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allur1ngs · 5 months

Text

✮ succumb (to me) ✮

TW: small angst to fluff, smut (dom & top!bada, sub & bottom !reader, kinda rough & angry sex, strap usage–r!receiving, oral–r!receiving, reader sucks on bada’s strap bcs i say so, teasing, strap referred to as a cock, bada is the giver in this scenario, doesn’t rlly receive, sorry…) + aftercare, delulu bada, once again LOTS of protective!bada, cold!bada, frustrated!bada, jealous!bada, petty!bada, bada having SERIOUS beef w your bodyguard, lusher being an instigator, reader being oblivious once again but its okay because we love her, jealous!reader, hyo being stuck in the middle of it all… justice for her fr, ngl the descriptions in this one are more spicy so… beware ? allusions to homophobia if you squint, the picture to the farthest right is purely for aesthetics and not meant to represent reader’s skin tone or body type!! and a surprise character that you may know~

SUMMARY: jealousy is man’s most evil, and easiest sin to yield to. bada struggles to keep herself from falling into its clutches, and succumbing to her greatest temptation, you.

WC: 14.5k… i promised myself this one would be shorter but i’m weak

A/N: find more information about this au on my masterlist! once again, i’m sure there are MANY mistakes throughout this fic, so please ignore them as best as you can--i'll edit this asap. also this isn't the first kiss or first i love you, consider this fic as a "what if" like slightly canon divergent. i want to make a separate fic about the official first kiss and first i love you!!

DISCLAIMER: all characteristics portrayed are purely speculation and fiction, they are not meant to reflect bada, team bebe, or anyone else’s actual character, values, or attitudes. please keep this in mind!!

Orange sunlight pours through the black-tinted windows in Bada’s office, casting a warm glow onto words that blur into blots of ink against white paper. Bada's tired eyes squint, attempting to make out the last sentence of the form in front of her. But no matter how hard she glares and huffs, the blots don’t unify into words.

“Ugh,” she groans, pushing away the form out of frustration. “I need a break.”

“You think so?” Lusher pops up behind the office door, having quietly opened it while Bada was focused on her paperwork.

“Yes, Lusher, I need a break,” Bada pinches the bridge of her nose, sighing out of her nose. “But I have a feeling I won’t be able to, now that you’re here.”

“Those are some harsh words for someone who brought you a gift,” Lusher says cheekily. She approaches Bada, opening her once-closed fist to reveal a pair of black-framed glasses. “Tada!”

Bada lets out a breath, muttering a thank you before grabbing her glasses and putting them on. Immediately, she feels the world come into focus, and the words on the form she pushed away are now crisp and uniform. “Much better.”

“What would you do without me?” Lusher jokes.

“I’d probably be much more productive.” Bada takes ahold of her gold-trimmed fountain pen and sets another stack of papers in front of her.

“What happened to taking a break?” Lusher pouts. “You’re going to go blind if you continue to push your eyes this much.”

“Well, thanks to you, I have my glasses, so I won’t go blind,” Bada says without looking up from the paper she’s signing.

“That’s not how it works,” Lusher huffs.

Bada stops writing, placing her fountain pen down and lifting her gaze up to stare at Lusher dead in the eyes. “What do you want?”

“I want to talk to you.” Lusher plops down on the couch in the corner of the room. “We never get to talk like friends anymore.”

“I’m busy,” Bada says gruffly.

“You’re always busy,” Lusher complains. Bada doesn’t respond, instead, she picks up her pen again and starts reading the paper in front of her. “Fine,” Lusher folds her arms across her chest, “I’ll just talk aloud.”

Again, Bada ignores her subordinate, shuffling to the next paper and beginning to scan the words.

Lusher takes no offense, already used to her friend’s cold and serious behavior; in fact, it’s something she admires in her. And, she also knows that despite how her boss outwardly acts, Bada does care about her and listens to what she has to say.

“Minah and I took care of that job yesterday.” She comments, her eyes moving to the tinted window in Bada’s office. “It was very easy. U-Ram is getting sloppy.” Lusher waits to see if Bada will respond, but she doesn’t, so the second-in-command continues. “His branch of Seoul should be easy to take over. And if he doesn’t want to give it up, Tatter, Minah, and I can visit him.”

Silence fills the room, making Lusher pout again. She wants to get at least some sort of reaction out of Bada, but she remains steadfast in focusing on her work. Lusher thinks to herself, for a moment, wondering what else she could bring up to her boss that might spark up some form of conversation.

Suddenly, a lightbulb goes off in her mind, making her eyes light up and her lips curve upward in a mischievous smile. There’s one thing she can use. One thing–or more like one person–that always breaks through Bada’s icy attitude.

“So, how have things between you and unnie been going?” Lusher asks innocently.

Bada’s writing pauses, “We’re doing fine.” She mumbles before continuing to scribble furiously.

Bingo, Lusher thinks, trying to hide how her smile grows. “That’s good, I’m glad. I was worried after the incident with Seong, your relationship would be on the rocks. But it seems like it brought you two closer together.”

Bada keeps her eyes fixed on the document below her, “Yes. Our friendship has become much stronger.”

“Friendship.” Lusher snorts.

“What’s so funny?” Bada cuts in, tone hard.

“You and unnie aren’t friends.”

“We are.” Bada insists. “I enjoy her company, and she enjoys my company. We’re friends.”

“Bada, you and unnie have done everything in a traditional relationship other than have sex.” Lusher deadpans.

Bada’s hand fumbles with her fountain pen out of shock, her eyes snapping up to meet Lusher’s figure casually lounging on the couch. “Lee Seoyoung,” She says firmly. “remember your place, and don’t speak about my fiancée in such a way.”

“I don’t mean it in an offensive way.” Lusher shrugs, not affected by Bada using her full name. “I’m just pointing out that you two aren’t friends. Or if you are, you’re incredibly touchy friends.”

Bada scoffs, removing her gaze from Lusher. “We’re just friends. End of story.”

“If you say so,” Lusher concedes, resting her head against the headrest of the couch. “But now that I think about it, I wonder how unnie keeps herself satisfied.”

Bada looks up once again, her expression showing clear confusion. “What are you talking about?”

Lusher smirks to herself, sitting up. “Well, unnie’s been with you for about two and a half months now, right? Don’t you think she’d begin to feel…” she trails off, trying to find a less brash way of expressing her thoughts. “lonely for companionship? For some… skinship?”

Bada’s eyes widen only a fraction, the wheels in her mind slowly turning. “I greet her in the morning with hugs and a peck on the cheek.”

“Boss, you have to realize that not all of us are as composed and able to be abstinent for long periods of time like you are.”

“What are you implying?” Bada says incredulously. “That she’s–” she cuts herself off, becoming physically sick at the thought of someone else touching you, caressing you, giving you pleasure, and seeing you in ways she hasn’t.

“I’m not implying anything.” Lusher holds her hands up in defense.

Bada glares at Lusher, countless thoughts running through her mind as her heart races in her chest. “And if she were to be… engaging in such activities, who do you think she’d find company in?”

Lusher looks up, thinking deeply and seriously about Bada’s question. “I would have to say… Hyo. They’ve become quite close.” She answers honestly. “But don’t take this too seriously, Boss. Unnie isn’t that type of woman.”

But it’s much too late. Internally, Bada’s already beginning to spiral, remembering every interaction between you and Hyo she’s witnessed. There’s no way you’re interested in her… right? She may follow you around every minute of every day, but that’s not enough to make you fall in love with her, right? It’s not enough to make you yearn for her touch while Bada remains shut in her office, reviewing documents and signing papers…

“Bada…” Lusher trails off, noticing how her friend’s eyes become cloudy in thought. “I’m serious, don’t read too much into it. I was just joking around.”

“I’m not reading into it,” Bada responds after a beat. “My fiancée is her own woman, and what she does in her free time is none of my business. As long as she’s safe and happy, I’m content.”

Lusher frowns deeply, shaking her head. “But—”

“Don’t worry about it; I’m fine.” Bada holds up a hand to stop Lusher from continuing. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I want to finish this pile of papers before nightfall.”

Lusher looks between Bada and her work, unsure if she’s convinced that her friend wasn’t overthinking her joking comment. Eventually, she decides not to disturb Bada anymore, taking her leave and remaining oblivious to the chain of events she would unwittingly cause.

Like an unrelenting plague, Lusher’s words echo in Bada’s mind for the rest of the day, night, and the next day that follows. She tries to stay on task and finish her paperwork, but no matter how hard she tries, her mind will play cruel tricks on her, showing her images of your sweaty body sliding against Hyo’s, a smirk painted across her face as she services you with unrivaled pleasure.

Bada bangs her fist against her desk, dragging her chair back violently as she groans, running her fingers through her hair in frustration. If she can’t focus on her work, she might as well see what you’re up to and maybe spend some time with you. Not because she wants to observe your interactions with Hyo—no, not at all. She misses you, is all. In a friendly way, of course.

Leaving her office looking tired and disgruntled, Bada bumps into Soweon in her search for you. She asks her youngest subordinate if she knows where you are, to which she says yes, pointing in the direction of the terrace where the infinity pool lies. Bada says a quick thank you before fast walking in your direction, a prickle of nervousness building in her stomach, something she isn’t used to.

Stepping onto the terrace, Bada’s right hand busies itself by loosening her tie, noticing how tight it suddenly felt when her eyes find a sight that makes the nervousness in her stomach wash away, and instead, be replaced by a burning heat.

Your lower half is submerged in water while your upper half is arched into the warm afternoon air, water droplets falling from your throat and dipping down between your breasts as you hoist yourself out of the pool. In front of you, Hyo is holding out a white towel with one hand and grabbing onto yours in the other, helping you out of the pool.

There’s nothing particularly abnormal or intimate about the interaction, but it’s your bathing suit that makes Bada’s breath hitch, and the simmering fire burning within her spread. It’s a black ensemble, elegant, and compliments your figure to implausible lengths, that Bada wonders if it was handmade to make you look as divine as possible.

But your beautiful visage is overridden by Lusher’s words once again ringing in her mind.

Bada’s legs move before she can even think, rushing her over to where Hyo’s holding out the towel for you. She grabs it from her without a second thought, standing directly in front of her and taking your hand in hers, so Hyo’s unable to see you fully emerge from the pool.

“Bada?” You say, your eyes lighting up at the sight of her. “What are you doing here?”

“I decided to take a break.” She lies through her teeth, briefly checking behind her to see Hyo giving her a slightly confused look before she steps back, allowing her boss to take care of you instead. “Here,” Bada mumbles, wrapping the warm towel around your figure with haste and pulling you into her side.

The action makes butterflies flutter in your belly, and a shy smile overtake your lips. “Thank you.” You say softly, taking the chance to discreetly snuggle into Bada’s warmth.

“You’re welcome.” Bada nods, glancing at Hyo from the corner of her eye every few seconds. “So, is this where you’ve been all day?”

“Mostly,” you admit. “I haven’t swum much recently, and the sun was warm today, so I thought I’d cool off a bit in the water.”

“I see.” Bada nods. “And your bathing suit…” she trails off.

“What? Do you like it?” You ask innocently, unraveling the towel to give her another look at the piece.

Bada's eyes widen as she quickly wraps you in the towel again, feeling her body warm at the sight of yours. "Yes, yes, it looks very good on you," she hurries out. "But isn't it a little... inappropriate for Hyo to see you like this?"

"What do you mean?" You give Bada a confused look. "She sees me like this all the time."

Bada struggles to keep her composure as her thoughts start to race, and her hands instinctively curl into fists. "She does?"

"Yeah, I go swimming pretty often," you say casually, starting to walk toward the terrace exit. Bada follows, keeping you tucked into her side, and sending glares Hyo's way. You glance at your fiancée, noticing the black frames on her nose. "You're wearing your glasses again." Reaching up, you gently touch the side of them.

"Oh, yes," she mumbles. "I forgot I had them on."

"Bada, you need to stop pushing yourself so much." You pout.

Your fiancée smiles lightly, "You know, Lusher said the same thing."

"Because we're right." You insist. "You're lucky you don't have to wear those glasses every day."

"I won't let it get that bad."

You give her an unconvinced look, crossing your arms. "I'm holding you to that, you know."

"Oh?" Bada smirks. "And what will you do if I slip up?"

"I'll start visiting you every other hour to bother you until you take a break." You say playfully.

"Well, we can't have that, can we?" Bada banters back.

"Hmm, I don't know, I think you'd enjoy it." You mimic a thoughtful expression, making Bada laugh.

"I'd more than enjoy it." She admits, disguising her sincerity with a joking tone.

Slowing your pace, you find the door to your bedroom right ahead, which surprises you. You must have been so enraptured in your conversation with Bada that you didn't realize your legs were taking you back to your bedroom out of instinct.

Parting from Bada reluctantly, you stare at her with glittering eyes as you shift on your feet. "Thank you for coming to see me. I like spending time with you, even if it's only for a little."

Bada swears you’re trying to kill her, because why are you so sweet and lovely? All her life, Bada's dealt with ruthless businessmen, deceitful allies, and those who used her for personal gain. But you... you get genuine satisfaction out of simply seeing her. And she can't deny that she feels the same way.

"You're welcome," Bada says softly, rubbing her hand up and down your arm out of instinct. She doesn't realize the effect her touch has on you, but she sees the way you smile down at the floor. "You can visit me anytime, by the way. I wasn't lying before when I said I would enjoy you coming to see me." She admits brazenly.

"Okay then, I will." A brief pause of silence envelops you two before you turn to look back at your bedroom door. "I'm going to go take a shower. I'll see you later?"

"Of course," Bada nods. She steps forward to open the door for you, watching you head in before closing it behind you with one last small goodbye. She stays still for a moment, staring at the spot where you’d just been, lost in thought. When she finally recollects herself, she pushes her glasses farther up her nose and turns on her feet, about to head in the direction of her office. But upon beginning her stride, she is met with Hyo’s figure standing a few feet away.

“Have a good afternoon, Boss,” she says calmly.

Bada’s mood plummets in an instant, her expression souring at Hyo’s flippant demeanor. She gives a low hum in response before continuing down the hall toward her office.

That instance was only the mildest out of three that led up to Bada’s eventual break.

Instance number two occurred while Bada was hard at work. She’d been on a call, about to seal the deal on an important partnership between her and one of the lead car manufacturers in Seoul.

“I’m sure there are ways we can both benefit from this endeavor.” Bada’s voice projects into her work phone.

“There’s no doubt in my mind that you’re correct,” Nam-Su answers on the other line. “But I feel there are some logistical points that still need to be addressed.”

“By all means, ask me anything.” Bada walks around her office, making sure to remain attentive while Nam-Su speaks. If she manages to close this deal, her entire facility will have a steady supply of fortified and modified cars, perfect for jobs.

“Very well, my main issue stems from…” Nam-Su begins to rant, leaving Bada to simply hum in the background while considering his deal. Surprisingly, he had many valid and insightful questions–though she should have expected that from him. Nam-Su was always described as a cunning businessman–when he wasn’t telling jokes in the workplace. Still, Bada manages to reel Nam-Su in with her impeccable rhetoric, and persuasive offers.

It seems like she’s just about to close the deal when a noise causes her to pause her pacing. She looks up from the floor, squinting with a confused expression to her right, where she thought she heard the noise come from. Her eyes find the window that oversees the large garden right outside her office, locking on the fountain immediately. Assuming that to be the origin of the noise, she turns away, tuning back into her conversation with Nam-Su, who’s now ranting about his breakfast for some reason.

“That’s quite interesting, Mr. Im, but going back to the deal, how often and at what speed are you normally able to create heavily modified cars?”

“Ah yes, usually it takes around–”

The noise cuts in again, making Bada’s head whip toward the window again, this time sure that she heard it. She steps closer to the window, once again squinting in hopes of finding the source. But this time, she does. And she almost wishes she didn’t.

Bada sees you first, twirling into view in a beautiful and elegant sundress, looking like a goddess among the flowers in the garden. You’re laughing boisterously–which Bada realizes was the noise she heard, the sound muffled because of the glass barrier–at something just out of her view. You move to sit on the edge of the fountain, kicking your feet up a bit and revealing the creamy skin of your leg. Bada’s lips curl into a soft smile out of instinct, the sight of you so happy and carefree so pure that she can’t focus on a word Nam-Su is saying.

But just like always, Bada’s never able to fully admire you in peace, because another figure emerges, a black blob disturbing the color and sanctity of the garden. It’s Hyo, of course, dressed in her usual black suit and dark sunglasses. However, one thing stands out to Bada.

Hyo’s smiling.

And not just a simple, small smile, no–she’s smiling widely, borderline laughing with you as she stands in front of you, saying something that makes you give her a cheeky look.

Then she sees it.

Atop Hyo’s head is a ring of baby’s breath flowers woven together to make a crown. And similarly, sitting on yours is a colorful combination of peonies.

Bada's left hand tightens into a fist as she stares at you both, laughing and giggling like schoolgirls with crushes on each other. What was going on between you two? Where did this sudden air of intimacy come from? Has it always been there? Had Bada just been too wrapped up in her work to realize you and Hyo were becoming suspiciously close?

Either way it doesn’t matter, because all Bada can think about is how badly she wants to be standing there in Hyo’s place, admiring you up close, and laughing alongside you without a care in the world. She so badly yearns to be the only one you allow to hear your melodious giggles or share intimate moments with. (So caught up in her own jealousy, Bada doesn’t even realize her thoughts are continuing to stray away from friendship, and farther into romance.)

Bada’s eyes narrow to slits, glaring at Hyo’s every micromovement and scrutinizing it. She briefly considers leaving the office to interrupt, but before she can, she notices you freeze in your spot. A second passes before your eyes meet Hyo’s and become wide. Tiny droplets of water begin to rain down from the sky in steady streams, dotting your dress and deepening its color. You stand up in a hurry, your smile remaining on your lips as you hold your hands above your head, trying to shield yourself from the rain.

Hyo looks up at the sky and says something Bada’s unable to hear, but she sees you motion towards entering the mansion again and feels a wave of relief flood through her body. The world must be on her side. Clearly, it despised the sight of you and Hyo together as well, if the heavy downpour was any indication.

And yet… Hyo takes a step to the side, grabbing something out of Bada’s view before she walks closer to you, revealing an umbrella. Your smile only widens, unheard words falling from your mouth as you sit down on the edge of the fountain again, this time with Hyo sitting next to you. Bada’s eyes switch to cold in an instant, and she bites her lip in frustration. But of course, it seems the universe wants to torture her more, because you start to shiver, the dewy rain on your dress most likely giving you a chill. Because of that you unconsciously lean heavier into Hyo’s side, until you give in and press yourself against her arm, shaking like a leaf.

The simple action makes Bada’s entire body light on fire, a deep-seated jealousy rearing its ugly head as her teeth dig further into her lips, the force so strong that if she didn’t stop, she’d end up breaking the skin of her lip.

In the garden, it seems Hyo has finally noticed your shivering, because she breaks away for a brief moment to tug off her suit jacket before draping it around your shoulders, and bringing you into her side again, nodding when you mutter something to her.

Bada’s hand tightens around her work phone with impossible force, a droplet of blood falling from her lip as she stares at you both through the tinted window of her office while you speak to each other, completely oblivious to Bada’s gaze, or her anger.

“...Ms. Lee, are you alright?” Nam-Su’s voice breaks through the ringing in Bada’s ear, his tone a mesh between mild worry and genuine confusion at her prolonged silence.

“I’m great, Mr. Im,” she lies through her teeth, the glass screen of her phone cracking under the pressure of her hands.

The last instance, and the one that managed to finally break through Bada’s facade comes the night of Nam-Su’s ball.

Having successfully sealed the partnership between them despite her distraction, the cheerful man sent Bada an invitation the day after, proposing to throw a celebratory ball. He not only invited her, but Bebe too, and made sure to include a plus one ticket–having heard the rumors of you through the grapevine.

Although Bada doesn’t normally enjoy social events, she realizes it’s an opportunity to spend more intimate time with you, and jumps at the chance. She asks you to go as her plus one, to which you immediately accept.

Now, on the night of the ball, Bada looks at herself in the floor-length mirror in her room. Her eyes run down her figure multiple times, looking closely for any imperfections; wrinkles in her dress shirt, the position of her tie, or a stain on her customized suit. She finds none, but does one last check before leaving her bedroom in search of you.

You–much like Bada had once been–are picking over your appearance nervously while endless thoughts pass through your mind.

Tonight is a very important milestone in your relationship with Bada. Not only will you be making your public debut as her fiancée, as well as meeting multiple of her allied gangs, but this is also your first time attending a ball with incredibly high-profile socialites from all over South Korea. Disappointing their expectations of you or embarrassing yourself is not an option. Everything must be perfect for both your sake, and Bada’s.

As if hearing your thoughts, a light rapping against your door alerts you of Bada’s presence. “Are you ready?”

“Yes!” You answer hurriedly, gathering your bag and rushing to exit. You step out of your bedroom with a nervous smile, turning to face Bada once you’ve closed the door behind you.

Upon making eye contact with her, you immediately notice that she’s not in her usual black suit. Instead, she’s wearing an overall–looking suit jacket, one that somehow makes her even more attractive. She’s also wearing a ring on the middle finger of her right hand, as well as another on the knuckle of her thumb, which makes you swoon. Bada Lee is the most attractive woman you’ve ever seen.

While you appraise Bada’s appearance, your fiancée takes the chance to appraise you, but is struck with a bolt of shock at your choice of clothing. A ravishing, floor-length black dress with boning along the top adorns your figure, and pushes up the tops of your smooth breasts, displaying them, while a large slit begins along the side of it. It allows Bada to see the garter that holds up your mesh nylons–she feels herself gulp every moment her eyes instinctively dip down to look at your breasts or thigh.

The dress is paired with lace gloves, and the necklace Bada had given you.

Each element paired together decorates your body like beautiful embellishments, creating the vision of perfection in Bada’s eyes.

Her jaw drops out of surprise and astonishment, but once her mind catches up, various thoughts start to form. They start relatively innocent, “She’s so beautiful.” But then they start to stray, “Everyone at the ball will see her.” Until slowly, apprehension builds in her stomach. “I don’t want others to see her like this.”

“Bada?” Your voice brings your fiancée out of her spiraling thoughts. “Should we get going?”

