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#when I dress up for the grocery store it never works out
luveline · 1 month
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also didn’t realise that amanda was their little baby but here’s an idea if ur up for it. amanda inherits like spencer’s smartness i guess and so when she starts spewing facts about the random-est stuff spencer’s overjoyed and then bombshells just staring at them with adoration in her eyes?? idk something really fluffy
“Shoes?” Amanda asks. 
“Yeah, babe.” 
“No thanks.” 
You hold Amanda’s socked feet in your hands. “You need shoes to keep your feet warm.” 
“I’ll have socks.” 
You look past her tiny face to her father for some assistance. Spencer scratches his neck, looking absolutely exhausted, though he’s dressed sharply. You’d spent a few minutes finger curling his hair this morning before it dried, and he’s brushed them out gently, giving him a windblown look. You pretend to take a photo of him. He rolls his eyes. 
“Amy,” he says lovingly, baby-voice in play as he leans over the back of the couch, “you know why you have to wear shoes?” 
“Why?” 
“Because growing up, your feet are very small, and very fragile. They need time to grow in proper structures, and they can’t do that if you don’t wear shoes when you’re walking a lot.” He gives her shoulder a rub. “Don’t you wanna match me and mommy?” 
“You wear shoes… different. Mom has heels,” she insists. 
“What if I wear flats?” you ask, eager to leave the house before afternoon. 
She shakes her head, crossing her arms over her chest with a Spencer style pout. 
Spencer sits down next to her with a sigh. You’re both aware of how smart she is for her age, and while it can be interesting, it’s also made some stuff so, so hard. Like explaining shoes. “I’m not want to wear them. It’s good for my skin to breathe.” All her r’s sound soft, like w’s.
You rub your eyes. Spencer sucks in an excited breath. “Yes! Skin can’t really breathe, but it’s good to have it uncovered sometimes to help your circulation and your pores.” 
“‘Xactly,” Amy says. 
“And, you know, shoes that don’t fit right force your feet into narrow positions, which can cause a whole bunch of problems.” 
“No shoes,” Amy says. 
“But…” Spencer backtracks, thumbing under her eyelashes gently. “If you don’t wear your shoes, we can’t go out to the store for groceries and we can’t go to the bakery on the way home. Which means you won’t get your sugar donuts, mommy won’t get her slice of cake, and that’s gonna make me so sad.” 
“Why?” 
“Because I love when your mom is happy. It makes me happy when she’s happy. She doesn’t look very happy now, does she?” 
In all honesty, you’re much too pretty to be sitting on the floor, tights to the carpeting and your cute black dress bunching up your thighs. You refuse to close yourself into the ‘mom’ box some may expect of you, dressing as you had before you became a mom, but you’ve allowed Amanda the opportunity to choose your necklace; a gold pendant ring with green and pink sapphires. It’s gorgeous, colourful, and doesn’t even slightly go with your outfit. Spencer reaches for it now, tugging it straight carefully against your neck. 
You frown deeply, pulling your widest, softest doe eyes. “Please, lovely girl, put your shoes on. Or I’m gonna have to be strict, and I hate being strict.” 
“Don’t fw-own, mommy,” she says, listing into Spencer’s side, “you’ll get wrinkles. Worse wrinkles, ‘cos your muscles remember.” 
And again, all her r’s are w’s, her pronunciation lispy and sweet despite her amazing expertise. Spencer laughs and takes her face into two hands, kissing “Wow, smarty pants,” into her crown. “You’re so smart! I can’t believe it!” 
You feel your annoyance softening. Fine, she’s a smarty pants, and you secretly love it so so much. You’ll just have to carry her to the car. Or her genius dad can carry her. Actually, that could be great, Spencer’s never looked so handsome as he does carrying around your little baby, especially now he’s started working out every now and then. 
“Better role your sleeves up, Spence,” you say, standing up off of your knees. “I’m keeping my heels on. Daddy’s gonna carry you, and you’re gonna get wonky feet.” 
“That’s fine,” Spencer says to her in a whisper, “I’ll carry you forever if you want me to, even if you do get all wonky, bubby.”  
Amy preens as she wraps her arms around him and he picks her up. He takes her shoes from your hand without her seeing. 
“Isn’t she amazing?” he mouths, and he means it, his eyes wide with it. 
“She’s gonna protest socks, next, Spencer Reid, and then what are you gonna do?” you ask. You aren’t half as concerned as you’re pretending to be. Amy’s a baby. She’ll learn how important shoes are soon enough. 
“I’m gonna hold her in my coat, like this,” he says, pulling his coat over her legs. 
“Like that,” you say to yourself, grinning. “Okay, you two do what you want. Can we go now? We really need to get some groceries.” 
