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#the delulu begins AGAIN
anonymocha · 1 month
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second part of 1.8 is getting closer which also means 1.9 is getting closer
Kaalaa Baunaa or Voyager garment can i get an amen
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sammydem0n64 · 9 months
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I’m being cursed by Talen thoughts. If only bc. Damn imagine being a teenage boy who, like most hormonal teens, CRAVES intimacy (this is my way of saying horny without being murdered for saying a 17 year old experiences sexual attraction.) and that’s largely your gimmick; that you want a girlfriend and it just so happens the girls you like are Not Very Good People. Yeah and then turns out your dad decides to try and kill you instead of selling you out to the gangs he’s in debt to?
#I thimking abt he abd Whilate’s relationship. like gah damn#Whilate is 100% to blame for how Talen acts. Being a cheating womanizer who pushes the idea that when girls reject Talen they’re#‘playing hard to get’. and generally pushing a lot of misogynistic ideals onto his son#and like. Whilate is literally like the only person Talen has a close relationship with to begin with#(his only other friend at the start is another teenage boy who doesn’t belong to me who is also delulu like him.)#All the other adults in his life don’t really care. bc his mom left and his teachers are cordial but don’t take much interest in him#Whilate has always been Talen’s example so ofc he idolizes him and internalizes his sexist mannerisms (ie being p creepy w/ female peers)#Talen isn’t an extremist in his actions but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t making girls uncomfortable. he didn’t take no for an answer#he just wasn’t like. aggressive with it. no one was scared of rejecting him they just hated his annoying bitchass#and Whilate encouraged it! He encouraged Talen being creepy with his female peers and trying to fight ‘competition’#The only reason Talen gains any other positive adult figures in his life is bc Guo knows his dad sucks and starts talking to him#But. while Whilate does suck. and he does try to kill Talen. he loves him. he adores his son#Hes not a good man he’s not a good father he spends all their money and shifted his son into a creep#But god he loves Talen. he just wanted the best for him. he was just too selfish to give him that though#So... like... him trying to kill Talen was a twisted act of love.#He knew that one of his employers may try to take Talen from him if he didn’t straight up sell him out. he could’ve never seen his son again#And he didn’t want Talen living the life he lived by any means. And since he had no other allies. He decided the best course of action#In order to ‘save’ his son from a life of misery... was to kill him. Take him out peacefully. Make sure no one can exploit him#It’s sick and fucked up but he genuinely believed at least in his weak mental state that this was the only way to help Talen#And he deeply regrets trying such a thing. Obviously. now his son is traumatized#and Talen who absolutely loved his dad and just wanted their life to get better. Is traumatized for life baby!!!#At least he got a girlfriend and a mom though 😼😼😼😼😼
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bananami · 5 months
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A little couple's trivia with Nanami proves that he knows you all too well.
I did use the term wife and she/her pronouns just as a brief cw. The whole thing is just fluff. Nanami is in love with you. That's the whole things.
(I am delulu and in love with this man. Hope this helps us all heal. He is alive and well and no one can convince me otherwise. Also I love including Gojo's dumbass in everything. Also Yuji is a sweetheart and Nanami's son basically.)
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"Please?" You're practically begging your husband, who doesn't seem to be budging.
"No."
"Why not?"
"Yeah Nanamin-"
"Don't call me that." Nanami cuts Gojo off immediately.
"But Yuji calls you that!"
"That's different." He glares at the white haired man like he's trying to eviscerate him with just his eyes. "And I'm not playing some stupid game just to prove how well I know my wife." He tries to pay attention to the paperwork in front of him again, wanting to finish it before 5pm. Because there was no way he was working overtime again today.
"Scared?" Gojo baited him. "Afraid I'm gonna ask you a question that's just too hard?"
"Gojo, there is nothing you could ask me about my wife that I wouldn't be able to answer."
A few of the students sat around watching the two go back and forth, inevitably waiting for Nanami to either get so annoyed that he walked away, or to take the bait. They hoped for the latter.
"Prove it! Or you forfeit your marriage."
"That's not how that works."
"C'mon Nanamin, it's just a game." Yuji gives the blonde sorcerer a sincere smile, hoping to lighten the mood and sway his decision just a bit.
"Don't call him Nanamin, Yuji- OW." Gojo is cut off as Nanami reaches over and smacks him in the head with the papers in his hand.
"Don't tell him what to do." Nanami sighs and rubs at his temple. He looks at the clock, then at you. It's the look in your eyes that gives way to his final decision. "Fine. You have until that clock reads 5, and then I'm taking my wife and we're going home."
Gojo wastes no time. "Who is your wife's favorite person? And think before you say yourself because-"
"Itadori. Next question."
"I'm your favorite person?!" Yuji jumps from his seat, latching his arms around you for a hug. It's obvious from the way that you smile and hug him back that Nanami is probably definitely right. You had a soft spot for the kid since you met him, playfully telling everyone that you and Nanami had basically adopted him since he arrived at Jujutsu High. Nanami would probably never verbalize it, but you could tell he felt the same about the boy.
"Ok, ok. Next question." Gojo thought hard before coming up with it. "How does your wife take her coffee?"
"She doesn't drink coffee."
"Yes she does, I bring her some like every morning."
"And she gives that coffee to me because she doesn't like it."
"You're telling me I've been buying you coffee this entire time?"
"I make her tea every morning when we get to work. You hand her the coffee, we trade cups. I don't understand how you've stared right at us when we do it and you somehow haven't noticed."
"Ok, then what tea does she drink?"
"Earl Grey, three sugars, a little bit of milk at the top. She'll say she's ok with English Breakfast or Lady Earl Grey if they're out of the regular. She's not, she's just being polite. She'll drink half and throw it away when she thinks no one is looking."
Gojo groans, not having as much fun as he thought he was going to at the beginning of all of this. "And I just bet you have a contingency plan for when your wife doesn't get her tea, don't you?"
"Of course I do," he ignores the even louder groan from Gojo, "I walk across the street to the cafe that sells her favorite pastries and I buy her five because I know that she'll want to share with her students and she'll try to split one with me even if I refuse. They have teabags they leave out so long as you're ordering something. Earl Grey, always in stock."
"Adorable." Gojo rolls his eyes.
"You're so smart, Nanamin!" Yuji jumps in. "Let me ask one! What's her favorite color?"
"Yuji, that's too easy."
"Yellow."
"Ohhhh, mine too," Yuji says, "why yellow?"
"Because it's-" Nanami stops mid-sentence and looks at the clock, like it will give him an excuse. Almost. "We don't need to worry about the why, that wasn't the original question."
Gojo perks up, clearly realizing he'd struck a nerve. And he was ready to work it. The red dusting across Nanami's cheeks told him everything he needed to know. "Are you embarrassed, Nanami?"
"Shut up, Gojo."
"Or do you just not know the answer? It's ok if you don't, I guess you just don't know your wife as well as you thought you did."
"If you don't stop talking, I'm going to tell everyone about the one time in high school when you and Geto got caught in the-"
"OK!" Gojo turns back to the students and motions them toward the door. "Time to go! Don't you all have something better to do? Go be little trouble makers somewhere. Go TP Yaga's lawn or something. Get out of here."
He'd ushered everyone out except Yuji, who stayed behind to wait for you and Nanami. The boy shyly looked away as you kissed Nanami's cheek before standing up, stating you just needed to grab your bag before you could leave.
Yuji waited for you to exit the room before he asked. "Is it because of your hair?"
Nanami sighs. "What makes you think that?"
Yuji just shrugs. "She loves you. Answers don't always need a complex reason."
Nanami can't help the smile that graces his face. "You're a smart kid sometimes, you know that?"
"That's why I'm her favorite!" His goofy nature is back in an instant. "Can I come over for dinner again tonight?"
"Of course you can."
"Can I stay over?"
"If you'd like to."
"Can I pick the movie we watch?"
"Don't push your luck."
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ghostfacd · 6 months
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YES I KNOW THAT HE’S MY EX! | TOM BLYTH
pairing. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader
summary. you knew tom was your ex, and that you should probably stay away, but that’s never stopped you before
part 1 | installment of this au (please read for more context!)
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ynuser :)
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user1 im loving the aesthetic
user2 THE BIKINI TOP IS SO CUTE
user3 put them toes awayyyy
rachelzegler i pay attention to things that most people ignore (this isn’t your car.)
➥ user4 PLEASE?? not rachel using yn’s own lyrics on her
➥ user5 IS THIS TOM’S CAR??
user6 i may be delulu but those r tom blyth’s mfing hands.
user7 he has her hair tie on; i repeat, tom blyth literally has yn’s hair tie on
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When Tom had messaged you saying he wanted to talk, no matter how much you knew it was a bad idea, you decided to agree to it anyway.
The breakup had ended pretty badly. Although it was an agreement between you and Tom, that didn’t mean that’s what the both of you truly wanted.
The reason the two of you broke up in the first place was that Tom was talking too much about your future, which wasn’t a bad thing — but it overwhelmed you. You weren’t ready to settle down, not yet, at least. You and Tom had only been dating for a few months, and although it was all sweet and loving, you knew that getting engaged this early was like asking for a disaster to strike.
He was upset. Clearly. He loved you, you loved him, so why was it such an inconvenience for you to agree to take the leap in your relationship? That caused a blown out argument between you two, and by the end of it, you had agreed breaking up was the right thing.
You had a acting and music career to focus on, and Tom had an acting career that was just at the beginning of its success. You felt that it wasn’t right to put a distraction into his life.
“Is this a bad idea?” You ask breathlessly as you pull away from the kiss. You can’t help but stare into Tom’s eyes, which held a language of their own.
“Maybe,” he says, wiping the corner of your mouth. “But who cares?”
Who cares. Right. Well surely, it was a bad idea to meet up with your ex, much less kiss him, and although alarms were baring in your head that you probably shouldn’t—you go in for a second kiss, this time, Tom doesn’t let you go, cradling you close to his body.
“I don’t care if you don’t want to take the next step in our relationship, I’m fine if you’re not ready yet. I just want you, okay?”
And how could any girl possibly reject Tom Blyth when he’s begging so prettily? Certainly not you.
tomblyth and ynuser both posted an instagram story !
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ynsbiggestfan THE GIRLS AND I AFTER SEEING THE STORIES ON INSTA
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user8 IM ACTUALLY DYING BC NO WAY WAS THAT A COINCIDENCE
user9 they’re connected they cant be far away from each other
user10 she’s my Heather 💔💔
➥ user12 fr i wish tom was that inlove w me
user13 so this is why rachel said that wasn’t yn’s car
➥ user14 ITS ALL MAKING SENSE NOW
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sean.kauf photo dumpy
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ynuser pic creds ?? 🤬
➥ sean.kauf 🤓🤓
user15 wait im confused, is she together with tom again or is she with sean..
user16 Ykw i cant even be mad, if i was as hot as yn, i’d have two bfs too!
➥ user17 REAL SHIIT
tomblyth fun fact: the 2nd pic is sean third wheeling after forcing me and yn to speak to each other
➥ user17 TOM CONFIRMED IT IM DEAD
user18 all the yn haters must feel stupid asf rn after accusing yn of being with sean
➥ user19 literally cause all 3 of them are literally close 😭😭 like why would sean date yn, he’s literally friends with tom
user20 if yn isn’t dating sean let me have him omg
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ynuser yes i know that he’s my ex but can’t two people reconnect !!!!!
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user21 this took the cake.
user22 time to cry again bc tom blyth is off the market
user23 she got him wrapped around her finger FR
user24 THE THIRD PIC OF THEM 🥹🥹
user25 THE CAPTION OUUU GIRLY IS BRAVE
tomblyth i only see you as a friend (the biggest lie i’ve ever said)
➥ user26 I CHOKED
➥ user27 THEIR SOCIAL MEDIA MANAGERS ARE CRYING RN
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synthetickitsune · 20 days
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svt + when they see you walking down the aisle a/n: a tiktok i saw sent me down a delulu spiral
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Seungcheol ❧ His world stops and the universe crashes down and the stardust settles in his eyes as he watches you approaching him slowly. It’s just stars. It’s not the lights reflecting in the hint of tears collecting in the corners of his eyes. Love is pain, Seungcheol realizes. His cheeks hurt so much from the effort to keep himself from smiling too widely, too like a lovesick fool that he is. He can’t take his eyes off you, which makes it hard to keep a straight or at least decent face that won’t betray how embarrassingly excited he is for this moment. Then again, maybe that’s good - he thinks when he notices you biting back your own smile. You didn’t want him to see the final look before the actual thing and would it be too inappropriate to tell you how gorgeous you look and kiss you before he gets the blessing? Perhaps, and he wants your wedding to be perfect so he’ll be patient but you’re making it ridiculously hard. He’s already failing to hide how unbelievably in love he is and how impatient he is to put that ring on your finger.
Jeonghan ❧ His lips part and he loses his breath. His racing mind comes to a stop, the time does too. He doesn’t care that he’s showing all the people around his rawest emotions, because he knows nobody is looking at him. They’re all looking at you. They must be. What could be more important than you right now? You coming towards Jeonghan slowly. You, who will be his - who chose him, who accepts him. He swallows the lump in his throat and looks towards his friends for support. Does he deserve this? He wants to have the ring on his finger already. Something, anything to reassure him he’s not dreaming. Maybe he’s not ready. Is he enough? He can’t cheat his way out of this one. What if he tricked you into believing he’s worthy of you? He’d never lie to you, but what if he did this entire time and you fell in love with someone he isn’t? You’re perfect. You’re perfect to him, and you’re perfect with him. He wants to tease you, even here and now, like he always does but he can’t. He gets too bashful when you look at him with this much adoration.
Joshua ❧ Standing straight and awaiting the moment the love of his life will appear and walk down the aisle towards him, towards your shared future, Joshua doesn’t feel nervous at all. It’s fate, it was all predestined from the beginning until now. You will exchange your vows and seal the promises with a kiss. There’s no reason for anxiety, no reason to feel nervous. Yet the moment the music plays and he sees you, he can’t help but swallow thickly and feel a pang of displeasure at the strained way he smiles. He doesn’t want to be nervous, but his hands start to tremble. You’re so beautiful, you’re glowing like the sun. It’s blinding him but he can’t look away. He can’t because he needs to take you in, and he needs to know it’s real and you’re not running away. He knows you won’t. He knows it, but what if? He’s too blessed, something is bound to get ruined - and he prays it won’t be you and him. You’re everything he wants, isn’t it unfair he gets to achieve his dream? You always tell him to be more selfish. Perhaps he should listen to you more and doubt himself less.
Jun ❧ He barely stops himself before he can move towards you, his hands twitch subtly in their longing to hold you. Jun knows he can’t mess this up - you’re supposed to be given away to him, you need to be the one to come to him. That’s the whole point. He knows you love him, feels blessed for it every second of every day. He has no doubt the ceremony will go just as he imagined - better even because it’s real! No one will take you away from him, there’s no evil plot in place. It’s just a ceremony - it will take a while. But he simply wants to hold you already. You must feel so awkward in the unfamiliar clothes you’re wearing. The shoes look uncomfortable too - what if you stumble? Wait. You’re so beautiful. He finally focuses on looking at you and not worrying about you. And suddenly he can’t move. It would be too daring to approach you. Is it really alright to let someone else guide you for the last time before you’re his to protect for a lifetime? He’ll have to take it this time, but never more afterwards. His lips stretch into a proud smile. You’re really his, and it makes him giddy like a child.