“Oh, yes.” She clears her throat awkwardly, trying to fight the heat that she feels forming in her cheeks. “Sorry, I was–” She stutters. “You look absolutely stunning.”

You laugh bashfully to yourself. “Thank you. You look amazing as well.”

Bada simply smiles back at you, still recovering from your radiance as she holds out her arm. You take it without hesitating, falling in line with her as you both start walking away from your bedroom and toward the stairs to the first level of the mansion. Hyo follows after you as always, keeping her footsteps light while you and Bada engage in conversation.

“When did you buy this dress?”

“I ordered it a few days ago.” You respond. “I wanted to have a more appropriate dress for the occasion.”

“Well, nobody will be able to keep their eyes off of you,” Bada says confidently, beginning the descent down the stairs, holding onto you tight and making sure to help you balance on your heels.

“You think so?”

“I know so.” Bada takes the last step down the stairs first, turning to hold onto your waist as she guides you off the stairs.

“Are we the last to leave?” You ask, noticing the lack of Bebe members.

“Lusher and the rest of the girls left earlier.” Bada nods. “I had them scope out the venue to ensure it’s safe for you.”

“But aren’t all the attendees allies?”

“Yes, so they say.” Bada moves toward the entrance of the mansion, pushing the doors open to reveal her sports car already parked in the cobble-stone driveway. “But after everything you’ve experienced recently, I don’t want to take any risks.”

Bada’s words take you back to the Seong incident, and how terrified you’d been, trapped in her hideout. Your lips curl downwards in a frown, your eyes falling to the floor in thought.

Bada notices the shift in your demeanor, and immediately pauses, turning to face you with a gentle and determined expression. “You don’t have to worry about that happening again. All of Bebe will be paying close attention to you the whole night, and I as well. We won’t let anything happen to you.”

You shake your head, “I’m not scared. I trust you.”

Trust. A bond Bada never thought she’d be able to make again since her mother died. And yet, with you, everything comes naturally and easily.

The car ride to Nam-Su’s is relatively long. You find yourself cycling through many conversations with Bada, ranging from what you did this week, to what she did. Eventually, the conversation strays back to the ball.

“So just how influential are the socialites attending?” You ask.

“Hmm, well in terms of power and connections,” Bada begins, “I outrank all of them.”

“Really?” You awe.

“Yes,” Bada nods. “But it’s still very important to make a good impression. They may not have as much influence on me, but making enemies out of them could be detrimental.”

“Right, of course.” You clasp your hands together tightly, hoping the pressure will alleviate some of the nerves building in the pit of your stomach.

“What’s on your mind?” Bada questions softly.

You glance at her and sigh, “I guess I’m just a little worried I’ll say or do something wrong. I’m not used to being around extremely important men and women.”

“You don’t need to be nervous.” Bada grabs your hands and parts them, weaving your fingers together. “You’ll do great.”

“I don’t know–”

“Hey,” She tugs gently on your woven hands, making you turn to face her. “just be yourself. If you do that, they’ll all love you.”

The car comes to a stop just as Bada’s words fade into the open air, driving your focus away from her briefly and to the window instead. Outside, there are already a few paparazzi gathered around the car, their cameras positioned upward, as they wait with baited breath for you to exit.

“Paparazzi.” You breathe.

“They don’t usually show up like this.” Bada frowns, taking her phone out and typing quickly. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it handled.”

Right as she finishes her sentence, all of Bebe walks out of Nam-Su’s mansion onto the driveway. Lusher and Tatter take the lead pushing the paparazzi away from your car, while the rest of the girls focus on creating a walkway for you both to use.

“Hyo,” Bada says firmly.

“Yes, Boss,” your bodyguard answers quickly, fully parking the car and exiting it. She moves to stand next to your side of the car, but doesn’t open your door, because Bada has already left the car and circled around toward you, opening the door for you.

She holds her hand out for you to take as you slide your exposed thigh out of the car, holding onto her as you move to stand up. Immediately, flashes from the paparazzi’s cameras start to bombard you, but thankfully Bada quickly adjusts her position so she’s standing directly in front of you, blocking the lights from blinding you.

Bebe also jumps into action, hollering at the paparazzi who become overeager and start yelling at you to show your face, or for Bada to move out of the way.

“Hey, who do you think you’re talking to?” Lusher asks loudly, her face scrunched up in disgust.

“Have some respect!” Minah adds, stepping closer to a paparazzo and making him back away.

Bada remains unbothered by the yelling behind her, already used to the demanding nature of having a public life. “Are you okay?”

You take in a deep breath as you stare at Bada, before putting on a confident expression. “Yes.”

“Remember, just be yourself.” She whispers, linking her fingers with yours again. You from your joint hands to Bada, your eyes going wide as you glance at the paparazzi a few feet away, worried they’d see the display of affection. “Don’t worry,” Bada assures you, “they already know. They can’t do anything about it.”

Reinvigorating yourself, you nod firmly, signaling to her that you’re finally ready. Bada nods back, stepping aside so that you’re now shoulder to shoulder as you begin your stride toward the entrance to Nam-Su’s mansion. The paparazzi start to go crazy, snapping photo after photo of you two, but through the noise and the chaos you hold your head high, wanting to make Bada proud.

Behind you both, Hyo and Bebe do crowd control, surprised at the amount of paparazzi that have begun to slowly trickle in, solely focused on snatching an exclusive photo of you to plaster on headlines tomorrow. “Influential Socialite Bada Lee has found her partner?”

You try to dispel all negative thoughts as you stop in front of the entrance, Bada reaching into her left pocket to retrieve her invitation, and handing it to the man standing by the door. He barely takes a look at it before giving you both a bright smile, and motioning for you both to enter.

You look at Bada from the corner of your eye with an amused expression, which she mirrors. “Famous, are we?”

“What could have given you that impression?” Bada says playfully, guiding you further into the main hall.

You have to admit, Nam-Su really had taken no prisoners when it came to decorating his home. A large chandelier dangles low in the center of the room, glittering diamonds falling from the prongs like teardrops, and casting a low, beige light across the room. Tables hug the sides of the walls, with flowers tumbling out of their boxes atop of them, and adjacent to trays of small, Michelin star foods. Everything is beautiful, including the guests.

“Look who it is!” An excited voice reaches your ears, making you turn in that direction out of instinct. A woman with blonde hair, a bright smile, and a mature look heads in your direction. She’s wearing a low cut dusty pink dress that compliments her curves excellently.

“Ohh, Kirsten!” Bada says excitedly, switching to English to greet her friend. She meets her halfway and gives her a friendly hug, before pulling away. “I didn’t know you were back in Korea."

“I have some business to oversee here before we’re back to Australia and the States.” The woman, Kirsten replies. Her eyes drift away from Bada for a split second, finding yours instead. Her smile immediately widens, noticing how your arm is looped with Bada. “And who is this pretty lady? I love your dress, by the way.”

“Oh, yes,” Bada turns to look at you, showing a genuine enthusiasm at the thought of introducing you to her friend. “Kirsten, this is my fiancée,” she mutters your name while you step forward, a friendly smile adorning your lips as you shake hands with the older woman.

“Hello,” you greet her in perfect English, watching as her smile doubles in size. “Thank you, I love your dress as well.”

Bada speaks up again, gesturing to her friend, “This is Kirsten, she handles foreign affairs and runs her own group in Australia. We’ve been business partners and friends for a while now.”

“Hold on,” Kirsten cuts in, mimicking an offended expression. “I’m still surprised by the fiancée comment. Why didn’t you tell me you got engaged, Bada?” She acts like a mother scolding her younger daughter, making your smile widen and a small laugh fall from your lips.

“I was trying to keep it under wraps.” Bada says sheepishly. “I’m sorry.”

“You can make up for it by inviting me and the girls to the wedding as honored guests.” Kirsten remarks proudly.

“Ah, of course.” Bada nods, smiling widely. “Where are Audrey and Latrice, by the way?”

“Oh, it’s just me this time.” Kirsten clarifies. “They’re both still in Australia, handling things there while I’m here.”

“How often do you come to visit Korea?” You cut in, interested to learn more about her.

“I only really come when I’m needed.” She answers. “No offense, I love it here, but I get homesick very easily.”

“Oh, I would too.” You agree.

“Australia is my favorite place to be.” Kirsten says while making a heart shape with her hand, mimicking a thoughtful expression. Her youthful attitude makes your nerves slowly edd away as you laugh along with her. “Also, can I just say, your English is amazing.”

“Thank you so much.” You place a hand on your chest, the compliment making you smile.

“Of course, of course.” Kirsten takes hold of your hands, swaying them in a playful manner. “Bada, I think you really struck gold here.” She winks in your direction while looking at Bada.

“Yes, I really did.” Your finacée answers earnestly. All the while you and Kirsten were speaking, she’d been watching you silently, admiring the way you interacted with one of her close friends so naturally. If anything, she felt this proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that you were meant to be a part of her life.

“Ah, Ms. Lee!” Nam-Su’s voice interjects into the conversation. He stands a few feet away, his wife on his arm as he waves you and Bada over.

“Well,” Kirsten starts, “I’ll let you two go. It was wonderful meeting you!” She steps forward to give you a hug, surprising you, but you immediately reciprocate, already feeling comfortable around her.

“Thank you, I enjoyed meeting you as well!” You respond. Kirsten breaks away from the hug, muttering a goodbye to Bada as well before leaving to speak to another guest. You watch her leave for a second, then turn to face Bada. “She’s very sweet.”

“She is, isn’t she?” Your finacée takes your hand again, guiding you in Nam-Su’s direction.

“When did you two meet?”

Bada hums lightly, thinking. “I believe she’d just turned twenty, and I was around my mid twenties.”

“She’s younger than you?” You stare at her with wide, and shocked irises.

“Yes, she’s closer to your age than mine.” Bada nods. “Are you surprised?”

You nod, “She has a very mature look.”

“She does. But don’t feel bad, a lot of people think Kirsten is older than she really is.” Bada slows her pace as you both near Nam-Su, and switches to a more professional demeanor.

“Ms. Lee,” Nam-Su greets Bada again. He then turns to you, “and…”

“This is my finacée,” Bada introduces you to her business partner.

“Ah, I believe I’ve met your parents.” Nam-Su nods. “I see they’ve done well, you are a beautiful young woman.”

“Thank you so much.” You say politely, slightly bowing your head out of respect.

You, Bada, Nam-Su, and occasionally his wife, all engage in a comfortable, and friendly conversation. From this, you learn Nam-Su is a surprisingly carefree man, cutting into the conversation with random anecdotes and jokes. You end up enjoying yourself more than you expected to, but somewhere down the line, the conversation strays to Nam-Su and Bada’s deal, leaving you and the man’s wife out of the loop.

You tap on Bada’s arm lightly, diverting her attention away from Nam-Su to you. “I think I’m going to get a drink from the refreshment table.”

“Oh, sure.” She nods, giving your hand an encouraging squeeze.

“If you’ll excuse me.” You say to Nam-Su and his wife, gesturing toward the table across the room with champagne flutes and appetizers.

“Be my guest.” Nam-Su smiles.

You break away from the group, walking toward the refreshments while letting out a deep breath. Although everything’s been going well so far, you still feel mildly stressed, constantly checking your posture and making sure to remember proper etiquette. Reaching the table, you grab a champagne flute, holding it up to your lips and taking a small sip. The bubbly alcohol runs down your throat with a mild burn, the taste sharp, but also sweet.

“You’re looking a little bit tense over there.” A voice comes from beside you, making you turn away quickly and cover your mouth in surprise. “Oh come on, do I look that old to you?” Hyo raises an eyebrow at you, crossing her arms across her chest.

“No, no.” You answer quickly, turning to face Hyo with wide eyes. But when you finally stand face-to-face with her, you’re surprised to make eye contact with hazel eyes, the black sunglasses she wears nowhere to be seen. “You’re not wearing your sunglasses…”

“Did you really think I’d wear them at this kind of event?” Hyo scoffs lightheartedly.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without them before.” You mutter, completely ignoring her question. “Oh, and about before, I don’t think you’re old, you just startled me.”

“Well at least you’re being careful.” Hyo shrugs. “Really sparing no expense on formality, huh?”

“This,” you gesture at the ballroom. “Is important to Bada.”

Hyo hums lightly, “It is for you as well.”

“Not as much as her.” You say softly. “Most of the people here have known her much longer than I have. I need to make a good impression.”

Hyo frowns at your words, placing her hand on your back and patting it lightly. “You need to loosen up, kid. Have some fun.”

“I’m trying.” You sigh. “But it’s hard to when all I can think about is the fact that I have to turn away from everyone to drink.”

Hyo laughs at your words, which makes a subtle smile form on your lips. “Well you don’t have to for Bebe, the Boss, or me.”

“You guys are the only exception.” You admit. Silence falls between you two for a few minutes while you continue to take small sips of your champagne, and Hyo turns to face the crowd of partygoers, watching them closely.

“Hey,” your bodyguard suddenly speaks up.

“Yeah?”

“Why don’t I take some pictures of you?” She makes a camera gesture with her hands, a playful look on her face.

“Pictures?” You glance around you with a hesitant expression. “Isn’t that inappropriate?”

“Come on, it’ll just be a few. You look cute, don’t you want to post them to social media?” Hyo insists. When you still give her a worried look, she sighs. “I’ll be fast, just give me your phone.”

You reluctantly hand her your phone, which she quickly taps into the camera app, taking a step back so she gets your entire dress and body in the frame.

“Okay,” she drags out the y in the word, “give me a sexy pose.”

You let out a deep breath before positioning yourself comfortably, and switching to a more alluring expression.

Hyo gives a hum of approval. “That’s good, maybe just turn to the side more.”

You do as she asks, the pose accentuating your nylon-covered thigh.

“Perfect, stay right there.” She holds up a hand before tapping on your phone, and taking the picture. “Okay, another pose.”

You shift around a bit, now growing more confident as you stare into the camera intensely.

“Ohh, that one’s nice.” Hyo mumbles under her breath. “And, last one. Make this one cute.”

You immediately smile, changing your posture to be more youthful and relaxed. Hyo taps one last time on your phone before passing it back to you, muttering compliments. You glance at the photos, surprised by how good they came out. Your figure stands out amidst the partygoers behind you, the low light highlighting your features and giving you a subtle glow.

Truthfully, you look amazing.

“Wow.” You mutter.

“My picture taking skills are out of this world.” Hyo banters. You roll your eyes at her playfully, nudging her shoulder. “I’m kidding kid, you look good.” She looks over your shoulder at the pictures again, nodding. “You should post them.”

You contemplate it for a second before doing as she says. Opening Instagram, you make a new post with all three pictures, simply captioning them with a champagne emoji.

Time passes by relatively fast after that, women and men from across the room approaching you to make conversation and introduce themselves. You greet them all timidly but politely, Hyo moving to stand off to the side, silently remaining vigilant as you slowly begin to loosen up further, even making some friends with the women who compliment your dress.

However, across the room, Bada leans against the wall while holding a glass of champagne in her right hand, alone. After you left, Nam-Su only spoke to her a bit longer before breaking off to speak to other guests. It was then that Bada realized you’d been gone for a while, and turned to look for you, only to see Hyo standing next to you, taking pictures of you.

Like clockwork, that venomous and sickening feeling of jealousy bubbles at the surface, making Bada’s expression immediately sour, and her gaze lock onto you both. She waited for Hyo to stop taking pictures of you so she could approach you, but just as soon as she did, other women started to gather around you, their voices just barely reaching Bada’s ears across the room, but she was able to make out every compliment they hurtled your way. And while Hyo fell back into her role as a bodyguard, that didn’t stop other women–and eventually men, from circling you and talking your ear off.

You stand in the center of it, looking shy and a bit reserved, but it seems that only makes them swoon even more. Like a new blooming flower amidst a garden of plain roses, you stand out like a beautiful jewel.

It makes Bada sick to her stomach. She has to watch from afar as their eyes stray from your eyes, dipping down to your breasts or your thigh, their gaze caressing every feature of yours like predators.

She only lasts a few minutes like that before she pushes off the wall, about to interrupt and make it clear to the crowd around you that you’re already spoke for–that you’re hers, and they will never be able to lay their hands on you like they desire to–when a loud voice stops her.

“Bada!” The voice says excitedly.

Bada turns to face the source, mentally cursing herself for not moving faster when she sees who it is. “Raong.” She says with a light sigh.

“I can’t believe I didn’t see you before! How long have you been here?” Raong attaches herself to Bada without a care in the world, missing how the older woman tries to avoid the touch.

Raong is the daughter of Dong-Geun, one of Bada’s oldest business partners. A while back, when he caught word of Bada being rumored to take over her deceased father’s gang, he’d offered one of his sons up as a potential suitor, trying to make her family. But of course, Bada immediately denied. Though she didn’t explain why at the time, Dong-Geun later found out it was because she wasn’t looking for male suitors.

Since then, he’d begun shoving his daughter at Bada, practically begging her to marry Raong. Bada refused once again, this time because she wasn’t looking for a spouse at the time–or ever. At least, that’s what she believed back then.

Eventually, after years of bothering her, Dong-Geun gave up, realizing it was better to keep Bada as a business partner rather than distance her from him by pushing his daughter onto her day after day.

But it seemed Raong never got the memo. Because although she only spoke to Bada a few times at most, she somehow managed to develop a puppy crush on the (much) older woman. She never left Bada alone at events, becoming a nuisance like no other and making Bada hesitant to make public appearances.

“I arrived about an hour ago.” Bada replies in a monotone voice.

“Really? That’s so long ago.” Raong says, making her eyes go wide in an attempt to look cute. Something that fails miserably.

Bada says nothing in response, instead lifting her glass of champagne up to her lips, about to take a sip of it when Raong suddenly grabs it.

“You really shouldn’t be drinking so much!” She pouts. “It’s bad for your health.”

“It’s champagne.” Bada deadpans, already feeling the soul being sucked out of her.

Raong smiles cheekily, glancing between the alcohol and Bada. “You’re right.” She lifts the glass up to her lips, placing them directly onto the spot Bada had hers on, and takes a big gulp of the drink. She pulls away with a proud look, holding the glass up for Bada to take. “Here.”

“No thank you.” Bada immediately answers, her face stone cold. “I’d rather get a new one.”

For some reason, her comment makes Raong laugh loudly–incredibly loud–to the point that other guests turn their heads in her direction, their expressions showing a mix between shock and disapproval.

“Bada, there’s no need to act so shy.” Raong says, completely oblivious to the negative attention she’s garnered. “We may be in public, but everyone knows that we’re the most attractive couple here.”

“Couple?” Bada scoffs. “Where did you get that from?” Out of instinct, her eyes move from Raong’s figure to search for yours. And when she does, a revelation like no other dawns upon her.

You’re standing in the middle of a circle of men and women like before, but instead of speaking to them, your eyes are solely focused on Bada–no, focused on Raong, who clings to her like a needy girlfriend. Your expression shows nothing but absolute discomfort and anger, a look Bada’s never seen you wear before.

You’re jealous. She realizes, the thought echoing in her head over and over again and making a strange, satisfied feeling build in her gut. You must be feeling like she’d been for the past few days while watching you and Hyo interact–full of resentment and annoyance at the woman touching her.

Then, another thought comes to mind. Will she act upon her jealousy if I push her more?

Bada knows she shouldn’t be this petty. As the older woman in the relationship, and the one more emotionally mature, she should put a stop to Raong’s advances, walk up to you, and whisk you away, ridding both of your sour feelings so you can enjoy the night together free from inhibition.

But the more sinful part of Bada wants you to fully understand how she’s felt the past few days–the turmoil and envy that comes from seeing someone you care about fall into the arms of someone else.

Unfortunately for you, Bada will almost always succumb to sin.

“Come on Bada, I know you feel something for me.” Raong pushes herself against the older woman’s arm, trying to make her breasts pop, and look enticing.

Although Bada feels nothing at the action, she plays along. “You’re right, I do.” She says in a low voice looking down to stare directly into Raong’s eyes.

Bada’s behavior even surprises her, the younger girl gapes for a bit before quickly switching back to her piss-poor attempt at being seductive. “I’m so glad you’ve finally realized we’re meant for each other.” Her voice pitches upwards, trying to do an aegyo voice.

The result only causes a nails-on chalkboard effect, almost making Bada wince and break her facade. But before she can, she quickly glances at you. You’re still staring at her, your expression now much further into the territory of anger, before you shift your gaze somewhere else hastily, trying to make it seem like you hadn’t been glaring at her and Raong.

“I’m sorry it’s taken me this long.” Bada turns back to Raong, playing the act up by tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

The action makes you gasp across the room, daggers physically puncturing your heart.

Bada hears the sound, and has to stop herself from smirking too widely. Yes, finally you understand how it feels.

Raong swoons at Bada’s display, turning away from her with blushing cheeks and giggling loudly.

“Hey, Boss!” Lusher suddenly appears on Bada’s other side, trying to look casual as she glances between Raong and her friend. “What are you doing?”

“What do you mean?” Bada says casually.

“I mean, why are you all over,” she lowers her voice to a whisper to say the next word, “the pest!”

“I’m not all over her, I’m simply being polite.” Bada mutters back, discreetly glancing at you yet again.

“Yeah, right. When have you ever been polite to her?” Lusher catches her straying gaze, finding you on the other side of it. Immediately, it all clicks in her mind. “If this is about what I said a few days ago–”

“Shouldn’t you be keeping a lookout right now?” Bada cuts her off sharply.

“Boss…” Lusher says in a disapproving tone. Her friend doesn’t budge, instead turning her back toward her and speaking to Raong again. Sensing the conversation is over, Lusher walks away with a pit of guilt burning in her stomach, seeing you struggle to hide your emotions as Bada pretends to fawn over the younger woman beside her.

“What’s going on?” Kirsten stops at Lusher’s side, her eyebrows dipping downward as she observes Bada’s strange behavior.

“I think I might have caused this.” Lusher admits, hanging her head in shame.

If someone were to ask you how you were feeling at the moment, the best word to describe it would be "out-of-body."

You truly feel like you’re watching the events in front of you unfold as an omnipotent being. Your eyes are able to take in every movement of both Bada and the girl on her arm to the finest detail, which proves to be a cruel form of torture.

