t.”
You’d arrived in the garage and Max watched you step out of the elevator with him, heading to the small hatchback that stood out in the area filled with sports cars.
“Where are you going?”
“I got an apartment. I’m going to find out who I am. It’ll be worth it.”
You didn’t expect the Dutchman to wrap you in a hug but he pulled you close, squeezing for a moment before letting go.
“If you need anything. Day or night, no matter where in the world I am, you call ok? You’re like a sister to me, call me whenever you need. And Kelly will be in touch soon to see you, P is gonna miss her aunt.”
“I will.” It was a bare faced lie but it made him look lighter so you told it easily. As far as you were concerned you weren’t going to see them again.
Once you made it into Nice and parked you picked up your phone, pulling up the Find my iPhone app. It took far too few swipes to hide your location from Dan and Kelly, making sure they couldn’t see you. Once you did that you went into the WAG WhatsApp, this one entitled “oh god they’re home for two weeks what’s this chaos”. It took little time to set Kelly as an admin and then leave the chat with a waving emoji and a red heart.
The very last thing to do was to go into an Orange shop and get a new SIM card with a new number. You snapped the old SIM between your fingertips to get rid of it. It was over. You had your new fresh start but it didn’t feel like one.
Part Two
Tags: @vroomvroommbtch
#daniel ricciardo fanfic#daniel ricciardo imagine#daniel ricciardo x reader#daniel ricciardo one shot#daniel ricciardo x y/n#daniel ricciardo x you#f1 fanfic#Daniel Ricciardo angst
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ginyu force break up hcs?
Whshdbwjnshe this is such a funny request thank you anon for my life
Ginyu is crying screaming throwing up. He was so sure you were The One™️, ya know? He had your future wedding planned out perfectly in his head, every last detail all the way down to the table centerpieces. This man is spending his off hours lounging in a bathrobe and eating directly out of the ice cream carton while watching sad movies just so he has the excuse to cry. His heart is broken and he will NEVER love again!!!! (He’s back on a dating app within a week)
Recoome takes it pretty well. The two of you were showing signs of needing different things in the relationship than what the other could provide and you break up on amiable terms. He’s one of those guys that stays good friends with all of his exes. You used to think it was weird when the two of you were dating but now that you’re one of his exes you totally get it. He’s a nice dude. He helped one of your friends move into their apartment and he agreed to be one of your references on your job resume.
Jeice pretends like he doesn’t care and immediately gets someone on the rebound but he also keeps drunk texting you in the middle of the night begging for you to take him back. If you block his phone number he will contact you one by one on every social media platform you have. He never even talked to you this much when you were still in a relationship. It’s the first time someone has broken up with him instead of the other way around and he cannot take the hit to his ego.
Burter is the guy who wants to stay friends but only because he’s always hoping to rekindle a relationship with you. He’s always pulling that “I’m always here for you” bullshit and holding your hands for way longer than is appropriate no matter how many times you tell him you just don’t feel that way about him. Every time you try to tell him you think the two of you should probably not hang out anymore he always denies still having feelings and makes you feel guilty for trying to set boundaries but then he shows up at your work with flowers the next day and you are so embarrassed holy shit.
Guldo tells everyone that he’s the one that broke up with you but nobody believes him. He spends a lot of his time on incel boards saying the most misogynistic shit because he is so clearly butthurt from the break up. If you don’t block him he will stalk your social media pages obsessively, looking at all your posts and pics but never interacting with them so you don’t know. He throws out anything he has that reminds him of you.
#ask#anon#sinning#dbz#dragon ball#ginyu force#captain ginyu#guldo#recoome#burter#jeice#shitposting at the speed of light#reader insert
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ebug's sister, dm91
should i continue with this au during the off season?? summer content / hc's? lmk in my imbox or send me some hc requests!
taglist, @whenmypartysover
part one / part two /part three / part four / part five / part six / part seven / part eight / part nine
blakefriarr_
liked by _quinnhughes, jamie.drysdale and 7,238 others
blakefriarr_: facetime woes cause regular season is almost over and i'm being very brave about it (i told three of them to find a summer sport and get real good at it real fast)
roll call!
trevor just picked up the phone like that. no more questions will be answered at this time.
i called luke and he was like this'll cheer you up and then every sophomore on that hockey team made a series of unfortunate faces. he looks like he bites.
i called quinn and he was very good at advice but he also happens to have this weird sixth sense where he knows when i'm about to take a ft photo and he moves out of frame :( however, petey came in clutch and got me that lovely photo
i knew jack and nico would be together cause why wouldn't they be at this point and jack got me a very nice photo of nico being very smiley. they both proceeded to tell me that they can't just join the mlb so i can watch them play sports. was not a fan.
adam just knows me so well. he saw that i was sad and he was like look at this 👹 and then proceeded to show me his older brother knocked right out fully aware that this would be posted publicly. everyone get you a rookie (u can't take mine)
dawson also cheered me up but this is not the platform for that kind of media
view 659 comments..
jj.friar31: this is not the platform for that kind of media??????? there was media made???????? why do you continue to say these things where i unfortunately have to subject my eyeballs to reading them
→ nicohischier: i agree with jj what does that even mean y/n
→ blakefriarr_: let's just say the playoff beard will take some getting used to
→ nicohischier: oh good god okay
luca.fantilli: i thought we were friends
→ blakefriarr_: we are! this is what comes with that <3 learn to deal
_quinnhughes: not sure how i feel about petey having stole your number from my phone
→ blakefriarr_: really? i’m feeling great about it
→ blakefriarr_: also you’re very uncharacteristically early to my comments what’s going on
→ _quinnhughes: i can’t have just been on the app when you posted?
→ blakefriarr_: obviously not or i wouldn’t have asked
markestapa: i do not bite
→ blakefriarr_: you can’t prove that
→ markestapa: what if i just didn’t bite you
→ blakefriarr_: just so you could bite other people when i’m not around???? i don’t think so
nicohischier: you’re still mad i won’t try and get signed to the mlb!?
→ blakefriarr_: i thought you loved me, neeks.
→ nicohischier: sorry honey i have a family to spend time with and baseball is not really my strongest suit
→blakefriarr_: all i’m hearing is excuses
dawson1417: always a lovely surprise waiting for me when i click read more on your caption
→ blakefriarr_: you brought this upon yourself this is literally how we met
→ dawson1417: i figured it would calm down after i asked you out
→ blakefriarr_: you figured wrong
dawson1417: do you per say trust jj alone in the apartment during the off season
→ blakefriarr_: dawson.