Hoshi ❧ He’s breathing slowly and deeply to calm himself, to stay still despite the waiting stretching on forever. He thinks he’ll feel relief when he sees you, but when the moment arrives… Soonyoung laughs, blinking up at the ceiling to stop the tears that flood his eyes from spilling. He does feel relief, but more than that he feels overwhelming joy, gratitude, and pride. He needs to be fast with his little breakdown because he needs a second look. He needs to enjoy the opportunity because it’s only today that he’ll get the chance to experience it. You’re blurry through the unspilled tears but he still sighs a soft woah that makes his best man sigh in exasperation that he ignores completely, desperately wiping away his tears. He’s beaming at you, and he envies you for looking much more composed than he is, with only a slight pink blush adoring your face. He wants to kiss it away. Would that be too improper to do? Yes. So would be screaming for the whole world to hear that you’re marrying him today, so suck it up everyone who isn’t him. Yet that’s what he wants to do the most - right after saying the ‘I do’.
Wonwoo ❧ It feels like the first time he saw you. You wear the same bashful smile, nerves just radiating off you like you can't believe he's waiting for you. Wonwoo remembers that back then he felt the same - in disbelief you'd actually come. He feels no such foolish feelings today as he smiles at you warmly and appreciates how beautiful you look. His chest is filled with pride knowing you chose him, and that the people that matter the most to him will witness the moment that you become his in yet another way. It's not the most important, he tries to think, just a formality. What matters most is that you agreed to spend your life with him, this is just a celebration. Yet with all eyes on you both, it's impossible not to feel pressured. Maybe he lied. He is nervous like he was back then, but now he can look at you and find the promise of a future filled with love in your eyes. He has it all planned out - the peaceful mornings and quiet nights. Bickering about new furniture, sharing chores. Forever suddenly doesn’t sound so scary - it sounds like too short of a time.
Woozi ❧ He needs to look up, but he knows that once he does he'll be damned. He waits for the moment the music starts with dread that has nothing to do with any doubts and everything to do with the fact he feels himself getting emotional. Jihoon refuses to cry. He’ll make an exception for you, as he always does, and he’ll allow his emotions to show but he will not cry. And yet the moment you appear, he almost feels his efforts go to waste. You’re so beautiful, and he’s hit with memories from your first meeting all the way to where you’re now walking towards him. It feels more like the reverse is true - like he’s the one running towards you, towards your embrace that he learned to call home. He takes a deep breath, lets it out in a wistful sigh that gives him enough strength to smile without cracking. It feels too much like he’s showing off. He told you before that he could’ve lived forever and he’d still feel he didn’t do enough to deserve the privileges he can currently enjoy. You most of all. How did he get so lucky? He won’t cry. So why are you looking so blurry…
The8 ❧ Breathe in, breathe out. Slowly, methodically. Minghao is nothing if not a master of self-control. So he doesn’t allow his cautious excitement to be ruined by his rising anxiety. It’s just the expectation of everyone. He’s not performing, but it almost feels like he is, and he feels guilty for putting so much pressure on you too. On the other hand, he feels his chest swell with pride just seeing how many people will witness you and him intertwining your lives together until death do you apart. As much as he wants to appreciate how breathtaking you look, he holds your gaze. You need his support, and he can worship you later too. He smiles without realizing. It finally feels real, and he feels calm. His life is finally clicking in place. He sees nothing but trust in your eyes, and it’s all the reassurance he needs that everything will work out. You trust him to take care of you for the rest of your life, and he knows he can rely on you to do the same. He can’t wait to grow old with you. All those years later, he’ll still tease you for telling him he looks handsome before he could compliment you first.
Mingyu ❧ He knows there’s a bet in place whether he’ll cry or not, but surprisingly for everyone (including himself) Mingyu doesn’t feel anywhere close to tears. What he feels is a sense of accomplishment. He has the love of his life walking down the aisle to where he’s waiting at the altar, both of you looking immaculate - although if he’s honest, he feels like he’ll look like a fool next to you. Like a piece of dirt next to a diamond. Honestly he forgot about the room. He can’t take his eyes off you, but he’s worried he’ll say something embarrassing if he doesn’t look away. The ground is nowhere near interesting enough though, so he bites his tongue and looks up again. You look even more beautiful. He grins at you at least, because he needs you to know that he’s obsessed with you - like you (or anyone in the room) can not see the heart eyes he’s giving you. It’s not his nature to be possessive of you, but something in his chest can’t stand that he’s not the one leading you down the aisle. Showing off his pretty love like that? Boasting who he pulled? Unthinkable. He would’ve cried then.
DK ❧ He is trying to get it together, he swears he is. He told himself he won't cry, he told his friends he won't cry. But damn, is it hard when he hears the music… and it's impossible when he sees you. Seokmin knows you're everything he ever wanted and everything he'll ever need when he sees you and the tears come way too easy. Barely stopping himself before he can ruin his suit by wiping his eyes with his sleeve, he laughs and just keeps looking at you. There’s nothing he can do, he’d just keep crying anyway. He sees how you try to speed up, to be given away to him if just a second sooner, but the person next to you won’t let you, and he chuckles. Just like he always runs to you when you need him, you always do the same for him too. Did he forget that when he cries, you cry as well? He tries to calm down, you can’t both be a mess. He wouldn’t do that to you. Suddenly he wishes it could be just you and him. Would that be not enough? You started calling him your husband a long time ago anyway.
Seungkwan ❧ He's been a mess since morning. He's probably been bottling it up for months though - through the chaos of wedding planning and everyday life, all the way until now. The moment he sees you, the dams just break. He reminds himself to breathe, manages to smile at you, and even watch every step you take through the tears. You are gorgeous. You kept hyping him up for this moment but Seungkwan will need to have a talk with you - how could you fail to mention he'll be overwhelmed by love and adoration the second he lays eyes on you? He wipes off his tears carefully and hopes he still looks presentable. He'd hate to ruin your photos. He doesn't know what to do with himself. Even out of the spotlight, very honored to stand in your shadow, he feels nervous. It feels silly to stand and wait, he can't stop his racing mind that floods with memories of you two. Your loving gaze on him does little to help. Your smile is so bright, and he realizes that despite the tears he's smiling too. He wants to kiss you already. It feels like a waste that he can't, but perhaps he'll talk you into making it up to him later.
Vernon ❧ It's not a big deal. He promised that to you and he promised that to himself. So why is he getting nervous? The crowd is full of familiar and supportive faces, and yet the one who'd chase away his nerves is missing. Tension keeps building up in Vernon's body all the way until the music plays and he sees you lead in to be entrusted to him. That might be a tad dramatic, but it's an interesting part of the ceremony nonetheless and he can't wait to mention it to you and get your opinion on it. Your lives are merging, so why act as if you're being given away, as if you're a burden to be passed around? You could never be a burden to him, which is rare for him but then again you are a miracle. He feels his cheeks burning. All it took was one look at you and suddenly the tension is gone, isn't that crazy? How are you his anyway? You're so beautiful he would've approached you even if you were strangers. Again - you are a miracle. He feels a smile settle on his face and he thinks how you're the only one to make him smile by simply existing. He's in for a good life, that's for sure.
Dino ❧ His chest is filled with pride and his entire life flashes before his eyes in the few moments between the music start and you entering. Chan feels lucky. Not for the first time in his life, but the feeling now is so intense his whole body tingles. He sees you and he sees the rest of his life. He loves you unconditionally, the feeling washes over him just as strongly as when he first realized it. Isn't it foolish that even though you'll exchange your vows in just a few minutes, he wants to propose again? How can he let you know how much he loves you? He knows loving takes time, and he’s excited beyond words to spend the rest of his days loving you. He can’t wait to spend his time with and on you. But what can he do right now? He wipes under his eyes, laughing at himself before standing straight again. He'll be the best man he can be for you, and he’ll start right here. His smile is wobbly, but he hopes you can feel its sincerity. He runs his vows through his head again, but he thinks he'll improvise and add more anyway. You look too beautiful not to promise you the stars - a promise he will keep.
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shooting-love-arrows · 7 months
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𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎'𝐬! 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃 reacts to...cheater! reader
Request made by Anon:
Hi! I just read your post about yan 1950 house husband, it's amazing. Can you write his reaction if reader cheated on him? If you don't feel comfortable with this ask, feel free to ignore this.  Remember to take care of yourself and have a nice day.
Hello to you too, dear Anon,
First of all, I must apologize but your request suddenly disappeared from my inbox! Thankfully, I have the content of your request saved in my google docs so I pasted it above. 
Putting that aside, although this topic is sensitive to some, I am fine with writing about that. 
I appreciate your words. It's very nice of you to think about little ol' me. I wish you a nice day too (even if it's not a daytime)!
Thank you and I hope to hear from you soon!
PAIRING: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 x [CHEATER!] reader (gender not specified/mentioned/implied), your lovers genger isn't specified/mentioned/implied either. Don't be swayed by the curses used to describe them; Tw. cheating/indifelity from the reader, cursing, description of a m*urder, delusion (delulu is the solulu), emotional manipulation, gaslightning; A/N: As a person, I do not support this kind of behavior. This is only a piece of fiction, serving for entertaining purposes only.
𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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Denial. Denial. Denial. At first 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 doesn’t believe it. No, he refuses to do so. You’re the most faithful and perfect partner known to the human kind. Right then, he's desperately holding on to that image. But unfortunately, evidence says otherwise. A simple photo, sent to him by your lover, secretly taken by some photographer is clearly showing you and (that whore) your lover, in some hotel room, in an intimate position. It is clear that day that you have an affair. 
“But what if my darling was forced to do this?”
That question sends him into a spiral of delusion, rage and sorrow. As a defence mechanism, 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 made up a story where suddenly you were a victim in this whole situation. It was definitely your lover who has forced themselves on you. Probably blackmailed or worse, drugged you to have a taste of sweet love and burning passion you share while making love with him. 
“My poor darling…” 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 wailed, clenching his chest like someone was physically ripping away his still beating heart from it. Fat tears ran down his rosy cheeks, smudging his mascara and turning him into a crying mess. “I’ll avenge you, my darling. I won’t forgive what was done to you!”
He doesn’t even blink when he sends your lover into the pits of hell. There’s no hesitation when 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 plans this hideous crime, making sure every detail is taken care of. And so, it begins small, like creating false and disgusting rumors about your lover. Day by day, he patiently destroys your lover's life. Until the day when 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 poisons them through his signature pie and then proceeds to repeatedly stab your lover until no one is able to recognize them in the first place. 
"YOU WENCH!" 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 roared at the person who happened to be your lover. "HOW FUCKING DARE YOU?!" With every word he dove the sharp, kitchen knife deeper and harder into his victim's chest. "DIE!!" 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 yelled for the final time and knife one last time, straight in this whore heart. He was left alone in the empty and messy kitchen, covered in blood, panting and trying to catch his breath. 
In the end, 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 begins to gaslight you. Once again, with the patience of a saint, he began to manipulate you to believe that it was in fact your lover who was using you all this time. You were forced into this vile affair and you are a victim. 
“My innocent darling, you mustn't think about it (them) anymore. I will make everything perfect once again.”
But isn’t it weird how he started wearing clothes that are scarily similar to those worn by your lover? Sniff…sniff…and those perfumes…
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meiieiri · 2 months
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 [gojo satoru]
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synopsis: in every other universe and lifetime he has yet to lead, megumi will always cherish the painfully brief time he felt the warmth of a proper family and would have gladly referred to himself as the son of the strongest.
pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader | song inspo: chemtrails over the country club, scott street | visuals: megumi’s jacket
warnings: angst-ish, canon-compliant violence (mostly caused by our pookie wookie megumi who doesn’t tolerate scumbag bullies), mentions of bullying, and possible (bc i’m delulu) character death. | a/n: i just want megumi to have one last moment with his dad please, gege, i’m on my knees here. also hehe, get the title? ya’ll get it? someone please shove that arctic-haired freak to the NORTH! 🥹
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Nobara Kugisaki is the classic definition of an Instagram girlie with a passion for fashion.
Honestly, she could appropriately appraise clothes without a second glance, and she could differentiate big fashion brands just by the fabric and silhouette alone even without a brand logo.
It happened on a Monday afternoon while she and Yuji were having a quick coffee in the lounge. Yuji is currently playing one of his Nintendo Switch MMORPG games that he bought from the mall last Saturday while Nobara was scrolling through her phone, swiping left as she watches her mutuals’ Instagram stories. The trio is incomplete today since Megumi mentioned he’ll be running some errands with you and Satoru today.
After positively getting envious of Mei Mei’s supposed extravagant shopping trip in Ginza today, Kugisaki promptly mutes any stories from her for a full twenty four hours. Then, as she swipes left yet again, she nearly drops her phone on the ground which would pretty much set her off on a rampage because she just got its LCD screen fixed. But luckily, she holds onto it.
“Fushiguro has an Instagram account?!”
Yuji himself hits pause on the game he’s playing and leans over the table to see what Kugisaki is talking about. No way. Fushiguro? That sulky, couldn’t-be-bothered-to-care-but-I-actually-do-care embodiment of teenage angst having an Instagram handle? What would he even post on there?
Their questions are answered as Fushiguro’s feed pops up, and it’s filled with his pictures, but that’s not the issue. The two dunderheads didn’t seem to mind that in every photo, Megumi looked like a magazine cover boy, what caught their attention is the apparel he’s wearing.
“What the hell?! He’s wearing Arc’teryx?” Kugisaki couldn’t believe it. She zooms in on the candid shot of Megumi in what looks to be a ski resort and an audible gasp escapes her throat. No way. No frigging way. She does a quick image search and sure enough, she is redirected to Arc’teryx’s official website. See? Kugisaki never misses when it comes to fashion.
Yuji’s eyes nearly pop out of their sockets when he sees the price tag. “One thousand five hundred US dollars?!”
“And look at this! He’s literally tagged in Gojo and Y/N-sensei’s stories.”
Sure enough, the first they see is Satoru’s story which has a video of you picking out new clothes from the rack for Megumi to try on in the fitting room. You looked so cute and teeny tiny next to the teenager and Kugisaki giggles at the thought you walking around with two literal giants in the mall, one of them being your ward and the other, your arctic-haired husband of three years.
“There’s another one!” Itadori says excitedly. The next is a story you took, it’s a photo of Megumi and Gojo, their backs turned and their hands fully occupied by shopping bags, seemingly unaware of the camera. In the photo, they’re checking out new sneakers in Onitsuka Tiger’s storefront window. In a flash, Kugisaki switches off her phone, and immediately begins to head out the door. “Hey, where’re you going?”
Nobara knows that particular galleria, it should be in Tokyo Midtown. “Out, maybe I could borrow Gojo-sensei’s or Y/N-sensei’s credit card!”
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“Are you sure you don’t need me to come along?”
Gojo chuckles under his breath. It’s honestly amusing how you won’t normally ask that, given his newfound title as the strongest Jujutsu sorcerer of this generation. A skirmish with a grade two cursed spirit? Pfft. That’s practically child’s play to your white-haired boyfriend. A rogue grade one cursed spirit that turned out to be a special grade? Maybe you’ll sneak some bandages in his bag just in case. Bottom line is you wholeheartedly trust Satoru will always make it out of a mission in one piece.
But here you were seemingly more tense than usual which is incomprehensible because today’s hardly dangerous mission is simple.
Track down the son of Toji Fushiguro.
“I think I got it, babe.” Satoru leans his head in through the rolled down car window to plant a kiss on your forehead. He pats your cheek lovingly, setting off in the direction of the house after taking one last confirmatory look at the address written down in the file sheet. “Well, let’s hope he’s nothing like his dad. Promise you’ll check on me if I don’t come back in an hour?” he teases.