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tddyhyck · 10 months
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has never went to oovoo javer
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pairings ⇢ uber driver!hyuck x afab!reader
warnings ⇢ strangers???, protected sex (kinda), car sex, thigh riding, fingering, oral (m receiving/slight f receiving), voyeurism, exhibitionism, masturbation (f), mentions of being high, squirting, lip ring hyuck OFC, also big fat cock hyuck agenda, roleplay
word count ⇢ 4.1k
a/n ⇢ i dreamed this or something i swear, also thank u hua my bestie for letting me talk about this as always 🤭🤭
masterlist
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you didn’t take uber’s often, usually opting for carpooling with friends or using public transport, but when you did you always got the same driver. he was pretty nice all of the times you met him, not bothering you with talking unless you started the conversation and even handing you candy after the third time you rode with him.
he was really attractive too, at least from the backseat and from his uber profile picture he seemed to update regularly. he had longish dark hair, plush rosy lips with a pretty silver lip ring, and he wore an insane amount of rings that suited him.
you always wondered if he had some sort of other job or if he was just an uber driver. he seemed like someone who would be in a band or work at a grocery store. there was noi-between. you were nosy but never wanted to pry since he was just your always uber driver.
today was different for you though you had left your friends late so you couldn’t take the bus and your friends were high just like you. so you got on your little uber app and waited to see who it was. it would almost be surprising if it wasn’t haechan, but his face popped up on the app and it made you a little giddy.
you could overthink and let your mind wander to why he was always picking you up and somehow always right around the corner but you didn’t. you liked seeing him with decorated fingers gripping the wheel while he played music you had said you liked.
so you bid your friends goodnight and hurried down the stairs to the front of the building. looking left and right to see if his familiar black suv was pulling up. you waited a minute rocking on your heels and shivering slightly when you finally saw him pulling up flipping his lights to get your attention. you scurry over to his car gripping the handle and sliding into the back seat and fixing your hair with your hands before looking up to see him staring back at you.
“hi,” you mumble, scanning his face to see his lip ring glinting in the car light.
“hi, pretty, how are you?” he responds, lips pulling into a slight smile. you don’t remember what ride he started calling you pretty on but it made you want to giggle and kick your feet.
“high and horny,” you blurt, making him throw his head back laughing. you cover your mouth quickly mortified at your confession. “fuck sorry.”
“you’re good, pretty, just don’t make a mess on my seats,” he winked before turning back around to face the front. you throw your head back to hit the headrest while heat floods your body. from both the embarrassment and the heat between your legs and his little comment didn’t help. you squeezed your legs together, the fabric of your dress riding up as you did.
the drive to your place was about 15 minutes and it was going to be complete and total torture but once you got home you could hole up in your room with a hand between your legs and release the pent-up feelings.
you had forgotten how getting high made your panties insanely wet and your body vibrate. but you remembered now staring at haechan who was tapping his ringed fingers on the steering wheel and letting his tongue swipe his lip before tugging on his lip ring with his teeth. you wondered how that would feel against your hot skin. the cool metal against your thighs while his head was between your legs teasing your cunt.
your legs pressed together again and gripped your knee with your hand. you didn’t realize a whimper had slipped out from your throat as your fingers drifted up your knee to raise the hem of your dress and make the skin of your thigh tingle.
you looked out the window hoping something could distract you from the ache between your legs and the hot guy in the front seat. you never felt his eyes floating to you through the rearview mirror, or the way he scanned you, watching the way your leg bounced and your dress rode up your soft thighs.
he could tell you weren’t being funny with your horny comment. you were on the edge of your seat needing to be touched. he wondered what you thought about maybe him touching you, fingers trailing over your skin making you twitch beneath him. now he was working himself up and letting his mind wander. he shook his head concentrating back on the road instead of your panties peeking out as the dress rose even more.
one little touch won’t hurt, right? just something to press against your pulsing core. you side-eye haechan to see him focusing on the road so you let your hand slide further up your leg. using your nondominant hand hopefully to deter you from flicking your wrist like you liked. each touch feels like something deeper and more intimate than normal, the slide of your fingers before they touch the fabric of your panties has your breath hitching.
the panties feel so soft and delicate and so damp and hot practically dripping in your arousal. your chest was almost heaving when you pressed your fingers against your center. you could feel your clit pulsing under your touch but the pressure of your digits wasn’t enough to relieve it.
haechan was still peeking back at you, gawking when your hand slipped between your legs as you leaned your forehead against the car window, your breath fogging the glass. he could feel his jeans growing tighter when you finally rocked your hips ever so slightly. he wanted to watch you, stare at you while you ground against your hand, but he was driving and he had to get you to your destination safely.
once you started moving you couldn’t stop yourself letting your hips do the work bucking perfectly against your fingers. the hot ache between your legs only felt like it was growing. chasing the relief you knew you would get when you just let yourself have it, legs shaking, the mind-numbing orgasm you craved. but you were in the back of haechan’s car so you stopped moving and huff against the window resting your forehead on the cool glass taking some of the heat from you.
taking a minute to breathe, moving your hand far away from between your legs you try to collect yourself. what the fuck were you doing? trying to get off in the back of an uber like a weird porn intro. then your mind started drifting to porn - no. focus. no dirty nasty porn brain.
“you good?” your eyes almost bulge out of your head. had he seen you? did he know you were getting freaky in his back seat?
“yeah just, yeah,” you mumble, still a little brain foggy. you look up to see him staring back at you in the rearview his eyes are darker but still as sweet as ever.
“your temp okay?” you nod knowing he can see you but still mutter a yes as your head lulls on the headrest.