→ dawson1417: i'm just making conversation
→ blakefriarr_: ... dawson
→ dawson1417: blake?
→ jj.friar31: don't pretend like you haven't had your two weeks notice written up since he asked you to come up to canada for a few days
→ blakefriarr_: now is not the time to be snitching james
→ dawson1417: thank you for the encouragement jj i will now bother her endlessly until she agrees
→ jj.friar31: you're doing me a favour man have you met her
→ blakefriarr_: i'm sorry i couldn't hear you over my car, my boyfriend and my id badge to get into the family lounge at the rock
trevorzegras: would you rather me have not picked up
→ blakefriarr_: if you ever send me to voicemail i'm taking jamie hostage
→ trevorzegras: that's what i thought (take his guitar with him)
→ blakefriarr_: (no)
ryangraves27: my picture didn't make it in /th
→ blakefriarr_: /th???!?!?!?!?!??!??!?!? / THREAT?!?!?!?!? WHY ARE YOU THREATENING ME GRAVY
→ ryangraves27: you said i should use tone indicators /nm
→ blakefriarr_: why would you even be mad at me to BEGIN with
→ ryangraves27: idk /a
→ blakefriarr_: awh
_eliaspettersson: i'm stealing you from quinn
→ _quinnhughes: no you are not
→ blakefriarr_: @/_eliaspettersson hide in his suitcase when he comes down to jersey you can have jj's room
→ jj.friar31: no he cannot
→ blakefriarr_: 🍃
→ jj.friar31: he's welcome any time
→ _eliaspettersson: did you just threaten him
→ blakefriarr_: yeah :)
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#ebug’s sister series !#dawson mercer#dawson mercer x reader#nhl imagine#hockey imagine#new jersey devils
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Just an Intern // Part 4.1
pairing: austin x intern lol | word count: 4.7k-ish?
summary: the consequences of austin’s behavior catches up to him amidst battling the paranoia of an impending media shit storm. when a familiar stagehand nuance instigates a conflict, austin helps intern escape.
warnings/notes: usual angst, oral f receiving, jealousy, dom!intern / sub!austin ?? if you squint?, orgasm denial, protective!austin, physical altercation, 18+ mdni
notes: austin's POV was suggested / requested - i prefer/am better at writing in first person so, i really enjoyed doing this. writing from male character's perspective is something i love doing so - i apologize if it's not your forte. y/n is being addressed as Intern bc i want to make her an oc but am afraid of the commitment so lol i hope you give it a chance anyway ♡
PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | see masterlist for all other fics ♡
vibes: just an intern playlist ⛓️
This girl is a gun, before you know it, it’s done
And you’ll be wishing that you crossed your fingers
- Girl is a Gun - Halsey -
-AUSTIN-
I closed Intern’s hotel room door behind me after our argument. I headed towards the front desk, scuffing my feet across the glossy wood floor, my hand gripping the handles of my duffle bag. The hallways of the lodge were always so vacant despite being overly booked. The silence only amplified the cycling thoughts in my head. I didn’t know what the fuck I was thinking – talking to her like that, talking about her like that. I didn’t know what comes over me when I was around her.
But I felt it that first day in the trailer, this insatiable feeling of hatred. Everything about her annoyed the fuck out of me, and yet all my body wants to do is get on my knees and bury my tongue in her pussy. I shook my head of the thought. That’s what I got for being on a social media detox. I thought of hopping on Hinge or whatever app just to find something to fuck. But decided against it – besides, we were stuffed like abominable snowmen in that fucking wooden cage. Another idea of finding one of the extras to hook up with lit up like a glass bulb in my head, but it quickly dimmed. Extras were too easy, and desperation seeped through their pores like dirty nicotine. There was no challenge, no fun. And so, it destined to be a long, lonely night.
Regardless of the confinement and inconvenience, this little unplanned vacation brought a much-needed gift – no service. At least very little and I didn’t bother paying for wi-fi. I needed a break from my managers, and the unforeseen weather anomaly gave me an excuse to ignore them completely. If I ignored the rumors that were festering like an open wound on Twitter or the looming tension of the next big scandal, maybe it would all go away.
I’d always been quite good at that – ignoring and avoiding anything that bothered me.
-
Thankfully the extra room was still available and once inside I swung my leather duffle bag onto a blue fabric-covered wingback chair. I let out a sigh and pressed myself against the wooden dresser that was identical to the one in the room I shared with Intern. I both felt and heard a loud hunger pain rumble in my stomach and that’s when I remembered that the last thing I had eaten was those fries from the night before. I tugged at my bottom lip with my teeth and tapped my fingertips along the dresser assessing my options. The memory of the heaping bowl of fries – drenched in salt and grease – looped in my brain. Layered atop that memory came a sense of guilt, I couldn’t tell if it was about the meal or my actions in the lounge bar. Either way it evoked the same response.
Another loud hunger growl ripped through me and I rolled my eyes at the dramatics of my empty stomach. I pushed myself off the wooden furniture and went to the glass-door mini fridge. I tugged it open and steal a branded water, cracking it open and taking a sip. The cold water immediately soothed the length of my esophagus and pooled satisfaction in my belly.
-4 Days Later-
When the snow melted, it took the peace of my cellular detox with it. Being snowed in on a mountain top was no longer a suitable excuse for neglecting the incessant phone calls and Twitter news updates from my management team. For those couple days in that stupid little lodge, I was able to just fucking breathe for the first time in months.
Not surprisingly, word got to the higher ups about the fight with her, they even heard about the small fight with Landon. I was reprimanded three separate times because of the events. If it weren’t for my integral role in the film’s publicity I would’ve surely been dropped. My career was hanging by a thread as it was, I needed to get my shit together. If anything got leaked it would collapse the shit storm that my team was so precariously balancing for me.
The three of us, Landon, Intern and I were all temporarily separated to different areas on set for the past few days. They finally brought on another makeup artist; a flamboyant man named Nick. Nick took over my makeup in the time we were separated. While he seemed to be relatively the same skill level as Intern, he was placed under her, making her his direct manager. I suppose he was the new “Intern” now, but she’d always be that for me – whatever that meant.