You lightly slap his wrist. Sometimes you wonder how you fell in love with this literal man-child. He’s just so insufferable. Gorgeous in every way but insufferable all the same. “I’m pretty sure a six-year-old boy isn’t gonna try to murder you. If he does, let the record show that I sympathize with him completely.”
“You meanie!”
Sticking his tongue out at you when you blow him a kiss, he disappears into the small street adjacent to the neighborhood’s main road. Coming here, Satoru was uncharacteristically nervous. At the rest stop earlier, you watched the scene tensely from the convenience store window. For once, the obnoxiously loud sorcerer was quiet, hands in his uniform pockets, his cerulean orbs trained on the pavement, his foot kicking the asphalt pebbles on the ground, deep in thought.
To be honest, he had no obligation to make the journey here even if this entire affair was born from Toji Fushiguro’s final words that sounded almost like a desperate plea. “In two or three years, my kid will be sold off to the Zenin clan. Do whatever you will with that.” Satoru doesn’t know why — he’s not exactly the brightest when it comes to his interpersonal relationship skills so he could be wrong about this — but those twenty one words sounded more like four simple words: “Please save my son.”
And so, in a matter of only thirty minutes, you spot Satoru from afar, his hand protectively around his would have been assassin’s six-year-old son as they walk back to the car. Looks like the little boy had made his choice.
And you could see with the way Satoru protectively held Megumi back from crossing the street on a green light that he has also made his choice. Just thirty minutes ago, you were bantering with the version of Satoru that would be reluctant to go out of his way to help someone, now, you were face to face with someone new, someone who has been changed almost in a blink of an eye.
Stepping out of the car, you make your way towards the pair, a faint smile on your lips at the sight of Megumi’s tiny backpack slung over Satoru’s shoulder. Your boyfriend gently nudges Megumi over in your direction, introducing him and you crouch down to meet the little boy’s hesitant eyes. “Hi there, Megumi.” Your voice is as carefully gentle as a psalm, you didn’t want to overwhelm him more than he probably already is. “I’m Y/N.”
“Hello.”
“Ice cold,” Satoru whistles, ruffling Megumi’s hair. But you figured that would be the case. A quiet breath of laughter comes from Satoru when you smile endearingly at the kid’s curtness.
As the three of you settle into the backseat, you and Satoru share a fond look when Megumi who has acted all guarded and silent the entire ride home from Chiba begins to drift off to sleep, his arms hugging his backpack but he was dangerously teetering off the seat, so Satoru gently picks him up, allowing him to lay his tiny head on his shoulder.
“He’s gonna stick around with us for a long time, huh?” you whispered, rubbing Megumi’s back as he slept soundly in Satoru’s arms, the three of yu blissfully unaware of just how much your life has changed. You came to Chiba and there was only you and Satoru, now, you were three. And though you know Satoru doesn’t intend to step in as a guardian, you could tell he was slowly settling into the inevitability of that fact. This boy needed a new start, a home, and people to guide him as he grew.
“…Yeah, he will,” Satoru answers, his eyes filled with wonder himself. Earlier when he first met Megumi, he told him to become strong enough to keep up with him.
But for now, maybe this was enough.
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For the most part, Megumi is a good kid.
He diligently helps you with the housework without needing to be told twice the same way he diligently trains under Gojo’s tutelage. He studies hard despite only being in primary school, and he’s well-mannered in every way…at least to you, the kid won’t pass up the opportunity to scowl and call Satoru a lanky freak when he’s being pestered by him.
Because he’s so young to be sleeping in Tokyo Jujutsu High’s dormitories, you and Satoru settled into the idea of renting an apartment near the campus premises. Since you and Satoru are eighteen years old now, it was high time that the two of you start growing into your roles as functional adults which means leasing an apartment, paying the bills, growing your careers and taking your relationship to the next level.
Of course, you and Satoru both piled in cash when it comes to raising Megumi. Satoru mostly shouldered rent, monthly utilities and Megumi’s tuition, being a rich guy like him, those were practically small beans to him. You, on the other hand, shouldered the groceries, Megumi’s clothes and other needs.
One day, while on your way to pick up Megumi, you pass by the trendy Daikanyama district due to a road closure leading to the Ebisu district where Megumi’s primary school is. The inconvenience is nothing short of serendipitous as you and your boyfriend really did need a quick breather and some time for yourselves.
“I feel like I’m gonna turn into a wine dad very soon. Who would have known enrolling a kid would be that tough?” Satoru huffs, his hand protectively around your waist as you walked past boutique after boutique. “Like how am I supposed to know what his blood type is for the school clinic record?”
You hummed, sneakily stealing a kiss from him to which he responds to by pulling you closer, and pretending to bite off your ear. “For all the school knew, Megumi is ours. That would explain why they felt a little icky towards us when they saw how young we are back in that parent-teacher meeting.”
“Mmph, fair point. A cute son will come from a handsome father after all—“
“—Oh please. You’re okay at best.”
“You didn’t say that last night when I had you all folde—“
“—Please do not finish that sentence in public.”
Digressing, Satoru sighs, planting a contrite kiss on your warm cheek as the two of you leisurely walk down the picturesque lane of Tokyo’s very own version of Soho. Once you reach the main road, a certain outerwear apparel store catches your eye. You stop in front of the store window, looking curiously at the displayed winter items. “Megumi’s birthday is coming up soon, no? We should get him something nice.”
“Hmm? Oh right, the 22nd is coming up,” Satoru hums thoughtfully, leading you inside the store. There, the two of you split up to look for a nice gift for Megumi. There, he is approached by a staff member who asks if he’s looking for anything in particular. Satoru clears his throat, nodding. “I’m looking to buy a gift for my son.”
Somehow, you heard that from across the store and you shoot Satoru an amused look when he refers to Megumi as ‘his son’.
“Right, and how old might he be? We have a batch of new arrivals that came in today. They’re perfect for kids aged four and above.” At that, you rejoin Satoru and the sales staff leads you to check out the items at the front of the store. You and Satoru sort through the rack and find one that the two of you agree on: a fleece two-toned gravel winter jacket.
After paying for it, the two of you rush to get to Ebisu elementary school. Making your way to the gate, Megumi instantly spots you and Satoru, the latter being very difficult to miss since he pretty much towered over everyone else.
“Hi, kid, d’you have fun today?” you crouch down to give Megumi a hug. Between you and Satoru, you were the more clingy one towards Megumi, there’s hardly any hesitation in your heart when you pull him in for a warm embrace or carry him in your arms. Luckily, he didn’t seem to mind one bit, but if Satoru did any of the those things to him, he’ll probably headbut him.
“It was fine,” Megumi says shyly once you pull away. “Oh and I got a hundred on the math homework you helped me with.”
“You did?” you smiled. “I’m so proud of you, Megumi.” Satoru smiles, going to ruffle Megumi’s hair only for the little boy to duck away from his hand and hide behind you.
Chuckling at the kid’s antics, Satoru concedes, putting up his free hand in surrender while his other one held onto the gift bag you got. Megumi reads the name of the store: “The North Face”. Following Megumi’s gaze, Satoru grins, handing Megumi the bag. “Here, we got you something. Call it an advanced birthday gift.”
Megumi’s expression screamed: “You didn’t have to.” but you don’t miss the look of surprise and gratitude that shined through his features. You gently nudge him to open it and his breath hitches in his throat when he sees the gift you got him — the first gift he’s ever received.
“Happy birthday, Megumi,” you and Satoru greet the little boy, with Satoru helping Megumi to try it on.
That was the first time Megumi initiated a heartfelt hug and the first time he ever included Satoru, his little arms trying their hardest to include the two of you, so you decide to help him out, and your and Satoru’s arms engulf the little one.
“Thank you.”
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“I don’t know what happened, but I’m headed there now. Alright, see you soon. I love you.”
Everything happened so quickly. One minute you were in Tokyo Jujutsu High’s teacher lounge organizing the first years’ missions for the next few days when you receive a call from Ebisu elementary school, informing you that Megumi got into a horrible fight and was now in the school clinic ready to be picked up, the next you were dashing out the door hurrying over to the school with your heart pounding in your chest.
There, you are the quintessential picture of a frazzled mother looking for her son in the school clinic.
“Y/N!”
“Megumi,” you breathed, your eyebrows knitting together in worry. Gathering him into your arms, you sit on the tiny hospital bed. “What happened? They said you got into a fight? And where’s your jacket?” He was wearing the jacket you got for him this morning when you and Satoru dropped him off, actually, he’s been wearing it a lot, indicating it’s one of, if not his favorite jacket.
Before Megumi could even speak, it looks like the kid that he got into a tussle with had already tattled on him to his mother and now said mother is furiously berating you and Megumi, not caring if anyone else in the clinic could overhear the scandalous remarks she’s throwing your way.
“I want full disciplinary action against this boy!” the middle aged woman all but screeches to the school’s principal, pointing an accusatory finger at Megumi who doesn’t flinch but you hear him sniffle. He’s never been yelled at like that before.
“Ma’am, please, let’s settle this like two rational adults—“
“—Oh I will, I can’t say the same about you! Are you not the least bit ashamed that you couldn’t teach your son good morals?” She then theatrically goes to place her hands on her son’s shoulders. And you have to be honest, with that bruised lip of his alongside his bleeding nose, Megumi had done some serious damage to the boy.
“I — Megumi is a good kid, not once, have we ever seen him hit someone for no reason—“
“—So you’re saying it’s my son’s fault yours is emotionally unstable? This boy doesn’t need a good talking to, what he needs is psychological intervention!”
“Alright, can everyone just please calm down?” The principal, too, seems visibly uncomfortable with the vile words the other parent was spewing at you like machine gun fire. “We’re all here to fix the problem, not make it worse.”
Pinching the bridge of your nose, you could tell this conversation has reached an impasse. Clearly, there’s no way you could reach a mutual understanding of what should be done to resolve the issue.
The older woman looks at you in disdain, grumbling under her breath at the humiliation of being scolded, “What should I even expect from an irresponsible woman who got knocked up before she was even an adult?”
“Don’t you dare talk about my wife or my son that way.”
Megumi looks up, tears in his eyes when Satoru strides in, his normally shining blue eyes dark with a fury that cannot be quelled. You can’t even feel the butterflies that went wild in your stomach when he accidentally referred to you as ‘his wife’ without so much as a stutter because you’re honestly this close to chewing the vile woman out. It didn’t matter if she insulted you, but if she does so much as insult and make your boy cry, you and Satoru will give the weasel a matching patch on her scalp where there should have been hair had you not ripped it out.
But now was not the time to prove her right.
People have always judged you and Satoru for being acting parents at such a young age, often giving you rude stares when you’re out and about doing the most menial of things like shopping at the supermarket or spending some time in the kōen, people found your current situation disgusting, borderline immoral, which is why you initially had trouble looking for an elementary school that would properly entertain you, Satoru and Megumi and not dismiss you three as a bunch of kids playing house.
“Satoru…” you rub your boyfriend’s arm soothingly.
“Babe, she insulted you and ‘Gumi,” Satoru whispers sadly. “I can’t just let her do that.”
All of a sudden, Megumi’s voice cuts through the tension in the room. “Daisuke was being mean. He ruined Hana-chan’s project and made her cry.” At that, the kid named Daisuke bites his lip, his skin turning pallid at the revelation. “And when I told him to apologize, he and Kaito…” Megumi whimpers, trailing off. He averts his gaze from your and Satoru’s, feeling guilty.
And right then and there, the story becomes even clearer when an unexpected witness comes to Megumi’s defense.
“Megumi-kun? We found your jacket, it’s not too damaged, but you may want to have your mama and papa wash it when you get home.” The school nurse walks in and hands you the ruined jacket, it had been cut all over but since it’s fleece, the damage isn’t too bad, not only that, it had crayon marks all over it and it smelled of the dumpster.
“…Daisuke and Kaito ruined my jacket and I punched him,” Megumi sniffles. “I’m sorry.” He wasn’t apologizing for punching Daisuke, that much you could tell, he was apologizing to you and Gojo for supposedly not taking care of the gift you two got him just last week.
The vile mother scoffs at your son’s apology. “Save your breath, you little liar—“
“—He wasn’t talking to you,” Satoru glares at the woman, effectively shutting her up. “Come on, we’re going home.” With that, Satoru, being careful with him given his sprained wrist, carries Megumi out the clinic. You offer the principal a polite nod, indicating that you’ll cooperate with any sanction she seems fit for Megumi, Kaito and Daisuke, before following Satoru and Megumi to the parking lot. A melancholic smile appears on your lips when you hear Satoru reassuring Megumi that you’ll just wash and mend the jacket once you get home to which, Megumi only buries his face in the crook of his father figure’s neck.
If there is one good thing that happened today, it’s the fact that you proved to yourself and to each other that, no one in this world is allowed to hurt or insult your family.
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Satoru wakes up to an empty bed and he doesn’t pretend to wonder where you are. He stays like that for a full minute, simply staring at the ceiling while your side of the bed slowly loses its warmth. He knows you’re hurting, and he knows just how much this entire ordeal has taken from you. First, you had to deal with him being sealed in the Prison Realm, now this…
You really just couldn’t catch a break, could you?
Slowly, Satoru gets up and pads across the hallway, entering a painfully familiar room. The owner of the room has only since recently moved out, but for ten years, this room is one he normally frequented with you, whether it be on Christmas mornings to greet the little prince that occupied such a special place in your heart or on nights when the three of you just simply needed to hold each other, searching for comfort, while you slept.
The door creaks open and Satoru’s eyes well up with tears, his heart plagued by the same emotional turmoil that was haunting you day in and day out. “I just want our boy to come home…I want our son back,” you cried as you held the jacket Megumi had outgrown, the same one he wore almost everyday that winter when he first came to live with you and Satoru.
Instantly, Satoru sits next to you on Megumi’s bed, hushing your cries, kissing away each agonizing tear that slipped from the confines of your sorrowful orbs.
“He must be so scared,” you sniffled, picturing Megumi in the darkest crevices of Sukuna’s soul, trapped and alone. “I don’t even know if he’s alright, if he’s even slept at all or if he’s being tormented by Sukuna day in and day out. What if he’s in pain? What if he’s cold?” you sobbed into your husband’s chest, your cries growing more desperate with each hour Megumi isn’t home safe.
“Shh, shh…I know, sweetheart…I’ll get him back, I promise I’ll bring him home.”
Or he’ll die trying.
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Somewhere in the void, Megumi Fushiguro is in a state of catatonic stasis. Is this what limbo feels like? He just wants to sleep, to give in and let Sukuna’s soul consume him.
It’s so cold…so…cold.
No! He can’t give up, more than his desire to tap out and just live and let die…he wants to go home where he belongs.
You and Satoru must be so worried about him and he was worried too, what if something had happened out there while he was here? What if…something happened to the two of you when he hasn’t even done a thing to thank you both for all the love you’ve given him throughout these years? So with his last inch of consciousness remaining, he spends it on a silent plea.
“Mom…dad…please come find me.”
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683 notes · View notes
byuntrash101 · 8 months
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realistic sex with seonghwa
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seonghwa x f!reader fluff | smut | mdni a/n: welcome to this series. where i'll try to imagine how each member would actually fuck, as ✨realistically✨ as possible. u voted for our shinestar to be the first one but tell me in the comments/asks who u want to see next. enjoy ♡ disclaimer: i say realistic but lets be honest this is pure delulu behaviour and total fiction. everything is solely based on the vibes the boys give off.