“there’s a lot of traffic tonight, might take longer than normal,” he mentioned and you groan in response making him smirk to himself. it only made you want to cry. you can’t wait much longer you’re already trying to cum in the car and now there’s traffic. a cruel and unusual world to live in.
“it’ll be okay, baby, i’ll get you home safe,” he says, reaching his hand back to pat your knee. you felt like you were on fire from his pet name switching to baby and the skin-to-skin contact. you wanted him to slide his hand higher and touch you where you needed it.
you pout while you whimper mostly to yourself and grip the hem of your dress now suddenly aware of how it lays almost at your hip exposing so much skin. you don’t even recognize your hands lingering, smoothing over the fabric you relax into the feeling. closing your eyes leaning back and your hands move on their own.
it doesn’t even feel like your hands that are pulling your panties to the side letting the cool air hit your heat. your other hand finally making contact and making you sigh at the touch. your fingers swirling around your pulsing clit collecting the slick that's filled your panties. you can already feel yourself getting close, the touch finally providing what you need.
you don’t notice the boy in the driver's seat staring back at you through the mirror watching the way your face twists and mouth falls open as you flick your wrist. he’s almost drooling seeing your cunt glisten as you bring yourself closer. he watches closely but still flicks his eyes back to the road catching your hole flutter and begging to be filled.
he brings his hand to palm his jeans matching your timing, but he wants you. needs to feel you around him while he fills you up. he can only imagine the way you would wrap around him perfectly. but he can't, he really can't, you're his sweet little frequent rider who gives him the best reviews. but also you’re in his back seat cunt dripping onto his leather seats. what’s a man to do?
your hand isn’t enough so your hips start to buck against your fingers slipping and sliding against your clit and your hole. you want to slip your fingers inside and fill yourself but you need to be fast don’t savor the moment just get off.
suddenly you remember you aren’t so alone and you flutter your eyes open and see him staring back. it makes your breath hitch when you make eye contact through the mirror but you’re in too deep to stop. you almost want to go harder with how his dark eyes stare into you unapologetically looking down at your pussy.
“can you pull over,” you almost whimper and he looks back at you expression flipping between dark to concerned. wondering if you’re going to beat him up or if you want more like he does. but he doesn’t hesitate to go down a side road and find a parking lot for some privacy. he can see your fingers still moving in his peripheral vision.
when he finally pulls in and parks you waste no time unbuckling before leaning forward to tug his sweater and attach your lips to his. he doesn’t wait to reciprocate, pressing hungrily into you. his lips are just as soft as they looked at the cool metal of his piercing had your head spinning.
“is this okay?” you pull back breathing heavily and staring up at him.
“so much more than okay,” he responds, smirking over at you, and you smile back tugging his collar and making him scramble out of his seat clumsily crawling into the back with you making you laugh. you tug him to you again gripping the soft knit of his sweater as your lips find him again.
you push him to sit back but follow his lips keeping you attached to him before straddling his lap. the ripped denim covering his leg is pressing against your core and his hands are kneading your hips over your dress, but you want him closer. you grind into him and whimper into his mouth and his tongue chases your lips lapping up at them.
“more,” you whine and his hands grip your hips tighter, rocking you against his leg.
“so needy,” he breathes, sitting back to look at you with heavy eyes. your eyes are closed but you can feel him staring at you and each move you make. you lift the hem of your dress pulling it up to reveal your panties to him and the source of your moans.
he groans leaning forward to kiss your neck as his hands slide over your exposed flesh. fingers grazing under the waist of your panties, snapping them against your skin. his hands keep you from moving against him as fast as you want to and it’s frustrating but his tongue suckles your neck distracting you.
“slow down, pretty, let me make you feel good,” he whispers against your skin before blowing cool air against your neck, making you shiver.
“need more,” you whimper, but his hands slow you down before stopping you with a pout on your face. he smirks up at you before kissing your lips and turning to lay you back against the seat.
he presses against you, his body encompassing you and you feel him all around. one hand holding himself up on the seat and the other gripping your thigh fingers smoothing the skin as his lips desperately meet yours.
his lips mold to yours and you whimper against him opening your mouth to slip your tongue out sliding over his lips. he chases your tongue sucking it into his mouth. the sucking sounds filling his backseat as your saliva mixes and smears against your mouths. and you love it the messy and needy way he kisses you feels so raw and real.
your breathing is heavy in his mouth and so is his. he releases your lips letting his wet mouth roam down your face to your neck licking against the warm skin and your hands comb through his hair clinging to the strands. he's flipping your dress up again gripping higher on your thigh.
“touch me,” you whine, grabbing his wrist and moving it to graze your panties. you hear and feel him groan, vibrating against your neck making you shiver. he doesn’t hesitate to do what you say, gripping your panties and sliding them down before pulling away to fully remove them.
“fuck you’re soaked,” he moans lifting your soiled panties and swirling them around his finger to tease you.
“shut up,” you groan, covering your face with your hands but your lower half is still completely exposed to him.
“stop you’re fucking cute,” he pulls your hands away staring down at you. “can i keep these?” he smirks, nodding to the panties.