I regretted everything with her. Everything. The good and the bad. I didn’t know why I was so awful to her, only that she infuriated me so much.
And yet, I found myself noticing her absence on my side of the set. I noticed the lack of fluttery annoyance she usually brought and the quippy banter we’d exchange. I even noticed the quiet that filled the days without our incessantly heated back-and-forth. I noticed everything about her being gone. Perhaps noticed wasn’t the right word.
Maybe I missed the noise.
That morning we had new girls on set for some bar scenes and they needed more intricate makeup so, Intern was back in my domain. There was some unsettling feeling that came with her proximity, a confusion perhaps.
There were three new extras for this scene, a girl-next-door brunette, a freckly redhead and a busty blonde. On any other day, the blonde would be wrapped around my finger but today she was about as enticing as a plain bagel. That didn’t mean stop her though.
The petite blonde sporting frayed jean shorts and a plain white v-neck eyed me, while she stood next to the other extras and Intern. Her sauntered over to where I was leaned on my bike only a few feet from them. I squinted the sun out of my eye to look up at her, “Can I help you?” I asked, sounding more bothered than welcoming.
“Sure ya can darlin’” Her pink filled lips curled to a flirtatious smirk with a poorly mimicked southern accent. “You can take me for a ride.”
I offered a small scoff, “Didn’t realize I looked like a ferris wheel.” The remark made her light brows scrunch in a confused way, like when a mall-santa claus is rude. I felt a pair of eyes on me instantly, but when I followed the feeling I was disappointed by the origin. Tom. He shot a warning glare reminding me that I needed to behave to prevent further repercussions. It annoyed me but it was a necessary reminder and I quickly turned on my press charm. I gave her a forced smile, “Sorry, I’ve just had a hard morning.” At least I was honest.
“It’s okay I forgive ya, my name’s Chloe.” The edges of her glossy lips turned upwards and stepped a foot at each side of my crossed ones. “Maybe I could make your day better.” Her suggestive voice quiet but not quite enough. My gaze wandered to Intern who’s face visibly twisted at the overheard remark but focusing on adding eyeshadow to the redhead’s eyes.
“Hey,” Snapped the blonde extra snapping fingers in front of my face bring my attention back to her, “I just gave you a pretty good offer and you can’t even look at me?”
Annoyance bubbled in me that I had swallow down.
Bitch I wouldn’t touch you with a 10-foot pole
-Is what I wanted to say but instead, “Sorry like I said, I had a shit morning.”
“Incredible, “ She sneered and propped her hands on her hips, “You’re exactly the monster the media portrays you to be.”
The last thing I needed was this dumb blonde who had only known me all of 5 seconds to be setting me off at 7 in the fucking morning. My jaw clenched holding back what I wanted to say but I knew my transparent poker face was giving away just how pissed I was getting. “Listen bi-“ I caught myself, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. “Chloe, you don’t know me at all, and I don’t think you should make assumptions of someone you barely know.” Attempting my best at keeping my temper tame.
An infuriatingly taunting cackle slipped her lips, “You know I didn’t believe the accusations, but I bet you really did everything that Madi-”
I shot up so fast I nearly knocked over my bike, “You don’t get to come on my set and talk to me like that, about shit you have no fucking idea about.” The hiss came out more apprehensive than I would’ve liked. I didn’t dare look over at Intern, I just prayed she wasn’t paying attention. I knew what she thought of me, she could think whatever she wanted. But her hearing any of the latest rumors swirling about me, would somehow be worse than anything I could’ve done to her.
She laughed at the fear in my tone, “Your set? You’re lucky you even landed this role with everything-“
“Who the fuck are you? You’re far too cocky for an extra, know your fucking place.” I growled, shoving past her and headed into the saloon set where we’d be filming.
I curled fingers so tightly into my palms as I heard steps following me, a vein pulsed in my forehead ready to burst open. I quickly pivoted back around, “What the fuck do y-” But instead of Chloe I found Intern, “Oh, hi.” My tone much softer, “What do you, um, what do you want?”
“I need to do your makeup.” She stated firmly while keeping her eyes focused on my chest, not looking at me.
“Right.” I nodded and followed her when she turned and walked towards her tented makeup station. I pulled myself onto the wood and fabric chair as she mixed up some foundation onto a metal palette. Then, she took a smooth flat brush and began painting the product down my face.
“So,” I hesitated as an awkward fog suspended in the air, “How’ve you been?”
She clenched her jaw and stayed silent.
“Isn’t it a little ridiculous that they separated us on set over a little rumor-”
“I see you found a new victim.” She sliced flatly, still not looking at me.
“Chloe?” I scoffed and her eyes snapped at me with a I’m-not-stupid glare. I sighed, I knew she wasn’t buying it, “Chloe? Are you kidding me?” I asked, then remembered how we got here in the first place.
She just raised her eyebrows in a ‘that’s not totally unbelievable’ kind of way.
I looked up at the tent as she patted makeup below my eyes with a small round brush. “If you think my taste is so low that I’d touch Chloe – you must not think very highly of yourself.”
She pressed her lips together before speaking again, “I just didn’t think you had standards, that’s all.” Her tone was light & bubbly, but the intention clearly wasn’t.
Anger began to pipe hot steam into my chest for the second time that early morning. I swore she tried to provoke me on purpose. My hands curled around the thick wooden arm rests and my nails dug into the grain. “And to think I almost missed you.” Her now powdered swiping motions halted as soon as she processed my words, her hand just barely trembling and her eyes locked on the area she was working. I couldn’t tell if I was mortified or glad that the words had left my mouth. Either way, it felt freeing, like I had finally told some secret I’d been hiding.
She continued finishing the work on my face in silence and stepped back. She set the black barreled brush down and kept her eyes low as she went to speak. “You’re done. Get out of my chair.”
-
I never thought pretending to seduce a pretty girl on screen would be as difficult as it was in my scene with Chloe. Regardless I felt Intern’s glare on me the entire time. My ego wanted to think it was jealousy but after what I pulled at the ski lodge and just before in the makeup chair, I knew it definitely wasn’t jealousy. Why the fuck would she be jealous after everything I’d done. Regardless, her stare burned like hot coals into my skin.