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in the relationship he's very loving and attentive. seonghwa is a romantic at heart. he loves big gestures. like expensive gifts and fancy dinner dates. he's a passionate man
(an aries ♈)
although he's not into pda (doesn't dread it as much as hongjoong though who he utterly despise it). he likes to hold you and kiss you but he would rather do it privately
but oh boy when he gets you alone. you will drown in the love. you will suffer the wrath of his aggressive hugs and kisses
he will literally kiss your cheeks so hard that it will scrunch up your face or hold you so thigh that you can't breathe. for him there's no other way of showing his love for him. it's ardent and burning.
(did I say an aries?)
talking of getting you alone *wink wonk*
a ✨neat boi✨
he will always prepare a towel to you clean up before you even truly starts
I feel like you guys are kissing and things get a little heated he would straight up ask if you tryna fuck 
slkslskdlsdkdk
as soon as you say yes he hops off the bed/couch and goes to get the kit™ which includes towels, lube and toys
he might be prepared to clean up afterwards but thats only because he fully intends on getting n-a-s-t-y with you. before he cleans this man is going to make a mess
seonghwa is freaky (member of freak line with woo mingi and joong even if I think he's the less freaky out of the four). he plays coy but i feel like the demon takes possession of him when he’s on stage or in bed. 
he lives for the applause that's why he gives me the vibe of a service top. he usually doms but he will occasionally sub if his partner is into it.
if he subs that would mean he truly trusts his partner and he's ready to give up control. which I feel is something that is difficult for him to do
he will like to be on the bottom and seeing you ride him. 
he's more into praises than degradation but I feel like he would enjoy a healthy blend of both
"my good fuck toy", "you're being so good to me", "what a good little slut"
nothing too mean. he will surely enjoy being bossed around. (cfr that fancall where he literally folds because op tells him not to make her wait). he will enjoy when you give directions. command him to get in his knees for you, or tell him to open his mouth
but wether he subs or doms he will always enjoy some biting. he loves loves loves when you're close to him and you sink your teeth in the crook of his slender neck. he enjoys the slight pain
but most of the times he will top/dom. that's his comfort zone and it shows.
like I said earlier that man lives for your approval and your recognition so he will do anything to satisfy you.
and he will take 👏 his 👏 sweet 👏 time.
quickies aren't for him. he's a perfectionist. when he does something he does it 100%. he gives his all or he doesn't see the point in even starting… he'd rather wait until you have more time.
seonghwa loves and I means loves to give oral. he's oral giver line with mingi.  
he's ready to spend hours on knees head buried in your pussy ignoring his sore jaw and painfully hard cock just to make sure that when he stops your legs and trembling and you've soaked the bed all the way to the matress.
and the worst (best) part is that he's far from done
it's only the beginning of the fun
there's no point in changing the rhythm so once again when he finally slides into you he takes his time. he will coat himself with your juices grazing his tip along your folds and extra sensitive clit before pushing it in very slowly.
all the while being very quiet. barely exhaling a small sigh of pleasure because one big thing about hwa… he loves sounds. he has a huge auralism kink. so he will stay quiet just to get even hornier on the way you sound.
he wants to heart it all in great detail. (the perfectionism kicks in once more)
he wants to hear your pussy gushing out more nectar for him as he slowly fills you up
he wants to hear how you hold your breath while he gives that first slow stroke that you've been begging him for what feels like hours.
then sighs in pleasure as he reaches the bottom of you.
there he will bend down to kiss you.
sloppy kisses. very sloppy. with lots of tongue. he wants to share your taste (and realust of his hard work) with you
that's why I think hwa's favourite position is missionary. he can hear better and he can kiss you while fucks you.
he loves to make you moan into his mouth. he wants to swallow your every sound of pleasure he wants it all.
and he won't be satisfied until he makes you cum at least twice (and i insist thats the bare minimum). because hwa is an over achiever and also a good guy and as goes the famous saying: nice guys finish last.
it's only when you're satisfied (read: exhausted and worn out to the bone) that he will finaly cum too.
he doesn't have favourite spot he likes to cum anywhere on or in you. well at least that's what he says because I feel like he loves to finish inside or all over your pussy.
he loves to see how good he ruined you and messy your cute little cunt got for him. pulsing, weeping, creaming. all swollen and red.
he loves to know he's the one that made you like this. 
hwa is possessive it's less on the nose then joong but still
also you remember when I said freaky?
he's def the type that goes down on you for sloppy seconds after he's finished. if he's feeling extra generous (sadistic) he will drag out yet an other final orgasm out of your exhausted little cunt. just to have the pleasure of hearing you whine louder and squirm under him. pining your thighs open while he tastes himself on your folds.
with hwa it's not over until it's over
and finally he will share the delicious blend of your burning love for one an other with you in a passionate kiss. this time around the passion is more controlled less carnal and more romantic. he wants to show you again how much he loves you and this kiss is the prefect way
right after of course he's running around the place to bring you water and clean you up
maybe even washing you up in the shower if you aren't too tired and you can still stand (9 times out of 10 you can't) if you are too tired then he'll simply let you sleep in his arms (and never in the wet spot. if only there's one. chances are he prepared well enough and there's none)
like I said a neat boi <33
who should i post next?
IF U WANNA HELP ME PLEASE REBLOG WITHOUT USING THE COMMUNITY LABELS 🖤
realistic sex with mingi, with yunho, with wooyoung | ateez masterlist | navigation
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targaryenluvs · 11 months
Text
— ALL MINE
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pairing - prowler!miles morales x reader, miles morales x reader
summary - whilst on the run, your boyfriend miles and yourself were taken home. although your hometown is not as it seems. with a shadow clinging to your every move, will you make it out of this universe? part two - not yours
warnings - possessive!prowler miles, he’s like low key delulu, swearing, violence.
notes - i am absolutely in love with prowler miles. THE BRAIDS HAVE A CHOKEHOLD ON ME. sorry if this seems to resemble other fics but i just wanted to do my lil version since all the others are half way done :P and i’m writing again since i’m in the holidays :) also idk if miles can make people invisible but for the sake of this text yes he can. also big fancy words idk if i used em correctly. comment for p2!!!! also pushing the 42miles calling his girl ma agenda 😘
wordcount: 2.1K
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you had to catch your breath.
you’d never been the most athletic person in p.e and it certainly wasn’t going to change then and it certainly won’t now. but as miles eggs you on to keep moving you ignore all the un-athletic bones in your body and push yourself to keep running.
as you reach your destination miles grabs your hand and the two of you creep your way inside. miles begins to mess around with computers as margo tried her hardest with the help of lyla to figure out what on earth was going on.
as miles scanned his eyes he pulled you into his arms, “you okay?” he asked as you nodded, “for now, as long as miguel-”
and to your luck he barrelled through the doors at the exact moment you uttered his name. “bloody mary much?” you muttered under your breath as you took a step back.
and as he clawed and fought his way in your hand tightened its grip on miles’s. “it’s okay, he’s not getting in y/n/n. it’s okay.” and as he reassured you to the best of his abilities you couldn’t help but feel grateful. he always put you first, no matter what.
always made sure you and his family were okay.
and his reassurance managed to calm you down as margo looked up at the two of you, her finger hovering over the reboot button but as she looked between the miles and you, she couldn’t help but aid the two of you. as miles pulled his mask over his face, you saw the pure rage painted over miguel’s face and you couldn’t help your indignation towards the man.
but you didn’t see him for long as the pair of you were sucked out of the room and travelling at the speed of light (or so it seemed) to freedom.
the lights were harsh on your eyes.
as you adjusted to the luminosity of the neon signs you looked to your right to see miles on the floor.
“miles? miles!” you rushed over and rolled his body over as he coughed, “i’m okay, i’m okay. how about you?” you smiled, “i’m fine babe. we made it, we made it home miles.” you cried as you engulfed him in a hug.
he smiled as he reciprocated, “thanks to you y/n. but we needa get goin okay?” you nodded as you stood and helped him up by his arms.
“hold on tight.”
you’d honestly forgotten how nice the cold air felt on your face. the thrill of swinging through the city, passing people by as they stared in wonder, slinging by and grabbing a few treats on the way, yours and miles’s normal routine almost everyday in the past six months. you never knew you could miss a place so much.
but being with the spider society and being at the HQ managed to make you deeply homesick.
as you neared miles’s home you felt a weight being lifted off of your chest.
you were almost there.
you had gotten home in time.
you’d save mr morales, be allowed to call him jeff and his wife rio, miles would have his father, he’d continue being spider-man, the two of you would move to new jersey (fingers crossed), miles would study something new (seeing as the two of you have had your fill of other universes in the past few days), you’d study journalism, you’d get your own place, travel, live and love.
together.
as you got to his rooms window you held on to the ledge as miles opened the window and carefully guided you in. you’d never expected to feel so elated at seeing his single bed, his action figures and posters, everything. but as you entered, the waves of fatigue messed with your head to the point where you managed to overlook the contents of his room.
you were so exhausted you didn’t even manage to make it to the bed and relaxed in-front of it in the corner. as you looked around you couldn’t help but frown. it looked, different.
some things were missing such as all the posters and figurines. you chalked it up to mrs morales packing them away perhaps, or miles moving them to his own place.
as you slowly drifted off you missed the creak of the door opening.
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rio walked through the door with her laundry basket clung to her hip.
miles turned around quickly, relieved to see his mother. “ah mom, you don’t know how happy i am to see you.” rio furrowed her eyebrows as her son ran over to smother her in a tight hug. it’d been so long since he’d acted so.
and was his hair out?
he seemed shorter too.
what on earth has this boy been up to?
as he rambled on explaining himself she couldn’t help but smile. he seemed so, innocent. before everything, before the pain, before the loss, before it all happened, before he changed, permanently, before her.
“miles, i think it’s cute your into uh what’s it called cosplay? you one of them comics-con kids?”
“what’s that? i- no, this isn’t cosplay ma.”
as she walks into another room miles stands frozen as his uncle aaron walks into the home. albeit a different version of his uncle aaron but it doesn’t change the way miles’s hands are sweating, his heart threatening to implode.
as aaron rested a pile of cash on the table miles stared in awe. “you ready to go miles? damn you took your braids out? what’s going on man?” he joked as he walked to the door his hand gesturing miles to follow along. “yeah lemme just grab something and i’ll be there.”
miles shook you awake and asked you to follow along but not too closely.
you were perplexed as to why but followed along nonetheless. as you made it to the door you saw aaron in-front of miles. and suddenly something came at miles, knocking him out.
you ran to him, “miles! shit, are you okay?” you felt your chest tighten as he didn’t respond, his finger tips twitched yet he was unresponsive. “fuck what the hell did you do aaron?”
aaron couldn’t believe his eyes.
how- what?
you were there. sitting, cradling miles’s body in your arms as you stared up at him.
alive.
“y/n?”
it was a whisper. but you caught it. “no i’m the fuckin sun. yes it’s y/n.” you said as you continued to inspect miles, looking for any signs of injury.
“you want her too?”
your head snapped up as you heard aaron speak again, he was looking behind you and you honestly didn’t have the energy to see someone else right now but as you looked back you wished this was a bad dream.
the prowler.
he stood tall, not as tall as aaron but at least a few inches more so than miles. his suit was a little different, his claws sharper and his mask. he nodded towards aaron, yes.
it was as frightening as aaron’s. aaron. if he was right infront of you you then who the hell was thi-
your head was throbbing so much, but you were currently being tended to. or, you thought you were. someone was lightly dabbing a wet cloth on your forehead, your head was supported by something, it was nice.
when you built the strength to open your eyes you saw miles. “arriba mi vida.” you squinted. “what?” you saw a slight smile on his face, “try to get up.” miles wrapped his hand around your neck, cradling it as you attempted to get up.
you rested against the cold wall as you took in the environment around you. “where are we?” you asked miles as you tried focusing your eyes, you swore you saw the outline of someone tied to a, was that a boxing bag? the light from the window behind them illuminated their outline, their face left unknown.
“shh, está bien y/n.”
“miles you know i cant speak spanish that well.”
“i’m sorry, i forgot. you feelin’ okay ma?”
as you were about to respond the body tied to the bag started to move and mumble, causing you to actually realise that someone was tied up. your eyes were adjusted now and as you looked around and settled on miles’s face you couldn’t help but frown.
“since when do you wear braids miles? and do you honestly think this is the right time to try out a new hair style?” you questioned as he got up, “you don’t like my braids? you use to do em all the time ma.”
your eyebrows furrowed as the body finally came into focus, and you saw-
miles?
you slowly rose from your spot on the floor and looked back and forth from both miles’s. the one in front of you had a certain way to him. his shoulders straightened, taller than usual, hardened face, he seemed so, formal.
whilst your miles was a sloucher most times, not short but he didn’t tower over everyone, usually with a smile donning his face and always easy going.
“i- you.” the words scrambled out and you had no idea what was going on. all you knew was that you needed to get out of here. as you walked towards what you had assumed to be your miles, other miles grabbed your hand and yanked you back.
“whatchu doing?”
“i was seeing my miles. what are you doing? why did you tie him up?”
“can’t exactly have someone running around my streets with my face now can i?”
“okay, i understand that miles but you need to let me go. we need to get back to our universe otherwise mr morales is gonna- and we can’t let that happen you know that. untie him. please.”
“why would i do that shit? what’s so special about him? why does he get to have everything so good? his school, his friends, his family- you.” other miles was getting a little too close for your liking and you found yourself backed up against the wall. not a great position to be in when completely helpless and tired as hell against someone who could probably throw you across the room.
his hand came to your face as he pushed away a stray strand of hair from your eyes. “i- did we- did you date someone like me?”
“not someone like you ma, i dated you.”
“no you dated another version of me. that’s not me, that’s her, wherever she is i’m sure she missed you and if you picked up the phone and called-”
“she’s dead.”
your eyes widened, “i- i’m sorry for you. and for her. i’m sure you loved her a lot but, i’m not her. you’re not my miles, my miles is right there. and i love him. please you have to let us- me go. y/n wouldn’t have wanted this for you i’m sure of it.”
“you gonna tell me she wanted me to be happy?”
“uh i’d assume she wanted that for you. i’m sure you guys were amazing together miles.” you smiled as you tried to suppress your fear. it was hard to, you could feel it slowly creeping in, the miles in front of you was hypnotising, his eyes were warm so warm you could feel them burning into yours. he was absolutely gorgeous, the soft glow from the night life outside highlighting his face. he was so gorgeous it was insane as well as scary. he took your breath away, the same way your miles did.
“we were, and we will be again.”
“i’m not so sure you can bring people back from the dead. i understand you miss her but you need to let her go and move on. speaking of moving on miles and i should be moving on back to our universe so if you would so kindly-”
“i got her right here ma.”
his grip on your hand tightened as he somehow got closer. all the air had apparently hopped out of the room since you felt your chest tighten.
“no me dejarás de nuevo mi vida. your staying with me, here.”
“You won’t leave me again my life.”
“stop it, i understand you’re hurting but please just-” you tried with all your strength to push him away but his feet were planted firmly into the floor, as still as a statue and you couldn’t help but cry.
you’d escaped one place to be potentially imprisoned in another.
“shh, shh y/n/n. i got you right here.” he held you as you sobbed, praying your miles would wake up soon and save the two of you.
as miles held onto you he couldn’t help but feel his tensions and sorrow seep into the floor as he held you again after all this time and as he did he couldn’t help but whisper,
“you’re mine mi amor,
all mine.”