“only if you do something in the next 5 seconds,” you whine at him bucking your hips for something. he just coos down at you teasing your neediness, but he touches you, fingers pressing into your thighs dragging closer to your core. you don’t see him toss your panties into the front seat.
“you’re so fucking needy. can’t believe you were getting off in my backseat.” you mewl at his words you can’t deny it. “so fucking wet.” he whispers fingers touching your cunt and making you twitch. his fingers slide over you collecting the juices dripping out of you before bringing his fingers up in front of his face scissoring them curiously staring at the slick clinging to his digits and it only makes u more embarrassed.
“what’s got you shy? you weren’t shy earlier with your hand down your panties.” he teases before swirling his tongue around his fingers staring right at you while he does it. you try to avoid his eye contact as he tastes you on his digits.
“hmm? what is it, pretty?” you shake your head as he leans closer to you licking at your lips while his spit-covered fingers slip between you and find your core again. your mouth falls open when he uses a finger to fill you up. he watches you intently the way you try to close your mouth and bite your lip but he stops you licking over your mouth distracting you.
“don’t be quiet. let me hear you.” you nod harshly in response, moaning when his finger curls inside of you. you want more, you need more.
“more haechan, please,” you plead looking up at him and bucking your hips against him.
“huh? can't hear you.” you want to roll your eyes but you want him to fill you up more.
“more need more of you please.” you croak louder this time and he doesn’t waste time adding another finger making your legs tremble when his digits immediately curl inside of you. he leans back between your legs watching the way your cunt swallows his fingers. his hand that was holding him up is pressing your thigh backward showing you to him completely.
“so fucking pretty, take it so well yeah?” he coos staring down at you watching the way your mouth is open and fingers slide over your lips. his fingers are moving skillfully inside of you and his thumb swirls over your clit.
“is good. so good,” you manage breath caught in your throat you haven’t felt so good in so long. the pleasure taking over and swirling in your stomach tightening with each thrust.
“yeah, pretty? gonna cum huh?” his words make you cry so close to the edge. “tell me.”
“so close.” you whimper, grabbing his sleeve and tugging him to you. he’s sucking your neck instantly, keeping his hand thrusting into you.
“cum, pretty girl,” he says, and you can’t stop letting the knot in your stomach release as you do. arching into him as he works you through it, releasing on his hand and the seat beneath you. your legs close around him but he doesn’t stop until you're pulling on the hair at his nape.
he pulls away looking down between you dipping his fingers into the mess you made.
“you’re a squirter? cute,” you shake your head and want to melt into the seat. since when are you a squirter? “liar, you made such a mess.” he teases before leaning down to lick over your cunt.
“nuhuh, so much,” you whine, pushing his head away but he just smirks up at you, swirling his tongue lower to collect you on his tongue.
“you just taste so fucking good.”
“wanna taste you,” you say boldly leaning up and catching him off guard. your hands find their way to his belt fiddling with the leather.
“want to be inside you.” he counters, staring back at you gripping your wrist.
“please just-“ he cuts you off with a kiss and releases your wrist letting you unbuckle his belt and quickly tug his zipper. his lips are distracting you but you try to push him backwards to give you room to settle between his legs.
you take his clothed length in your hands and leave wet opened mouth kisses while looking at him to see his reactions. he’s staring down at you, one hand laying over his stomach and the other resting on his thigh. you sit back on your heels pulling his waistband down to let his cock slap against his stomach.
you don’t waste time leaning back down to take him in your mouth. he’s hot and heavy on your tongue and it makes you squeeze your legs together at the idea of him inside of you. you swirl your tongue and take the rest of him in your hands pumping his length.
“so pretty with my cock in your mouth,” he whispers, fingers pushing your hair out of your face mainly to see your eyes while you swallow around him. you push your head down to take even more of him hearing him groan and his fingers curl into your scalp.
“take me so well,” he moans, legs shaking beside your head when you moan around him. you want him to fuck your face but you decide not to ask maybe that’s too much for the back seat with your uber driver.
“fuck fuck fuck,” he says trying to push you off of him. you release him with a pop smiling up at him spit sliding down your chin.
“what?” you giggle at him using the back of your hand to swipe at the saliva.
“you’re a fucking minx,” he grins back before dragging you to him to kiss you again. he brings you close to him pulling you onto his lap you whine when you feel his cock against your folds.
“do you have protection?” he asks looking over at you.
“i’m clean but i have some,” you lean back, grabbing your long-forgotten bag.
“i’m clean too but,” he trails off when you lift the packet and tear it open. hurriedly you take it out and slide it down his length making him sigh.
“just fuck my brains out please,” you look at him with doe eyes before kissing him and lifting over his length before pressing it to your hole. you moan in unison as you sink down onto him, filling you up.
“so fucking tight,” he groans as his fingers dig into the skin of your hips. you’re speechless you feel so full and overwhelmed you can barely move just have him inside of you.
“you good?” he asks, grabbing your cheeks to look at him and you nod. “tell me.” he doesn’t demand this time asking softly for you to tell him how you feel.
“so good i can’t think. ‘m so full,” you whimper, falling into his chest and you can almost tell he’s smiling when he soothes over your back and coos at you.
“poor baby,” he coos, thrusting into you. “too much?” you whine and he bucks again. “can't take my fat cock can you?” you shake your head and he thrusts with each word punctuating it.