Why is this happening? You find yourself questioning over and over again in your mind. Why is Bada acting this way? Why is she allowing that woman to touch her? And why does it look like she enjoys it?

You swear you feel bile form in your throat with every touch they exchange, and although there’s nothing more that you want to do than to run away in shame, you physically can’t. You’re rooted to the floor like a statue, cursed to watch your fiancée flirt with another woman.

Perhaps this is your fault for being so naive. Did you really think that Bada would remain loyal to you when your engagement had been a business deal from the start? When she so firmly stated that she’d never fall in love with you? How could you have believe that she felt something for you when she touched you so gently, smiled at you, and made you laugh?

Had Bada been secretly having affairs with women from the start? Had she touched them like she did, you? Did she mutter to them how beautiful they looked? Did she undress them with her eyes?

…How could you be so stupid–so young and stupid.

But the worst is yet to come.

You watch in slow motion as the woman beside Bada shifts on her feet, putting all her weight onto her tippy toes as she reaches up to place a kiss on your fiancée’s lips. They’re just about to touch–

“Alright kid, let’s go.” Hyo steps in front of you, blocking your view of Bada and the woman. She grabs onto your arm in a hurry, taking off her jacket and placing it on top of your head to shield you from any straying gazes as she fast-walks you out of the Nam-Su’s mansion, barely managing to tell Lusher that she’s taking you home before you’re out of the door, the only evidence of your attendance the droplets of small tears dotting the floor.

The entire car ride is dead silent, Hyo’s lips sealed tight into lines, and not a single sound coming from you in the backseat that she has to check every few minutes on you to make sure you’re still there.

You are, but your head is down, her suit jacket blocking her view of you as you fight back waves of tears building in your eyes.

“Bada, I have to tell you the truth, I’ve always been in love with you…” The second those words left Raong’s lips, and she began leaning upward in an attempt to kiss her, Bada knew she went too far.

She immediately breaks away from Raong’s hold, the disgusted face she’d been trying to hold back for so long surfacing in an instant. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“What do you mean?” Raong still keeps her voice artificially high, trying to get closer to Bada again. “Are you too shy to do it in public? Should we go somewhere private–”

“I will be going nowhere with you.” Bada interrupts in a stern voice, straightening out her suit. “I’m engaged.”

Raong’s smile finally drops, a sour look crossing her face. “So you really did propose to another woman.” She glances from the floor to Bada again, mustering up another embarrassing “sexy” look. “But it’s fine, she doesn’t have to know.”

Bada scowls at the younger woman. “I mean this in the most polite way possible,” she watches as Raong starts to frown, “I would never choose you, or any other woman over my fiancée. She is the only woman I will ever touch, or kiss.”

Raong stands in front of Bada, frozen and humiliated beyond belief.

“I suggest you stop making advances toward me, if you know what’s good for you.” Bada finally says the words she’s been wanting to for years now, and it’s like a weight has been lifted off of her shoulders. She leaves Raong standing there without a second thought, heading in your direction before she stops, realizing you’re not there anymore.

Her eyebrows furrow, an immediate spike of worry hitting her heart as she searches for Lusher through the crowd of partygoers.

When she finds her friend, she walks as quickly as possible towards her. “Where did she go?” Bada says, looking from one side of the room to the other in a frenetic manner.

Lusher glances at Kirsten who stands next to her, hesitating before answering. “Hyo took her home…”

Bada’s eyes narrow to slits in milliseconds. “Lusher, I’m taking your car.”

The Lee mansion feels eerily quiet when Bada enters, the lights reflecting off the white marble flooring, casting an ominous glow as she ascends the stairs.

Although she knows the mess she’s caused is purely her own fault, a part of her wants to deny it. She wants to call it retribution for all the mental torment she’s experienced over the past few days.

She wants to call it that, but she knows she can’t.

Standing in front of your door, Bada’s eyes find Hyo’s figure with ease. Your bodyguard is wearing her classic sunglasses again, but this time she doesn’t greet her superior. She doesn’t even acknowledge her presence, simply stands there, her lips in a firm line with her arms crossed against her chest.

Bada briefly considers speaking with Hyo, but eventually decides against it, knowing she should check on you first, before anything else. Her hand reaches up to knock on the wood of your door, the sound echoing through the hallway as she retracts her fist.

She waits there for about three minutes with no response before pushing the door open and entering your bedroom.

Most of the lights have been turned off, just one raining down a small amount of light and illuminating the room. Bada closes the door behind her, the guilt that had already been brewing in her stomach doubling when she notices you’re not in bed, but sitting in front of your vanity with your dress still on, staring at your reflection with an emotionless expression.

Bada mutters your name, stopping a few feet away from you. “I knocked on your door, did you hear me?”

You don’t respond, only continue to stare at your reflection, completely disregarding her presence.

Bada frowns at you, clearly disappointed by your silence. “You shouldn’t have left so suddenly. I was worried about you.” This time, she sees something shift in your eyes, but still, you remain quiet and stock still. Bada huffs, becoming increasingly frustrated as she gets closer to you, stopping right by your side. “Is that Hyo’s jacket?” She gestures to your bodyguard’s suit that’s strewn across your shoulders.

This time when you don’t answer her, Bada finally snaps, releasing the tension that’d been brewing in her for so long.

“Would you say something to me?” She says, the words coming out much harsher than she intended them to.

Your lips stay stuck together for a minute before they finally part. “What do you want me to say, Bada?” Your voice sounds an equal mix of tired, and uncharacteristically cold. “You made yourself perfectly clear at the ball.”

Your fiancée stares at you from through the reflection of the mirror, trying to lock eyes with you. “Why are you acting this way?”

“Why am I acting this way?” You scoff, rolling your eyes. “You shouldn’t ask such obvious questions.”

“I’m asking because I don’t know.” She lies through her teeth. She does know, and despite that she continues to push you, wanting to hear you say the words, “I’m jealous.”

“You know, if you wanted to fool around with other women, the least you could do was take it somewhere private where I wouldn’t have to see.” You shoot back, tone bordering on venomous.

“I wasn’t fooling around with her.” Bada denies firmly. “And you’re one to talk.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” You finally look away from the mirror, turning to face Bada with a furious expression.

“Hyo took you home.” Your fiancée lists. “You’re wearing her jacket. She took photos of you while we were at a public event. You’ve been spending a lot of time with her.”

“Oh please, spare me, Bada Lee,” you interrupt, your voice rising. “She’s my bodyguard! And I don’t touch her like you touched that woman. I haven’t kissed her–”

“I didn’t kiss Raong,” Bada interjects.

“I spend so much time with her because all you do is work all day!” You continue ranting. “I have never once disrespected you like you just did to me thirty minutes ago.”

“It’s not like that–” Bada tries to explain herself, but now that you’re speaking, you can’t stop.

“I know you said that you would never fall in love with me, but what the fuck?” You exclaim. “How could you just kiss her in front of all of those people when you introduced me as your fiancée?”

“I didn’t kiss her.” Bada reiterates, feeling her patience wear thin.

“Some of the guests know my parents!” You’re bordering on tears once again. “Can you imagine what they’ll think when they hear that my future wife kissed another woman in front of the most influential people in South Korea?”

“God damn it–” Bada steps forward, her frustration finally getting the better of her as she grabs you by the waist, pulling you flush against her body, forcing you to look into her eyes. "I never kissed Raong," she says again, her voice full of force. "I would never kiss her. I would never kiss a woman that isn't you."

Silence falls heavily across the room, your expression shifting from anger, to confusion, then to surprise.

“If you believe there is another woman out there that I would rather press my lips against, you’re crazy.” She whispers.

You stare into Bada’s eyes, completely taken aback by the sudden turn of events before your eyes slip downwards, to where her lips are.

Bada does the same, although she takes it a step further, bringing her thumb up to press onto your bottom lip, watching the plush skin accommodate for the pressure she applies.

“I want you,” she mutters inches away from your lips. “I’ve wanted you from the moment I met you.”

As if an invisible string had been snapped, both you and Bada surge forward, placing your lips against each other with unrestrained passion. Bada’s right hand grabs onto the side of your face, tilting your head backward as you two move in synch, completely lost in the taste of each other. She pulls you in even closer to the point that your chests knock against each other with every labored breath, the desire between you two so strong that you can’t help but moan.

Bada hears the sound and feels a pulse go straight to her cunt, the build-up to this simple kiss being so long that she can’t help but revel in it. She bites down on your lip and the second you part your lips to gasp, she slips her tongue into your mouth.

Your teeth clash in a heated dance, your tongues caressing each others as Bada turns you around so your back is toward the direction of your bed, walking you backward quickly so that you fall onto it, your body laid out on the cushion like a fallen angel. She follows you onto the bed, keeping herself above you with a single hand as she continues to kiss you deeply, a small string of saliva falling from your lips because of your sloppiness.

Bada’s other hand busies itself by grabbing onto your exposed thigh and hiking it against her hip, pushing her thigh between the gap of yours. Finally she pulls away, both of you panting loudly into the open air of the room. “Fuck.” Bada curses. “I’ve been wanting to do that for so long.”

Your arms wrap around her shoulders, wanting to kiss her again because of her confession.

“I bet you’ve wanted to too, huh?” She smirks, leaning down to just barely graze her lips against yours, not quite giving you what you want. “That’s why you got so jealous when you thought I kissed Raong, right?”

You huff at Bada’s words, hearing that woman’s name you frustrates you.

“Oh, are you mad?” She taunts you, laughing. “Yeah, you’re really mad aren’t you?” The hand that’d been stationed on your thigh moves under the fabric of your dress and inwards, towards your hot and sticky pussy. “You’re mad because you imagined me touching her like this, didn’t you?” Her fingers ghost against the material of your underwear, already finding a wet patch forming at the bottom of it.

Bada smirks widely. She’s got you right where she wants you.

“Did you imagine me touching her through her panties?” Bada’s fingers move up and down the wet patch, making it grow with every passing second.

You bite your lip, trying hard to suppress your moans at the feeling of your finacée’s long fingers touching you where you need her most.

“Did you imagine me playing with her pussy and making her moan like a whore?” Bada nudges her nose with yours, enjoying every second of your withering composure. “Huh? Are you going to say something?”

You shake your head, wanting to deny the fact that you indeed had imagined all those things in your blind fit of jealousy, which only made you spiral further.

“No?” Bada whispers in a higher-pitched voice, trying to mimic you.

You don’t respond.

“Say something.” She demands, her voice dropping and her eyes narrowing into a glare. It lacks any real hatred or heat but does burn with sexual desire. “Say something or I’ll leave you here wet and panting bitch in heat.”

You finally release your lip, completely believing that she’d leave you like this. “No, please,” you whimper quietly.

“Ah, she speaks.” Bada smiles, continuing to circle your clit with her fingers, now applying more pressure. “Now tell me, did you imagine any of those things I described to you?”

Again you grow quiet, embarrassment flooding your veins.

Bada’s smile drops in an instant. “What did I say?” She withdraws her hand from your clit, moving it back toward your thigh.

“Wait–” you cry out, looking completely in anguish. “I did! I did!”

Bada hums in approval, placing her fingers against your underwear again. “Which one?”

“I–” The words die on your tongue, the small pressure that Bada’s applying to you making your sensitive body go haywire.

“Which one?” She says again firmly.

“The–the last one!”

“Oh baby,” Bada pouts mockingly, “that’s not good enough. Tell me exactly which one.”

“I imagined you playing with her pussy.” You admit, feeling more shame in that moment than you ever had before.

“Good job, babe.” She praises you. “You finally got the words out. Should I give you a reward?”

“Yes, please,” you practically beg.

“Well since you asked so nicely,” Bada looks at you through hooded eyes, smirking. She pulls away the material of your panties and inserts her finger, your hot, wet walls sucking her in compliantly.

"Bada!" You all but scream, your legs jerking in pleasure.

"You're so wet," Your finacée whispers, hearing the sheer amount of slickness your body produces. "Is this all for me?"

"All for you, Bada." You immediately reply, tears beginning to build in your eyes.

"Good." Pumping her finger agonizingly slow, Bada flips the fabric of your dress up so she can watch your pussy open and close, beating against her finger in a fast rhythm.

"Bada–" You whine, closing your eyes and trying to move against her long, firm finger. "Touch me more, please."

"Yeah? You want more?" Bada says, continuing her slow pace.

"Yes." You cry.

"But do you think you deserve it?" She asks, glancing between your wrecked pussy to your face, which is beautifully expressive.

“I don’t kn–” you hesitate, “yes, I do.”

“I don’t know.” Bada cocks her head to the side, staring at you deeply. “You spoke to me very rudely just moments before.” She makes a thoughtful expression before looking down at you again. “I think you should apologize.”

“I’m sorry–” you begin, but she cuts you off immediately.

“You should apologize for wearing this dress to the ball.” Bada insists. “For looking so fucking sexy and letting everyone eye fuck you while I had to stand there and watch.”

“I’m s–”

“Apologize for making me think you and Hyo were fooling around behind my back.”

At this point you’re so far gone and dizzy, you don’t even fully register what she’s saying, only that you’re desperate for her to touch you more.

“I’m sorry for everything, Bada.” You say through heaving breaths.

Your fiancée gives you a satisfied smile. “I accept your apology, baby.”

Wasting no more time, Bada dives in with an almost inhumane speed, placing her mouth against you, and letting her tongue part your pussy lips as she drives it straight into you. She's rewarded with another loud, pornographic moan as she begins to slurp your juices up, volatile sounds coming from her mouth, and your slick pussy.

Bada’s nose presses against your clit in a dreadfully delicious way, stimulating it and making your legs shake around her head.

“Bada!” You chant her name like a prayer, feeling insane amounts of pleasure you never thought you’d experience in your lifetime.

She mumbles something back, the words lost against the skin of your pussy as she moves her tongue in and out of you faster, adjusting her grip around your thighs so she presses even more of your weight onto her.

Bada pulls away with a heaving breath, her chest rising and falling at a concerning speed. But she doesn't stop, she never does, and before you know it she's diving back in, licking and sucking on your pearly-shaped clit, giving you dizzying pleasure.

She flicks her tongue a few more times, dragging her lips and pressing them firmly down until she's driving her tongue back into your pussy, and moving her tongue around your walls, sucking up all the wetness you produce.

And there's tons of it—some of it is dripping down Bada’s chin in a nasty combination with her spit, the murky substance stickily beading down until it drops onto her clavicle.

"Oh fuck," you moan, your head being thrown back with your mounting pleasure. Although it felt like she’d just started, you already feel an orgasm building in the depths of your stomach. "I think I'm gonna cum!"

Briefly popping off your pussy, Bada's raspy voice speaks up. "Do it. Drench me baby, fucking cream all over my face."

Your world goes white for a long moment, your fiancée’s chants egging you on, telling you to just let the pleasure consume you. So you let it happen, you let your pussy throb and release its slick all over Bada’s face.

Quiteness follows your orgasm, but the buzzing in your ears doesn't leave you alone, nor does your bride-to-be.

“Oh baby,” Bada’s head backs away from your body, the lower half of her face absolutely drenched in your cum. She licks her lips, savoring every droplet of your essence, “you taste like a fucking dream.”

“Bada.” You whine, her words making your pussy go hot again. “Don’t say things like that.”

“What? You don’t want me to tell you how pretty your pussy is?” She leans over your face again, wiping your cum off her face with her fingers and licking it after. “Don’t want me to tell you that I could die a happy woman between your legs?”

You wrap your legs around Bada’s waist, pulling her in closer so you can give her a kiss. She lets you, thankfully, and on her tongue you can taste yourself, which makes you moan.

When she pulls away she’s wearing a much more tender look, like your kiss had brought her back from a trance. “I’m not done with you yet.” She whispers, bringing her hands down to grope your tits through the fabric of your dress.

Although it’s late and you’re already tired, you still nod at her, slipping into a submissive state yet again.

Bada smiles at you before completely getting off of the bed, making you stare up at the ceiling in confusion. You prop yourself up on your elbows to see what she’s doing, and what you see is nothing short of heavenly.

Bada’s stripped herself of her tie, her customized suit jacket, and is now only in a white dress shirt–but not for long. She chucks off the wrinkled shirt, revealing the black sports bra she was wearing under, and… a pair of muscled arms and abs?

You shouldn’t be surprised, really. Naturally, as the leader of a mafia group, she’s required to stay relatively lean and strong, yet every divot and curve of her muscles makes you want to jump her bones even more.

Bada doesn’t even realize you’re staring, she’s much too busy taking off her pants, now only in her sports bra and her boxers, with something else in her hand. She looks up then, finding you practically gaping at her, making her smirk.

“Already have you star-struck and I haven’t even started yet.” She chuckles, taking the thing in her hand and placing it closer to the ground so she can step through it.

It’s then your eyes focus in on it, realizing that–oh.

A long, girthy black strap sits across Bada’s pelvis. Your eyes widen, your heart racing a the monstrous length and girth of her strap, as well as the texture and ridges on it. You weren't just going to be fucked, you were going to be absolutely destroyed.

“When did you–” your voice dies out, completely lost for words.

“I made a stop to my bedroom before coming here,” Bada answers easily. “Call it wishful thinking, but I felt I’d need it.” She grabs a bottle of lube from the pocket of her dress pants, about to apply some to her cock when she sees movement out of her peripheral and stops.

Absolutely mesmerized, you crawl over to Bada, the material of your dress slightly pulled up so she can trace the curve of your plump ass.

Reaching out an excited hand, you grasp the base of her cock, and open your lips wide before placing them on the mushroom head of her strap.

Immediately Bada drops the lube, her head dropping down in awe to watch you lick and suck on her cock, her jaw falling open. "Fuck." She grabs your head softly, helping you move up and down, her eyes rolling shut. For a second Bada feels like the strap attached to her really is her cock, and that she can feel your plump lips move against it, bringing her unbridled pleasure.

Your slobber drips all the way down her strap and wets her grey boxers, the material turning a damp shade darker. Bada pulls you down her cock gently, trying to avoid gagging you too harshly, but she can't deny the jolt in her cunt when she hears you struggle to take the inches, a slight choking sound murmuring against the black plastic.

"You like that, don’t you?" Bada finally gathers her bearings enough to speak again.

Your eyes glisten with tears as you nod, moving off of her cock to gasp out a breath. "Please, can't wait any longer."

"Okay, baby." Bada nods, giving into your wants easily and moving on top of you again. "I’m going to make you feel so good, honey." Taking her slick cock, she gently guides it to your pussy. "Open wide."

You immediately comply and spread your legs as wide as you can, watching with parted and panting breaths how your fiancée finally nudges the head of her cock into your pussy.

Slick and wide, her cock splits your pussy open only with its mushroom head inserted, making you let out a debauched and loud moan, the sound reverberating against the walls and filling every pore in the room.

"Shit." Bada curses, feeling herself come to a stop with how hard you're clenching down on her strap. "You've gotta relax, pretty. You're very tight."

Huffing, you attempt to relax your muscles, and slowly but surely, she’s able to nudge in another inch or two before you start clenching down hard again. Her thumb comes up to your clit and rubs it gently, making your eyes close and another moan slip from your lips.

"C'mon babe, take a nice deep breath in and relax." Bada guides you, rubbing your clit with slightly more force, and at a faster speed.

"Okay." You choke out, taking in a long and shaky breath.

She feels you loosen a bit, and again she takes the chance to slide her cock further inside you, and she's finally able to slip it all in. She breathes out a long, drawn-out curse when all she's able to see of the black plastic is the small sliver of the base.

"There you go." Bada pulls her hand up to your thighs, squishing their flesh in her grip and rubbing soothing circles into them.

Your pussy clenches at your finacée’s raspy praise, a strangled whine leaving your lips. "Bada—"

"Shhh," Bada moves forward, even able to push slightly more of the strap into you as she reaches over to give you a sweet kiss, shushing your loud cries. "I've got you. Promised I was gonna make you feel good, remember?"

"Mhmm." You hum, your eyes sparkling.

"I'm not going to let my wife down." Bada keeps to her promise and begins moving, her strap slowly pulling out of your wet pussy, then firmly coming back in and making your back arch.

"Holy shit." You awe, your mouth falling open. She hadn't even started yet. Bada then begins to pick up her pace slowly, pulling and pushing through your pussy's walls, the base of her strap slapping against your lower lips and making loud sounds fill the room.

"Damn it," Bada curses, her eyes drinking in the sight of you. Plump lips parted open, eyebrows furrowed in pleasure, your dress falling so that your tits are spilling out and bouncing in kind with her harsh thrusts.

Leaning forward, Bada takes a nipple into her mouth, her unoccupied hand grabbing and caressing the other, her eyes falling closed at the feeling of your tit in her mouth. Fuck, if she knew she could have had you like this long ago, she wouldn’t have waited so long.

But in a weird way, the wait made it even more satisfying, made the sounds of your pornographic moans even more sweet to Bada’s ears.

"Bada!" There's not a single thought in your mind anymore, the space being occupied by the woman who is thrusting into your pussy at a dizzying speed, and covering your tits in her spit. The woman who swore she would never fall in love with you. The woman who’d risked her life to save you from kidnappers. Your fiancée.

Bada's mouth leaves your nipple with an obscene pop, the flesh around it slightly bruised a darker color from her sucking. "Does that feel good baby?"

"It feels so good." You almost scream, your eyes now opening to see Bada’s frantic thrusts, and how sweat is starting to form on the arches of her brows. "You're so good."

Bada closes her eyes, your words going straight to her cunt. "It's about to get a whole lot better." She leans forward again, this time grabbing your legs and folding them up, then pushing them as far as they can into your chest, giving her uninhibited access to your pussy.

You're seeing stars, you're sure of it. Bada's cock is lodged so deep in you, you swear you feel her in your stomach, your eyes widening to the size of saucers. She pounds into you at an incomparable speed, wet, sloshy sounds squirting from your pussy, making a beautiful melody with your moans, and Bada’s low groans.

A ring of cream begins to form around the base of her strap, the milky white substance catching her attention and making her teeth grit painfully against each other. "Are you close?"

"Yes, yes! Don't—don't stop!" You cry out, your bedroom ceiling moving in your vision with every thrust of her strap.