2K notes · View notes
libraryofloveletters · 9 months
Text
Back At It Again
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Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader
Warnings: unrequited feelings, childhood friends to something more than friends but less than lovers, mentions of charles' past relationships (charlotte and giada), hints towards there something being wrong in charles and charlotte's relationship, lorenzo gives reader a bit of a reality check, reader's lowkey delulu for charles (like some of y'all), a few time jumps, monaco curse, france 2022 DNF and my personal vendetta against ferrari is showing again sorry.
Word Count: 3.9k
Author's Note: I feel like I never write charles outside of the daddy & me + three series so here you go, sorry for breaking your hearts in advance :))
---
Attached at the hip. Everyone knew wherever Charles was, you were only but a few feet away.
It had been like this since you were children, Charles sat next to you in class when he was there. The boy leant over, peeking at your page before scribbling the answers onto his own paper and flashing you a smile.
If you stopped to think, maybe he had you wrapped around his finger since then.
You had always had a soft spot for the driver; except back then, Charles was just Charles. A sweet, soft spoken, smiley little boy with a horrendous bowl cut - something you still teased him about.
A photo hung on your living room wall; you and Charles as children on the front steps of your elementary school, the ice cream that Lorenzo had bought you two dripped all over your faces, hands and uniforms.
There's a big grin on Charles' face as he looks towards the camera but you? You were looking at him, the adoration written across your face.
Sometimes you wondered if you had stopped yourself then, if you would have ended up where you were today.
As much as you held a soft spot for Charles, he held one for you; you were his safe space.
When things got tough and he didn't know what to do or who to turn to, it was you he came running too and you took him in, consoled him with open arms every single time. You dropped everything and everyone the moment Charles came running.
The man had a hold over you, something everyone but you and him seemed to see.
You were madly in love with him and frankly, it clouded all of your judgement. You held him to the highest of standards, you just hoped that one day he'd see you in the same light.
---
You found yourself in his driver's room. Charles had invited you along to your home race in Monaco, he had just started with Ferrari and after his split from Giada, he needed some support. You being the good friend you were, well.. you were there for him anytime he called.
He was excited, his first home race with the team had always dreamt of racing with and you, as his best friend, you were just as excited.
Charles found himself starting in P16 but he was certain he could fight his way up, he held out a hope that he'd win but at the very least, get the car into points for the weekend.
Things were going okay in the race, Charles was slowly but surely moving up the leaderboard but it was barely the beginning of the race.
Lap 8 was unfortunately as far as Charles's Monaco Grand Prix went.
The Ferrari driver made his way back to the garage after an incident with Nico Hulkenberg. Charles passes by, quietly making his way to his driver's room to change and you wait for a few minutes before following him, knocking on the door that was shut.
"Charles?" you called from the other side, "can I come in?"
"Yeah," he says and you find him sitting on the bench in the corner of his room. He looks small, broken; it broke your heart to see him like that.
The door shuts behind you but you stay in place, your back to the door as you look around; various shades of Ferrari red, the logo of the prancing horse engraved into the wall.
It made you wonder if Charles ever regretted it.
He had barely started with Ferrari but he was young, so young and to have a world champion as a teammate, not to mention the pressure that comes with being a Ferrari driver on his shoulders at the age of 22 was a lot to handle.
He looks over at you, glancing at the empty spot beside him and you take that as a signal to join him, walking over and sitting next to the man.
"You okay?" You asked quietly and he shrugs. He won't look at you again but you don't miss when he brings his hand up to his face, the back of it wiping across his cheeks. "Charles," you whispered, your hand resting on his knee.
The driver finally looks over at you and it breaks your heart to see him like this. You tsked, arms open as he fell against you. Your touch brought him comfort, you rubbed his back softly as his breathing slowed, calming himself down. His skin was warm and sticky under his fireproofs, the material stuck to your hand and your chin rests on his head as he moves closer to you, holding onto you.
"It's not your fault," you whispered and Charles shook his head, you can feel it against your chest. "It is. If only I turned another way-"
"Charles, no." You stopped him, giving him a nudge to sit up so he could look at you. "Listen, I might not be a racer but even I could see that what happened was Nico's fault. You can't blame yourself for that, there's nothing you could have done differently. I'm sure the team knows that, ask Seb - I know he'd tell you the same thing."
He sniffled, pulling the collar of his top up to wipe his face. He pulls the thing off, tossing it in the corner of his room.
It's quiet again, the two of you sitting next to each other in silence, Charles stared at the wall and you, well you were looking at him - you were always looking at him.
He turns to you, his hand coming up to touch your face, cupping your jaw. You raise your eyebrows, waiting for him to speak. There's a small smile on his face, "thank you, y/n, for everything."
You return the smile, your hand wrapping around his wrist before giving it a small squeeze. "Anything for you, Charles, you know that."
---
Summer break rolls around, Charles is now in his second year with Ferrari and things are going reasonably okay.
He ended off the first half of the season with a DNF in Hungary but he was certain things would pick back up in Belgium after the break.
It's a typical Sunday in Monaco; sunny, hot, people were at ease, out for a stroll or a drive but the Leclerc's were having lunch at Pascale's.
She had invited her boys over for lunch, to have them all home at the same time was a rare treat these days. It was a family day, which meant no girlfriends but you were there but you were always there. Charles' parents, especially his mother, had always seen you like another one of their children; the daughter they always wished to have.
Lunch was on the balcony today, chatting with a side of people watching. Charles sat next to you, his arm stretched out over the back of your chair as you laughed at something Arthur, who sat next to their mother, said. Lorenzo eyes the two of you from the head of the table, his arm on the edge of the table, chin resting on the palm of his hand.
The plates were empty when you stood, starting to pick them up. "Let me help," Pascale goes to stand but you stop her, "no no, you relax. You made lunch, it's the least I could do."
She smiles at you, thanking you as you cleared the table and took everything inside. You had just put away the leftovers and were about to start on washing the dishes when Lorenzo came in, bringing in the empty wine glasses.
"Thank you," you smiled at the oldest Leclerc brother.
He nods, leaning on the counter as he watches you wash the dishes. "What?" You look over at him, setting the plate in the dish rack carefully. "Worried I'll break mama's good china?" You joked and he smiled, shaking his head.
"Are you okay?" You ask seriously, despite you two knowing each other for years, it was unusual for him to just hang around like this.
"Yeah, are you?"
Your brows furrow, setting the washed glasses into the dish rack. "I'm fine, Enzo. You're sure you're okay?" You asked, your back to him as you wiped your hand on the hand towel.
He shrugs and you take that as a drop in the conversation, about to walk back to the balcony but he grabs your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. "I love you like a sister, y/n, so this is why I'm telling you this." He starts.
Worried would be an understatement, all the possibilities spin around your head, from good to bad and you're still racking your brain as to what he wants to tell you.
"Don't let Charles stop you from living your life, y/n." You look at him confused, blinking a few times before you speak. "Wha- Lorenzo, he's not stopping me from doing anything."
"I know he's got you fooled, has you thinking that you'll be next, that he'll come running to you and never leave but he always does. I love him, he's my brother but he's a fuck up when it comes to relationships. He loves you, we all know this but in his own fucked up way, he think you'll always be there for him and that's why he keeps stringing you along. He's in a relationship, y/n, don't forget that."
"Lorenzo, why are you-"
"Listen, I just don't want to see you hurt. I don't want you to wait on him and then when you finally realize he's using you in his own messed up way, that it'd be too late and your whole life has passed you by."
You pause, unsure how to process what he's just told you. You know he's right, you wished he wasn't but he was.
You did the only thing you could think of, the only thing that could keep this going - somewhere in your own fucked up delusions, you knew couldn't lose Charles, doesn't matter if you got hurt in the process.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Enzo." You say quietly, the man nods, sighing. "I know you do, you know exactly what I mean, y/n. Just be careful, okay?"
You don't answer but he looks at you, "do you understand me?" He asks once more and you nod, Lorenzo finally lets go of your wrist.
"Hey," a voice comes from behind Lorenzo; Charles. "Tout va bien?" (everything okay?)
Lorenzo turns to his brother, a smile on his face before he speaks. "Ouais, je parle juste du travail de y/n." (yeah, just talking about y/n's job.)
The man nods, glancing at you for confirmation and you smile, giving himself a subtle nod. Charles hums, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. "C'mon, mom wants pictures." He sighs, grabbing your hand to pull you out with him.
You glance over your shoulder, looking back at Lorenzo who gives you a warning glare; he was looking out for you, despite his words cutting into you.
---
Laid to your left on the bed, your hand felt over the empty space to find your phone. Squinting, you checked the time - 4:53am.
Who the hell was knocking on your front door?
You pulled the robe on as you stood up, wrapping it around you and tying the knot as you begrudgingly followed the noise to the door. It didn't even occur to you to check who it was before you had already turned the handle.
Much to your surprise, it was Charles with his luggage in tow.
"Charles?" You blinked, rubbing your eyes to make sure you were seeing right. The man steps past you, letting himself into your apartment. He leaves his suitcase by the door, slipping his shoes off before heading to the kitchen. "Yeah okay, come on in then," you mumbled, shutting the door behind you.
He comes back, sitting himself on the couch. There's something in his hand, he pops one into his mouth - grapes. "I don't know what happened." He sighs, passing his hand over his face.
It takes you a second - who can blame you, it is 5 in the morning after all - but you finally connect the dots. He's home in Monaco, he raced yesterday, in France.
"How'd you get here? Isn't everything closed, wait did you drive?"
Charles shook his head, "took the last train out last night, well this morning."
"Okay," you hum, walking into the living room. "Do you want to go home? I can give you a ride -" "No."
"What's going on, Charles?"
You were genuinely confused and concerned about him. You had seen the race, you knew things went sideways fast and it's not like him to come home in such a rush, even if things did go wrong.
He sighs as he leans forward, his elbows on his knees as his face drops into his hands. "Things are bad."
"Meaning?"
"Charlotte," he admits.
This isn't the first time Charles had come running to you when things got tough between the two of them and frankly, it was often that he showed up at your doorstep with nowhere else to go.
"I can't see her right now, y/n." He looks up at you and you nod, walking over to sit next to him. "She's still your girlfriend, Charles. Whatever the issue is, you can talk it out."
"She doesn't understand, y/n - not the way you do." He turns in his seat to look at you, he looks so tired and broken; god, he's lost all the boyish joy you had always loved about him. Some would say it's age but you knew it was more than that. It was Ferrari and all that they made him out to be, the pressure of the world on his shoulders and he's trying, he's pushing and it never seems to be enough.
Ferrari is red; red like the colour of blood, the blood of their drivers, their broken hopes and shattered dreams. You don't escape that place without a fight, and a brutal one at that.
You can't help but reach out to him, your hand pressed to his cheek; warm, the stubble that's formed over the weekend prickled at your hand.
"You're my best friend, you understand me more than I understand myself sometimes." He chuckles, smiling at you.
"I'll always be here, Charles. You don't have to think twice about that."
He nods, smiling at you. "Can I.. stay the night?"
"Isn't.. she looking for you?" You asked hesitantly and he shakes his head. "She thinks I'm coming home on Tuesday, told her I'd be spending some time with Pierre and his family."
You think about it for a second, you know you really shouldn't let him stay. If you were such a good friend, as you had always claimed to be, you'd send him home, let him work out whatever issues he was having with his girlfriend but alas, you were but a woman and a selfish one that is.
Whatever you could do to keep him in your grasp, to live in this delusion for only a second more, you'd do it.
You justified it to yourself; he looks so tired and broken, you can't possibly kick him out.
"Yeah, stay as long as you need." You tell him and he smiles, pressing a kiss to your palm. "Tu es le meilleur," (you're the best.) he says, getting up and making his way down the hallway.
You assumed he was going to the bathroom but when it goes quiet in the hallway, you head over to check on him. "Charles?" You called, seeing that the bathroom door was open and the light was off but when you see your bedroom door open, you peek in to find him in bed.
Charles has always been comfortable in your space; too comfortable if anyone asked.
He was curled up on your bed, the duvet pulled over him with his socks left on your bedroom floor by the bed along with his hoodie and shirt discarded on the chair in the corner. You shook your head, tossing the robe on the chair before getting on the bed. You got into bed as quietly as you could but Charles must have felt the dip in the mattress, rolling over towards you, his arm stretched over your lap.
You smile to yourself, your hand reaching down to twirl a few strands of his hair.
As you looked down at the man, his brother's words rang in your hand.
Your blood runs cold and you feel sick, but you can't bring yourself to move.
---
Christmas has always been your favourite time of the year. Your apartment was decorated from the time November 1st rolled around. You had all out this year despite the fact that you were going to visit your sister in the states for the holidays.
You had just put the tray of cookies into the oven when there's a knock on the door. You make your way over, peeking through the peep hole to find Charles there.
"Hey," you give him a small smile when you open the door. He smiles, a bag in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other. "Can I come in?" He asks - shockingly.
You step to the side, letting him in. You shut the door behind him before turning around to face the man. "Happy holidays, y/n," he hands the stuff over to you," this is for you."
"Thanks," you take the flowers and the bag, setting it down on the counter as you grab the vase for the flowers.
Per usual, he finds himself on the couch as he looks around. He took in the stuff you had put up since the last time he had been there; a tree in the corner filled with ornaments, garlands, you've changed the curtains on your windows and the hand towels in your kitchen, even the throw pillows were different.
He's sure your bedroom has had a Christmas makeover.
"You okay?" He looks over at you when he notices you're quiet. You nod, setting the flowers into the vase, "I'm fine."
You take a seat on the couch across from him, your legs folding under you when you sit. Charles looks at you a bit confused, not sure what you're doing all the way over there. He pats the spot next to him, "come sit with me, y/n. I missed you."
Rolling your eyes, you scoff at his words.
Now he was really confused. "What's wrong?"
Your hands fold over your chest, looking over at the man. His white knitted hoodie was a size too big for him, swallowing him whole. He looked adorable, you wanted nothing more than to hold him in your arms but you can't let yourself fall into this again; things never change.
He never changes.
"I'm sick of this, Charles."
"Of what?
"This," you gesture between the two of you, the man's head tilting to the left, brows furrowed. He's still unsure what you meant by that.
"You do this every time, Charles. You don't miss me, you miss the idea of a relationship, someone to be at your beck and call. You know I'm always here for you and because of that, you use me. When things get tough in your relationships or you're single, like you are now, you come running to me and god," you huffed, shaking your head in disbelief. "It's like I never learn, I'm so stupid that I let you in every time."
Charles looks at you, his jaw hanging open a bit. "Y/n, come on- that's not true."
"Yes it is," you nod, sighing. "When you broke up with Giada, you clung to me, Charles. You spent every moment you weren't racing with me until you started seeing Charlotte. When things got tough with Char, you came to me, you hid here until you felt like you had to go home. Somehow you used me as an escape from your real issues, you made me feel special, like you loved me-"
"I did love you, y/n. I do love you." He says, his fingers poking into his chest to emphasize his words. You scoff again - the audacity of this man.
"Don't say shit like that, Charles. you know it's not true. You came to me when things got tough and no matter what was going on in my life, I dropped everything for you. I was always there for you and now that Charlotte's gone, you've come running back to me in hopes that I'll distract you until you find someone new."
"God, why are you making me out to be such a horrible person? I love you, y/n, I care about you. I really do."
"I know you love me, and that you care about me, Charles but I cannot keep doing this."
He sighs, passing a hand over his face. You take his silence as a chance to say what you have to say. "Either we become more or we're nothing at all."
"Y/n, please. Don't be like that," he looks over at you, shaking his head in disbelief. You give him a small shrug, unsure what else to say.