Directors cut for a 30 and I snatched a water bottle dodging every cast or crew member to find my bike. In the months of filming the vehicle had become some sort of comfort for me. Maybe it was me tapping into my character or the fact that it was the only thing that was constant, the only thing I could control.
I propped myself against the Harley unscrewing the cap of the bottle with a crack and taking a much-needed gulp. Before I could escape, Intern was making a b-line for me and I braced myself for whatever acid she was about to spew at me. But she walked past me, knocking my shoulder back and in a curt, but stern, tone, “I need to put something on your face.” Heading towards a trailer.
I let out a sigh, knowing whatever she was going to say would be even worse than I could imagine. I deserved it of course, but that didn’t make it any easier. I followed her to the trailer, pausing before the metallic door and taking a deep inhale before tugging it open. “We have no fight scenes Intern,” I exhaled clicking the door in place behind me, “What could you possibly need to put on my face?”
She straightened up, crossed her arms and puffed her chest out a bit appearing more intimidating, though there wasn’t much threatening about her. “Me.” She stated seriously, though her attempt at being menacing was almost comical.
“What?” I slightly stuttered not fully processing her words.
She shifted from one foot to the other before regaining her anger-fueled confidence. “I want to be on your face, I want to cash in my apology.” She blurted out quickly.
“I mean- I’m not saying no but just…why?” I questioned; I didn’t expect her to ever cash it in, nonetheless so soon.
“You and Chloe are fucking annoying and I just-“ Her was flustered, a light pink tinging her cheeks. Her fist balled at her side. “I don’t know, I just want my apology.” Her tone laced with false conviction. “I want my apology.”
“Okay…” I stated timidly, eyeing her wearily, “Are you sure?”
“Shut the fuck up and eat me out.” She sniped back, catching me off guard.
“Well I-“ Instinctively going to argue then realizing I had absolutely no problem with her request so, I shrugged, “Okay.” I looked her over, taking her in fully. I was trying to strategize how I was going to fulfil her request. She wore one of her flowy dresses, the ones that drive me insane – this one was powder blue with little white flowers. The dress hugged every part of her I enjoyed the most – it was tight around her waist and ruched around her full chest. The rest flowed down around her hips and thighs. I said a silent thank you to the universe for making it a warmer day. My gaze must’ve lingered on her too long because she took matters into her own hands.
“Jesus Fucking Christ.” She groaned impatiently, taking my face in her hands and practically smashing our lips together.
I let the inherent magnetism between us take over and took her face in my hands connecting our lips. She froze beneath my touch but quickly gave in, reciprocating the passionate kiss. Having her lips on mine again felt like a sip of cold water after a long drought – like an addict getting their first fix after sobriety. Her hands tangled into my perfectly styled hair for whatever scene I was meant to do next. Her tongue asked for entrance and I met hers voraciously. My hands trailed down to her sides and shoved her into the nearest wall. “Fuck.” I breathed out with my forehead pressed against hers. “I’m sorry.”
Her eyes fluttered up at me with flushed cheeks. “Make me believe it.”
My fingertips were on fire every place they met her skin, and I could’ve sworn I had become a vampire from how every part of me was screaming to sink my teeth into her neck. But the sugar high I was getting from her lips won the battle. Pulling away for a fleeting second, “I’m sorry.” I said against her lips.
Almost completely in sync, she wrapped her arms around my neck as I picked her up effortlessly pulling her legs around my hips. I carried her over to one of the empty makeup vanities and sat her on the edge – all while our lips were still locked with our tongues dancing in time. I drew away again, cupping her cheeks in my rugged hands, gazing down at her lust-dazed eyes, “I’m sorry.”
There was a glimmer in her eyes that made me think maybe she believed that one. “Beg for it.” She demanded.
My hands squeezed her thighs all the way up to her hips, pulling her dress up with it. I swiftly grasped her hips and drew her to the very edge of the table. I began peppering kisses down her neck, she tilted her head to the side for more access. “I’m sorry.” I mumbled against the skin below her ear and she let out a small whine.
“Keep going.” She breathed out, her body melting and reacting to my touch.
I pulled her skin into a suck, just soft enough to not leave a mark, “I’m sorry.”
“More.”
“I’m sorry.” Working my way down till I reached her collar bones. My hands trailed up her sides, lingering on the curves I liked most before they molded around her breasts. She let out another small moan as my thumbs traced over her peaked nipples through the sheer dress.
Her breath hitched as my lips savored every inch of her skin down her chest, “More.”
I kneeled in front of her, her legs easily parted for me and already had a damp spot on her baby pink panties. I trailed soft, but hungry, kisses up her thigh, accompanying each one with an apology. I hooked my index fingers at the waist band and slowly pulled down her panties down her legs, tossing them only a few feet from us.
“I’m sorry.” I mumbled against her lips and I could feel her writhing beneath my mouth. I drew my tongue slowly up her folds, tasting the juices I thought I’d never taste again. I let out a grown from her flavor and it gained a hand tangled in my hair, rougher than normal.
I swirled my tongue over her clit and she let out a surprised moan. “Fuck, Austin.” She struggled to get out. Her response only fueled my work on her. My tongue swirled around her swollen nub and my hand traveled up her thigh. I teased her at her entrance with my middle and ring finger before slowly sliding them in. She let out a slow whine as they slid inside her and began pumping into her sweet spot. In a rhythmic manner, my fingers and tongue danced where she needed me.
“You taste so fucking good.” I hummed against her heat as her juices filled my mouth and ran down my fingers. She tasted sweet, sweet like honey and I ate her like I had an insatiable sweet tooth.
My work on her distracted me from how hard I was, painfully restrained in my jeans. My free hand went to unzip them to fuck myself while I devoured her, but she tugged at my hair. “No.” She growled. “This an apology is to me, and you don’t deserve to feel good.”
This was new for me. I’d never had a woman talk like to me during sex before. But there was something so fucking sexy about it and it only made my cock throb more for her.
It seemed her little shift into dominance turned her on just as much as it did me, her moans increasing in volume and her hand gripping my hair-spray drenched hair. I knew she was close with the way her walls clenched around my fingers and her legs trembled around my head. I gazed up at her as she began coming undone – I always thought women were their most beautiful in the throughs of their orgasm, but this was different. The way she glowed in her climax made me want to keep making her look like that. She was angelic and her moans were harmonies – the sort of songs you just want to replay over and over, practically getting high off of them.