Bada's breath catches, feeling the stimulation of her strap rubbing and pushing against her cunt build up into an orgasm. "Fuck, me too." She dips down to give you a purely tongue kiss before pulling away, panting. "Cum. Fucking cum, honey. Cum all over me."

And you do. Your mind goes blank and you let out your loudest, most obscene moan and cum on Bada's cock.

She follows close behind, letting out a low and drawn-out groan, cumming in her boxers.

Your body becomes liquid against your sheets, the only sound in the now quiet room being your staggered breath, and your fiancée’s panting.

Kissing your ankle, Bada gently unfolds your legs, making sure to be careful as she lays them back against her bedsheets and slowly pulls some of her strap out of you. You wince a bit and let out a choked whine, which she quickly silences with a sweet kiss and mumbled praises.

"It's alright, honey. You're good, you're with me." Eventually, Bada's able to fully usher her cock out of your still-tight walls and take off her harness, throwing her strap into some random, unimportant corner of the room. "Great job. You were so good, my love."

"Bada." You croak without thought.

"Yeah, honey?" Bada coos, caressing your cheek with her rough thumb.

"I'm tired."

“I know, sweet girl.” She mumbles, placing her forehead against your own. “Catch your breath, okay? I’ll clean you up. You don’t have to do anything.” Staying there for only a few more seconds, Bada sits up and walks to your bathroom, grabbing a towel and running it under some water before returning to you. She gently parts your legs, shushing any hisses of pain that leave your lips as she cleans you up, and helps you out of your tight dress.

Once you’re rid of your clothing, she moves to sit next to you.

“How are you feeling now?” She asks, staring down at you with nothing but love in her eyes.

“Sore.” You admit.

“Already?” Bada looks down at your legs, frowning. “Here,” She places her large hand on your thigh, slowly kneading your flesh in soothing circles, making you let out small, blissful sighs. “Does this help?”

“Yes.” You nod, smiling at her before closing your eyes. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, honey.” A comfortable silence settles into the air between you two before your finacée breaks it. “About before,” she suddenly begins, her voice low and remorseful. “I’m sorry for what I did.”

You stare at her quietly, then speak up. “Why did you do it?”

Bada looks down at your body and sighs. “I wanted you to understand how I felt.”

“What do you mean?”

She shifts her gaze to your eyes. “I’ve been jealous of you and Hyo for days now.”

“Hyo?” You say incredulously. “Wait, is this about her taking me home? Because she only did that to stop me from seeing you and that woman kiss.”

“It’s not just because of that.” Bada shakes her head. “You two have gotten very close recently, and I didn’t know how to feel about it.” She closes her eyes, reaching deep within her to find the right words. “I guess I felt envious because she can spend all her day with you, while I’m constrained to my limited free time to see you.”

Slowly, the wheels in your cogs start to turn, and suddenly everything makes sense. “Bada, Hyo is like an older sister to me.” You tell her. “I don’t see her in that way.”

Your fiancée opens her eyes, staring at you with a mildly surprised look. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” You nod.

“Oh, I see.” Bada moves her hands to your other thigh, starting to massage it. “I don’t see Raong in any romantic light either, by the way. I’ve been trying to get her off my back for years.”

“Well, clearly she doesn’t understand.” You huff.

The action is so cute, Bada can’t help but laugh. “Believe me, she understands now.” When you give her a confused look, she elaborates. “When she tried to kiss me, I told her I had a fiancée.”

Bada’s words make you smile shyly, butterflies dancing in your tummy.

“And…” She trails off, a soft smile also finding her lips. “I told her that I’m in love with my fiancée, and I would never so much as think about devoting myself to anyone other than her.”

The l word that falls from Bada’s lips makes your eyes grow impossibly wide, and your lips part in astonishment. She watches it all, never shifting her expression away from being loving.

“Bada…” you trail off, tears in your eyes. “I love you too.”

Gazing into the other’s eyes, you meet halfway in a sweet kiss, one that seals your love, and commitment to each other.

“You are my everything,” Bada mumbles against your lips. “I will always succumb to you.”

taglist:

@aericrys, @somerandomtinyperson, @bluebada, @dallaji, @luvjanexx, @hyejuwu, @diana-rose-25, @jjlovesbada, @cephox, @prilux, @youknow1234, @fae-the-wanderer, @mightymyo, @aein-tings

(if your name is crossed out i wasn't able to to tag you)

want to join the taglist? send me a message or comment saying you'd like to be on it, and i'll add you!

#bada lee x reader #bada lee x reader smut #bada x reader #bada lee #bada lee smut #bada #street woman fighter 2 x reader #swf2 x reader

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theminecraftbee · 2 months

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so, first, accountability statement: I plan on trying to finish the “zedaph steals a baby” fic by the end of the month and god is that one-line summary no longer accurate but we’re sticking to it, said here publicly so now I have to do it. obviously I also have recursive exchange and the writing I have for hotguy comics zine, but I am not SUPER worried about either of those time/inspiration-wise at the moment and also for Reasons I know it won’t be long until I have more free writing time after that, SO.

various items that are on my potential writing docket, I am curious which of these appeal most:

I dust off the supervillain support group au. two ways this could go: I chip away at the second arc of my original outline and acknowledge this will be like a 300k fic I’m not ready to feel “done” with or “ready to post” with for ages, or I re-work it into something a little more doable and less ambitious keeping the same premise (ren runs a support group for supervillains, doc pov as he starts to heal and redeem himself). this MAY honestly be a target for “if I don’t hate the first 50k on re-reading it and I can actually make my brain write the second arc, do a slower release schedule and then start releasing chapters before I’m done writing”? but this ALSO runs the risk of “I stopped writing it, which is often a sign I was having trouble writing it”.

pearl monster au, which has been cooking in my head for a long while. the basic premise is “one day, pearl, with no memory of how or why this happened, wakes up in a facility as a monster and must try to figure out how she got there, escape, and find her way home, even knowing she may be irrevocably changed”. now with bonus season 10 fish flavor to add to this creature design I’ve been iterating on in my head for forever! this one is ALSO an experiment for me in “can I write a fic where I can’t write dialogue for basically the entire first act”, which would be interesting to see from me, you know?

the related “bigb folklore au”, where after secret life bigb is woken up by Cat and Dog by the tracks of the King Snake, which bigb can recognize as the railroad track, and decides to journey down the railroad to see if he can figure out what the fuck is going on. I need to do video review of life series bigb for this one. this is my excuse to get Weird and Metaphorical and also assign everyone to various animals for no reason, along with using some very specific aesthetic I have wanted to use for some worldbuilding but hadn’t gotten around to yet in any of my stuff. man walks through the desert with animal, confronts train that might be the watchers, might be death, and might just be a train. also, realizes that “confront” is the operative word there and has to deal with that. you know how it is.

““office au””, in air quotes because it’s not REALLY what anyone going to an office au is looking for so much as an excuse to write weird horror. iskall, normal-ish software developer man in a boring office job who does game jams in his free time, goes to work one day to work in his boring downtown office on a payment system for a client. and then things, uh, Take A Turn. this would be a LITTLE me going “what if I wrote an au with a guy who works in tech but like, the boring side of tech I’m in. like, banks and consulting and manufacturing and shit. where you sit in meetings all day and tweak java 8 code even though that language is ten years out of date. but THEN. something exciting happens in the worst way possible.” I’m doing to iskall what I did to mumbo stuffed bird is what I’m saying. it’d be fun.

DO ANY OF THESE PARTICULARLY INTEREST ANYONE. your input will be valued. like 50% chance i get hit with a strong bolt of inspiration then IGNORE that input but it’ll be valued all the same,

#note that me telling you about these ideas is ALSO accountability #on account of both ‘anyone can make whatever based on my things forever’ meaning one of you could make one now #and on account of people will start asking me about them on rare occasion now lol

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freelancearsonist · 19 days

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when the sun came up, you were looking at me

➔ Din Djarin x gn!Reader - 2.4k

➔ A bounty on your head and a bad ship wreck are just a few of the circumstances that have you questioning if you and Mando will ever be out of the woods.

➔ Rated PG-13 for curse words that are probably not canon in star wars, reader is generally able-bodied but otherwise is completely a blank slate, mando is probably ooc but we’re all a little delusional here, lots of blood, i don’t actually know how concussions work and we’re taking some broad liberties with injuries here.

➔ this is another submission to @beskarandblasters's Taylor Swift Drabble Challenge! (if you're reading this kel ily <3) this fic is non-linear so pls bare with me - the timeline will make more sense at the end!

You keep your head down and walk quickly, ignoring the frantic heartbeat of city noise surrounding you as your legs carry you down a dim street.

This is the last place you want to be right now. Even with your cloak’s hood drawn up around your head, you feel too exposed.

The apothecary is a very little hole-in-the-wall type place; you walk past it twice before you finally locate it. The facade looks like it’s about to crumble, and the single window is caked in a thick layer of dust. It looks like it’s been abandoned for decades, rotting with the telltale signs of neglect.

The storekeeper inside looks even worse. She’s a decrepit little woman, squat and skinny, white hair brittle and tangled. Just looking at her makes you want to slowly back away and apologize; say you have the wrong building and run away as quickly as you can.

This is the only shot you have, though; the only place that won’t immediately call the authorities when you step through the door. If you get picked up, everything is fucked.

With a deep breath, you swallow your nerves and summon Din to mind. You think of his easy, authoritative tone and you try to emulate the confidence that modulator always used to convey.

You hear the crash before it happens.

It’s unlike any sound you’ve ever heard before. A high pitched whistle in combination with the deep, metallic scrape of mechanisms working overtime.

And then you feel it. It shakes the very earth you stand on, sends tremors and shockwaves up your legs all the way to the crown of your head. Even after the ground has stopped trembling, your fingertips tingle with the sensation.

You grab a blaster and you run.

You know before you even find it that it’s Din’s ship. There’s a churning, nauseous wrench in your gut and you just know.

There’s so many thoughts swirling through your mind that it doesn’t feel like you’re thinking at all. Your body simply moves on autopilot, like you’re watching a holovid. You traipse bravely into debris and ruin, locating the crumpled remains of the cockpit.

All that beskar is a damned curse, because he blends right in amongst the crumpled and twisted metal of what used to be a functional ship. Stolen, sure, but functional all the same–and the only one either of you had.

But you push aside your anger, because he isn’t responding. You’re calling his name and shaking his chest and he’s just laying there. Not joking about you smudging his armor, not breathing a little heavier at the sound of his name on your tongue like he always does. He just lays there, limp and unresponsive, and you’ve never been more terrified in your life.

There’s smoke and everything feels hot, but it doesn’t matter, nothing matters, adrenaline surges through your veins and you start dragging him. More than two hundred pounds of bulky man and armor but it doesn’t matter because if he dies like this you’ll never fucking forgive him, never fucking forgive yourself.

You drag him out of the wreckage and dump him unceremoniously on the grass, and then you get really scared. He hasn’t made a single noise, hasn’t even tried to help you with his weight.

You thump a little harder than you should on his chest, desperation outweighing any logical train of thought. “Din, wake the fuck up!”

It’s the slightest of movements–just a barely discernible turn of his helmeted head–but it’s enough.

“Where are you hurt?” You beg, plead, cry. “You have to tell me where you’re hurt, I can help, but you have to tell me.”

His neck is just the littlest bit exposed, but it’s enough. You see scarlet red rivers tracing paths down corded muscle, and it makes your gut clench so hard you almost get sick right then and there.

“You have to take it off,” you whisper–your hand comes to rest at the side of his helmet, the only thing between living and dying at this point. “You have to take it off, Din, I can’t do it for you.”

His fingers twitch indecisively at his sides, and you realize with a gut-wrenching pang of fear that he might not be strong enough to do it himself.

Or, even worse: that he might rather die than show you his face.

As soon as you’re back out the door, your body tremors with a sudden wave of previously repressed anxiety. You want to break out in tears, but you can’t yet. If there’s ever a time you have to be strong, it’s now.

You tuck the bag of supplies underneath your cloak and draw the fabric tightly around your torso as you walk back down the street the way you came.

You don’t think the storekeeper alerted anyone who shouldn’t know about your presence here, but you walk as quickly as you can anyway. It’s better to be safe than sorry.

The ship is old and barely functional, but it’s the best you could scrape up on short notice. It works well enough for these little in-system supply runs, even if it does shake a little more than is comfortable when you take off and land.

After what happened to Din, you swore you would never fly again. That promise went pretty short-lived.

“You’re late. Again.”

You’re used to the deep, gravelly tone of his modulated voice by now, but that doesn’t stop the shiver that works its way down your spine.

“I’m sorry,” you say, as meek as you can sound. You set a bundle of herbs and vegetables down on the counter, hoping the offering will appease him at least a little bit. “I found a garden and–”

“And you shouldn’t be going that far alone.” His voice is firm, there’s no room for negotiation.

“Din, I–”

“Don’t. Argue.” And there’s just something about that authoritative tone that makes your traitorous heart seize in a way it shouldn’t. “You are in danger. I brought you here to protect you but I can’t if you keep running away.”

“I wasn’t ‘running away’, I just wanted to be helpful.”

But he’s not budging–not on this one. “You can’t be helpful if you’re captured or killed.”

He stands towering next to you, so solid and imposing. He sets his hands on his hips and you hate the disapproval radiating from him. More specifically, you hate that you’ve disappointed him.

Your voice sounds small, meek–you hate it. “I didn’t do it, Din.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that you’re a galactic fugitive with a bounty on your head.”

He’s not wrong, but it makes the hairs on the back of your neck prickle defensively anyway.

“You said we were safe here. You said we could lay low here until my name is cleared and no one would find me.”

“If you follow my orders,” he adds firmly. “You’re reckless and it’s going to get you killed.”

“I’m restless!” You correct, throwing your hands up in the air. “I hate being fucking… cooped up! I want to go out, and I want to do things, and I want to be able to take care of you the way you take care of me!”

There’s a heavy moment of silence so thick you could cut it with a knife. You know as soon as the words are out of your mouth that you’ve said too much, but you don’t know how to backtrack now.

“I can take care of both of us.” His voice is so much softer and gentler, you almost think you’ve misheard him. Surely you have, because it’s only been a few weeks since he rescued you from certain death–since he decided the price of the bounty on your head wasn’t more valuable than your innocence–and he’s been a stoic enigma the whole time. Always quiet, always imposing. You’ve never been able to get a good read of what’s going on behind that visor, so you’ve always assumed there wasn’t much.

Maybe you were wrong. You so desperately want to be wrong.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, stepping a little closer. Approaching him like a wounded animal, terrified of scaring him off. “I’ll be more careful.”

And you hear it–the hitch in his breath through the modulator at your proximity. You’re closer than you’ve ever been before by choice, and he knows it.

“Good.”

He turns on his heel and retreats into the back room of the little cottage you’ve commandeered and fixed into somewhere livable, and you can do nothing but slump in defeat.

He barely gets the helmet over his ears before he passes out, but it’s enough. Your hands catch the heavy beskar before it can slide back down over his face and you pull it the rest of the way off to toss it safely out of the way.

You’ve seen little peeks of his skin before–mostly his hands when he tugs off those heavy leather gloves–and you know right away he’s too pale. His face is completely drained for color, and again you feel that uncomfortably sharp twist in your gut. But you tell it to fuck off and your hands spring into action, desperately trying to find what’s wrong.

There’s a small yet jagged piece of metal sticking out of his neck, right under where the helmet's protection ends but above where the neck of his shirt would normally sit. Just the smallest strip of exposed skin, but it’s enough. Luck wasn’t on his side today.

You have to pull it out to get a better idea of just how deep it is, but your fingers are so slick with his blood that you can’t get a good grip on it. That’s when the frustration kicks in and your eyes well with tears; your blurry vision only makes you more frustrated, until you’re helpless and sobbing into his stomach.

But you feel it–the slow, unsteady rise and fall of his chest. He’s fighting, but he needs your help. You need to get it together because you’re the only chance he has.

You take a deep, unsteady breath and wipe the blood from your hands–and then you reach for that jagged piece of metal again.

You have to sit in the cockpit of your rusty, scavenged ship for a moment to catch your breath after you land safely and in one piece. You’re not even scared of crashing, you’re scared of dying and leaving Din alone. Din, who believed you when you said you didn’t commit the murder you were charged with. Din, who took you to the safety of this mostly uninhabited planet and assured you that no one would find you. Din, who swore that he would protect you.

Din, who has yet to wake up since he fainted lifelessly in your arms.

The metal wasn’t imbedded that deep, thank the Maker. He lost a fair amount of blood over it, but not so much that he couldn’t recover, and it didn’t knick anything too important that you couldn’t stitch back up even with your unskilled hands.

It’s the concussion that worries you. You’re certain it’s not the first he’s had, but it’s definitely got to be the most severe. His skull must’ve bounced around in that damned helmet like a stray pinball. You’re able to take a small amount of comfort from the way his pupils retract when you lift his eyelids, at least, but that comfort wanes with each passing day that he doesn’t wake up.

This is your third time returning from that shady little apothecary on the next planet over, but it’s the first time his eyes have been open when you come through the door.

And for one horrible, gut-turning moment, you think he’s dead. He stares so blankly at the ceiling that you want to fall to the floor and die yourself.

But he hears you approaching, and his eyes flicker over to you. Those deep, chocolatey brown eyes that you’ve come to crave meet yours for the very first time and you start to sob with relief.

You push his back firmly against the mattress when he tries to get up, and you shake your head when his lips part around unspoken words. You just need to cry right now, so he lets you.

Everything comes up all at once–days of panic and fear, days of never knowing if you would ever hear the sound of his voice again, days of tears that you haven’t cried because you haven’t allowed yourself to. It all comes to a boiling point and spills over the edge of the pot, and poor Din just lays there and lets you cry into his chest because there’s nothing else he can do.

It takes longer than you wish it did for you to regain some composure, and when you finally pull away you’re feeling a little more than self-conscious about the very apparent display of emotion.

He must sense it, and even though his face is unreadable, he catches your hand before you can retreat too far.

“H-helmet?” He croaks, throat dry with misuse.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I’ll go get it. I… I didn’t see your face, as far as this is concerned. You’re safe with me.”

But he doesn’t let go of your hand when you step to retrieve the helmet–if anything, he squeezes it tighter.

“S’okay,” he whispers hoarsely. “K-kinda… feels ni-ice.”

And it makes your heart flutter in a way it shouldn’t. That not only is he letting you see his handsome face, but he might even be enjoying it.

“I’m so glad you’re awake,” you murmur as you start to remove the bandage from his neck. It’s healed down to a thin line now–the bacta’s run its course, and it’s faded to a simple scar. It could be years old if you didn’t know better. “I… I was so scared.”

“M’sorry.”

And you laugh, because it’s so ridiculous that he feels the need to apologize. It’s so ridiculous that he could think you’re upset at him for getting hurt when all you feel is pure, unadulterated relief.

He takes a deep breath and catches your hand again. “Saved me.”

“You saved me, too,” you murmur–before you can think about it, you ghost your lips in a feather-light kiss over his knuckles.

His eyes flutter shut from that minimal amount of contact, but it’s enough. He’s okay, you’re okay, and it’s enough.

➔ beta: @shakespeareanwannabe; dividers: @saradika-graphics

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#the mandalorian #mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin fanfiction #mando fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #star wars #star wars fanfiction #cece writes

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irb-pascalito-99 · 2 months

Text

Text you Later

Pairing: Joel x f!reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Summary: Joel calls while at work for some lunch time shenanigans.

Warnings: phone sex, masturbation, pictures, dirty talk, praise, semi public sex

A/N: This is an excerpt from chapter twelve of my ongoing fic Always an Angel, Never a God to read more visit A03.

I try to ignore the buzz of my phone in my back pocket as I carry my end of the armoire. Bill huffs when I adjust the piece of furniture in my arms. Once we’re in position we put the legs down carefully.

I automatically pull out my phone to check my texts once my hands are free. A smile spreads across my face when I see it’s Joel again.

Joel: Meet up for lunch?

I bite my lip and look up at Bill who has continued to walk around the store adjusting other items. I lean my hip against the armoire as I type out my reply.

Me: Can’t :( leaving early today for Ellie’s appointment

Frank appears over my shoulder as I press send. I jump as he attempts to glance at the screen.

“Who you texting?” He asks with a sly smile. I shove the phone back in my pocket. I shrug in response and walk toward the front counter. “A man?”

“No Frank,” I lie. “It was just Maria asking if we could hang out tonight.”

The look on his face says he clearly doesn’t believe me. I ignore the next buzz from my phone, and the one that comes immediately after.

“Okay then…” Frank says. “Well I just wanted to see if you wanted this desk we just got in. I know you mentioned wanting to get something Ellie can use in that room.”

Ellie and I agreed to change our parents’ room to an art space the two of us can use. We’ve already packed all the stuff that remains there in boxes. Joel helped put them in the attic for safekeeping. Tomorrow everyone is coming over to help move the furniture out and paint the walls

I follow Frank to the back of the store where we keep the inventory before we put it out. While his back is turned to me I quickly pull out my phone to respond to Joel.

Joel: But I miss you…

Joel: Can we call at least?

Me: Give me like 15 minutes ;)

I throw my phone back in my pocket as Frank stops in front of an old writer’s desk. I run my hand along the cherry stained wood. It’s in great condition, probably worth a decent amount of money.

There’s a lot of drawers as well. I open a couple, they seem decently deep so Ellie could probably store a decent amount of supplies in it. She’s been getting really into sketching lately so a place where she could sit and draw would be really nice.

“How much do you want for it?” I ask.

“Don’t worry about it,” I turn to Frank as he waves his hand. I give him a frustrated look, while I appreciate his generosity it doesn’t feel right to constantly like Frank and Bill take care of me. I don’t want to be their charity case, but Frank won’t hear it. “Think of it as me supporting local artists. You can pay us back with a painting or have Ellie draw something.”

“I’m sure Bill would love whatever she draws of him,” I joke. Frank laughs. I run my hand over the wood again. It would really mean a lot for Ellie to have her own dedicated space in the room.

I let out an exasperated sigh. Frank grins as I concede. He pulls a SOLD sign out of his back pocket and puts it on top of the desk.

“I’ll have Bill load it up when we come over tomorrow.” He says.

He wraps an arm around me while we walk back up front. I feel my phone buzz again. Frank must hear the sound of the vibration because he looks at me amusedly.