Charles stares at you for a moment, trying to figure out what exactly he's supposed to say. You were his best friend, the only person he had actually trusted enough to confine in, to turn to in times of hardship and you had the audacity to throw that back into his face?
He watches as you stand, walking to the door. "What's the answer?" You asked and his brows furrow, you open the door this time.
You clarify the statement for him. "Are we more or nothing ?"
You're standing there, the front door to your apartment wide open and Charles can't help but laugh when he stands. "You're not serious."
"I am," you nod, taking his words as an answer in itself. "You need to go, Charles."
"Y/n, don't-"
"Charles stop, we all know you don't want more with me, I can see that clearly now. You laughed in my face, that's enough. There's no need to humiliate me anymore, please just go."
He nods, walking over to you. The man stops in front of you, his hand cupping your cheek. "Look at me," he says but you look everywhere but at him. "Y/n, look at me."
You finally do, your eyes meeting his. "You're serious about this?" He asks. "Yes," you nod, "unless you want more."
A tiny piece of you hoped he'd say yes but he lets go of you, moving his hand from your face. "Okay."
"Okay."
Charles leans towards you, his lips pressed to your cheek before finally taking a step back. "I'm sure I'll see you around," he says to you quietly and you nod, chewing at your bottom lip. "Sure."
He steps out of your apartment, walking a few feet down the hallway before he calls for you. "Bye y/n."
You watch from the door, nodding towards him as he steps on the elevator. You've both got a clear view of each other. "Goodbye Charles." you call out to him just as the doors slide shut.
The front door to your apartment shuts as well, your back pressed to the cold wood. Your head tipped back as you sigh. You aren't sure how you're supposed to feel because right now you felt empty and lost; you hoped it wouldn't be like this forever.
That chapter of your life was over and you hoped that one day you'd find the happiness you deserve.
---
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allur1ngs · 6 months
Text
✮ succumb (to me) ✮
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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!!
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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“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.”
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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.”
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wildestdreamsblog · 1 year
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a one shot w jk and the one night stand scenario pls pls i beg 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️ delulu levels r off the charts ever since ck
What he wants, he gets
Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader (idol au)
Warnings: Soft Yandere, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.
3000 celebration
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‘Fuck,’ you mouthed as you looked down at your bare body covered only by a white sheet, and then slowly and horrifyingly turned to look at the man beside you. Your eyes widened even further, your heart beat faster as recognition dawned on your face.
Fuck, indeed.
You let your head fell back down on the pillow in frustration. You couldn’t even have the luxury of experiencing any onslaught of confusion about what happened the night before because you knew full well. The soreness in between your thighs and the marks you could see scattered on your chest were enough to tell you what shouldn’t have happened.
You blamed the alcohol.
You even blamed the man beside you.
But worst of all, you blamed yourself.
You meant, in the first place, why did you allow yourself to go out and drink and completely lost it?!
And of all the people you could have slept with, why on earth did you sleep with the Jeon Jungkook?!
God, you knew you had to leave before he even woke up. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how he would react when he saw you beside him. He would probably think you tricked him somehow.
With bated breath, you lifted the heavy arm filled with artistic tattoos. You carefully watched his face, taking note of the way he whined when you left his arm. He was frowning adorably before you place a pillow in his arm.
You looked down at his handsome face. His dark, luscious hair was like a halo in perfect contrast to the white pillow. His slightly agape lips looked as kissable as they did last night. Jeon Jungkook looked like a dark prince that stepped out of a fairytale. He looked like a dream with his innocent face and his eyes filled with childlike wonder, yet his sinful body told a different story.
Sadly, you had to leave the dream and wake up.
You just wished he didn’t recognize you.
With a small, bitter smile on your lips, you kissed his cheek softly. And with that, you left. In your haste, you unknowingly left behind your bracelet with your name engraved on the inside,
Three weeks passed and yet, the memory of your time with him was still deeply etched in your mind. The way he kept looking at you in secret, a shy smile gracing his lips, the way the colorful lights from the club reflected on him, the way he finally built the courage to walk to you- they were all living rent free in your mind. The marks he so delightfully left in your skin may have already faded, but you could still feel him. The way he was so shy when he approached you was so opposite to how he was when he was on stage. The way he laughed at your jokes was like music in your ears… and the way he looked at you with interest and shyness both glinting in his eyes made you pull him by his clothes to kiss him. You squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself to forget. You have to if you were going to work with the group.
“Until when are you going to sulk, Jungkookie?” Jin asked the youngest maknae, his voice both worried and with a hint of sermon. Ever since he woke up hours later without you and with no trace of you except the bracelet you left behind, he felt angry. That was almost a month ago and everyone in the group could feel the shift in his mood and it was affecting them.
Jungkook was someone who was often laidback, someone who didn’t want to feel negative emotions. However, everyone knew he hated when he was being ignored and what you were doing was the highest form of neglect he had ever felt in his life.
“Until I see her again,” he answered quietly, his eyes focused on the bracelet he was wearing. It was tight on his wrist, but he didn’t care. This bracelet was the only information he had on you.
“Jungkook, you know we always give you everything you want. But we can’t give you her. Not when we don’t know anything about her except her first name,” Namjoon explained gently, his patience endless when it came to the golden maknae. He could see how you were able to affect Jungkook. This was the first time they saw him be attracted to someone, really attracted to someone.
Because if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t lose sleep over you. He wouldn’t go home to his hyungs with tears in his eyes saying he lost you. He wouldn’t still look for you if you were meaningless.
“You’ll find her, Jungkook. We’ll help you, okay? But now, we need you to focus in this meeting.”
The meeting ran long. It was both draining yet productive to the boys. After deciding to call it a day, Jungkook walked out of the room. His eyes were focused on his phone when he felt someone ran into him. His hand immediately went out to steady her.
The girl bowed down her head in apology, her hair covering her face as she refused to meet Jungkook’s doe eyes. He tilted his head, about to ask her if she was okay. His large hand was still touching her forearm when he caught her.
And he felt something he couldn’t name.
Your heart beat faster. It was just your luck to run into him when you thought you successfully evaded him the whole meeting. But there was no way he recognized you, right?
“Have..have we met before?” He asked in confusion, his voice deep as he tried to peek at your face.
“N-no,” you answered while shaking your head, your hair still carefully placed in front of you. Your eyes were now on his hand that was still touching you. Your eyes widened when you recognized that bracelet.
It was yours.
Why was he wearing that?
In your surprise, you looked up at his dark and beautiful eyes. And before he could even process anything, you were apologizing yet again and walking as fast as you could to the elevator without looking suspicious.
Jungkook turned his broad back on you, his brows furrowed as he tried to remember your features and where he saw you. It was merely a second, only full second that he got to see your face before you hid behind your hair again.
You really looked familiar.
You felt familiar.
Could you be-
“Y/N! Enjoy your weekend!”
You had just entered when your coworker saw you. She waved at you, unknowing about the chaos she created.
The elevator was closing when you looked up and saw Jungkook snapped his head to you. His eyes looked betrayed as recognition finally dawned on him.
It was you.
It was your name. With purpose, he ran to the elevator only for him to miss it by half a second. You slumped back to the wall. There was no way that he didn’t recognize you now, his face told you everything.
Fuck. He was fucking mad.
He was fuming mad. He probably thought that you took advantage of him, never minding that he was bigger and stronger than you.
But still, he was younger than you by almost two years. You closed your eyes, praying this was all a bad dream. But the elevator finally dinged, signaling the basement floor. You opened your eyes just as the elevator door opened, only to reveal a huffing Jungkook.
He was breathing hard after running down the flights of stairs. There was no way in hell you would escape him now, not when he finally found you.
His dark clothes made him looked more imposing, more dangerous. His booted feet entered the elevator slowly, sauntering to where you were practically glued to the wall.
“Why are you running from me, noona?” He asked with his head tilted to the side. His voice was soft, but he was anything but.
Jungkook was both happy, yet angry. Happy that he finally found you. Angry that you had once again ran away from him, something that you weren’t allowed to do anymore.
Not when he finally found you.
“J-jungkook, that night was a mistake. I’m sorry,” you said with shaky voice, your hand stretched out in front of you to stop him from cornering you even further.
“Noona, how could you leave me alone?” He asked you with a pout, his hand caressing your face. Fucking finally. Finally, he could touch you again. “You promised me that you wouldn’t leave me.”
What?
“It wasn’t a mistake…it was meant to be,” he continued despite your grip on his thick wrist. You tried to stop him, but he was too determined and strong. His large body crowded you. He looked down at you with dark eyes, his eyebrow piercing glinting from the elevator’s light.
“But I forgive you. We’ll start again, noona.”
You were attracted to him, really you were. But the way he was right now, the way he sounded almost…terrifying, woke you up from the dream you were in. Jungkook was no prince charming.
“I need you to step back, Jungkook,” you said with a strong voice, pushing him away to no avail. “We need to talk about this?”
Jungkook chuckled darkly. “You want to talk? Fine, we’ll talk, noona.”
And before you knew it, he leaned down and your body was thrown over his wide shoulder.
Who would hear your cry for help in the basement? Who would stop him?
“Is that her?” Taehyung asked as he watched their maknae carried someone over his shoulder. He was finally smiling. No one knew this side of Jungkook. Behind his sweet smiles and personality, Jeon Jungkook was an obsessive man. No one knew, and unlucky you, you were about to experience first hand.
“It seems like,” Jimin answered before smiling.
No one could really control their maknae. What he wanted, he got.
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Alternative ending
2K notes · View notes
cheollipop · 1 year
Text
lovesick
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navi | taglist
pairing: choi san x fem!reader
w.c.: 2.6k
tags: smut, fluff, san is in LOVE
back-to-back schedules meant san barely had any time to eat, let alone see you. after feeling your skin against his for the first time in weeks, he couldn't hold himself back anymore.
warnings: a smidge of plot, softest dom!san, high stamina!san (like crazy high), praise, dry humping, cunnilingus, face sitting, unprotected sex (wrap it up kids), multiple orgasms, creampie, breeding/impregnation kink, overstimulation, nicknames (sannie; baby, pretty, love, darling...), dirty talk, aftercare
A/N: this is dedicated to @toxicccred <33 I have not been able to stop thinking about lovesick sannie since we last talked about it, so I really hope you enjoy this! ^^ no but seriously, this had me feeling some typa way. the delulu came out for this one oof...
nsfw under the cut - minors dni!! 🔞
⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹
I'll be home soon.
11:38pm, read the timestamp.
You eyed the clock on the wall across from you, the small arrow pointing to three. San was late at practice, and you struggled to keep your eyes open to greet him when he eventually walked through the front door. You hadn't seen him in over two weeks, his schedule packed with his new comeback coming up.
Lying down on the couch, your body succumbed to its exhaustion.
You startled awake, unaware that you had fallen asleep in the first place, when they front door clicked shut, making out a blurry San toeing off his shoes. He noticed your figure – half-sitting down on the soft cushions, eyes squinting to make him out in the dark room – and gave you an apologetic smile, a whispered sorry breaking through the silence. You got up, walking towards him and wrapping your arms around his figure without saying a word. He quickly reciprocated, engulfing you in his warmth and eagerly fisting his hands in your shirt, drawing you closer to him. You inhaled the scent of an unfamiliar body wash, his wet strands an indicator of the shower he took before coming to you.
"I've missed you, Sannie," you mumbled against the warm skin of his neck while he peppered the side of your face with soft kisses.
"Me too," he muttered between presses of his lips against every patch of skin available to him. "So much." He cupped your cheeks, moving your face back to admire it with fond eyes. "But I'm here now."
San pressed his lips to yours, your head jerking backwards at the momentum. He pulled away just as quickly, bringing you closer to his body again, nuzzling his nose into your hair. Your chests were flush together, rising and falling at the same rate. You placed a line of kisses over his exposed collarbone, your palms rubbing comforting circles over San's back, scratching at the skin and eliciting pleasant hums from the man.
You felt something begin to poke at your hip and you pulled away slightly to look down. Your cheeks flushed at the sight of the forming tent in San's sweatpants making a bridge between your bodies. You looked up at him, eyes still bleary with sleep.
"San?"
His cheeks were coated with a bright red, eyes looking anywhere and everywhere but you, nervously fiddling his fingers at his waist.
"I just- I missed you s-so much," his pout muffled his words, his gaze flitting over to you before stepping closer and burying his face into the crook of your neck. "I-I couldn't help it, I'm sorry."
His hips slowly rolled against your hipbone – perhaps involuntarily – and you could feel the familiar tingle of arousal rushing through your body. You grabbed onto his shoulders, trying to pull him away to look at his face, but he didn't budge, the rate at which his hips were moving now relentless while he panted against your ear.
"San, let me-"
"Please, (Y/n). I couldn't stop thinking about you all day, I had to rub one out in the bathroom between schedules – a-ahh – b-because I was so excited to finally see you," he turned his head to rest against your shoulder, looking up at you from the corner of his vision. His hands grabbed at your hips, moving them to match his continuous ruts against you. "We don't need to do anything, just – ah – I'll finish s-soon. Please, can I just-"
San's lips parted, breathing out airy, needy moans onto the side of your neck before attaching his lips to the skin and nipping at it. You leaned down, cupping San's cheek and bringing your mouth to his, lazily moving your lips together while he desperately rutted against your hip like a bitch in heat.
"Sannie, I want you too," you whispered against his lips, watching his eyes glaze over as they took in the redness of your cheeks.
One of your hands reached down to his ass, grabbing at the clothed skin and urging him to thrust harder against you. He groaned into your neck as he came, his hips stuttering while his body shuddered against you, his release soaking through his clothes and darkening the material around his crotch.
Breathing heavily while he recovered from his orgasm, San's hands gently wrapped around the sides of your neck, his thumbs caressing the skin under your ears. He placed a few fleeting kisses to your lips, pushing his hips back into your palm as you squeezed at the flesh of his ass.
"Your turn."
--
San's fingers dug into your hips, bringing you further down on his face. Your hand stumbled to grab onto the armrest above San's head where he laid horizontally on the couch, your thighs shaking around his face as he pulled orgasm after orgasm out of you with his tongue.
"San, wait-"
He pulled at your hips again, his tongue placing kitten licks against your swollen clit. "Sit down properly."
"I don't want to hurt you," your knees dug into the cushions, your body curling in on itself as San brought you to the edge of yet another high.
"I can take it." His eyes fluttered open to look at you, his hands bringing you down fully over his face, your thighs squeezing against his temples. "There you go," he whispered against your dripping folds, his tongue licking up from your pulsing hole to your clit, before running his teeth over it and watching you whimper as a shiver ran through your body.
San flattened his tongue against your clit and your hips began to move on their own to ride his face, chasing your second orgasm of the night.
"Ah, Sannie. Fuck," your thighs tensed around his head, his tongue lapping at your pussy like it was his first meal of the day, humming pleasantly as he swallowed up your sweet arousal.
"Taste so good… I could eat your pretty pussy all day," he muttered against your clit, your body jolting every time his lips pressed against it. "Can you give me one more, sweetheart?"
You shook your head, lifting your hips off San's face. He reluctantly let you go, watching as you slid down his chest to straddle his hips, his bottom lip jutting out to form a pout.
"Want your cock," you breathed out, still recovering from your orgasm.
San's eyebrows shot up, nodding his head like a madman, his eyes rolling to the back of his head when you ran your dripping folds over his cock, standing red and angry against his belly. You shuddered when he brushed against your clit, moaning against his skin before taking one of his nipples into your mouth, running circles around it with your tongue while tweaking the other between two fingers.