“ha- chan,” you mewl, lips pressing into his neck. he reaches around you holding you up as he lays you back again. his hair falls in his face as he leans over you thrusting into you deeply. he keeps his pace slow but steady, not letting you miss a single drag of his cock inside of you.
he kisses the side of your open mouth before sitting up between you moving his hands to press your thighs against your chest. he stared down at the way your cunt swallows his length with each thrust completely sucking him in.
“take me so fucking well,” he groans and you feel tears slipping down your face. “letting your little uber driver fuck you such a dirty whore.”
“hyuck,” you whine, slipping from the space.
“who?” he stops his movements staring down at you. you can see he’s trying not to break but his teasing eyes almost give him away.
“haechan, harder,” you whisper, he grins at you following your instructions. deepening each stroke and pushing you into the seat.
“like that, baby?” you nod sloppily and feel the familiar feeling coming back, the sweet release so close you can almost taste it. haechan notices bringing his finger to swirl around your clit.
“pretty baby, gonna cum on my cock?” he moans looking down at you.
“so close,” you whimper back, gripping his arm tighter. he moves his arm from your grasp to lock your fingers together as he plunges into you.
“gonna let your uber driver fuck you and have you a dirty mess in his backseat, huh? little slutty thing just fucking anyone.” his filthy words are all it takes to have you clenching tightly around him mumbling incoherently as you cum. he groans at the way your pussy squeezes around him and grips him so tight.
“cum on me,” you whisper to him, head still full of pleasure but you know he’s close to his own.
“so nasty.” he groans, his hand still holding yours and the other still grips your thigh, bruising the supple flesh. you slip your hand between you pulling the condom off in one motion just as he releases, coating your messy cunt with hot white cum. “fuck.”
he slides his cock against your cunt smearing his cum and letting it mix with yours as you both catch your breath. you look down between your legs watching him grinding his cock against your clit seeing the mess you’d made.
“you’re such a freak.” he chuckles looking up at you, catching you staring.
“shut up,” you whine trying to cover your face again but he doesn’t let you. gripping your wrists and kissing you tenderly.
“we gotta divulge in your little kinks more often baby. you’re so filthy.” you want to look away because it feels like he’s staring through you.
“you’re still my uber driver, remember?” you tease him.
“oh sorry miss, we’re definitely going to have a late arrival.”
“hyuck,” you whine trying to push him away.
“you slipped with that earlier baby, so cute.” he teases again, reaching over to the glove box to grab some napkins.
“it’s hard not calling you that. you’re my hyuck,” you pout at him.
“i know and you’re my filthy slutty whorish girlfriend,” he grins mischievously, but still diligently cleaning you both up.
“and so are you.”
“i’m keeping the panties by the way.”
“like you haven’t already stolen 10 other pairs.” you roll your eyes playfully.
“it’s because i’m disgustingly obsessed with you.”
©️ tddyhyck
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astroismypassion · 4 months
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Astrology observations 🎉🧡🎉
Credit goes to @astroismypassion
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🎉Sun conjunct Saturn in Synastry chart is great if you are an Earth Sun or have Saturnian, Uranian influence. But you can find it quite restrictive and controlling if you are a Water Sun sign.
🎉 If you are born during Waning Crescent Moon phase, you are likely passionate and hard-working, but you often feel restricted by your own emotions. You feel like they are holding you back sometimes when you want to take action and achieve in more things.
🎉I think you can really end up struggling with long-distance partnership if you have Moon in the 1st house Synastry with someone. This is this one overlay that I think really requires for the both of you to cuddle, hug as much as possible and to see each other often since it create emotional connection for the two of you and you feel emotionally stable, satisfied and content.
🎉If you are the Mars person in the 8th house Synastry, you really gotta be mindful of not draining the 8th house person, especially their resources, items or finances.
🎉I think it is not said enough how Virgo Venus and Venus in the 6th house change for their partner as well not just Virgo Venus/Venus in the 6th house native wanting to change their partner. They are an Earth Venus, much like Taurus Venus, they are accomodating (even Capricorn Venus if they truly like you), they want to see you comfortable.
🎉People with Taurus over the 5th house really see shopping, going to the grocery store as a workout. They love just go into a store and window shop or buy little things. It's one of the favourite activities to do when they have free time or a day off. Their hobbies could also include leisure walks in the nature, going to the market, arts and crafts, watching films, eating sweets or indulging their sweet tooth in any other way, baking and cooking. They get so much joy from doing these things.
🎉Mars in the 12th house in Synastry screams missed opportunities. You might often run into each other without talking, speaking or interacting with one another. You might just be constantly thrown into each other's energy by the universe. You might formally introduce to each other much later in the connection.
🎉 The native who has Sagittarius Lilith or Lilith in the 9th house in the Natal chart might marry a college dropout or at least partner up with them (committed partnership).
🎉Mars in the 7th house overlay in Synastry chart is either you two have personalities with slight differences or different lifestyles, habits, way of doing things, behaviours, mannerisms and how you act, take action.