“Maria again?” I shrug and walk around the counter to keep myself busy until I can find an excuse to go somewhere private and talk to Joel. “Girl can’t seem to get enough today, you’ve been glued to that phone all morning.”

“It’s probably that contractor guy,” Bill grumbles from across the room. I snap my head to him, trying to keep the blush off my cheeks. “The one she’s all goo-goo eyes for.”

So much for not blushing. I try to hide my burning face from view of Bill and Frank. I feel like a child caught crushing on the popular boy at school.

“Ahh yeah, Joel right?” Frank says. He turns back to me. “Is he coming to help tomorrow?”

“Joel? I think so. I know Maria said Tommy’s coming to help out with the muscle so I’d imagine Joel would be there too.” I try to act casual, but my voice comes out slightly higher than normal.

“Hmm, yeah we know that one has some muscle,” Frank says. I blush even more, just barely managing to stop myself from dropping my jaw at Frank’s comment.

“Sounds like you’re the one with the crush, Frank.” Frank laughs.

“Just making an observation,” he chides. “I think you could use a man like that…”

“Stop,” I beg. I hide my face in my hands. Frank laughs. Bill walks over to help a customer who just walked in while Frank pats me on the shoulder. “I’m taking a break.”

Frank shakes his head, still laughing. I walk toward the back of the shop. I take one more look over my shoulder before I disappear into the backroom.

I make my way to the bathroom and pull out my phone. I lean against the bathroom wall as I call Joel. He answers almost immediately.

“Someone’s needy today,” I joke. I make sure to keep my voice down so anyone who is outside of the bathroom door can’t hear.

“Babygirl, you have no idea.” I shudder at his nickname for me. His voice is deep with a sultry thickness pouring out like molasses. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Haven’t seen you all week, it’s killing me.”

“I know,” I respond. I half whisper into the phone. “I’m sorry, I miss you too. It’s just been crazy with work and Ellie. Getting Ellie caught up with classes has been rough. Turns out I’m really bad at math…”

“Darlin’ why are you whisperin’?” Joel asks.

“I’m in the bathroom at the shop. I don’t want Bill and Frank to hear me, they’ve already been making jokes about me crushing on you. I don't need them to hear anything else.” Joel laughs on the other end. “Stop that, it’s not funny!”

“Sorry sweetheart, but it kinda is.” I roll my eyes. “So you’re crushing on me huh?”

“Shut up,” I grumble. Joel laughs again and then the line goes silent.

“So…what are you wearing?”

“Oh, so it’s one of those phone calls. You’re really over there making fun of me while you’re waiting for me to help you get off?” I tease.

“Well I was going to pick you up and fuck you on a back road in my truck somewhere, but someone couldn’t get away from work.” I whimper at the thought.

It has been getting increasingly harder to sneak around these days. I’ve had to put so much focus on Ellie in order to prove to Marlene that things are solid with us. Joel has been extremely understanding, and my relationship with Ellie has never been better, but it’s been frustrating not to have alone time with him.

“You like that huh? Want to ride my cock in the front seat of my car, naughty girl.” I feel my pussy start to drip at his words. Fuck, I need him. “Go on, tell me what you’re wearing princess.”

“I can send you a picture…” I say. I smile when I hear Joel groan.

I position myself in front of the mirror and adjust my clothes a bit. I pull my neckline down a bit to show off more of my breasts. I turn to the side slightly so he can see the curve of my ass and then hook my thumb in the top of my jeans and pull them down just enough that he can see the top of my lacy black panties.

I take a couple pictures until I get one that I really like and send it over to him. I hear him moan when I pull the phone back to my ear, and then the sound of his belt clinking as he undoes it.

“Another baby, please. Let me see you.” I go back to the door and crack it open for a second. I don’t see anyone outside so I close it and lock the door.

I walk back to the mirror, setting the phone on the counter for a second, and take off my shirt. I push my jeans off as well and stand in front of the mirror wearing only my bra and underwear. I should be embarrassed doing this in the store bathroom, but a rush if adrenaline pumps through my veins as I position myself in front of the mirror. I nice one hand down, ghosting the lips of my pussy on the outside of my panties. I bite my lip and throw my head back, taking the picture and immediately sending it to Joel.

“Fuckk baby, so pretty for me.” I moan quietly at his praise. “Touch yourself gorgeous. Touch that pretty pussy for me. I want to hear you.”

I lean against the wall again and snake my fingers inside my underwear. I run them through my soaking folds, my underwear drenched as I hear the faint slapping sound of Joel’s fist moving up and down his cock.

“Oh Joel, I’m so wet for you,” I moan, making sure to keep my voice down.

Joel groans and a shiver runs down my spine. I dip two fingers inside my hole, my thumb starting to make circle motions. I whimper into the phone as I start to pump my fingers in and out. I try to match my pace to the sounds of Joel jacking off on the other end of the line. He moans loudly at my noises.

“Tell me what you’re doin’ right now sugar. What’s makin’ you make those sweet little noises?” He starts to pick up his pace, panting into the phone desperately.

“I’m touching myself.” I huff. “I got…got two fingers inside… wish it was your fingers, or your cock. Fuck, Joel wish you were splitting me open right now.”

Joel groans again, the sounds of him pumping himself getting louder.

“God, babygirl fuck. I wish I was there too.” I speed up my fingers, my climax building as he goes on. “Wish it was your pussy clenching around my cock right now instead of my hand. Got me fuckin’ jackin’ off in a goddamn parking lot, that’s what you do to me.”

I moan, a little louder than I probably should have. I move the phone to rest between my face and shoulder so I can cover my mouth as my other hand continues to move underneath my panties. I close my eyes and picture him in his truck outside his job site, thrusting his cock into his hands with his phone to his ear.

“Can anyone see you?” I ask. Joel chuckles darkly at my question.

“I don’t think so, not right now,” he grunts into the phone again. “Why gorgeous? That get you off? You like the idea of me gettin’ caught fuckin’ my fist to the thought of you?”

My stomach tightness and I moan again. I’m so close. So fucking close.

“Yeah, I think it does.” His words send another wave of pleasure through me. I’m right on the edge. “I think you like what you do to me. Think you like how desperate you make me, can’t stop thinkin’ of that pussy all goddamn week. You gettin’ close baby?”

“Yes, god yes, Joel please don’t stop.” Joel groans again.

“That’s it darlin’, I’m almost there too. Come for me babygirl. Come for me.”

I keep pumping my fingers in and out of my pussy until I’m finally pushed over the edge, panting and moaning around my other hand as I try to muffle my noises.

It doesn’t take long for Joel to follow. His groans sound more animal than human as I hear him pump his cock a couple more times and then stop. We both pant into the phone as we come down.

After my heart slows down I walk back to my discarded shirt and jeans on the floor and put them back on. I hear Joel’s belt clink again on the other line as well.

“I’ll be seeing you tomorrow then?” Joel asks as I straighten my shirt in the mirror.

“Yes, but remember it’s going to be a full house so you need to behave,” I remind him. He scoffs at my remark.

“Darlin’ I’m nothing if not a gentleman,” I chuckle at his remark.

“Would a gentleman jack himself off in a parking lot in the middle of the day?” I ask.

“You got me there,” he laughs. “But I’ll do my best to keep my hands to myself tomorrow, no matter how hard it’ll be after not seein’ ya for so long.”

I smile sheepishly, giddy at the thought of him having missed me so much after just a week.

“Thank you, I’ll see you tomorrow okay?” Joel agrees and we say our goodbyes. I wash my hands before heading back out to the front of the shop.

To read more visit A03

#pedro pascal #smut #fanfic #a03 fanfic #a03 writer #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel smut #tlou smut #tlou fanfiction #tlou hbo

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steddieasitgoes · 4 months

Text

@steddiemas Day 31: New Year's Eve Traditions & Activities

We made it to the end!!! Tell me that picture doesn't look like Steve and Eddie's arms!!!

Tags: Established Relationship, Post-Season 4, Canon Divergent, Everybody Lives (obviously), New Year's Eve, New Year's Eve Kiss, New Year's Eve Fluff, Humor

wc: 1480 | Rating: T

Read on ao3 | ao3 collection

“Let me get this straight,” Steve says, resting his forearms on the candy counter of Family Video. After a quick glance around to make sure the store is still empty (it is and has been since their shift started four hours ago), Steve continues. “You won’t be my New Year’s kiss because you have to scarf down 12 grapes in 12 seconds.”

“That’s correct.”

“That makes no sense!”

“Maybe if you stopped whining and actually listened to why, you’d understand” Robin chimes in.

Steve looks up and scowls before flicking her knee that’s dangling off the candy counter. She shouldn’t even be up there in the first place — especially not with her damn shoes on. It’s going to take an extra ten minutes to clean the damn thing now that she’s scuffed it up.

“Fine,” he sighs, turning his attention back to Eddie. “Why do you have to scarf down 12 grapes instead of kissing me, your boyfriend?”

Robin snorts, nearly choking on a piece of licorice. Serves her right, Steve thinks as he wordlessly passes her a cup of water.

“I’m so happy you asked,” Eddie beams as he leans against the counter like Steve. Their forearms brush as Eddie situates himself, elbows pressing into the glass as he nestles his chin in the palm of his hands. “See an old wise tale in my culture says that eating 12 grapes at the 12 strokes of midnight brings good luck in the new year.”

“Do you even believe in luck?”

Eddie hums in consideration, “Not really, no. But I’m not going to tempt fate. Especially when I have too much to lose in the new year if I fuck it up.”

Before Steve has time to ask a follow-up question, his lips are on Eddie’s. Warm and slightly chapped. Tasting like tobacco and an overwhelming serving of cherry thanks to the stupid licorice he’s been devouring with Robin. He barely has time to close his eyes and lean into the kiss before Eddie pulls away with a simper and a cute flush spreading across his cheeks that he tries to hide with a lock of his hair.

“What if I said not kissing me at midnight is bad luck?” Steve tries.

“Well, then I guess I could try to do both.”

“Absolutely not,” Robin says, butting back into the conversation. “I am not calling the paramedics one second into the new year because you two decided to be major dinguses. Just let Eddie eat his grapes and kiss him after.”

“But it’s not the same,” Steve bemoans. He lets his body go slack, chest, and head thunking against the counter with a gentle force that should keep him from bruising. Looking up through his eyelashes, he gives Eddie his best attempt at making his eyes wide and innocent in a way that’ll make him break. “I haven’t had a midnight kiss in years. I just thought this year was going to be different.”

“Join the club,” Robin says, knocking her knee against his outstretched forearm.

“Oh no, trouble in romance land, Birdie?” Eddie asks, completely ignoring Steve’s terrible attempt at guilt-tripping him.

Robin sighs, tipping her head back until it thunks against the wall. The neon Family Video sign shakes under the vibration but thankfully doesn’t fall. That’s a mess Steve doesn’t want to have to clean up.

“I thought when Vickie broke up with her douchebag boyfriend things would fall into place but nothing has happened. There’s only so many hints I can drop before I accept the fact that she’s not into me.”

“But she is into you,” Steve says. If there’s one way to get him out of his own pity party, it's dragging Robin out of her own.

“Yeah well, my last four dateless weekends say otherwise.”

“Maybe you should eat the grapes too,” Eddie says. “Freak says if you eat them under a table it’ll bring good luck in your love life.”

Steve can’t help but snort. “How’s that working out for him?”

“Well, he has a girlfriend up in Maine where his grandparents live so you tell me,” Eddie challenges.

“At this point, I’ll try anything. I can’t go another year without kissing a girl,” Robin whines. “Any other good luck charms I should know about?”

“Argyle said his family wears different color underwear for different types of luck. Red for love, obviously.”

“Red underwear and grapes. Got it.”

Steve sighs, shaking his head. “I guess we’re making a stop at Bradley’s before we head home. Does it matter if they’re red or green grapes?”

“Nope. A grape is a grape. The important thing is eating them fast.”

“Right,” Steve nods as if he understands even though he’s still incredibly skeptical about this whole charade. Kissing Eddie sounds so much better than nearly choking on grapes, but whatever. If it makes Eddie happy, well, he’ll compromise. “Might be good to have the phone nearby then. Just in case we forget how to chew.”

“Wait we? Are you eating grapes too?” Eddie asks, already bouncing on his feet in anticipation.

Okay, yeah, eating a few grapes is worth the look on his face right now.

“Can’t let you and Robin take all the good luck,” he shrugs.

Eddie grins before launching himself at the counter. He practically vaults over the damn thing but his belt gets caught and he goes stumbling into Steve’s arms instead. It’s not the first time they’ve fallen together like this, and it definitely won’t be the last given his clumsiness, but Steve doesn’t mind. Especially not when Eddie pushes himself up and sears a kiss on his waiting lips.

“Promise I’ll make the first kiss of the new year worth the wait.”

🍇 🎆 👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨

As the kids start counting down from 30, Steve scrambles to pass out the giant green grapes he and Robin picked up the day before. The kids are uninterested in the tradition, but Eddie ropes Jonathan and Nancy into his antics. Argyle didn’t need convincing, already eager to cross off as many New Year’s superstitions as he could — which is why he ran around the block with an empty suitcase half an hour ago.

Robin b-lines for the dining room table the minute she has 12 grapes in her palm and it’s only a matter of seconds before Eddie’s tugging Steve after her.

“Eds,” he shouts, nearly spilling his grapes in the process. “What are you doing?”

“Getting us under the table!”

“I thought that’s for good luck in love.”

“It is,” Eddie says, ducking as he squishes in next to Robin.

“But you already have me.”

“Wow, Steve. Someone’s full of themselves,” Robin teases.

“That’s not what I meant!”

“I just want to make sure the universe gives me enough luck to keep you,” Eddie says, bashfully, before giving Steve’s wrist another yank. “Now get under here before you ruin the magic!”

Steve wants to tell Eddie that he doesn’t need some silly superstition to keep him. He’s not going anywhere, not if he can help it. But the kids are really shouting now, already down to five seconds and Steve can see the slight panic in Eddie’s brown eyes so he scrambles under the table instead.

“3! 2! 1! Happy—“

“Eat, eat, eat!” Eddie shouts, drowning out the cheers of the kids in the living room.

Steve shoves the first grape into his mouth and gets to chewing, watching as Eddie shoves at least three and Robin tries her best to work through her own pile of grapes as fast and carefully as she can. It’s a chaotic flurry, especially when one of Eddie’s grapes falls and goes rolling, but Steve saves it without getting out from the table and pops it in Eddie’s mouth for him. He wants to say “for extra good luck” but he’s too busy trying not to choke on his own mouthful of grapes.

Christ, why did they have to be so big and crunchy?

In the end, all three of them manage to successfully eat their grapes before 12:01 hits. To celebrate, Eddie drags Steve back out from under the table. Back on their feet, Eddie dramatically dips him in his arms before giving him the cheesiest kiss they’ve ever shared — loud “mwah” included.

“That’s the big kiss you promised me?” Steve asks, laughing as Eddie pulls him back into a standing position.

“Well, I had other plans but there’s too many witnesses for how I really want to kiss you,” Eddie teases, before leaning in closer. “I’ll show you later.”

Steve smiles as he gets his hands around Eddie. This time he’s the one who pulls him close, bodies flush as he stares into those beautiful brown eyes he hardly even looked at a year ago. “I think this is going to be a good year.”

“’87, baby.”

#steddiemas #stwgdailyprompt #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steddie fan fic #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington ficlet #steve fic #eddie munson #eddie munson ficlet #eddie munson fic #eddie fic #robin buckley #robin buckley fic #stranger things #stranger things fic #dani writes

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actuallysaiyan · 2 months

Note

hiiii,

May I request the valentines day request with vergil sparda x f!reader (dmc5 version) with this prompt [Reader/Character writes their loved one a Secret Admirer’s note and tries to deliver it discreetly. They are caught by their loved one!]

Where reader writes vergil a love poem or a confession and tries to tuck it like under his room door but he happens to be heading towards it and catches her off guard? They are not in a relationship but reader has feelings for vergil and considered the idea of confessing through the letter because she is shy :^ anyways so they encounter and reader quickly retreats shyly to her room where vergil then comes up to her to confess after reading the letter? Could be SFW or NSFW after the last part.

Totally love your writing, feel free to ignore it a shorten it if it's too much.

Love ya, xo.

(Also if u don't mind I want to be anonymous because I'm shy and anxious sorry for that :">)

warnings: smut, love confessions, mentions of crying, Nero's mother is slightly mentioned, cunnilingus/oral sex(fem receiving) word count: 1.1k pairings: Vergil x Fem!Reader summary: you write a sweet love letter to Vergil and are so nervous about him finding it. when he does find it, he's so touched...he shows you his true feelings through actions.

You keep rereading those words on the page. Your hands are shaking. Though you know that you won’t be getting a response right away, even just the thought of sliding this love poem/confession under Vergil’s door was making you so nervous. You had thought about doing it this way for weeks. The eldest Sparda twin had very much caught your attention, and the only way to confess to him perfectly would be to write him a love poem. Sure, you were no William Blake, but you knew he’d appreciate the sentiment regardless. That was…if he felt the same way. If he didn’t feel that way about you, you’d have to quit your job as Dante’s secretary and run very far away from Devil May Cry.

With a deep breath, you get up from your bed. Vergil had been on a mission all morning and well into the afternoon. Coincidentally, that was the time it took you to really get the nerve to even begin writing this letter. It was beginning to eat at you too, especially as you continue to reread it and desperately want to make corrections. But you know it also comes from the heart and that means everything.

So you tiptoe across the floor and open your room door. You peer outside into the hallway, looking for signs of anyone. When you don’t see any flashes of white hair nor do you spot Lady, that’s when you make your move. You grasp the letter and you walk a little further down the hallway, finding Vergil’s room door.

It’s silent save for the beating of your heart and the rushing of blood in your ears. It’s so frightening because you have this sinking suspicion that he’s going to find your letter and he’s going to toss it away. He’ll probably laugh at your sad attempt to write the literary man some kind of pathetic poetry. He won’t even look at you anymore after this, prompting him to ask Dante to kick you out.

You almost lose your nerve again when you crouch down to slide the letter under the door. Just as you’re getting back up, you notice someone is in the hallway with you. As you turn around, you come face-to-face with the man in question. Vergil cocks an eyebrow when his gaze meets yours. Your heart nearly stops as you try to come up with the right thing to say.

“Can I help you with something?” He asks, a ghost of a smirk on his face.

You shake your head, “N-no…”

You scurry away; you feel like you could faint. This was all so intense and you couldn’t believe you actually slid the letter under the door. He was seconds away from reading your confession. Seconds away from reading the contents of your heart. You couldn’t even think straight as you managed to hide yourself in your room.

For a few moments, you dive right under the covers and hide from the world. You try to convince yourself that your blankets will shield you from the rejection that is sure to come from this. And it keeps you safe and hides your tears as you feel them sliding down your cheeks. You were almost certain that Vergil wouldn’t even be the slightest bit interested in you.

Oh but you were so wrong about that. Through time and perseverance, you managed to capture the heart of the eldest Sparda twin. Even the first time he met you, he thought you were the sweetest thing in this world. A ray of sunshine in the darkness that loomed in his heart. He had his eyes on you from the very beginning, something that made his brother tease him to no end. Yet, Dante had swore not to meddle in the love affairs of his twin.

Vergil found your letter immediately as he stepped into his bedroom. He opens it up and reads it, leaning against his now closed door. Tears well up in his eyes as he reads the beautiful poem. You had reached into his chest and stolen his heart. It was almost too much. He wasn't even sure if plain old words could even be considered good enough to tell you how he felt.

After a little while, he decided to just go talk to you. He was beginning to think maybe just being able to be open with one another could help. Vergil knocks on your door, and you’re startled. Was he coming to reject you? You take a deep breath once more and open the door for him. His eyes widen when he takes in the sight of you.

“I…I…” he starts, but can’t even continue.

You gasp as he pushes you into the bedroom, closing the door behind him. His large hands cup your face and he pulls you in for the most passionate kiss you’ve ever felt in your life. It’s soft and sweet, but there’s a lingering hunger in it.

“My love,” he says between heated kisses. “Your words have ignited a fire in my heart.”

You gasp when you feel his large hand enveloping yours and placing it over his heart. You feel the way it races just for you. Then you two meet in another sweet kiss, but the hunger lingers in this one as well. He guides you towards the bed, and within too much fuss, he begins to undress you. It’s slow and passionate, and you don’t feel pressured at all.

He tenderly spreads your legs, watching you through hooded eyes. You’re so beautiful like this. The soft lighting of your room makes you look almost like a painting. He then leans in to kiss your lips once more, making you feel lightheaded and breathless. Your eyes meet his gaze and he smirks as he begins removing his gloves. Then you let out a soft moan as his bare hands massage your thighs.

“May I taste you, beloved?”

Your heart skips a beat, but you manage to squeak out a “yes”. Vergil smirks at you, but it’s a genuine smirk. Then he spreads your legs, lowering himself onto his stomach between them. The smell of you makes him a little dizzy as he leans in to taste you. The moment his tongue touches your folds, he knows he’s done for.

He’s not ready to let you go.

Long languid laps of his tongue from your hole to your clit have you squirming beneath him. His name falls from your lips in soft pants and desperate little mewls. Vergil has never felt more hard in his entire life. This was all new, and yet there was a familiarity to it all. He wonders how he could have ever pulled himself from Nero’s mother if this is what it was to pleasure her.

He manages to push those thoughts away and focus solely on you. Just the sight of you being pleasured was enough to make him grunt against your wet skin. Your whole body feels warm, your eyes are rolled back in your head and your chest heaves as you pant to catch your breath.

“You are mine, my darling. All mine.”

#bacon.writes #vergil x you #devil may cry vergil #dmc vergil #dmc5 vergil #vergil x reader #vergil sparda #devil may cry x you #devil may cry x reader #valentine's day 2024

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suckerforcate · 1 year

Text

Dancing in the Dark

Pairing: Brienne of Tarth x Reader

Word Count: 1419

Warnings: none

Summary: You ask Brienne out for a dance. She doesn't take it very well.

A/n: So now that I've got that draft posted, I can start working on your request @pastanest!!