"Fuck, (Y/n), please just- please fuck me already," he moaned, his eyes teary and pleading as you continued to roll your hips against him. "Please don't tease me, baby, your teasing is like torture. Please. I want you so bad, I feel like I'm losing my mind."
He withstood two more glides of your pussy against his throbbing length before wrapping an arm around your waist and flipping you over, hovering over you while his other hand lined him up with your entrance. "Can I? Please, please, please-"
"Yeah, fuck me good, baby," you answered hastily, grabbing at his biceps for support when he finally breached your fluttering hole.
"Fuuuck, my pretty baby, so tight for me," his hand grabbed the underside of your thigh, opening you up for him to shove his entire length into you in one go, his pelvis flush with yours. "A-ahh, taking me s-so well," he stuttered when your walls clenched around him, adjusting to the stretch.
You brought one hand down to San's ass, grabbing a handful of the flesh and urging his hips to move. San groaned into your neck, licking a stripe from your collarbone to your jaw before sucking on the skin under your ear.
His hips began to move, starting with shallow thrusts before drawing more of his length out and stuffing it back into you with a firm thrust, rolling his hips into yours when your pelvises met.
"All I could do these past two weeks was think about you," San brought his lips up to yours, his cock pumping into you and pressing directly against your favourite spot, your head thrown back as bolts of pleasure ran down your spine. "Hongjoong even scolded me yesterday because I kept getting the choreography wrong. Do you know why?" His voice was breathy and jagged as pleasure soared through him with every thrust, your pussy squeezing him so deliciously he was struggling not to fill you up already.
"Uh-uhh," you shook your head, your voice melting into a high-pitched moan when San's hips slowed down to a measured grind, feeling his cock throb inside you where it pressed on the ragged spot along your walls.
"Because I couldn't stop thinking about how badly I wanted to fuck this tight pussy full of my cum," he growled, his hips picked up their pace again, pounding himself into your sopping cunt.
"W-want Sannie's cum," you moaned into his ear, your nails scratching at his back.
San brought his fingers down to your clit, rubbing harsh circles around it. Your back arched, nipples brushing over San's as your orgasm washed over you. Your lips were parted while a drawn-out moan escaped you, your knees shaking and your hips jolting every time San brushed his fingers over your sensitive clit.
He didn't give you time to recover, swiftly flipping you over to lay you flat on your stomach before sheathing himself inside you again.
"S-san!"
"I'm not done with you yet," he pressed his lips against the back of your neck as he pistoned his hips into you, propped up on his forearms by your head.
Your fingers grabbed at the cushion under you, your whole body convulsing as San's cock pounded mercilessly against your g-spot.
"Wait- i-it's too much – hnnnngh," tears flowed freely from your eyes to form a dark spot on the couch under you as pain mixed with pleasure every time he thrusted back into you.
"Give me one more," he took the shell of your ear into his mouth, his body stretching over yours while the sound of skin on skin echoed in the room. "You can do that, can't you? Can my darling cum for me once more?"
He knew he got you when your pussy squeezed around him, a smirk stretching the corner of his mouth before his teeth bit down on your shoulder, his tongue licking over the bite mark he'd left.
"Wanna see you," you slurred, too fucked out to focus on anything but the glide of San's thick cock between your overstimulated walls.
San was quick to change positions, pulling your limp body over his to sit you down on his lap before sliding his length back into you. He set his feet down on the floor, thrusting up into your abused cunt. You threw your head back at the new angle before leaning in to slot your lips against his, wrapping your arms around the width of his shoulders. The kiss was mostly teeth and spit, but neither of you minded, the pleasure shooting through you too intense for either of you to care.
"Gonna fill you up," San muttered against your lips, his fingers gripping your hips so tight he was bound to leave bruises. "Have you full of my cum for days."
You nodded fervently, eyes rolling back when San took your nipple between his lips, giving it a harsh suck. "Want it, w-want it. Please!"
"Yeah?" He smirked, his fringe stuck to his slick forehead, one of his hands coming up to your mouth and shoving two fingers inside. He watched as your lips closed around them, sucking the digits into your mouth and circling your tongue around them. "My baby wants my cum? Want me to make you a mommy? Hm?"
You nodded, letting out muffled moans around his fingers and a series of yes, please, give it to me's as you felt the tingle of your impending orgasm. "W-want to carry Sannie's children," you breathed out, sliding a hand between your bodies to press your palm into your lower belly, feeling the swift glide of San's cock inside you.
San pulled his fingers out of your mouth, bringing them down to your sopping cunt and circling your clit eagerly. His lips parted while throaty moans escaped him freely at the feeling of you rubbing his cock from the outside.
"H-hah- a-ahh, San, I'm so- I'm going to-"
"Go ahead, my love," San rubbed calming circles over your back, bringing you closer to his chest as waves of mind-numbing pleasure rushed through you – your legs shook around him, loud moans spilling out of your swollen lips, your eyes blown wide. "That's it, cum for me."
The tight squeeze of your walls around his throbbing cock was enough to send him over the edge with you, throwing his head back as he spilled rope after rope of cum into your cunt. "Fuuuuuck- take my cum, baby, take all of it," he shuddered as he came. San stilled his thrusts, allowing you to rock your hips over his cock, riding out your highs together with soft moans and grunts into the other's skin.
Your hips ceased their movement, your pussy warming his cock while he continued to spurt his seed into you. It was so much. You felt so full – you actually believed you would get pregnant.
San wrapped you up in his arms, bringing you closer while he peppered your face with kisses before tucking you into his chest.
"I love you," you whispered, placing a tender kiss on his collarbone.
San smiled, his eyes forming nearly-perfect crescents. "I love you so, so much, my darling. My pretty (Y/n)."
San squeezed his arms around you once before releasing you. He secured his hands under your thighs before getting up, giggling at your surprised yelp while he carried you with him to the bathroom. Setting you down next to the sink, your legs continued to twitch where they dangled off the counter while San adjusted the water in the shower. He smirked at the trail of cum you left on the counter before guiding you under the warm water, washing off the sweat and grime from your previous activities. San scratched at your scalp, rubbing the shampoo into your hair, hearing you hum pleasantly into his chest. He kissed you under the warm stream, reveling in the soft touches you left all over his body – your palms rubbing against his back, nails scratching at the skin every now and then, your lips trailing down his chest before going back up to leave gentle pecks all over his face. San didn't think he was insane, but the more time he spent with you, the more he thought he was about to be.
Wrapping you up in the fluffiest towel he could find, San penguin-walked with you to your bedroom, his arms wrapped firmly around your middle while his chest pressed against your back.
Sliding into bed, the early birds already awake and singing outside your window, you inhaled the soft scent of San's body wash. He hummed faintly into your ear, your eyes beginning to droop before finally falling shut. Your hand – rubbing small circles against San's back – ceased its movements, falling limp over his waist.
Lulled to sleep in San's tender embrace, you realized that missing him was worth every second when he finally came home to you, tucking you into his arms while he showered you with all his love and kisses.
apply for my tag list here (´。• ᵕ •。`) ♡
2K notes · View notes
coconutdays · 8 months
Text
emotion
s. you get stuck in your crush/study buddy's room during a freak storm.
w.c. 1.8k
w. gn! reader (I thought a fem reader when writing this, but then I noticed that I didn't really make it gender coded! so I figured it was a plus it came out this way!) , suna! x reader , fluff! suggestive! bc there is some steamy kissing and of the making out
a/n: Earth spun a wheel between Rin, Osamu, and Atsumu for me to write for and it so conveniently picked Suna Rin
Ending up in the same room as your classmate/crush during a storm, at night, with no electricity had never been on your bingo card for the year. Yet, here you were, blinking back into reality seconds after the lights just went out.
"Shit" Suna sighs. You can hear him start to move, making out the shadow of his body standing up and moving towards his beside drawer.
"I have a candle in here." He mutters, the obvious rummaging being heard before it ceases after you somewhat see a cylindrical shape in his left hand. The smell of paraffin going up into flames accompanies the slight bit of light coming from the match he just lit, it fades away the moment he blows out the match after getting the candle to light.
It isn't much, the light coming from the medium sized candle, but it lets you fawn over his face, his entire being. It's a flattering light and it sets a mood you wish you could do something about.
"You think the Professor will cancel the test?" He shivers a little when he sits down across from you again, rubbing his hands together.
That's the reason you were here in the first place, to study for that damn test.
Suna had sat next to you at the beginning the semester after getting there at the last minute and the last open seat had been the one next to yours. Ever since then, you had exchanged small talk and numbers with each other. It happened frequently, befriending the people sitting next to you in class, some days it was a great help to ask each other if the other had done the homework, understood yesterday's lecture, or if they had notes because one of you couldn't go to class that day.
But you only got excited when Suna asked you for your version of the notes from the previous lecture. Everyone always complimented your penmanship, but the first time he got your notes for reference against his, he sent a text:
lol you write really pretty
You smiled to yourself at it when he sent it and could only send a thank you back.
He didn't really befriend anyone else in the class and neither did you because of it. You didn't have the chance to when any free time in the class where the professor hadn't started lecture yet was taken up by conversation he tried striking up with you. It automatically made you study buddies by the time this first test came around.
"Well if it looks like the rest of the campus, or at least half of us lost electricity too, then it might be a no brainer to save it for another time."
He lets out a puff of air as a sarcastic laugh at the situation, "It's like that shit you say. Being delulu is the--"
"Solulu." You finish for him, giggling.
He lets out a 'heh' and leans forward while hugging himself even tighter, "Sorry you got stuck here. The storm really came out of nowhere."
"I'm sorry I got stuck here." You counter, your body starting to shiver at the increasingly cold air filling up the room with harsh cold rain storming just a window away and no heater to protect against it. "I'm in your room after all."
"It's fine," He says, his eyes acting a bit more fox-like than usual as he stares you down before he adds, "Let me give you one of my hoodies, it's getting cold."
And before you can interject and say that won't be necessary, which it really won't--you don't need Suna's hoodie, you're fine freezing to death if it means you don't have to breathe in his intoxicating scent clinging to your skin--he's getting up and walking to his closet.
As quickly as he gets up, he's coming back and handing you a hoodie, the specifics of it like the color or design not something your eyes couldn't register at the moment.
"Thanks." You meep out, basking in the moment your head first slips through it and you feel the hoodie envelop you. You didn't know what was keeping you warm now, the actual material draped over your body or the fact that it was Suna's and he had worn it before, it was his.
When you look back at him and squint a little, you can tell he's wearing one of his own too. One he rarely wore--yes you noted how frequently he wore his hoodies, you couldn't help but make the observation.
"Well if we think tomorrow's test is gonna be cancelled..." Suna drags on, "We can play Mario Kart on my switch?"
You weren't one to frequently come across the opportunity to play on a switch, so you asked, "It can work without wifi?"
"Yea, " He nods, "it's the only I can think of to keep us occupied while we wait to see if the electricity comes back any time soon."
You can think of something else.
And so does he, but he won't tell you that either.
While he gets up to get his console from his desk, you nervously near his bed.
"Hey, Suna, can I play on your bed?"
A shiver runs up his spine and his eyes go wide as he's disconnecting any unnecessary wires from his switch. Time stands still for him and-
"Suna?"
"Yea!" He manages to blurt out like it's not big deal as he comes back to you with the console in hand. When he joins you in sitting on his bed, next to you, propping up the little screen across from both of you, he says, "And you can call me Rintaro. If you want."
You lean over a bit to look at him curiously, noticing a slight change in his demeanor, as if he had something else busying his mind. His eyes seemed caught up in a thought.
"Sure."
That small observation of yours became a thing of the past soon after you had finished playing two matches against him.
He had become your worst enemy.
"You do not let me catch a break!" You laugh and yell at the same time, shoving him with your shoulder.
"Just because you don't play it often, doesn't mean I have to go easy on you." He defends himself, smirking as he looks at you from the corner of his eye while he picks a new map to play on.
You toss your controller to his side of the bed to throw an over exaggerated fit.
"Well now I don't wanna play if I'm gonna keep getting bullied like this." You haughtily huff and cross your arms
Suna jokingly rolls his eyes and is about to ridicule you when you're both suddenly enveloped in darkness again.
The candle must've gone out.
And for some reason, the lack of light made for a lack of noise in the space between the both of you. The rumbles coming from the storm outside filled the void between the both of you and eventually closed the space between you two when a monstrous crack of thunder and lightning made you yelp and grab onto whatever was near.
The shock of the sudden noise had you breathing a bit quick and with your arms around Suna's torso, who instinctively put his arms around you too.
It was quiet, yet not at the same time.
The roaring storm outside was noisy enough,
but you and your study buddy weren't saying anything.
Your hands can feel how sturdy he is underneath the layers of his shirt and hoodie. He's big, an obvious fact considering he is tall and a volleyball player for the school, but it seems so much more prominent when your hand feels so small compared to his huge back.
His breath tickles your ear and you move your head back when you shiver because of it.
His face is now in front of yours because of it. And now you're both in a position to kiss. You can feel his body and mind contemplating it, by the way his head moves a little and how his breath starts to sound. You don't doubt that you're probably doing the same.
When you feel his hand squeeze around your hip, you give him a small peck on the lips. It took all of your courage and some of the intensity from the moment to do it.
You have no opportunity to berate yourself for doing it when he chases after your mouth immediately when you're about to pull away.
And now you're making out with...
"Suna." You sigh, feeling him manhandle you onto his lap
"Rin." He breathes quickly before he reaches for your mouth again.
You can't help the mewl you let out from savoring the moment like the repeated relief of taking off your shoes after a long day of walking.
"Rin." You repeat after him.
Rintaro, Rin, is breathing just as heavily against you as you are. He's going as far as you are, whatever you do, he does in return. When you swipe your tongue against his lips, he does the same, except you open your mouth to him when he does.
And now you're both kissing with tongue.
You moan particularly loud and he juts his hips up into you right before he pulls away from you, the look in his eyes something you so agonizingly wish you could see right now.
"I like you a lot." He confesses, moving his hands down to slither across your thighs and hold them there.
"I like you a lot too." You say back, gripping onto the hem of his hoodie.
"Yea?" Rin breathes against you, going back in to kiss you
"Mhm." You sigh in relief.
"Fuck, "He can't help but push up into you, "You're so fucking pretty."
"You think so?"
"Know so." He groans and heads towards your neck for an assault, holding you in place by the back of your neck. "I want you so bad."
You grind your hips against him, turned on by the confession, "I want you bad too."
BOOM!
And you get scared shitless by the bitchy thunder again, dragging you away from the intensity of your increasingly intense makeout session with Rintaro and into a breathless heap of laughter with him. He had fallen back onto the bed, dragging you down with him and into his arms, snuggled into the crook of his neck.
"Does this mean I can finally follow you on Instagram?"
"Huh?" You're still dazed from the oxygen sucking of a makeout you just shared with him
"I found it a long time ago, but you never gave it to me so I didn't wanna seem like a stalker. You looked really pretty in your post last week though. I like pink on you."
"Stalker!"
823 notes · View notes
7ndipity · 1 year
Text
Dating Yoongi headcanons
Yoongi x Reader
Warnings: swearing, lil suggestive, not proofread.
A/N: Alright, if we're gonna do this series, then it's time we talk about my ult. The man, the myth, the meow meow(I'm sorry Yoongi)
(Also, I'm already planning a pt.2 for this series that's more on the crack side, so if anyone wants to send me headcanons for the members to possibly be included in future lists?)
Masterlist
Requests are open
°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•
Dating Yoongi is comfortable.
So soft for you, I can't even begin. Like, I don't understand how people ever think he's cold, he is the epitome of soft boi.