🎉 Pisces Moon natives are prone to fake cry in front of other people or they exaggerate the crying in front of another person. They are numbing themselves out usually when they actually feel like they are starting to cry in front of someone. These people always cry and process properly their feeling when left on their own alone, therefore never in front of another person.
🎉 In Synastry in Moon in the 6th house overlay, the house person might make more money than the Moon person.
🎉When you have your Saturn in someone's 1st house or aspecting their Ascendant, you are this person's mentor, guide. They teach from you a lot.
🎉With someone's Ascendant falling into your 8th house in a Synastry chart there was a sexual undertone to your meeting or in early stages of getting to know each other. You could have even seen this person's body or they wore very tight, fitted clothing. But other than physical appearance, this is a very deeply emotionally transformative connection. This overlay reminds me of Prince William seeing Princess Catherine in sheer dress during college fashion show.
🎉I noticed that whenever someone has Aquarius Mercury in a Natal chart they really crave a partner that is their intellectual equal. That's why they love other Air signs, such as Gemini or Libra Mercury or even yet another Aquarius Mercury. They have hard time feeling like a person with Cancer Mercury or Pisces Mercury is their intellectual equal.
🎉You feel incredibly supported when someone's Moon falls on your North Node and vice versa. There is soulmate vibe to this connection and you basically feel "nurtured" into the right direction where you are going. So it's very supportive, sweet, caring and nurturing overlay.
Credit goes to @astroismypassion
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hitomisuzuya · 8 months
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Catboy! Scaramouche x fem!reader Smut. Scenting. Breeding. Possessive behavior. A dash of Somnophilia. Catboy!Scara in heat. Choking. Some humor. Yandere!Scaramouche
I know I should be working on requests, but I have always wanted to try my hand at writing something like this. It's never a bad thing to expand one's horizons. I may end up making it a series.
You found Scaramouche injured and starving on your way home one day. You couldn't bear to leave him out in the rain in pain with no food, so you took him home with you. He hissed a little a you when you picked him up, and wrapped him in your jacket.
With some bristling from him, you got his leg bandaged and got him dried off. He turned his nose up anything you gave him to eat. He seemed to have a sensor for anything bought cheap at the grocery store. He finally found tuna that was on the more expensive side, and some warm milk suitable.
You stayed up all night with Scaramouche, reading to him. He lay curled up on one of your pillows on the other end of the bed. You were patient with him, since it seemed like he had been through a lot, and it was typical for cats to be stand offish to begin with.
You didn't fall asleep until he did. When you opened your eyes the next day, you saw that he had moved a little closer to you on the bed, peering curiously at you. He scampered backwards on the bed the second you woke up.
You affectionately named him Scarameow, to which he hissed at, but gradually accepted. You nursed the grumpy ball of fluff back to health. You noticed that little by little, he peered around corners, glaring at you, getting a little closer to you everyday.
Until one day, he hoped up on the couch while you were watching TV. He curled up in a ball next to you, and you swore you could hear purring for a few moments.
You hesitantly reached out to pet him. Usually, he fought you every step of the way when you wanted to show him affection, hissing at you and clawing at your hands. Sometimes he stayed in your lap for a little bit of time.
He hissed quietly at you before accepting your touch. He even seemed to like it because he moved his head into your hand. That night, he hoped up on the bed with you, deciding he wanted to fall asleep with you that night.
One day, you heard him meowing, motioning up at your bookshelf with his paw. "You want me to read to you?" You asked, to which he flicked his tail..and nodded? You thought it was funny how he even seemed to pick the book. It was the book you'd read to him from the first night you brought him home.
After that, Scaramouche started acting different around you. He was distant, avoiding you whenever he possibly could. You see, his rut was approaching and he'd accidentally walked into your room while you were changing.
You hardly saw him for two or three days.
One day, you came home to hear husky moans coming from the living room. You were startled to discover that your grumpy purple cat was nowhere to be found, but a boy with cat ears and a tail.
He laying on the couch, fisting his cock while he rutted into his hand. You could see layers of cum on his hand. His ears flattened instantly when he saw you. "Shit!" He cursed, hissing as he leapt up off the couch.
He went back into his cat form, darting off into the spare bedroom he always hide from you in. You now discovered that you didn't have a cat, but a hybrid, who grumbled that his name was Scaramouche when he came out of hiding, dressed in clothes that you didn't know where they came from.
Scaramouche had been up to things when you weren't home. He was scenting your clothes and your bed sheets with his scent. And in the middle of the night, in his cat form, he was scenting you while you slept. It wasn't long before he started sleeping next you in his human form, holding you curled against his chest.
He'd done nothing but jack himself off to thoughts of you naked when you weren't in the house. He would rub your panties on his cock, his indigo eyes squeezed shut as he fantasized about pinning you underneath him and fucking you full of his cum.
Your scent was starting to overwhelm him, you didn't know that you were walking around smelling like him. You were his. You shouldn't want to leave him alone when you went out. He started protesting when you told him you had to go out, and he insisted on going with you.
The night you told him you were going to animal sanctuary see a fox, Scaramouche got especially grumpy. He hated that you were going there, hated that you might be bringing another hybrid home.
He avoided you the entire time when you got back home. He crawled into bed with you after you fell asleep. He scented you, pumping his cock between your thighs, making sure his cum got on the insides of your thighs and near your cunt.