Yet again you sat on a rock just by the training ground. You were mesmerised by the way Brienne fought the men, by the way she held the sword and made the fighting look like a dance. It was a special dance, one that no one else could dance with such grace, with such beauty. You knew not many thought of Brienne as beautiful, because she didn’t fit the beauty standard of Westeros. She was taller than any woman you had ever laid eyes on, and she didn’t exactly stand for femininity. But that didn’t matter to you. The way you felt about her, it was something you had never felt before with anyone.

As you looked up from the book you were reading to look at her, you found her eyes already on you. She smiled at you, it was a smile most people probably wouldn’t understand as one. But you did, it was reserved just for you. You smiled back at her and suddenly felt enough courage to ask her what you had wanted to ask her for the last week.

You packed your book away and walked over to her.

“Brienne, do you have a moment?“ she looked up at you and put her sword back into her scabbard. You walked a few steps past her and turned around to look at her.

„Come, walk a bit with me.“ she followed you, and quietly you walked to your favourite tree. You had seen it grow since you were little, and slowly it became a big tree, that was a great source of shadow on a hot summer day. You stopped and leaned on the tree.

“How can I help you, my princess?” You smirked at her stubbornness. Whatever you did, she never called you by your name. It annoyed you, yes. But it was cute, so you didn’t mind.

“Your princess,”, you mocked her, “would like to ask you something.” Brienne nodded slightly.

“Have you heard about the dance my father is hosting?”

“Yes, I have heard of it. But I don’t plan to attend it.” You were sad to hear that, but were sure that you could change her mind.

“Why not?”

“I don’t have a partner for it and I know that no one wants me there.” It broke your heart to hear her say something like that.

“Well, I would want you there. Will you go to the dance with me?”

Brienne took a step back and her face suddenly changed from relaxed to pure discomfort. Her posture stiffened, and she looked down at you with shock in her face.

“(Y/n) I really thought you were different. I won’t fall for this, you’re just gonna stand me up.” With that Brienne turned around and left.

“Brienne, wait. I don’t…” she ignored you and honestly you didn't have the energy to follow after her. Your legs were much shorter and it would have taken all your energy.

——————————

It had been three days since you asked Brienne to the dance, the dance which was today. You had decided, much to your sisters despair, that you wouldn’t go. Brienne was the only one you would have gone with. If you went alone, all the princes your dad had invited would try to seduce you, and it would be unbearable. So, you just didn’t go. You stayed in your room the whole day, not wanting to meet your sister. Knowing that she would just try to get you to going to the dance, you could easily do without that conversation.

In the evening after everyone had left for the ball, and you felt that you could wander through the halls without meeting people all the time, you left your room. For about half an hour you just walked around until you sat down in the courtyard. It was a clear night and there were many stars in the sky. They probably formed all sorts of star signs, but that was your brother's speciality not yours. You were better with books and knew a lot about different flowers and their effects.

Suddenly someone sat down next to you, you hadn’t even heard them coming.

“You’re not at the dance, my lady.” You recognised the voice as Brienne’s. She had such a calm and soothing voice, you would recognise it everywhere. Normally it brought you comfort, but now it felt like a stab in the heart.

“No, I’m not.” Your voice was cold. Colder than you had wanted it to be.

“Why not, my lady? I assume there were plenty of suitors for you.” You looked at her and chuckled. But it was not out of amusement but rather out of disbelieve. She really didn’t get it. “Well, the only person I would have gone with said no. So I didn’t feel like going on my own.”

Brienne looked at you for a second, and then she looked into the stars again. Even if you were hurt and even a little pissed at her behaviour you had to admit that she looked beautiful in the moonlight. And the sight of her here, not in armour but simply in her most natural form, reminded you again why you had fallen in love with her.

"I'm sorry, that he did that to you."

"You really don't get it, do you?"

She looked at you, utterly confused.

"I don't think I can follow my lady."

"My god, Brienne. Stop calling me that. I've told you so many times."

You jumped up on your feet and just stared at Brienne for a second, not really knowing what you actually wanted to tell her now. The truth, yes. But she would never believe you.

“Ah, Brienne. I'm sick of this dancing around each other and ignoring each other. I’m very well aware of the fact that you will probably not believe a word of what I’m about to say. But I don’t know how to make you believe. So I’ll just spit it out. I’m in love with you. There, now you know it. This is most definitely not how I wanted to tell you, but I can’t do this anymore. You were the only person I would have attended the ball with and you let me standing under that tree like an idiot because you can’t believe that anyone could ever love you. I understand that you’ve been hurt in your life, many times. But I thought we trusted each other, enough for you to know that I would never joke about you like that. And I could have lived with you not wanting to go with me and ignoring me afterwards, if I knew that you didn’t like me. But you do. I know you do.” Brienne was blushing like an idiot and was quite happy for the darkness around her for covering it up a bit.

“How…”

“Oh come on, I’m not an Idiot. I see the way you look at me, the way you smile when I enter the room and the way your voice softens when you talk to me, the way you visibly relax, when around me.”

Brienne saw a lonely tear fall down your cheek. You had never seen her stand up and rush towards you so fast. She dried the tear and looked at you apologetic.

“I’m sorry I brought you so much hurt and sadness.”

“Oh stop, you have brought me so much more. So much joy, laughter, love and memories. I will always thank you for that. And even if you don’t see it. I see so much beauty in you. To me there is no one like you.”

“But you’re the princess, I’m a female knight, neither am I what people expect a knight to be like nor am I what people expect a lady to be like. No one would accept it.”

“You said it yourself. I’m a princess. I do whatever I want. Now, will you dance with me?”

You laid your arms around her neck and gently put your head on her breast. You melted in to her touch and let her lead you.

She placed a kiss on your hair and whispered something in your ear:

“I love you (Y/n).”

With a smile on your face you danced around the courtyard and didn’t stop until your feet started to hurt because of the heels. But even then you didn’t stop, you just took them off, making you even smaller next to Brienne, and kept on dancing in the dark.

#gwendoline christie x reader #brienne x reader #brienne of tarth #brienne of tarth x reader #gwendoline christie #game of thrones #wlw

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deathmetalunicorn1 · 11 months

Note

Hello! <3

This request will be strange, but can you do the reactions of Jack, Odin and Hades when they find out that a teenage reader comes from a dysfunctional family? Her parents are always fighting, her brother has threatened to kill or hit her since she was little and has even hanged her. He doesn't talk much because he considers it "normal", especially since his parents ignore his brother's behavior.

If it bothers you, don't do it. And thanks in advance for reading this, take care. I hope you are well 💖

-You sniffled softly, trying to hide your tears, clutching your hand to your chest, the white hot pain bringing more and more tears.

-Your parents were useless, they always have been, ignoring you, ignoring your pleas for help as your older brother tortured you.

-He would hit you, pull your hair, slap you around, just because he could, because he knew your parents wouldn’t do a damn thing.

-He would threaten you, if you tried to ask for help, with even worse, and has followed through a few times, the day he tied a rope around your neck and tried to hang you made a shiver run through your body.

-You had always been too scared to ask for help, going to police, as you were afraid they weren’t going to do anything, as you did it once, and told you to not abuse the police for a big brother picking on you, ignoring the welts on your arms from his hits with his belt.

-Today was your breaking point, he wanted to see what the inside of your hand looked like and stabbed you, your shriek caused your parents to yell at you, and when he went to go tell them you just fell, you ran.

-You remember rounding a corner, sprinting, and running into someone, but then everything went black.

-The bed you woke up in was so soft, so warm, you just wanted to lay there for the rest of your life, a soft sigh leaving you.

-A hand on your forehead made you flinch, jerking back as your eyes opened and a soft groan left you as your vision swirled.

-The hand returned, holding a cool rag over your eyes, “Easy now, slowly.”

-You didn’t know the voice but after a few moments, you calmed down and looked up to see a handsome, older looking man, looking down at you in worry.

-He explained that you ran into him, refusing to hear any sort of apology, as he had seen your condition, and when he brought you to his home, he found the other signs of your abuse.

-You were ashamed, not wanting to look at him, before he gave you a smile that seemed like he had a secret, “You’re safe here. Your brother won’t hurt you again.”

-Your eyes widened, “How- how did…” he chuckled softly, “I have my ways. After I patched you up, I followed the blood back to your house and found your brother trashing his room in fury and I saw the knife.”

-It was so strange, being treated so gently, something he was quick to notice as he took care of you, giving you food that you wolfed down, like you were being starved, and ignoring the flinches from his head pats.

-He was furious to learn your parents didn’t do a thing, ignoring you, thinking you were making things up, despite showing obvious signs of abuse, and he grinned, “You can stay here with me, I’ll be your new dad.”

-Your sparkling eyes were the only answer he needed as you agreed.

-He never made you feel like a burden, taking care of you, making sure you were happy and fed, and you had never felt so comfortable before.

-That is, until a knock came to the door, it was the police, your parents, and your brother, claiming (Dad) kidnapped you.

-You hid under your bed, hands over your mouth to stifle your breathing as he let the police in, but not your family.

-The police were concerned, seeing you near a panic attack when (Dad) managed to coax you out from under the bed, seeing the wounds, old wounds, all over you.

-You told the police you weren’t going back to that house, where you brother could abuse you to his heart’s content and your parents ignore you, and if they made you, you were going to run away and never stop running.

-The police called in some paramedics, which freaked your brother out, something your parents didn’t notice, only caring about the staring neighbors now, worried for their reputation.

-After confirming that your wounds were days old, nothing within the past day, except for the stab wound, which was also more than a day old, they all agreed that (Dad) didn’t do anything.

-The police tried to pry, “Why didn’t you go to the police?” you scowled darkly, “I tried- and was told to not abuse the police for my big brother picking on me.”

-Eyes hardened all around the room as they realized you were blown off and forced to endure another two years, since you last called, of torture.

-Your parents tried to demand where you were when the police and paramedics walked out and were promptly shocked when they were placed in cuffs, followed by your brother who almost went feral, demanding to be let go.

-Your parents were stunned at the charges, ranging from child neglect to abuse, while your brother was having attempted murder charges, after you told them about almost being hanged, and getting stabbed.

-(Dad) stood next to the door while you peeked out, glaring at all of them while your parents tried to demand what was going on.

-That’s when they saw you, in a tank top and shorts, showing the bruises, welts, old scars, stab wound, and everything else as you glared, “I’ve been begging for help for years, but you always ignored me and never believed me. Fuck you all.”

-Jack- While disapproving of your language, he let it slide, just this once, you earned it. He lifted a hand to pat the back of your head as they were hauled off, awaiting the investigation of their home once the warrant was obtained, leaving you with Jack after they deemed him safe for you. Jack ushered you back inside, guiding you back to bed, “You’re not allowed to get up for the rest of the day, you went through something very traumatic.” You wanted to pout but he could see your smile as he poked your cheek, making you grin before he went and got some more hot chocolate for you. You melted back into your pillows, sighing gently as you closed your eyes, feeling so content, so safe.

-Odin- He ruffled your hair gently, but said nothing as he stepped forward, stepping in front of you, “You’re first mistakes was harming a child, your second is trying to demand something of a god.” His aura was so intimidating, but to you, you were staring in awe, completely amazed by it, while the cops looked a bit exasperated with his actions. After assuring to let Odin know once it was done, the police went off to search your home, as well as question your family, for any evidence of the abuse. Once they were gone Odin surprised you by picking you up and carrying you back to bed, leaving you with Muninn and Huginn who told you to stay in bed while you stroked down their backs gently, waiting for Odin to come back with some hot tea for the both of you.

-Hades- He looked proud, seeing you stand up for yourself, but even that bit of proudness did little to quell his rage inside, hearing how you’ve been asking for help for years, even from the police, only to be blown off by everyone. Rest assured, he was going to do everything in his power as king of the underworld to find out who responded to you and left you in that hell hole. Hades also demanded to know when the investigation was completed, something he was assured he would be the first to be notified. You disappeared from the doorway and heard you giggling and followed the sound to your room, and he couldn’t help but smile, seeing Cerberus curled up on your bed, taking up all of it, while you were petting him, getting kisses. Hades chuckled softly, coming over to ruffle your hair gently and you couldn’t help but smile, feeling so safe with your new dad.

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror jack the ripper #ror odin #ror hades

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skyward-floored · 7 months

Text

Whumptober Day 8: Outnumbered, (alt) Betrayal

I originally gave up on today’s prompts because they were annoying but after I’d written this whole fic I realized outnumbered kind of works actually so! Regular prompt and an alt were used today ✌️

Read on ao3

Warnings: oh boy. Uh, mildly suggestive, dehumanization sort of..? Kind of human-trafficking vibes, but it doesn’t exactly occur. There’s some alcohol. Also a bit of being drugged. And mistreatment of fairies. ...I think that’s it.

————————————————————

A faint pink glow guided Hyrule, Warriors, and Time’s steps through a town in the captain’s time, a jingling that Hyrule knew was born out of nervousness accompanying the light.

The fairy led them all through the town, further and further away from the center and towards the unlit stores and quiet docks. The night only seemed to grow darker, and Hyrule found himself keeping closer to the other’s sides, a feeling of apprehension he couldn’t ignore making his stomach clench.

Right as he was about to ask if the fairy really knew where she was leading them, she zipped down a side street, sparkles trailing behind her, and finally bobbed to a stop.

Hyrule looked up, and grimaced.

The fairy had led them to a building with its windows still lit despite the late hour, her dark pink light catching on a crude portrait of a great fairy holding an overflowing flagon of ale. Faint laughter filtered through the cracks in the door, and Hyrule thought he caught a whiff of alcohol.

Oh hooray, a tavern.

Hyrule gave the picture on the sign a look of distaste, but before he could say anything, the door abruptly swung open. Two men walked out, and the three heroes, ducked around a corner so as not to be seen. A hiccuping laugh came from the one man, and the other slapped him on the back as they stumbled away, neither walking straight.

“So this is where you saw the men take Proxi?” Warriors whispered as the revelers disappeared from sight. The fairy jingled an affirmative as she poked her head out from his scarf, practically shaking with fear.

“Mm-hm. Th-they put her in a tiny bag, one way too small!” she squeaked, sounding terrified. “And she’s not the only one, they had lots of other fairies! I followed them here, but I couldn’t find anywhere to get inside without being seen, and... and I didn’t want to get caught as well.”

She sniffled, and Warriors gave her a gentle smile from where she’d perched on his shoulder.

“It’s alright, we’ll get her and the others back,” he assured, but the fairy still seemed nervous, her wings fluttering anxiously.

“You should get somewhere safe, if these people want fairies you’ll be in danger here,” Time warned, and the fairy quivered in fear. “We don’t want anyone else getting caught. Who knows what they’re doing in there.”

He glanced at Hyrule as he spoke, and Hyrule sighed, knowing the older hero was wondering if he should stay back or not. Time and Warriors were both aware he had fairy blood, and Hyrule could see why they would be concerned, but he wasn’t going to stay back just because of that.

“They won’t know I have fairy blood, and I’m not planning on telling them,” Hyrule said quietly, and glared back at the sign. “And I’m not sitting this out.”

Time nodded with a sigh, and Hyrule thought he caught a flicker of worry in his eye before he turned back to the fairy.

“What’s your decision, little one?”

“I-I’ll stay hidden with you,” the fairy replied quickly, and Hyrule could tell she wasn’t keen on leaving the three of them. She obviously felt safer around the heroes, and Hyrule couldn’t blame her.

Fairies being kidnapped was never a sign of anything good.

“All right, well, looks like we’re going in,” Warriors sighed, and Time nodded, straightening.

“Looks like it. We may want to split up though, I believe we’ll attract less attention that way,” Time said thoughtfully, rubbing his chin. “Perhaps I can go in, and you two can follow together?”

Hyrule and Warriors nodded. He didn’t really think it mattered much, but if Time thought that was best, then who was he to argue?

Warriors suddenly raised a hand and began to muss his hair up a bit, making it look more scruffy. Hyrule stared as the captain then kicked some dirt off his boots, running it through his hair and making his blond seem more of a sandy color. Then he tucked his scarf inside his bag, and pulled out a cloak instead, nicely made, but in a dark enough weave so as not to attract attention.

“I’m the local hero, Traveler,” he said at Hyrule’s confounded look, “I don’t exactly blend in.”

“Oh! Right,” Hyrule said sheepishly, feeling foolish for not realizing what the captain was doing. He thought he’d... well, he’d honestly had no clue what he was doing.

Time hid a smile as he left their hiding spot and casually strolled into the tavern. A small burst of sound leaked into the alley with the opening of the door, then was silent again.

“You should be fine,” Warriors directed at Hyrule as he made sure their fairy was tucked safely out of sight in his cloak. “I would be shocked if anyone recognized you or Time... but if you have a cloak you might want to put it on.”

Hyrule nodded as the captain finished off his disguising, and pulled his own cloak tight around himself, looking at the tavern with no small trepidation. It didn’t seem like the sort of place he wanted to hang around, especially based on the drunken laughter that occasionally filtered through the cracks in the door.

He’d had very few good experiences in bars, and had a funny feeling this one would be no different.

They waited a few minutes to distance themselves from Time a bit more, and then Warriors walked over to the door, Hyrule following resignedly.

“Well here we go,” he grumbled, and pushed open the door before Warriors could, the captain following him into the noisy place.

Hyrule tensed, half expecting all sorts of horrible things as they entered, but... nothing seemed out of place. There was a strong smell of alcohol, sweat, and water damage from the nearby docks. The seats were mostly filled despite the late hour, and barely a head turned when Warriors and Hyrule walked in. The large woman manning the bar did glance at them, but then went back to wiping her counter, glaring at a man who spilled a few drops of his drink.

It just seemed like... a normal bar.

“Are we sure this is the place?” Hyrule muttered, and Warriors shrugged, looking around.

“If they’re keeping fairies for some reason, they wouldn’t do it in the open,” he murmured back, then plastered a casual smile on his face. “Let’s see what we can find out.”

They shoved their way to a clear table, Warriors easily blending in with the atmosphere. Hyrule followed suit, and they weren’t bothered as they ordered some drinks and sat down. Hyrule spotted Time across the room from them at a different table, but Hyrule knew better then to stare at him too long and attract attention, and he kept his gaze away.

Instead he studied the atmosphere of the tavern, wincing a little whenever the general noisiness upturned for whatever reason. The place wasn’t as rowdy as some places Hyrule had ended up inside, but it certainly wasn’t quiet, and uneasiness was still churning in his stomach.

He wasn’t sure if it was merely worry over the captured fairies, or something else... but something about this place was making the hair on his neck prickle.

“The men at the table next to you,” their fairy friend suddenly spoke up, just loud enough for Warriors and Hyrule to hear, “they’re the ones who took Proxi, I recognize their faces!”

Warriors nodded, and casually looked around the room while Hyrule flicked his eyes over at the men the fairy had indicated. They were a group of four, with varying appearances, but all of them looked shifty to Hyrule, covered in scars with weapons at their hips.

They were discussing something in low voices, and Hyrule casually leaned over, straining his ears.

“...thing bit me,” one man was saying, looking mad as he rubbed his hand. Hyrule could see bandages peeking from under his sleeve. “And it smarts too, this better have been worth it.”

“It will be, she says the buyer pays extra for the blues. It was lucky we found that one earlier,” a thin man said in a calming voice. “Though even just the pinks we’ve got in the back’ll be enough to set us up for life.”

The others seated at the table grinned, and Hyrule glanced at Warriors, looking to see if he’d heard. By the grave expression on his face, it was clear he had.

“I wonder what the buyer does with them anyway,” the first man said as he sipped at his drink. “Who’d want a bunch of fairies?“

Hyrule felt a flicker of indignation.

“Sells ‘em to doctors or something probably, who cares?” another drawled, taking a large draught of his beverage. “‘S long as we get paid.”

“Ah, but have you ever taken a good look at some of them? If they were a bit bigger, I think I’d want a few,” a man with scars all over his arms said. He smirked. “I saw a Great once, and if the little ones are anything like that... well, sign me up.”

The table burst into laughter, and anger rose in Hyrule’s chest as they began arguing about what the most attractive feature they’d seen on a fairy was, growing more and more descriptive— and crude— as they went.

One of them said something particularly lewd, and they roared with drunken laughter, Hyrule’s face growing hot with fury.

He was about to leap to his feet, but Warriors put a hand on his arm, keeping him from getting up. Hyrule nearly threw him off as he heard another one of them laugh again, feeling himself begin to shake with rage.

How dare they?

“Traveler, fighting these men won’t help us figure out what’s going on,” Warriors said in a low voice, and pulled Hyrule back down. “We need to be patient.”

“I’m not going to sit here and let them talk about fairies like— like that,” Hyrule hissed, but Warriors didn’t move. “Captain let me up, don’t you care—”

“It won’t change anything to confront them. They obviously don’t have the fairies with them, and fighting them might wreck any chance we have of getting them back,” Warriors said firmly, something sharp in his voice.

Hyrule finally looked at Warriors’ face, and realized the captain was just as angry as he was, blue eyes cold with rage. Somehow knowing that Warriors was equally outraged by the discussion made his own anger cool a bit, and he stopped trying to pull out of his hold, slumping in his seat.

“Fine. Then what’s the plan?” he asked, hunching his shoulders when the men at the table next to them laughed again.

“I’ll try and get some more information from our... friends, here, while you see if you can get in there,” Warriors explained quietly, tilting his head towards a curtained off doorway. “They said they had the fairies in the back, I’d assume that’s where they meant.”

“I saw them through the window earlier, they definitely went back there,” their fairy peeped from Warriors’ cloak, sounding even more scared.

“Fine. Good luck,” Hyrule murmured, and slipped into the crowd before Warriors could reply.

He made his way over to a shadowy spot next to the door, jostled and bumped nearly the entire way. Squeezing past a particularly large man, Hyrule tucked himself in the corner and waited patiently for an opportunity to slip through the door. He glanced over at Time while he waited, and saw that he was chatting rather amiably with the woman at the bar, an easy-going smile on his face.

Well hopefully he’s doing something useful, Hyrule thought to himself, still angry at the conversation he’d overheard. He knew Warriors was right about not fighting yet, but listening to them discuss fairies like that had lit a rage in him that wouldn’t be going away any time soon.

It’s no wonder fairies tend to hide from Hylians.

A barmaid finally walked past him into the back room, and Hyrule silently followed her past the curtain, finding himself in a dark storage room.