Sometimes I would get this twist in my stomach when I’m in business meetings where I know the executives are swindling me, or when I’m in interviews and I can tell they’re going to butcher my words for a scandal. In college I’d get it when I was at parties that would get raided or in high school when intimidating seniors would corner me. That looming churn bloomed in my stomach whenever I was in danger – and I could feel it when I looked at her just then.
Once she was finally spent, I hesitantly pulled myself up from the floor and wiped the excess juices from my mouth. I watched her, disheveled with her chest heaving, still coming down from the high. “So, am I forgiven?”
Her hooded eyes weakly reached mine. I expected there to be more light in them than before, I expected them to be softer and less angry. She pulled herself off the table and smoothed out her dress before looking me dead in the eyes, “No. Not even close.” She took a step closer to me. “But it’s definitely a start.” She spoke with a tone that felt like I was just the gum under her shoe.
She glared at me as if she was disgusted with how I made her feel and tugging the hefty trailer door open and disappearing behind it. It was only then that I realized how utterly foolish it was to think that eating her cunt would erase all the damage I’d done.
I recognized that warning sign in my stomach when I looked at her.
She was a warning I needed to head.
-3 Days Later-
We were stationed along a long dirt road getting various riding and chase scenes. Bikes lined the side of the sandy road having to cut scenes constantly due to the still wet mud from last night’s unprecedented rain gunking up our tires and covering the ever-important sponsored logos on the bikes. The excessive wind whipping sand against us was also causing interruptions as Intern had to keep cleaning us up and reapplying. Between the shitty weather, the constant interruptions, and our fucking directors still hounding my ass harder since the ski lodge debacles, the day was not going well, and my patience was wearing thin.
I stood just beside my bike, trying to just breathe through the aggravation from the last cut as Intern used a brush to flick off the sand that had built up on my face. She used her pinky to dust off some extra then returned to the brush. Even though the brush was probably the softest thing I’d ever felt, it still mimicked steel wool compared to her touch. Out of everything that happened between us, and out of every memory that would make itself known to me, her touch was the one that lingered the longest. Sure, I thought about that night in the hotel where my cock was buried inside her as she rode me, or when I chained her to the trailer door… I thought about them a lot. But the ones that flickered constantly in my brain like flashing clicks of paparazzi cameras, was us in the hot tub or on the floor of that disgusting restaurant we broke into. My body seemed to remember her warmth on me when she was clinging onto me in the tub or when she held my face as I kissed her on the floor.
I’d never had memories or fantasies rile me up just as much as sexual ones. But my hands burned at the thought of touching her again, they ached just to be on her. I felt it when she was near me, when she touched me. It was magnetic. My cock craved her, of course, but my hands did too – it was something so foreign to me. And I fucking hated it.
It couldn’t happen again. I couldn’t let this happen again. Especially not after the warning siren that blared in the pit of my stomach every time she looked at me. One bitch was already on track to nearly ruin my career, I didn’t need another one. And from our track record, Intern wasn’t looking like the safest option anyway – already causing me fuck up in front of our cast and crew.
She was a warning I needed to head
I just needed to make it through the holidays and the rest of shooting, and I’d be done. I could forget all about her.
I kept my eyes on the floating clouds above us, just letting my thoughts flow in my head when I heard my bike engine rev and felt a splash of thick mud coat the side of my body. The sharp squeal from Intern told me she’d been hit too. “What the fuck!” Looking over at a stagehand, Ryan, the same one from the truth or dare debacle, being the only evidence of a culprit with hands on the vehicle.
He let out a cocky laugh, “Sorry man, was just tryin’ to clean up the bike.”
“You ruined my brushes!” Exclaimed Intern as she looked over the leather brush roll that thankfully covered all the products inside the cosmetic case. While the products inside were safe, her entire arsenal of tools were covered in mud.
This was the tipping point of the day, everything that had pissed me off culminated into the rage that coursed through me. The fact that it was Ryan and that I was now coated in mud, but most of all it was the mud on Intern’s brushes. I made it into Ryan’s face faster than I thought and grabbed him by his shirt. The threats from the directors and management were now faint memories as I held his shirt wrapped around my wrist. “What the fuck were you thinking.” I growled in his face.
“Austin! Let him go!” Shouted one of the crew members but I was too blinded with anger to decipher who.
“Who fucking told you you could touch my bike?” My fist tightening around the dark material.
Yet Ryan looked unbothered, “Sorry man, was just tryna clean it up.” He repeated though his voice was laced in competitive snide.
“Austin!” An even more aggressive shout, “Take a thirty!”
“I can’t work on anything more!” Perked up Intern shouting across set, her forced innocent voice didn’t fool me, she was livid. “My brushes are fu- ruined!”
“Fine. All three of you, call it a day. Go home.” Followed by a ‘Jesus fucking Christ’ muttered beneath the director’s tone.
I released Ryan’s shirt and shoved him back, “Fine, I’m fucking out of here.” Rounding the bike, throwing my leg over it and kicking off the stand.
Before I even moved, I glanced over at Intern looking absolutely defeated and furious, picking through her now destroyed tools.
“You comin’?” I asked over the engine rumbling, and she snapped her head up. Her frustrated watery eyes swirled with conflict; I knew she didn’t want to come with me, but I could get her out of there. She looked around weighing her options and ultimately her anger won. Her gaze landed on Nick, who gave her a little nod saying ‘I got this, go ahead’.
She quickly paced over to me, “Get me the fuck out of here.” She snapped in a whisper, and swung her leg over behind me, wrapping both arms around my torso.
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thank you all SO much for all the love and support on this story, it has truly been overwhelming. i know my numbers aren't as big as others but they're big to me - appreciate EVERY comment, message, ask, etc. even if i’m not the best at replying 😭 i love you guys so much - i never expected this fic to get that much attention so again, thank you xx
if you enjoyed this story/my writing pls consider giving my main fic, Forever Winter, a read - if you like angsty sad smutty you’ll probably like it lol
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#sorry this took forever 😬 4.2 is much better i promise 😭#i highkey don’t like the moodboard lol#i also highkey don’t like the way i ended this but it’s bc it’s cut in half#so idk sorry lol#just an intern series#austin butler#austin butler fic#austin butler fanfic#austin butler fan fiction#austinbutler#austin butler fanfiction#austin butler x oc#austin butler x fem!oc#austin butler x y/n#austin butler x you#austin butler x reader#austin butler smut#austin butler fluff#austin butler angst#enemies to lovers#just an intern#just an intern fic
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and so we meet again (chp. 1)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Relationship: Mizu/Original Female Character
Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Childhood Friends, Bisexual Mizu, Second Chances, Abijah Fowler is Mizu's Father, Fluff and Angst, Past Mizu/Mikio
Word Count: 1,921
-> [AO3 LINK] <-
If there was a journalist tasked with studying the daily life of Mizu Nanase, they would quickly lose interest and beg their boss for a different job.