Blushes when you complement or brag on him.
Turns into a scrunched up, spluttering mess if you call him cute(we love our tsundere).
Very cautious at first with his feelings, but once he feels comfortable enough to open up, he's very straight forward.
To call it dating is a bit generous though. Like, y'all immediately go from 'kinda dating' to 'married-but-not-married'.
Tells you he loves you for the first time in one of those long ass, 3am texts like he sends to the members.
Random,(half-)joking proposals(Marry me, Yoongi uno reverse card!)
"What kind of ramen do you want?" "Marry me." "Both it is."
So many songs about you, but you will not know until they're released(or he makes them into a playlist/mixtape for your birthday or anniversary)
Actually really hesitant about letting you in his studio(sorry fellow writers). He just prefers to have a level of separation between his work and you.
Dates are usually pretty chill(except for special occasions or when he wants to flex and rents out a whole fucking skating rink for y'all or smth)
Another who lives for domestic activities with you, like cooking together or even just grocery shopping. Idk, he just likes getting to be with you.
Probably would love going camping with you in one of those little camper vans.
Likes to teach you things?
I mean, he won't want to be your full time teacher, but if you show an interest in smth like piano or producing, he'll get a kick out of teaching you the basics.(let him teach you about basketball, he'll lose his gd mind)
Not big on nicknames(big shock🙄). Like, you have a perfectly good name, why not just fucking use it? Also calls you 'Jagi', but that's if he's feeling particularly soft or needy.
Acts of service King.
Have you eaten? He's making food. Are you cold? Makes you take his jacket. His top priority is making sure you're taken care of.
Gets lowkey jealous of Holly getting too much of your attention. "Yah, are you dating me or my dog?!"
Sass and bickering are basically a second language for you two.
Subtle about pda. If he's not holding your hand, he has to have one resting on your back.
SOMEONE HOLD HIS FUCKING HAND FOR THE LOVE OF-(sorry, I'm calm)
Not always vocal about wanting physical affection, but when he is, he's lowkey dramatic.
*laying on the couch*"If you don't kiss me, I'm gonna die." *kiss* "Better?" "Hmm, still in critical condition. Keep going."
Another who gets more than a little enjoyment in winding you up into a flustered mess, and is smug about it(again, shocking no one, I'm sure)
Slow, lingering kisses as he holds onto you like you're the most precious thing in the world.
Gets really quiet if you fight(and sulks), but is usually the first to apologize because he absolutely cannot stand y'all being mad at each other.
Holds you to go to sleep.
"Marry me." "M'kay."
Okay, that's enough delulu for right now, Imma go cry.
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joelmillers-whore · 7 months
Text
Hard Light | Chapter Two
chapter one | ao3 | masterlist
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series summary: when a new english professor begins teaching your class for the duration of your semester, you can’t help but develop an innocent crush on him. he’s as off-limits as he can be but it doesn’t deter you in the slightest. after a drunk night, you accidentally email him something that wasn’t intended to ever be seen by anyone. but that doesn’t matter. it triggers a misunderstanding that manifests into an affair with your professor who is twenty years your senior. nothing good could come of this, right? 
chapter summary: becoming obsessed with your english professor and imagining what fucking him would be like was never part of the plan. you seem to think about him whenever least convenient and read more into innocent words and touches than you should. but, your infatuation with him comes screeching to a halt when you discover something about him. crush done and over with, right?
pairings: professor!joel x college student!reader
word count: 2.7K
series or one-shot
chapter warnings: 18+ explicit, minors DNI, no mention of Y/N, alternate universe, professor/student relationship, eventual smut, self-esteem issues, workaholic, joel x female!reader, infatuation bordering on obsession (stay delulu friends), some sexual thoughts, masturbation (f), sexualization of the male form, allusions to sexual and explicit scenarios, drinking and glorification of getting drunk
A/N: okay, listen, i won't beat around the bush, i kinda let this series die after like one chapter. my brain works in mysterious ways, as in, i lose interest in stuff quickly, and that includes writing certain fics. that's why i have so many unfinished wips. but, here we go with another chapter of hard light. i re-read this chapter and was suddenly inspired to write for it again. enjoy and don't forget to comment, reblog, and like.
You’d been stuck at the coffee shop for the majority of the day, constantly checking your phone to see if Jeremy had answered you yet. But it didn’t look like he was going to be able to cover your shift. Where the fuck was he? You normally had no problem with covering a Saturday shift but you really needed to leave early, the application for the internship was due soon and you hadn’t started it yet. You flinched, feeling the burn of scolding oat milk drip onto your hand. You shook your hand out, trying to ignore the pulsating emanating from the skin. 
You’d been burned before and worse, but you just wanted to get through this shift. You tipped the ceramic cup and poured the frothed milk into it, moving your wrist in tandem with tipping the cup, trying to quickly do the design that had become second nature to you at this point. Your mouth flattened into a tight line, almost smiling at the student as you handed them their coffee beverage. You were always glad that the coffee shop on campus had only a few options to choose from when it came to coffee orders. And they were all pretty easy to memorize and make. 
Heaven forbid you worked at a Starbucks, where you had to nail down complicated drink combinations and fulfill nauseating orders. Coffee was a sacred thing, at least to you, and it was the perfect concoction of bitter and sweet that had you hooked each time you drank it. People needed way too much sugar to actually enjoy a caffeinated beverage, and there was nothing wrong with that, but it wasn’t something you personally liked. 
You looked up from putting the oat milk back in the fridge when you heard the chime on the door, ready to greet the person who had just entered with a welcoming smile, but that smile flattered when you saw who had just walked in. Your new English professor, the one with the tight ass. You shook your head. Okay, from here on out you were not allowed to think of him that way. He made his way to where you were, an easy pace to his walk. You swallowed as your eyes raked over him. He was wearing brownish-green slacks that seemed to fit him snuggly in places that you couldn’t look away from, and a stylish brown tweed jacket, which stretched across his forearms and chest tightly. 
He gifted you with a smile, his lips perfectly rounded and pink even though they hid underneath a subtle stubble. You opened your mouth to speak but apparently, you had no knowledge of the English language at this current point in time. 
“Could I get a latte?”, Professor Miller asked. 
You had heard him speak in front of nearly a hundred people earlier this week and yet, you were taken completely off guard by the throaty yet softspoken quality of his voice. How soothing and intimate it was when it touched your ears. It made you shiver, imagining how it would sound in the harshness of night when he was on top of you, thrusting slowly, and giving you words of encouragement while you took his thick—
“Yes”, you squawked, stepping back from the counter and burying your head in the coffee machine as you prepared his latte, trying not to let it show how heated your cheeks probably were. 
You heard a low chuckle from him as he paid, turning on his heels and standing in front of you, the bar of the counter the only thing acting as a barrier between the two of you. 
“You’re from my English Lit class, right?”, he asked, his Southern drawl sweeping over your whole body, making your stomach flutter. 
You looked up briefly, not ready to meet his eyes for fear that he could read your thoughts if you let him. You nodded, ducking back down and concentrating. 
“Thought so”. His voice was filled with amusement and something else as you felt the weight of his stare. 
You placed his finished latte on the counter, stuffing your hands into your back pockets as you waited for him to grab it. He took hold of the cup and the saucer but he didn’t move, plastered in place as you locked eyes with him. His pupils were double their original size as he scanned your features, seemingly staring into your soul. You wanted to look away but you couldn’t find the strength. 
His mouth tipped up at the edges, “Since I can get an unbiased opinion from one of my students...”, he paused, thinking about his next words thoughtfully, “How did you find my first day? Been meaning to ask one of you...”. 
You cleared your throat, “I think you did well. If my opinion matters at all”. 
Professor Miller snickered under his breath, nodding, “It does. Thank you for your honesty”, he twisted around but spoke over his shoulder, “I think you’ll find that I have a lot that I can teach you, and I look forward to the rest of the semester”. 
And with that, Joel continued to a table near the back corner of the coffee shop, setting his beverage on the surface and taking out his phone. He didn’t look up at you for the duration of his time, sipping his coffee, head buried in his phone for about an hour before leaving. He gave you a small wave as he left, which made your cheeks flame. 
You really needed to get a grip on yourself and not read more into his words. But you couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything else. I think you’ll find that I have a lot that I can teach you... He meant it in terms of the course, not whatever your idle mind told you it was really about. But you couldn’t help but dig into the double meaning behind those words. You were sure he could teach you a thing or two, he definitely looked like someone who had more experience when it came to sexual things. God, what was wrong with you? Joel— Professor Miller was a nice man, someone you could surely rely on when it came to your studies, you shouldn't be thinking of him that way. 
You were just tired and in need of some sleep. Yeah, that’s why you were letting images best left in the dark corners of your mind float to the forefront. Occupying yourself for the rest of your shift, eventually, Joel and that whole interaction became a distant memory, leaving your mind as fast as it had manifested. 
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
You settled into a lacklustre routine as the week came and went in a flash. You hadn’t had another one-on-one conversation with Professor Miller, much to your relief. You’d been using your job at the coffee shop, studying and catching up on homework, or even spending time out with friends, as a diversion when your mind began to wander back to that man that made your head spin and your every nerve ending light ablaze when his eyes settled on you in class. 
It wasn’t just a one-off coincidence when you felt it the first time, it wasn’t even a coincidence the second time that you’d felt it either. It was becoming something permanently stuck in your head; when you would see him again, and you made a bet with yourself before every class. Would you get that same flutter in your stomach when you saw him standing before the class, back turned to you and that backside calling out to you? And every time, you would win or lose, depending on your outlook that day. You had a monster crush on your English professor and it was becoming a hindrance. 
Each day you’d wonder what he would think of your outfit, because yeah, now you were actually having to think about your appearance, you actually cared. You wanted him to care, to notice, for his heady gaze to bore into you for a little longer than any of the other girls in your class that he looked at. It was maddening, having him on your mind when you were awake and when you were asleep. You’d conjure the dirtiest images of him and you when you were alone at night, not caring in the slightest as you slid a hand into the waistband of your panties, driven to the edge of insanity if you didn’t ease the overwhelming flutters that never seemed to quit. 
You told yourself that what you were doing was innocent, that because Joel was in your proximity, it was only a natural progression that you’d develop something of a crush on him. But what you didn’t account for was how badly you wanted to act on it. How sometimes when you hung around after class, trying to work up the nerve to talk to him, you’d half-expect him to throw you onto his desk and pound into you, roughly, eagerly, your name slipping past his lips as he worshiped your tight cunt. But, he never did. And the more you thought about how much you wanted it, the more it became unrealistic. 
He was your teacher, for fuck’s sake, and you were his student. Nothing would happen and nothing could happen. But at night, when the stillness of the darkness crept in and you were having trouble falling asleep, your mind still strayed to the man old enough to be your father and you’d cum to the thought of him, over and over again, until your sated body and mind lulled to sleep. And then, when your alarm shrieked in the morning and you had to peel yourself from your bed and get ready for the morning, you’d be overcome with shame. Shame and regret. Because you were getting yourself off to the image of a man who probably wanted nothing to do with you, and you felt like a creep. 
You’d go about your day as normally as you could until you saw Joel in class again, and something as innocent as making contact with his hand as he gave you a quiz would ignite those flutters again, making them unquenchable. 
You were currently out with a few friends from your English class, and Jeremy had decided to tag along. The guy was a social butterfly and could fit in with any group easily. It was actually getting on your nerves, how your friends were currently swooning and chatting to him while you just sat there, waiting for them to loop you into the conversation. Jeremy caught your eyes over the shoulder of your friend, Cat, who was shamelessly flirting with him. Not that you minded, it was great that he was looking for someone. You had thought that you’d broken him when you broke up but it must have been all in your head. 
“Let’s dance”, Jeremy said to Cat, taking her hand in his, making her giggle as she stood up from her seat, and letting him guide them to the dance floor. 
You watched as his hands moved down her body, settling on her hips, and swaying them both in time with the slow song that was playing from the jukebox in the corner. Feelings you’d thought you had buried long ago came swelling to the surface, which had nothing to do with Jeremy moving on right before your eyes and everything to do with how lonely you felt. It hadn’t really hit you until this moment, watching two people who you considered friends, getting closer. 
You had a stupid habit of putting your needs on the back burner and suffering because of it. But growing up in a household that would rather see you be quiet than entertain any of your ideas or thoughts or feelings had done a number on you. Instead of seeking out what you wanted, you always held back, afraid of upsetting someone and losing their respect. It was the dumbest hang up but you couldn’t shake it. Even when you were in your twenties, it lingered. The feeling of not being good enough, for anyone. 
You turned around in your seat, giving Jeremy and Cat some privacy, the call of alcohol in whatever form suddenly calling out to you like a siren song. 
“Shots?”, you asked the remainder of your friends, which elicited a resounding and enthusiastic response. 
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
The time was crawling into the early hours and yet you still knocked back shot after shot, not caring much that the bar manager was growing annoyed at you and your still rowdy group of friends, probably seconds away from kicking you all out. Jeremy had brought Cat home hours ago but the rest of you decided that the night was still young, and so were you. 
You’d been dancing for the majority of the night, switching dancing partners as much as you’d switched between different liquors, but you were alone now, moving your hips from side to side as you nursed a drink of some kind, not really knowing what was in it. Your friend, Ayesha came over to you, stumbling and almost knocking into you. 
“Look what I just found”, she slurred, holding her phone near your face. 
You squinted, trying to get the dizziness to subside long enough for you to focus on the image she had pulled up. But it was difficult, you were really drunk. 
“What’s is it?”, you asked, hiccuping loudly. You covered your mouth with your hand. 
“It’s him”, she screeched, jumping up and down, “Professor Miller, I found his Tinder. God, he looks yummy”. 
Your heart sank to the dark and twisted pit in your stomach and you felt like retching right then and there. But, it was inevitable, for the spell to break, it was only a matter of time. Fuck. You rubbed at your eyes, hoping that this was all a dream. Just a really demented trick that your mind was playing on you. But when you removed your hands from your face and everything around you came back into view, you knew it was reality. Because of course a man like Joel Miller, the rugged yet charming English professor from Austin, Texas would have a dating profile. He was surely dating people and having sex. Lots and lots of sex with women his own age, not with his students. 
You took a step back from your friend and uttered something about feeling sick and wanting to go home. They offered to Uber back to your apartment with you but you made up some excuse about it being dirty, so you didn’t want them to see it like that. A short Uber ride and you were sinking down against your front door, running your hands through your hair, and smacking your head back in frustration. You were an idiot, and right now, you were a drunk idiot. 
Getting up from the floor, you fished around in your purse for your phone and settled into bed, not bothering to change or take your make-up off. It was way out of the realm of what you could muster from yourself right now, and honestly, it was a whole task in and of itself. You mindlessly scrolled through various apps on your phone, trying to occupy your mind, anything to not think about the shocking and devastating revelation you’d had tonight. 
You paused when you hit your email inbox, seeing a new email from Professor Miller. You sat up in bed, fumbling with your hair like he could see you through the phone. You clicked into the email, your eyes struggling to focus on the small text. You skimmed it, something about a missing attachment from the previous email you had sent him. You groaned, feeling like your world was spinning on its axis. Maybe it was from the alcohol or maybe it was because of the damning truth that you never had a shot with Joel, to begin with. 
You thumbed the tiny icon to attach the missing document to the email, replied back to him, and threw your phone away from you. Maybe you’d feel better about things in the morning, but you strongly doubted it. Nothing could cure how heartbroken you were and nothing could help you through it. Wallowing would have to do but for tonight, all you wanted was sleep.
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