It appeared to be mostly kitchen items, extra food and barrels of what Hyrule assumed was alcohol of some kind. There were no fairies in sight, and Hyrule frowned as the barmaid left, looking around the room. It seemed like every other storage-type room he’d seen of this kind; messy, somewhat dirty, and no sign of anything illegal.

Well... not obvious ones anyway.

Hyrule began combing the room, his heart thudding in his chest. The bad feeling he had was even more intense now, and it made it difficult to focus on finding anything out of the ordinary. He kept having to hide when the barmaid returned multiple times, but he continued to look, aware that the longer he was back here, the more likely it was he’d be caught.

He was nearly on the verge of leaving and seeing if Warriors had had better luck, when suddenly he realized the crates in the corner were stacked oddly, like nobody ever actually wanted what was inside them.

Hyrule quickly went over to the stack, and noticed the faint outline of a door behind the crates, so similar to the wall it was nearly impossible to see unless you knew it was there.

Ah-hah.

Hyrule pushed the crates aside as quietly as possible, wincing at the creaking they made, then carefully turned the knob and slipped inside.

And nearly fell to his knees.

The room had no windows, but it didn’t need them, the inside lit by the countless jars lining the walls, all crammed to the brim with fairies. Several of them had at least three in one jar, a few filled tight with even more, and Hyrule couldn’t do anything but stare at them all in horror for a moment.

Most of the fairies were fluttering around in the jars, some swirling in more panicked circles, but some were lying worryingly still at the bottoms, their glows faint. The distressed magic from all of them was enough to make Hyrule’s head spin, chimes ringing in his ears, and he nearly tripped when he finally stepped forward.

How could someone do this?

“Traveler?”

He turned around at the whisper, and saw Warriors slip inside behind him, looking grim.

“Those men didn’t have anything to say to me, they must have thought I just wanted in on the money. I don’t think... oh. Farore preserve us,” he whispered as he looked around, and Hyrule swallowed.

He felt sick to his stomach all of a sudden, and barely noticed as Warriors stepped fully into the room, looking around in horror. The fairies noticed their presences then, and the chiming in the room grew even louder, frantic and hopeful as they realized who they were.

”Is that Link?”

“No, it’s his friend! Brother!”

“It’s Link and his friend!”

“Brother! Fairy kin!”

“Are you here to get us out?!”

“Brother please save us!”

“Brother!”

“Link!”

“Everybody quiet! Are you trying to bring the enemy in here?!”

At the bossy chime, the other fairies quieted down, and Hyrule looked around for the familiar voice that had spoken. One of the few blue glows in the room caught his eye, and Warriors perked up.

“Proxi!”

“Link!” she said with a happy jingle, and Hyrule smiled as Warriors reached up to gently take the bottle she was trapped in. “You’re here to save us?”

“We are,” Warriors assured, cradling the bottle. Hyrule swallowed back his nausea and joined his side, frowning at the sight. Three other fairies were pressed inside of the bottle with Proxi, and she herself was near the bottom, her blue glow dim.

“...Are you okay?” Hyrule asked in concern, and Proxi hesitated.

“She got hurt when they captured us,” another fairy said quietly.

“You’re hurt?” Warriors said sharply, and Proxi let out a dismissive jingle.

“Oh I’m fine, can you get us out?” Proxi asked a little impatiently, and Warriors sighed, then nodded, tugging at the cork.

It didn’t budge though, and no matter what Warriors did it refused to come out. Hyrule tried then, but he didn’t have any luck either, and they looked at each other in dismay.

They didn’t want to hurt the fairies, so they couldn’t try breaking the glass. Melting it or using anything heavy was out of the question as well, as were most methods Hyrule could think of, but how were they going to free all of the fairies if they couldn’t even open the jars?

“I think they must be magically sealed,” Hyrule said morosely after they’d tried everything they could think of. “There’s no way this cork is this strong without some help.”

“I don’t like what that means for this whole operation,” Warriors murmured, still carefully holding the bottle. “If they have enough resources to get so many magically sealed jars... this might be bigger than we thought.”

Hyrule swallowed, his stomach still unsettled.

“So what do we do?”

“Fetch Time, I suppose,” Warriors sighed. “See if he has any ideas. We need to tell him we found the fairies anyway, and I don’t see us figuring anything out any time soon.”

“He probably has an item or something that just opens bottles,” Hyrule said with a faint smile. “Or a mask.”

Warriors almost smiled back. “I wouldn’t put it past him.”

“Someone’s coming!” a fairy by the door suddenly squealed, her voice shrill with alarm. Warriors carefully set the jar containing Proxi and the other fairies back on the shelf, then dove behind a discarded crate with Hyrule, the both of them ducking down as much as possible as the door slid open.

“...saw someone by the storage room, and those guards were in earlier. We better start shipping out tonight,” a voice said, and footsteps tromped into the room. “...Ugh, this place always makes my head hurt when we’re full.”

Hyrule pressed tighter against Warriors’ side as the voice drew near, trying to make himself smaller. The crate really wasn’t a good hiding spot, but there was nothing else in the room big enough to shelter behind.

Multiple sets of footsteps moved over to their side of the room, right next to the crate they were behind, and Hyrule nearly stopped breathing, forcing himself to stay still. Warriors swallowed, and Hyrule could feel his heart thudding where his head had ended up on his chest.

“Well you won’t have to deal with it much longer,” a different voice drawled, and Hyrule recognized it as one of the men who’d been at the table. “Once we load these in the hold you’ll be fine.”

It was silent for a minute, and Hyrule found himself holding his breath.

“Besides, we have other business to take care of.”

The crate Warriors and Hyrule were tucked behind suddenly lit up like a flare, a pink so dark it was nearly red flashing above them.

Hyrule was nearly blinded by the light, but when he looked up in shock, he saw the fairy that had guided them to the tavern chiming and flashing a deafening alarm, showing exactly where they were hidden.

Before Hyrule could even reach for his sword, he and Warriors were yanked out from behind the crate and restrained, unable to escape. They both kicked out and struggled, Hyrule even trying to bite the men that had grabbed him, but they were grossly outnumbered, and quickly subdued.

Both were tied up and shoved against the wall, but Hyrule only had eyes for the fairy who had come to them in tears earlier because she’d seen Proxi be kidnapped. She was floating right next to one of the men who they’d overheard at the table earlier, and a sickening feeling rolled through Hyrule.

“How could you?” he asked, anger and disbelief warring inside of him. How could a fairy fall so far to betray her own kind like that?

The fairy’s glow dimmed.

“They said they would hurt my sister,” she whimpered, and Hyrule felt a brief stab of pity.

“If you’d told us the truth, we could have helped you,” Warriors cut in with a grave look, and the fairy turned away.

The other fairies on the walls had been chiming frantically throughout all of this, Proxi’s voice shouting the loudest of them all, and making a truly deafening racket that only grew when Hyrule and Warriors were tied up. The men were obviously growing sick of it, and the one with the scarred arms abruptly drew a knife and pressed it to Hyrule’s neck, then looked around at the fairies.

“Shut up now, or he loses his life.”

The fairies went dead quiet.

The scarred man waited a second, then withdrew his dagger, placing it back into a holder at his waist. “Thank you. I would’ve hated to get blood on the floor.”

“Have you no shame?” Warriors snapped. “What you’re doing here is cruel, you can’t put that many fairies in one bottle without endangering their lives!”

The men laughed, and one looked Warriors up and down.

“Great, a knight with morals. Do we kill him?”

“Nah, look at his face, he’s a handsome one,” someone else spoke up. “Bet we could get good money for him downriver.”

Warriors slightly paled, but his cold expression didn’t change.

“What about the kid?”

“I’m not a kid,” Hyrule said, and didn’t flinch from the scarred man’s gaze when he strode up to him. “And you’re going to regret every single thing you’ve done here today.”

The man chuckled. “The only thing I’m going to regret today is that I didn’t make more money then I’m already going to.”

He leaned right up into Hyrule’s face, and the traveler still glared at him despite how his heart was thumping. His eyes trailed across his face, pausing when they got to his eyes, and he studied them in silence for longer then was normal.

“...Take them both. We can figure out what to do with them after we’re on our way,” he said as he leaned back, a deceptively easy-going smile on his face. “I think there’s more to them then meets the eye.”

He looked directly at Hyrule when he spoke, and the traveler’s blood ran cold.

He knows.

Warriors gave him a wide-eyed look, but then cloths were shoved over both of their noses, a sickly smell coming off of them. Hyrule struggled not to breathe, knowing it would be bad if he did, but he hadn’t had a chance to take a deep breath.

Time had better notice we’re gone soon, he thought desperately, watching as Warriors began to slump next to him. Or we’re going to be in serious trouble.

Something struck his chest, and Hyrule gasped in spite of himself, breathing deeply of the sweet smell of the cloth. His head immediately began to swim, and he took in another breath without thinking. A voice said something above him, and Hyrule slumped against Warriors’ side as his senses began to leave him, one last flicker of desperation fighting to keep him awake.

He couldn’t let them do this he... he couldn’t...

Hyrule’s vision swirled into a black void, and he fell limp against Warriors’ shoulder, totally unconscious.

Time was their only hope now.

#this will be continued on another day :]#linkeduniverse #linked universe #lu hyrule #lu warriors #lu time #linked universe fanfic #whumptober #whumptober 2023 #day 8 #alt prompt #betrayal #outnumbered #writing from the floor #I’m picking on Hyrule’s magic/fairy ties again sorry my guy 😔#this is only sort of whump but #well #I got caught up in the story alright I admit it #the next part will definitely have whump though hehe

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love-byers · 2 years

Text

the effect heteronormativity has on how watchers view byler keeps me up at night so i wrote out their story but took out names & instead used "boy" and "girl"

read this and tell me it's not romantic:

boy asks girl to be friends on the first day of kindergarten.

boy has girls artwork all over his walls. boy has a binder full of girls drawings.

girl goes missing in 7th grade and boy does everything in his power to find her.

when girl is found and is recovering in the hospital boy is the only one not sleeping while waiting for her to wake up and when she does wake up he runs to her room and lays his head on her chest.

a year later when girl is struggling with ptsd, boy is always there for her. when she leaves school early to go to the doctor, he stares longingly and sadly at her empty desk. he notices when she's quiet, even though she's always quiet. when she has a flashback on halloween he puts an arm around her and takes her back to his house safely and talks about what she's going through. when she's going through something extremely scary he sleeps on her floor so she won't have to be alone. when she goes back to the hospital, boy sleeps in a chair next to her bed. when girl is possessed and loses her memory, she only remembers her mom and boy. later on, boy starts crying and says asking her to be his friend on the first day of kindergarten is the best thing he's ever done.

when boy gets a girlfriend, girl and boy start having problems for the first time in their relationship. after 6 months, boy and girl get in a fight over boy ruining their friend group by spending all of his time with his girlfriend, and girl leaves his house. boy bikes across town in the rain to her house and bangs on her door screaming apologies and begging her to come out so they can talk.

when girl is packing to move away, she assures boy she won't move on from him and their friend group and he reacts like this:

then boy's girlfriend, who is moving away with girl's family too, says she loves him and kisses him and he reacts like this:

when boy is leaving girls house after she's gone, he looks back at her house sadly and bikes away. he goes home to his mom and this happens:

6 months later when boy goes to visit his girlfriend and girl across the country, boy is awkward to girl and won't hug her, even though it had never been weird for them to hug before. he just pats her on the shoulder.

boy, girl, and boy's girlfriend go to a roller rink where girl feels ignored and like a third wheel. boy's girlfriend gets publicly bullied and runs away. while boy and girl are looking for her boy gets angry at girl for moping, not talking, and rolling her eyes because she "sabotaged the whole day", even though it seemed like he was ignoring her.

their argument goes like this:

girl: well what about us?

boy: *stops walking and turns around* what?

girl: you're mad that i didn't talk to you? you've made it clear you're not interested in anything i have to say

boy: that's just not true.

girl: you called maybe a couple of times, it's been a year. meanwhile [girlfriend] has a book of letters from you.

boy: that's because she's my girlfriend!

girl: and us?

boy: we're friends! we're. friends.

girl: well we used to be best friends!

boy: ...well maybe you should've reached out more, i don't know, but why is this on me? why am i the bad guy?

later on, boy comes in girls room and thanks her for knocking some sense into him because he was being a total self pitying idiot. when he starts to talk about the last few days, girl says she deserved it and boy assures her she didn't deserve anything he did to her. boy says their friends back home are great, but it's not the same without girl. and maybe he was worrying too much about his girlfriend and lost girl. boy says he wants them to go back to being best friends.

also during this trip, boy's girlfriend gets upset with him because he's never said "i love you" to her. he signed all of his letters with "from, boy", and he still doesn't say it even when she's crying and practically begging him to.

boy talks to girl about how he's afraid his girlfriend doesn't need him anymore and feels inferior to her.

girl gives boy a painting she made for him and confesses her love for him, but uses his girlfriends name to cover it up, so boy thinks this is actually his girlfriend's feelings. she says she's afraid of losing him and will always need him, and that he is the heart of their group and everything would fall apart without him.

after this, boy is able to say "i love you" to his girlfriend, but they are distant after it and his girlfriend doesn't talk to him much.

#hmm.....#fuck heteronormativity #byler #will byers #mikewheeler #byler endgame #byler analysis #stranger things #they would be THE stranger things ship #the couple everyone has been dying to see get together since s1 #the slowburn of the century #they would be pam and jim level #i will die on this hil

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jokeringcutio · 1 year

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Could u please do reader x joker 2019?

Reader protects Arthur (before he turned into joker) from when his sign was taken and she beat the kids up and he won’t ever forget that moment. But now,Arthur turned into the joker, he returns the favour by saving her from bad guys?

And when he saves her, he walks elegantly towards her 😫✨ and says “I missed you, doll” 🫣🫣🫣😭✨

Title: Savior Fandom: Joker 2019 Pairing: Arthur Fleck (Joker) x Reader Rating: Mature for safety. Warnings: Violence, (attempted) sexual assault, Crude Language, Clown beating, Blood, Murder. AN: I wrote two versions of this. A sweeter tale, after which I realized the prompt specifically said that the Reader beats those bad boys up – so I rewrote it. Now I really struggled with how the Joker saved the Reader in this. I’ve written several different scenarios, but none of them felt right. In the end, I decided to base it on personal experience and went along with something that happened to me and frightened me a lot while I was in university. And that was passing this certain school and the young men that tried to sometimes sexually assault you there. It never went as far as in this fic, though, thank the lucky stars. But I had to push the situation a bit more to get a more satisfying end to their lives >D

Be warned, the boys in the second part try to attempt to rape the reader (I won’t go as far as clothes being torn off etc, but they do try to drag her into an alley and scold her).

So if any of this triggers you, please, do not read and hold out for the sweeter fill of this prompt that I will be posting later on <3

~ Savior Fill : I Can Handle Myself ~

The boys ran past you with such haste, it was as if a train passed you. You followed them with your eyes, frowning, and inwardly cursed how rude they had been to nearly trample you on their way past you. But you didn’t have long to think angry thoughts, because a man rushed by, clearly in pursuit. A clown, you thought, eyes now wide. A clown with a green wig cap adorned with curly fake hair and ridiculously big shoes. It must make his steps that much harder. How did he manage to keep up, you wondered.

“Hey, stop them!” the clown shouted. But the boys were shouting back profanities and crossed the road. The clown was nearly hit twice by a car as he followed. One glance around you told you that no one had bothered to run after them. Though some people stood and watched, most seemed to ignore the weird scene. You didn’t hesitate a single moment, though, and ran.

It had been hard to cross the road, but once you were on the other side, you came to a halt and your eyes darted from side to side. Where had they gone to? Then you spotted the clown as his feet slipped from the pavement and he caught himself with his hands. He’d nearly fallen but scrambled up to his feet again before he dashed into one of the alleys. He disappeared out of sight, but you had memorized the spot and made your way over to it as swiftly as you could.

At the entrance of the alleyway, you stood still to observe something you had hoped you would never see. Five teenagers stood huddled around the clown. His bright yellow sign lay scattered upon the floor, broken as if smashed against something. The man was quiet but conscious. You could see how he tried to shield his body from the incoming blows. And your mind went haywire.

You didn’t even register how you moved in on the boys, you suddenly just stood behind them. One high kick was enough to hit the first one on his shoulder. The tall teenager turned around, clearly confused, but you gave him little time to retaliate. Instead, he met your fist eye-first, and stumbled backward, nearly tripping over the clown’s shivering frame.

At this point, the others boys had noticed your presence and they stopped their assault on the man. Instead, they turned to you. Eyes all dark and glowering, teeth shown. Like rabid dogs, you thought. But there was no time for thinking now.

You held your arms up in front of your face, hands curled into fists. A little hop to your step as you sprung side to side like you’d seen boxers do on the television.

“How about it, boys?” you whispered. You had wanted to sound cool, but something in your voice broke. It didn’t come out sad though, just a little husky. The boy whom you had dubbed their leader because he was taller and seemed to be the one to take initiative took a step closer to you. His eyes widened at the sight of you.

“Leave the clown alone,” you demanded, then ducked when the anticipated attack struck you right after. The boy’s knee was up to hit your chest, but you had seen it coming and darted out of its way. A fist was launched at your face, but either by sheer luck or good reactional skills, you managed to block it with your arms.

The move seemed to surprise the boy as much as it did you, because he took a second to recover before he tried to hit you again.

The others boys now joined in, the clown forgotten behind them. They inched closer to you with fists raised until a second boy launched himself at you, and all of a sudden, hands and legs were swung in your direction like a flurry.

You didn’t manage to dodge all of the blows, but you made a lucky move when you crouched down to avoid them, then kicked out your leg. Your foot hit an ankle, and one of the boys fell, taking the boy next to him with him by accident. With two down, you sprung up again and hurdled yourself at one of the remaining three. It was one of the smaller ones, an easier target. You tackled him to the floor in a tight hug, then let go of him the moment he lay down. Seated on top of him, you smashed your fist against his cheek, a blow that pushed his head into the dirt and the crumbling asphalt below. Then you moved off of him.

Just in time, it seemed. The two boys who still stood rushed forward to you. In a fit of panic, you reached next to you. The road was littered with garbage that had been torn from the many uncollected garbage bags, and your hand closed around something sharp. What the hell was it?

It didn’t matter. This was your life you were concerned about. With eyes closed, you flung the sharp object away from you, only to hear a gasp come from the boys. Had you hit one of them?

But when you opened your eyes, you saw they were unharmed. But they were gasping at something, eyes raised to the sky. You looked up to see your shot had cut one of the electricity cables that hung above the alley. The cable dangled dangerously above your heads, a crackling sound and sparks erupted from the cut end.

“Come on,” one of the boys then shouted, “Let’s go, let’s go!” The boy still on the ground jumped up to his feet. Blood seeped from a gash on his cheek. He threw you an accusing glare, but made no comment, before he turned away from you and the dangling electricity cable, then ran off.

The other boys followed until you were left alone in the alley. Alone apart from the shivering clown.

You ignored the cable above your head, as you did the shouts of someone in one of the apartments who was cursing that their television had stopped working. Hurriedly, you crawled over to the hunched form of the man, and then slowly bent over him. He kept his hands between his legs. Must have taken a few hard kicks to the balls, you thought. You felt pity for him.

If only you could have chased them off earlier. If only you could have spared him this fate.

“Hey,” you carefully started, your hand on the man’s shoulder. He didn’t shrug your hand away, but he did flinch when you first touched him. But then, as he heard your voice, his eyes opened and he looked up at you. Your heart nearly stopped beating, because the eyes that locked with yours were the brightest green you had ever seen. So pretty. Accentuated by the clown’s makeup and his hair, certainly, but ever so beautiful.

You could have asked him then if he was okay, but that would have been a superfluous question. Of course he wasn’t. He was beaten up, and bruised, his sign shattered. There was nothing you could do to help his bruises, you knew that. But perhaps there was a chance to bring him comfort, to soften those mental wounds he must have received so they wouldn’t scar as badly.

“Let me help you,” you whispered, again. Your hand slid to the man’s white-painted cheek.

He smiled.

You’d nearly forgotten the man you had once saved. The mysterious clown who hadn’t given you his name and hadn’t accepted any offers to help him. It had been as if he was scared of you. The way his shoulders raised when you spoke to him and how he avoided looking into your eyes. You had caught him looking at you though. Whenever you looked away his eyes would be upon you, and there’d be awe within them. As if he couldn’t believe that you were real.

But that was months ago.

When you met him again, you were on your way home. This particular street led you past a community college building, a place where young men often loitered about, hands in their pockets, leering at you when you passed by. You’d gotten used to the whistles and the comments. You thought it was normal until one of your fellow female students pointed out that they never called after her.

Passing this street didn’t always make you feel safe, so when you were particularly tired, you’d go the long way around to the train station. But today, you wanted to take the shortcut. A choice you instantly regretted.

“Oi, pretty girl,” one of the boys wearing a hoodie, hands in his pockets like they usually had, shouted the moment he saw you. He came heading your way, a weird lilt to his step. You instantly knew this wasn’t going to be okay. “Oi, come here,” he said.

Behind him, a friend of his emerged out of the shadows of the building. A crooked smile upon his face and an evil glint in his eyes. “I think you have a little time for us, don’t you?” the boy said.

Two more friends emerged and you quickly scanned the area. Somehow, you were all alone. No other students were behind you, just in front, but they had just rounded the corner and were long gone.

The streets seemed empty as it was already getting late. The setting sun shone over the street tiles, making them shimmer. With hands flexed, you made to turn around, but the first boy managed to corner you.

“Uh-uh, I don’t think so,” he said. You wrinkled your nose in disgust when you saw he had grabbed you by the arm. His grip was tight and unpleasant. You started to feel scared for being surrounded by these young men who clearly wanted a thing from you that you were unwilling to give them. “Here, baby, don’t be difficult. Now, you’re gonna be good to me and my friends?”

You flinched, certain of one thing. You were not going to make this easy for them.

With as much strength as you could muster, you pulled your arm back sharply. An attempt to bring your arm back to your belly, but the boy’s hand remained attached. It hadn’t worked.