At least, that’s what Mizu believes would happen.
If you were to ask the blue-eyed Tokyo resident, she would tell you that her life was as far from interesting as it can get; she had few friends, rarely went out at night, and kept a strict workout regimen. While other 24-year-old women in the city would be out clubbing and meeting men, Mizu was in bed by nine o’clock and woke just before dawn every day to go for her daily run before work. She was an average salary-woman with an average office job, working her average nine-to-five shift before heading straight home to the two-bedroom apartment she shared with her roommate, a sweet college student named Kinuyo. To any outside perspective, this life seemed lonely, and it was, but Mizu wouldn’t admit it. She had spent many years convincing herself that she could find comfort and contentment in solitude, to keep a minimal life and focus on maintaining what she had in the current time instead of trying to cultivate relationships that would ultimately fall apart.
This mindset was more than understandable for someone who had the track record of relationships that she did.
It was an average Friday night for the blue-eyed woman when it happened. She had been thoughtlessly switching through television channels, dressed in lounge pants with a convenience store beer in her other hand, when she felt the vibration of her phone from where it sat on the couch cushion beside her. Mizu paused her channel-surfing on some Western history documentary before glancing down at the lit-up screen. It was a notification from Instagram, a social media app Mizu really didn’t use but kept at the insistence of her friend Akemi. The pop-up itself wasn’t to indicate a new message or a new post from one of the few accounts she followed, but one of those “you might know this person” messages. Mizu had been getting those more often than direct messages, which spoke volumes to how reclusive she was to the friends she did have rather than the friends she could have. Deciding to humor the app’s algorithm, Mizu picked up her phone and tapped on the notification, allowing the app to open itself. She was expecting this potential acquaintance to be one of Akemi’s exes or even one of the handful of childhood peers who tormented her in middle school, now acting like self-made entrepreneurs or social media models.
But the person Instagram actually did recommend was a shock that was almost enough to make her drop her beer.
The account being displayed on Mizu’s phone screen was that of a blonde Asian woman. Her profile picture was that of what Mizu clocked as the Golden Gate Bridge in California, a key sign that all but confirmed her assumption on the woman. It wasn’t until she scanned the first three photos on the account that her conviction became even stronger.
Blonde hair.
Upturned brown eyes.
A beauty mark just under the left corner of her bottom lip.
Oh, and the name on the account?
Kane Akiyama.
Mizu practically shot herself out of her seat, haphazardly placing her beer on the coffee table, before beginning to pace the room, now scrolling through the rest of the photos on Kane’s account. For an account with less than 500 followers, Kane did seem to post frequently; selfies, candid shots of wherever she was, food pics, group snapshots of her family, even a video here and there of her playing the guitar. With every post Mizu went through, the more and more the feeling of her heart pounding in her throat made her want to vomit or cry or both.
It was her.
It was her Kane.
The last time Mizu Fowler and Kane Akiyama saw each other was a hot August evening. The two girls, barely thirteen at the time, had spent the entire day together, doing anything and everything under the blazing sun. But at that moment, the sun was descending, an indication that their day of fun was coming to a close. But of course, that day was the best and worst day of that summer, as Mizu recollected how Kane cried the entire walk back to their neighborhood. A month prior to that day, Kane had broken the news to Mizu that her family would be moving overseas to America due to her mother getting a job transfer, a piece of news that seemed to break Mizu’s heart in an instant. So that prominent day was the last day the two friends would ever see each other again. After that day, Mizu spent the rest of the summer locked away in her room, refusing to go out or see any of her other friends. She went on to attend high school, something that became so much harder without her best friend to be there at her side. She was ridiculed for her mixed race heritage, shoved into walls and being subjected to desk graffiti and thermoses being emptied on her. It was a miracle she made it to graduation. Maybe she was holding onto the hope that she would one day be reunited with Kane?
Well, it sure seemed like it now.
A feeling of hesitance came over Mizu as her thumb hovered over the ‘follow’ button. Should she do it? It would be good to reconnect with someone she once held so dear and close to her heart. Kane was her closest friend for a long time before she moved away. What if America changed her? Well, it had been eleven years since they last saw each other, it would make sense that Kane wasn’t the same from middle school. But how much has America changed her? Did it change her for the worse? Was she a bad person and nothing like the girl Mizu once knew? Did she even want to reconnect? But if she did, how would Mizu know until she reached out?
Suddenly, her phone began to vibrate as an incoming call was displayed on the screen. The familiar face of Akemi took the place of Kane’s Instagram account. Akemi Tokunobu was a girl from a wealthy family back in Mizu’s hometown of Kyoto. The two women met three years prior, through Taigen, an old classmate of Mizu’s who had been pursuing Akemi behind her family’s back. Miu first found Akemi spoiled and arrogant, but over time the two of them became rather close. Akemi was the only other female friend (besides Kinuyo) Mizu has made since Kane left that fateful summer and it wasn’t long into the friendship that the two of them formed a bond closer to sisters than just friends. If there was one person Mizu tried to keep in constant contact with, it was Akemi.
It didn’t take long for Mizu to accept the call and raise the phone to her ear. “Akemi?”
“Hey, Mizu!” The cheery sound of Akemi’s voice came over the speaker. “Look, I know you said you aren’t really a club girl, but there is this one cocktail bar that opened in Kabukicho and I think you’d really like it. I took Taigen last weekend and-”
“I found her.” Mizu blurted out, cutting Akemi off completely.
There was a pause before Akemi spoke again. “I’m sorry, what?”
“I found her.” Mizu repeated. “Kane. My old friend from school.”
“The blonde girl you were in love with?”
Mizu’s face turned an instant red at the question. “She was my friend, Akemi.”