Scaramouche knew he couldn't keep doing this forever, you were sure to wake up during it. He'd come dangerously close to fucking you while you slept, itching to claw at and bite into your skin and mark you up as much as possible.
He had to do something. You were accepting and even seemed to like it the few times he'd gotten handsy with you in small fits of lust that he couldn't hold back, biting your lips swollen when he kissed you. He hadn't been able to stop his hands from roaming over your body.
Scaramouche never forgot the feeling of you shivering from his touches for the first time.
When being around you during his rut became too much to bear, Scaramouche pinned you against the wall, grinding against you as he licked up your neck. "Let me fuck you, let me breed you," He groaned, fighting the urge to tear off your clothes as he grinded his throbbing cock between your legs, "I don't think I can hold myself back anymore."
He enjoyed reducing you to a moaning, drooling mess underneath him, your fingernails clawing into his back. He fucked his cock so deep into you your eyes rolled into the back of your head.
His teeth ground and sucked dark bruises onto your skin, his fingers pressing more bruises just as deep possessively on your body.
Scaramouche hissed angrily when your hand reached out to pull one of his ears, a knee jerk reaction to your walls clamping tight around his cock as he kissed it deep into your sweet spot. His ears were always sensitive, his cock throbbing from having his ear pulled. "You slut," He wrapped his hand around your throat, squeezing until you squirted on his cock.
His body shuddered in pleasure when he cummed inside of you. After fucking his cum inside of you, he licked you clean, eating you out until you were babbling and begging to cum inside of you again.
"What a cock drunk slut you are, you want to be bred that badly, hm?" Scaramouche gave your clit a few long sicks before he flipped you over, tugging your hips up to push his cock back inside of you.
During the rest of his heat, Scaramouche kept you isolated from everyone else, fucking you sometimes from hours in fits of frenzied lust.
As the day of when the fox hybrid was supposed to be coming home with you, he got especially aggressive and dominant with you while he was fucking you. It was already driving him crazy how you were starting to smell like the fox hybrid whom he'd heard you call Childe.
Imagine your surprise when one day, Scaramouche turned up with two other hybrids that looked nearly identical to him. They were named Wanderer and Kunikuzushi.
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My Heart is Yours
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Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader
Words: 6.3k
Warnings: extreme fluff, maybe a tiny bit of angst? tension? this is just very fluffy because he needs it
Synopsis: It's Simon's birthday and somethings changed between you two...
Link to The Roommate Series Masterlist
You are currently reading part 2 of “The Roommate Series”
You were up earlier than normal two days in a row but this time you had woken up on your own. Usually on the weekends you slept in, enjoying the fact that you didn't have to go to class or do work, dozing in and out of sleep as you listened to your roommate go through his morning before you joined him. However, this weekend was different than most and it was hard for you to want to stay in bed.
For one, Simon was home. You have gone through many weekends without him, so when he was here it was hard for you to justify staying in bed when you wanted to spend time with him. You learned very quickly that you could never take the time spent with him for granted, not when he might be called back into work randomly and then you’d be left alone again. 
Truthfully it was a double edge sword. The more time you spent with him the harder it was to watch him leave but that was the price to pay when you let yourself get attached to a man who disappeared for months.
Another reason was because it was Simon’s birthday.
You were honestly more excited about it than he was. To him, his birthday was just another day but to you it was a day to make things right, to make things better from the vague stories he gave you about the way he grew up.
It was also a chance to have fun with him and to just relax. You didn’t pass up on those opportunities.
You had plans for dinner before you both got drunk off whiskey and any other alcohol you had in your fridge to watch movies. You also still had to make him a cake but more importantly you still had to wrap the gift you had gotten him.
The door to your room was closed but you still glanced at it as if Simon would appear out of thin air before you pulled his gift out from underneath your bed. 
In your hand was a travel sized joke book, one that had the really bad puns and dad jokes in it but it was the only thing that you could think of to get him that he would actually use. Even if you knew a lot about your roommate, he was difficult to shop for because he had everything he already needed and never thought about what he wanted.
“Just tell me something to get you!” You begged as you both walked through the aisles of the grocery store yesterday.
“I don’t want anything.” He shrugged and you huffed. 
“If you don’t tell me I’m going to get you something you won’t like.”
“I’m sure I’ll live.”
Simon would never tell you but it really didn't matter what you got him for his birthday. He would like whatever you got him because if it was something from you he’d cherish it until he died.
You opened the front of the book to make sure the birthday card you got him was still in there before you heard Simon walk past your room. You somehow had woken up before him and you listened to him shut the door to the bathroom before you let out a short breath.
You put the book back underneath your bed and got dressed. You tried to curb your excitement and instead worked through your head to come up with a plan to get him out of the apartment.
Even though he knew what you had planned you still wanted to act as if it was a surprise.
You left your room once you were dressed and made your way to the bathroom, noting that the door was cracked open for you. It was part of the routine you both had set up when he was home and happened to be in the bathroom when you had to get ready for class.
“Happy birthday!” You swung the door open and stood in the doorway with a grin.