With gritted teeth, you flung your knee up to aim at either his chest or his balls. You hoped to hit the latter. But once again the boy was too swift. He used your own arm to block the attack, which hurt darn much. You winced and bit back a cry at the pain you felt. Stupid, you thought. You probably had bruised your own arm.

Another attempt from you to twist out his hands, but the second boy gripped your shoulders from behind and forced your body still. You cursed, loudly. “Let go of me,” you said as loudly as you could. “Let go, or I’ll scream.”

This threat instantly triggered a third boy to cover your lips with his palm. “You try and fight back bitch, and we’ll fuck your cunt into a bloody mess.”

With eyes wide of shock, because how dare they scold and denigrate you like this? You noticed how the four of them started to drag you into the narrow alley next to the building. An alley, you knew, would mean the end of it. Because how many people passed this street? And how many of them would think to look in that alley on their way? Your chances to escape would be zero to none.

No, your mind screamed. No, this can’t be how it goes. This can’t happen to me.

You struggled with all your might, even if it were hardly possible to move within their arms. All it earned you was a hard whack against the head, and a kick against your shin. More bruises, you thought, panicking. You had to get out.

Just before they could pull you into the alley, you had the mind to bite the boy whose arm had circled around your shoulders and who covered your mouth in the hand. He cried out. Then suddenly his hands were gone, and he fell face-first next to you. His head inside the alley. His body was limp.

You looked at him confused. Had your bite done that? But then a second boy, this time to your other side, called out. A high-pitched yell of pain. Arms flailing, he fell down to the ground as well, leaving only the two boys behind your back.

Their hands let go of you, and finally you were able to turn around. There they stood, both boys with their backs turned to you. Their attention all upon a new man who had appeared behind them. A man in a red suit, stylish, if not for the many spots upon it. Had he spilled coffee, you wondered at first. But no, it would have been a lot of coffee. The spatters were too many and too far apart. Then what could it be?

The man stood face down, a cigarette held between his lips and fingers, the tip glowing. You could not see his face, but something about his posture seemed familiar. Like a distant memory was awoken upon the sight of him. You’d seen this man before, but where?

His other hand rested inside his pants pocket, lazily, elbow hooked. Nothing about him indicated what had just been done, so you didn’t notice it at first. Not until he blew a small cloud while the cigarette left his lips, and he finally looked up at you all. You saw the paleness of his face. Not natural, but made by makeup. Familiar, you thought again. But it couldn’t be him, could it? The blue triangles near his eyes. The green tangled hair.

This man was dressed as a clown, you realized. A clown you’d seen pictures of before on the television, and on the wanted posters all around the city. A villain recently sought after by Wayne and the authorities.

The Joker.

No wonder you had thought you recognized him. A man known to be ruthless. Cold needles spread all over your spine and you froze up with fear. You knew you had to go, to escape, to run fast and as far as you could before he ended your life like had the lives of so many others. His reasons were often left unknown. Not just Wayne’s men had been murdered, dozens more.

But then your eyes turned to the two boys on the floor and you realized the clown must have a gun. Red had started to spread, leaking from the chests of the boys down onto the street tiles below. Their clothes were stained with the red liquid that was now rapidly spreading.

They’d been shot.

Then the stains on the clown’s suit weren’t made by coffee at all. They were blood as well.

You looked up again in fear, eyes wide. But the Joker’s gaze was not upon you. It was fixed firmly upon the boys in front of you. His hand rested lazily in the pocket of his red pants. Probably where he is hiding the gun, you mused.

“I think you have something of mine there,” was all Joker needed to say for the boys in front of you to start stumbling backward. What was it? You wondered. What did they have? What had you found yourself entangled in? Their screams echoed throughout the alley as they turned on their heels to run. They made it past you, into the narrow street, but only made it in several paces before one by one, they were shot in the back. Cowardly, you thought, but they oh-so deserved it for what they had tried to do to you.

They fell forward, their bodies slumped. You didn’t know if they were instantly dead, or if their life was slowly slipping away from them. You didn’t care to watch. Instead, you turned your head back to the Clown Prince of Crime, a title given to him by the most ruthless and the most influential of all men in Gotham.

The Joker stood where he had been standing. The only change was his now raised arm, a smoking gun aimed at where the boys once had run. Your heart nearly stopped of fear, and you hardly dared to keep your eyes upon him. Surely, he would shoot you next. Whatever this was, whatever this had been, he would probably assume you were part of the group. Had they stolen something from him? Did he want it back enough to kill them for it? Why should he spare you?

With your eyes averted, nearly closed while you trembled in fear, you heard his steps upon the tiled street. His soles slipped upon the glistening tiles, still wet from the rain earlier today, before the sun had started to peek through the clouds.

You heard how he walked towards you, taking his time, a cigarette in his hand, still burning. Then he brought it to his lips and took a long drag before he exhaled slowly. Little clouds of white swirled up from his lips to disappear into the early summer sky while he tilted your head with one finger, forcing you to lock eyes with his own.

They were the purest green you had ever seen. It was within that instant that you recognized him as the clown whose life you had once saved. Eyes that had once been filled with terror and disbelief, but had been ever so green that they had drawn you in. Eyes that had once looked at you as if he could not believe you were real. The gaze in them was the same. That look that told you he had a hard time believing that you existed.

But why?

This man had once been hunched over, frightened for his life, trembling. But now it was you who was in his place. And something in his gaze softened. You saw the recognition in his eyes and thought he must have spotted yours.

His fingers upon your chin tightened. The way he studied you while he moved your face with his hand, tilting it from side to side as he took you in the sight of you, made something in his eyes change. His gaze became more intense, darker.

Then his head dipped forward and his lips were planted against yours. The taste of bitter smoke and something unique to him invaded your senses. It felt pleasant. Unexpected, but heartwarming. A butterfly rose in your chest and wanted to fly, hot flames licked the insides of your belly. And this man had done all that with just one kiss.

And then he withdrew, but his eyes remained focused upon your lips. As if he was hungry for more, a craving you shared with him. He seemed to be catching his breath, his chest moved rapidly up and down, while his fingers finally slid free from your face so he could place his hands on your hips. You placed your hands on his chest and looked up at him, lips parted in a silent sigh, a quiet invitation for him to kiss your lips again. The Clown Prince of Crime happened to be your very own clown.

“I missed you, doll,” he murmured, voice hoarse and low. He had no idea how much you had missed him. "I think you'd be a lot safer in my arms, don't you?" he hummed, and you didn't think to go against him.

The newspapers reported you missing the very next day.

#Come on #Have your happy ending with the murder clown #he is sweet to you #Arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x you #prompt fill joker 2019 #joker 2019 #bad ass reader #running off with an evil clown #running off with a clown #anon answered #an: you went willingly with him of course

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sesamestreep · 2 months

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30 Day Writing Challenge - Day 9

Write about a heated debate (from this list) ➸ set in the Bakeoff AU AGAIN, because after my last fic, I wanted to write more Milly content and also it’s been a rough few days and I need to be silly and self-indulgent or I shall perish!! Based on an Instagram Reel I sent to @firstelevens the other day and that we’ve been spinning into a kid fic concept ever since. It grew out of control and I don’t know if it technically fits the prompt, but it’s what I got for you nonetheless. Bon appetit I guess???

“Euuuugghhh! Daaaaad!”

“What? What’s the matter?” Foggy asks from his spot in the kitchen. That tone of voice from his daughter is never a good sign, but he’s mostly used to hearing it when he and Matt are being particularly disgusting about how much they love each other. As Matt is still in the shower currently, he knows that can’t be the reason.

“What did you put on this?” Milly asks, holding up a piece of toast accusatorially. If she ends up following in their career footsteps someday, her cross-examinations are going to be brutal.

“Cinnamon and sugar, as requested,” Foggy answers, coming to stand across the counter from her. It’s a long way from the elaborate recipes he used to make with his spare time—which he no longer has—and when he was on Bake-Off, but it’s one of his daughter’s favorite breakfasts despite its simplicity. Well, it normally is. She’s currently staring daggers at him, so it must not be her favorite right now.

Milly shakes her head at him, like he’s a moron or maybe, more accurately, like they’re going to have to send him to a home soon if he keeps this up. “Not cinnamon,” she says, holding the offensive piece of toast out to him.

Before he can take a bite (his original plan, to illustrate that she’s being silly and unnecessarily picky), the smell reaches his nose and it doesn’t take an extremely experienced baker to know that’s not cinnamon. He brings it closer to sniff it again and makes himself cough. To confirm his suspicion, he returns to the cabinet where they store their spices and looks at the jar he used to make Milly’s toast a few minutes ago and, yep, there it is.

“Paprika,” he says. “I made you paprika toast.”

“Paprika and sugar,” Milly says, in that same enjoy your time in the retirement home, old man tone of voice.

“They look similar in the bottle,” Foggy says, rubbing a hand over his face. “Same color, I mean.”

“Do they smell the same?” she asks, innocently.

“Listen, you—”

“And are they spelled the same way?” she asks, thoughtfully. “You know, when you read the bottle before pouring it over my toast? You did read the bottle first, right?”

“Mills, I’m not kidding, if you can spell ‘paprika’ or ‘cinnamon’ for me right now, I will give you twenty dollars out of my wallet,” he says. “Otherwise, I don’t want to hear it!”

“I don’t know—”

“Exactly!”

“I’m eight! What’s your excuse?”

“For one thing, my eight year old daughter won’t stop tricking her babysitter into letting her watch scary movies and then crawling into bed with me in the middle of the night because she can’t sleep,” Foggy says, grabbing the plate from her. “How’s that?”

“Don’t throw it away!” Milly calls.

Foggy pauses. “Baby, you don’t have to eat it. I’ll make you more with actual cinnamon.”

Milly looks at him like he’s grown an extra head. “I know,” she says, slowly. “I just wanted to show Dada what you did.”

“Okay,” Foggy says, rolling his eyes and returning the plate. “Just for that, maybe I won’t make you more toast.”

“Sure, starve me for telling the truth. That’ll go over great with the other trusted adults in my life when I snitch on you.”

“It’ll never hold up in court,” Foggy replies, already putting two more slices of bread into the toaster.

“Besides,” she says, ignoring him and popping a sliced strawberry into her mouth. “I don’t crawl into your bed, I crawl into Dada’s.”

“It’s the same bed,” he explains. “Just because you cuddle with Dada and kick me all night doesn’t make it any less my bed. And what’s up with that, anyway? I have it on good authority that I’m the more cuddly of the two of us. Why don’t you ever snuggle me?”

“You want it too bad,” she says, taking a two-handed drink of her orange juice.

“Devil child,” he mutters. His mother once told him, when he and Matt were first looking into adoption, that your children will act as cosmic comeuppance for all the things you put your poor parents through as a child yourself and he hadn’t believed her. Maybe he just thought that, because Milly didn’t share any DNA with them, that his and Matt’s most exhausting qualities wouldn’t rear their ugly heads in her at all. And, boy, love her as he does, he was wrong on that count.

“Dada would never do this to me,” Milly continues, happily. “And he can’t even see! Makes you think, doesn’t it?”

“About looking into boarding schools?” Foggy asks. “Definitely.”

“Mean!”

“You’re saying you’d miss me?”

“No,” Milly says, crossing her arms. “But I’d miss Dada and my friends and my teachers and Aunt Daisy and—ooh, can I borrow your phone?”

“Why?”

“I want to text Aunt Daisy a picture of the paprika toast.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Come onnnnn,” she whines. “She’ll think it’s funny!”

“That’s exactly why I’m not giving you my phone.”

“You’re no fun,” Milly grumbles, sinking down to rest her chin on the counter dejectedly. Her head immediately pops up again when Matt appears behind her. “Dada! Wait til you see what your husband did!”

Matt stops to press a kiss to the top of her head. “Please don’t say your hair because it feels…uh, chaotic?”

“I haven’t even gone near it this morning,” Foggy says, as he fetches the toast that’s just popped out of the toaster. “That’s all natural.”

“Well, that’s something,” Matt replies, coming into the kitchen. “So, what did you do?”

“He made me cinnamon toast,” Milly interrupts, enthusiastically. “Here, try it!”

As with Foggy, the toast doesn’t even make it to Matt’s mouth before he’s frowning. “That’s…not cinnamon, honey.”

Milly cackles while Foggy glares at her. “I made a small mistake,” Foggy says, over the chorus of his daughter’s laughter.

“What is that? Chili powder?” Matt asks, sniffing delicately.

“Paprika.”

“Oh.”

“And I have been soundly roasted for my error,” Foggy says, mostly in Milly’s direction. “So, I don’t want to hear it from you, okay?”

Matt shrugs. “Okay.”

“Apparently, you would never make such a mistake in your life, because you’re a good dad and I’m some sort of rodeo clown who ended up here by mistake.”

Matt looks at him, very clearly stifling a laugh. “She only thinks that because she’s led a charmed life where I almost never make her breakfast,” he says. “Give it a week, she’ll be begging for you back.”

“You’d just let me eat fruit snacks for breakfast,” Milly says, as Foggy puts her new breakfast down in front of her.

“Yes, and then you wouldn’t have all the nutrients you need to learn new things at school and get smart enough to become the first female president of the United States,” Foggy says. “And then where would we be?”

“There better be a female president before I’m old enough,” Milly says, darkly and with a mouth full of toast.

“Better eat a balanced breakfast just to be safe,” Matt says, pushing off the counter to go find some coffee. “And be nice to your dad.”

“How will that help me become President?”

“People skills,” Matt says.

“Surviving into adulthood,” Foggy says, at the same time.

Milly blows a raspberry at him, but eats the new toast without complaint. Matt’s scouting around for the sugar bowl now and Foggy stops him with a hand on his elbow.

“I already put sugar in it for you,” he says.

Matt smiles. “I don’t care what Milly says. You’re the best rodeo clown a kid could hope for, and a very good husband too.”

“Thanks,” Foggy replies, and allows himself to be pulled in for a kiss. He gets to enjoy that for about ten seconds before Milly makes another disgusted noise behind him. He sighs and pulls back. “What’s wrong with the toast now?”

“Nothing,” Milly exclaims. “It’s you two that are grossing me out!”

“Sorry your dads are in love with each other,” Matt says, with a smile and a faint blush. “You live a tough life.”

“I’m glad you understand,” Milly says, as she shoves an improbably large bite of her toast into her mouth without issue. She’s not even finished chewing when she asks, “Will you walk me to school today, Dada?”

“Why? Are you worried I’ll do that wrong too?” Foggy asks, putting an arm around Matt’s shoulders.

“I’d be happy to, baby,” Matt interjects before Milly can say something smart-alecky back to him. “Go get dressed, okay?”

Mill hops down from her chair happily and practically skips to her room. Matt nudges Foggy’s shoulder with his nose.

“What’s up with you two?” he asks.

“I don’t know. She’s just pushing my buttons.”

“Successfully,” Matt replies.

“Yeah, well,” Foggy shrugs. “I slept half the night with her foot in my face while she cuddled with you. I’m a little cranky, I guess.”

“Feeling left out?” Matt asks, smiling, as he turns to wrap his arms around Foggy’s middle.

“I’m definitely the cuddliest person in this household and I want it acknowledged.”

“I agree,” Matt says, kissing him on the shoulder. “Don’t listen to Milly. She’s a maniac.”

“She takes after you.”

“Not true. I love to cuddle with you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Matt says, leaning in to kiss him again.

“We could make that happen, you know,” Foggy says against his lips. “Drop the kid off at school, cancel our appointments for today, play hooky from our responsibilities, stay in bed all day…”

Matt seems to be thinking it over, tempted. “We couldn’t,” he says, not quite convincingly.

“We could. I know our bosses and, trust me, they’d want us to get laid.”

“I’ve said it before but those guys are weird,” Matt jokes. “They’re honestly too involved in our sex lives.”

“Yeah, it’s an HR nightmare,” Foggy replies, kissing him again.

“You two better not still be kissing when I come back,” Milly hollers from the bathroom, where she’s brushing her teeth (or so Foggy guesses from the sound of running water).

“We definitely will be,” Foggy shouts back, as Matt collapses into his shoulder laughing.

“I’m going to go attempt to get our daughter’s hair fit for public appearance,” Matt says, giving Foggy another quick kiss on the lips.

“And I’m going to text Kate that we’ll be in late this morning.”

Matt pauses. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Foggy consults his watch. “Our first appointment is at 11. I can do plenty to you in that amount of time.”

Matt looks a little startled by that, but not in a bad way. “Kate’s going to know what that text means, you know.”

“That just means there will be someone to share in Milly’s pain over us being disgustingly in love after all these years. Unless that’s your way of saying no?”

“Definitely not. Just warning you that we’ll get a lot of grief for it later.”

“I’ll make it worth your while.”

“You always do,” Matt replies, and Foggy’s definitely not being conceited when he says Matt’s tone sounds downright dreamy.

He heads off to help Milly finish getting ready and Foggy tackles the few dishes in the sink while he waits for another pot of coffee to finish brewing. A few minutes later, Milly appears in the kitchen, dressed and with her hair pulled into a neat bun. Neither of them can do anything particularly fancy with her hair, not least because she won’t sit still long enough for all that, but Matt does a good job for someone who’s never had long hair or siblings. A now presentable Milly pulls her backpack and coat off the hook on the wall and stops by Foggy’s side expectantly.

“What do you need, kiddo?” he asks, as he dries his hands on the towel hanging by the stove.

“Hug goodbye,” she says, lifting her arms towards him and he kneels to capture her in a big hug.

When she finally pulls back, she still looks hesitant, like there’s something she needs to ask him. It once again strikes him as crazy how much she reminds him of Matt sometimes.

“What’s the matter?” Foggy asks, tucking a picturesque loose strand of hair behind her ear. “You feel alright? Is all that paprika I fed you bothering your stomach?”

Milly shakes her head, looking away. “I just wanted to—Dada said that his dad would have made him eat that gross toast because they never wasted food when he was little.”

“Did he?” Foggy asks, already making a mental note to kick Matt’s ass when they’re alone together. “Listen, baby, your Grandpa Jack, he…didn’t have a lot of help when your Dada was young. They had to be really careful with their money and Dada was in the hospital for a while…”

“I know,” Milly says, nodding. “I’m just—thank you for making me new toast, instead.”

Foggy feels a lump in his throat that he struggles to swallow past. “Hey, you don’t have to thank me for that, okay? It’s my job to make your life as good as it possibly can be. Even if I have to make you a hundred pieces of toast every morning.”

“That would be expensive.”

“Still,” Foggy says, firmly. “I’m sorry if what Dada said made you upset.”

Milly scrunches up her face like she’s eating the paprika toast all over again. “He said it like it was funny,” she says, mildly horrified.

“God, okay,” Foggy replies, running a hand over his face. Matt would consider that a charming anecdote about his father. Speaking of people who are going to need a hug from him… “Don’t worry about that. Just have a good day at school, okay?”

“Okay,” Milly says, all concern gone as she hops in place excitedly.

Matt appears around the corner then, pulling on his coat. “Ready?”

“Just gotta get my shoes,” Milly shouts as she zooms off in the direction of the door.

“Alright,” Matt says, as he comes into the kitchen. “I’ll be back in a few.”

“Okay,” Foggy says, as he leans in to kiss him goodbye. “Oh, and maybe no more stories about your dad before school, yeah?”

Matt blinks at him. “What? Why?”

“We’ve talked about how sometimes the anecdotes from your childhood that you think are charming and scrappy are actually alarming to the people who love you now,” Foggy says, gently.

“Yeah…” Matt says, uncertainly, before his expression clears. “Oh. Shit.”

“It’s fine,” Foggy replies, rubbing his back. “I already explained that she can ask for as much food as she wants. Just maybe reinforce that with her on your way to school?”

Matt looks pale and queasy even as he nods. “Right. God, I didn’t—I’m sorry—”

“I know. I’m not mad.”

“And you still want to play hooky from work with me, even though I’m the world’s biggest idiot?”

Foggy kisses him on the forehead. “Of course. You’re still a very cute idiot.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Listen, I told Milly it’s my job to make her life as good as possible, and that’s true, but it’s also my job to do that for you. And right now, the best way to make your life better is to take you back to bed and—”

“Ready!” Milly shouts as she skids around the corner. “Are you guys still kissing?! What about my education?”

“She’s right, you know,” Matt says, pulling back and looking a bit better, though still tremulous. “We’re terrible parents.”

“Maybe I should look into boarding schools, after all,” Foggy jokes, crossing his eyes goofily at Milly over Matt’s shoulder.

“I’m never going to be President at this rate,” Milly laments.

“Alright, let’s get you to school,” Matt says, holding out his hand for her.

Foggy leans down to give Milly a kiss on the top of her head. “Don’t let your dad walk into traffic, okay?”

“I won’t,” Milly says, swinging their joined hands between them. “I promise.”

“That’s my girl. Have a good day, baby cakes.”

“You too, daddy cakes.”

“I’ll be back shortly,” Matt says, smiling at the two of them.

“I’ll be here,” Foggy replies, as suggestively as he can manage. It must work because Milly snarls in disgust.

“If you two start kissing again, I’m taking myself to school,” she says, leveraging her full weight against Matt to drag him towards the door. “Or running off to join the circus. You won’t know which until it’s too late.”

“She gets that from you,” Matt says, tiredly.

“I was going to say I think she gets it from you.”

“Maybe she has a point about us being gross.”

“Oh, well, yeah,” Foggy says, with a wink at Milly, who’s glaring at both of them now. “There was never any debate about that.”

#I have my block button ready for anyone who comes for me about the pet names or terms of endearment herein #I did my best and all of them read right to me #source: I based them on things I call my various niblings or have heard their parents call them #I’m not as confident that Milly’s dialogue is super realistic for a kid but I hang out with a 9 year old all the time #and most of the dialogue is stuff she might say #So who knows???#anyway I love one (1) dumb little family #HWS30days #30 day challenge #homelywenchsociety #mattfoggy #daredevil #matt murdock #foggy nelson #do I need a Milly tag? Is that who I am now?#kid fic #COULD NOT RESIST MAKING IT WEIRD AND SAD RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE THERE SORRY #the gbbo au #gbbo AU #once again no prior knowledge of this universe required!#series: how sweet it is #is it hot? ☑️#is it fresh? ☑️#am I proud to serve it? ☑️#and post

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