“Yes, your friend that you pinned for pathetically.”
“Akemi.”
“Sorry, sorry. So you found her. Is she in town or…?”
“No, I found her Instagram account. The app suggested it to me, believe it or not.”
“Huh.”
“What do you mean, ‘huh’?”
“Well, maybe Instagram realized that you have literally no social life and decided to reconnect you with the last person you were happiest with?”
Now Mizu’s face had to be the color of a cherry. “Are you bullying me?”
“Oh, absolutely. We haven’t talked for a hot minute so I have to make up for lost time.”
“Real funny, Akemi.”
“I try my best.”
Mizu let out a groan of frustration. “Anyways, I found her account. Should I follow her?”
“Do you not want to follow her?”
“I mean… I would like to reconnect with her.”
“Okay, so follow her and send her a message.”
“Wouldn’t that be too much?”
“....you just said you wanted to reconnect with her.”
“Yes, I do.”
“How else would you be able to reconnect with her, Mizu?”
Mizu paused, thinking for a few moments. “I… I think I still have her mother’s email address.”
“You have her mom’s email? My god, are you twenty-four or fifty-four? Who sends emails anymore?”
“Okay, okay!” Mizu exclaimed. “I won’t send her mom an email. I should send her a message?”
“Yes, and make sure you tell her who you are and that you want to reconnect. Nothing too lengthy, just short and to the point.”
“Alright.”
“And I know you don’t use Instagram, so if she wants to reconnect, make sure to give her a social media account you do use. Or at least your username on WhatsApp.”
“Yeah, alright. Okay, I can do that.”
“Okay, cool. So, I take it you don’t want to go out tonight?”
“Not really, no.”
“Well, while I’m still in town, do you want to at least get something to eat near your place?”
“Yeah… Yeah, that would be fine.”
“Wonderful. I’ll be at your building in ten minutes. Please don’t come down in your pajamas this time, okay?”
Mizu huffed. “It’s just dinner between friends, Kemi.”
“Yes, but it’s dinner with me. You need to be presentable in case anyone sees me and snaps a picture. Don’t need to have any dating speculations between us.”
“Right, you already have enough of those with Taigen.”
“Very funny, Mizu. I’ll see you in a bit.”
“Yeah, sounds good. Bye.”
As soon as the call ended, the sight of Kane’s Instagram account returned on screen. Once again, Mizu found herself hesitating. Akemi was right, though. How else was she supposed to reconnect with someone if she didn’t reach out to them? And if Kane didn’t want to reconnect, she would ignore the message or simply say so. There was no harm in this.
And so, after taking a deep breath to center her nerves, Mizu tapped the ‘follow’ button.
She then tapped the ‘message’ button and, after a few minutes of typing and deleting and typing again, she came up with a good enough sounding message;
Hello Kane. You may not remember me, but I am Mizu Fowler. We went to middle school together and were best friends for a while before you moved to America. I came across your account thanks to Instagram’s suggestion and I thought it would be great if we reconnected. If you do not wish to, I completely understand. I hope that you are healthy and happy, wherever you are.
After rereading it a couple of times, Mizu finally tapped the arrow button, sending the message. She then immediately locked her phone and placed it on the kitchen counter so she could start getting ready for her dinner plans with Akemi. It was another seven minutes before the phone vibrated, this time with a message displayed on the screen:
Holy shit.
#ao3 crosspost#fanfic#fanfiction#oc fanfiction#oc insert#bes oc#blue eye samurai oc#oc x canon#mizu x oc#blue eye samurai#mizu blue eye samurai#mizu#bes mizu x oc#macthedrag0n#ao3 fanfic#ao3
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The Meet Cute
Roman thumbs through his phone, flicking from emails to social media to some dumb-ass game. He stifles a yawn, his gaze drifting across the airport lounge.
It's late, a handful of flights left to depart and the airport is slowly shutting down around him. His eyes fall back to his phone, his thumb hovering for a second before he taps the app icon.
There's a new message from the woman he'd matched with a few days ago. He ignores it, the chat so far has been dry. He needs to let her down gently, he can't risk just ghosting her, but he hasn't got the right words to tell her right now.
Instead, he starts to flick through the various profiles. He barely pauses on each one before swiping left. Again. Again. Again. He's not sure why he's doing this. He's out of here in less than 30 minutes. What's the point?
His thumb halts as he spots the distance on the next profile. 1 mile. He wonders if - he checks the name - Katherine is as bored as he is. He glances around but all he can see are guys in business casual.
He flicks through her photos - she's got the classics nailed, the hiking photo, a snap with a dog, a group of friends, in a bar holding a cocktail. But the last one, makes him stop. It's a black-and-white professional photo. She's leaning against a wall staring down the lens. Her long hair cascades over one shoulder, her arms crossed in front of her. Hooked on one finger is the arm of a pair of thick-rimmed glasses, dangling delicately.
Roman thumbs her profile - 28, writer.
You'll usually find me lounging in my favorite sweatpants, typing away on my laptop, and sipping on a cup of coffee that's probably gone cold by now. I'm all about keeping things low-key and having a good laugh along the way.
"Flight 968 to Tampa is now boarding at gate 4A."
He shuts the app without swiping either way.
The flight looks pretty empty judging by the minimal activity at the gate. As he hands over his boarding pass, the staff member does a double-take.
"My son's a huge fan," she tells him. "Would you mind...?"
Roman obliges, signing the blank boarding pass she hands him.
She taps on the computer. "Let me upgrade you, business is looking empty and I reckon you'd appreciate the extra leg-room."
"That's very kind of you," he tells her, chuckling as she blushes. "Thank you."
With his new boarding pass in hand, he makes his way down the gangway and onto the plane. Out of the 20 seats in business, only 9 are occupied. He checks his seat number - 4A.
As he steps forward he realises that 4B is occupied, a nest of dark hair just peeking above the seat but as he nears more of the occupant's face appears and he frowns as it seems strangely familiar.
"Sorry," he says he lifts his carry-on into the overhead locker. "I'm in the window-seat."
"No worries." She gathers her stuff - a laptop, notebook, pen - and stands to move into the aisle so he can get past. He catches her eye as he does. He knows her, but from where?
As they both settle back down, he gives her a sideways glance and then looks away so she can't see the look of realisation that suddenly dawns on him.
Shit.
Katherine tugs down the glasses from her hair as she opens her laptop back up. She can feel the stranger next to her looking but when she glances in his direction, he's staring out of the window, his baseball cap pulled down.
She inhales deeply, her mind switching back to her laptop but only briefly. Damn, this guy smells divine. The luxury of whatever he's wearing drifts over her. She's never been this lucky before, usually she's stuck next to an overbearing, sweaty businessman in a suit one size too small. This guy is in black sweats, the only sign of anything business like is his watch that gleams under the harsh cabin lighting.
"Champagne?" A member of cabin crew hovers over her, offering a glass. Katherine accepts.
"And for you, sir?"
Her seat-mate doesn't respond.
"Sir?"
"Hey," Katherine taps his arm softly.
"Huh?" Roman looks up. "Sorry, no. Actually, yeah why not."
He accepts the glass and takes a long drink.
She's pushed the glasses back up on top of her head, he notices. The loose sleeve of her sweatshirt slips back as she raises the champagne flute, revealing a delicate tattoo around her wrist.
She catches his eyes as she drinks and raises her other hand to her face. "Have I got something..."
"No, sorry, ignore me."
"Hard to when you keep staring at me."
"Shit," he exhales. "This is awkward."
"Less awkward than it already is," she replies and he wonders if that was a grimace or a smirk that dashes across her lips.
"I saw your profile. On Tinder."
There's a pause.
"You scroll Tinder in airports?" she raises an eyebrow.
"Clearly you do too, given it said you were less than a mile away."
She has the good grace to blush. "Touche..."
"Roman," he extends his hand.
"Katherine," she replies, letting his fingers curl over hers.
"I know," he chuckles and she rolls her eyes with a grin.
"So did you swipe right or left?"
Roman squirms slightly. "Neither. They called the gate."
"Good save."
"What do you write?"
Katherine's eyes narrow slightly. "You read my profile?"
"The first bit. Like I said, they called the gate."
"How far did you read?"
Roman frowns for a second. "Something about sweatpants, laptop and cold coffee."
"I write books. Novels."
"Anything I would know?"
Katherine laughs. "You don't strike me as someone who reads romance novels."
"Hey, don't judge a book by its cover," he winks. "But no, you're right. I don't."
"What do you read?"
Roman shrugs. "Not much. I don't get the time."
"What do you do?"
"Take a guess. I reckon that romance-novelist brain of yours can concoct a good backstory for me."
A slow smile spreads across Katherine's face. "You know what this is called? In my world that is?"
"Tell me."
"A meet cute."
----
A/N: Taking it back to the start. I'm writing these on the fly. It's almost 1am and I have to be up in 5 hours and I cannot get these two out of my head. If anyone has any requests (first date thoughts, spicy book scenes you want recreating between Katherine and Roman) send them my way. Photos of Roman making suggestive glances are also welcome.
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𝒎𝒚 𝒅𝒆𝒘𝒅𝒓𝒐𝒑 (ma goutte de rosée)
valentine's day masterlist
summary - willy wonka is known to create sweets and chocolate, using his talent, he makes you something special.
the gif and headers I use aren't mine.
Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.
Willy had the most brilliant idea for Valentine’s Day. He spent months preparing a perfect gift for you. The Oompa Loompas helped him build, make and decorate a room dedicated to you, filled with your favourite treats and things. Right now, Willy was reviewing everything and ensuring everything was perfect. He giggled to himself as he checked over the lollipop tree that had different shapes and varieties of lollipops.
He stood and walked out of the room and toward the lounge where you sit and read. “Dewdrop! I have a surprise for you. Can you please follow me?!” He awkwardly smiles, rocking back and forth on his heels as he holds his hand out for you to take. You look up and smile at him, softly placing your hand in his glove-covered one and slowly standing. Willy felt giddy as he led you out of the room toward the closed pink door. “Close your eyes!” Your eyes close, smiling as you hear your partner giggle in glee. Willy opened the door and gently led you into the large room, feeling nerves enter him as he waited for your reaction. “Okay, Dewdrop! Open your eyes!”
You open your eyes and look around the room in awe, taking in the giant pink and red trees with different kinds of lollipops on their leaves, the light pink grass and the big gummy bears littered around the room, your very own chocolate water fountain. You wondered how Willy made it have a mix of white and milk chocolate without the two colliding. You couldn’t believe your eyes, taking in how beautiful everything looked and finally understanding why he had been cooped up for so long. “Willy…. This, this is amazing.” You look up at him with tears in your eyes, and your mouth drops open in amazement. “You did all this for me?”
He nods, nervously smiling as he clasps his hands together. A squeak escapes him as you launch yourself at him and wrap your arms and legs around his body, holding onto him tight as you press kisses all over his face. “Thank you, baby. Thank you so much.” Your hands cup his cheeks as you look into his eyes before leaning forward and bringing him into a deep passionate kiss. Your eyes catch onto something behind him, and you slowly look over and smile. “Willy Wonka, you are one special person.” You unwrap your legs and jump down, pressing a kiss into his cheek and walk over to the lifesize version of him. Holding a purple box, you slowly open the lid and look inside, smiling as you pull out a pretty pearl necklace, turning to look at Willy, noticing that he’s moved closer.
Willy stands there with a small smile, carefully taking the necklace from you and gesturing for you to turn around. You turn around and lift your hair as he puts it onto you. “I know it’s not much… But I thought of you when I saw it.” You turn back around and give him a soft glare, “Oh, do you not like it? I can take it back….”
“Willy, you did great. The necklace is beautiful, and the room is wonderful.” You place your hand on his cheek as you look up at him. “You’re so perfect, and I love you so much.” Willy looks down at you softly, pressing his forehead into yours.
“I love you so much, my little dewdrop.”
thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
#imyourbratzdollwork#imyourbratzdollvalentinesday#willy wonka fanfiction#willy wonka imagines#willy wonka x reader#willy wonka#willy wonka and the chocolate factory#willy wonka fluff#willy wonka angst#willy wonka fic#willy wonka fanfic#willy wonka fan fiction#willy wonka fan fic#willy wonka fandom#willy wonka imagine#willy wonka oneshot#willy wonka one shot#willy wonka x female reader#willy wonka x fem!reader#willy wonka x lover reader#johnny depp#johnny depp characters#johnny depp fanfiction#johnny depp fanfic
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