Simon was brushing his teeth but gave you a grunt that sounded like a ‘thank you’. He seemed to have just woken up; his blond hair was tousled from sleep and he stared at you with bleary eyes. He was also still in his pajamas which consisted of just sweatpants since the man was practically a space heater and couldn’t wear a shirt to sleep. 
His entire upper body was covered in scars that you were sure had stories to them. It was uncommon for you to see them but sometimes you got a glimpse which struck something deep within your chest. However, right now you were just happy that he truly didn’t have any new scars. 
There was something strangely domestic about the sight of him brushing his teeth while you stood watching him. It felt like something that was meant to be, something that was natural to the apartment and to you both. It warmed your chest, softening the grin as it settled into you again that he was truly back home.
“I see you slept well.” You said and he didn’t have the heart to disagree. “Feel any older?”
“Pass.” He grumbled after he spit into the sink and washed out the fluoride with water.
You giggled and watched him begin to wash his face, unbothered by your presence. You were still running through ideas in your head about how to get rid of him for a few hours before you decided to play the safe route.
“What’re your plans today?” You wondered, trying to not sound suspicious.
“Get drunk and watch movies.” He reminded you and you hummed in response.
“You mean you don’t have anything else planned?”
He turned the water off and patted his face dry with a towel, turning to you with a suspicious look in his eyes when he was finished. It only worsened when you gave him a smile and he let out a long sigh from his chest. 
“You want me out of the flat.” He stated and you decided that it was time to be truthful.
“Just for a few hours.” You gave him a sheepish smile when he sent you an annoyed look. “It’d do you good to go out.”
“I went out yesterday.”
A soft huff left your mouth as you watched him hang the towel back up and he raised his eyebrows expectantly. You knew that it would’ve been hard to get him out the apartment, he was a homebody who practically confined himself to four walls when he was home. It never bothered you but right now you wished he at least had the motivation to go outside.
“You could go visit your friends?” You suggested even though in your entire time living with him you’d never seen or heard about him having any.
“No.” He didn’t hesitate and you sent him a look.
“At least think about it, geez.”
Simon smiled, it was small but it brightened your mood immensely, as he ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to tame it. It had gotten longer since he was gone, the longest you had seen it, and he pulled on a few of the strands to test the length. He didn’t look bad with it that long in your opinion but you assumed by the way he was staring at it through the mirror with intense concentration that he wanted it to be a shorter length. 
“I can pay for your haircut.”
“I prefer cutting my own hair.”
You groaned from his difficultness, not annoyed but you had hoped this would go easier. You weren’t sure if he was doing it on purpose to toy with you or if he genuinely didn’t want to leave the apartment. In hindsight, you couldn’t really blame him since he had gotten back yesterday and most likely just wanted to sit around and enjoy not having to be at his job.
Simon made his way over to you and leaned against the doorframe, his tired eyes staring down at you with confusion as he crossed his arms. Up this close, it was really hard to deny just how big he was and it took everything in you to not stare super long at him.
He seemed to have gained more muscle since you had last seen him and yet he hadn’t thinned down much either. Whatever he did for his job made him physically fit and you wondered if that was the reason why he always ate so much.
Not that you were complaining.
His eyes softened as you made eye contact and they bounced around your face as he leaned forward ever so slightly, making it so there was only a few inches between the two of you.
You were prepared for him to stare at you for a long time before he spoke.
“Why do you want to surprise me if I know what you’re doing?” He wondered and continued to stare at you as if he could read your mind.
“You don’t know everything.” You teased and his eyebrows knitted together. “Like the gift I got you.”
Simon’s eyes widened slightly and he stood up, causing you to bite back a few giggles. He tried to hide his excitement but you could see it in the way his eyes had brightened and his usual serious face had gotten happier just at the mention of a gift. 
It was cute, you couldn’t help but look at him with a warm chest as it was almost like looking at a kid who was just told they’d get ice cream.
“You got me something?” He sounded surprised it made you smile more.
“Mhm.” You nodded and he seemingly held his breath in anticipation. “But you’re not allowed to have it until after we have cake.”
You watched him deflate with slight disappointment before his eyes shot over to your room. You immediately knew what he was thinking about and you sent him a warning look that you hoped would deter him from even daring to search through your room for his gift.
Even if the dinner and the cake wasn’t a surprise, you wanted to keep his present a secret because you were honestly a little worried it wasn’t good enough and you still wanted to have the time to be able to potentially get something different for him.
“Okay, let’s compromise.” You said, trying to get him to forget about the gift, and continued when he looked back at you. “After lunch you leave while I make the cake and then you can come back once I start making dinner.”
Simon thought it over for a moment before he nodded. 
“I’ll help you make dinner.” He added but you shook your head.
“You’re not supposed to help, it’s your birthday.”
“It’s my birthday so I get to do what I want.”
You gasped and stared at him with shock, watching as a triumphant smile stretched across his face. Of course he would figure out a way to use your own arbitrary rules against you for his benefit. You were honestly surprised he hadn’t thought to do it earlier but maybe he was waiting for the right opportunity to catch you off guard.
He was smart, too smart to fall for you silly rules and play along with you.
You pursed your lips together as he looked down at you. You pretended to be offended, giving him a fake glare that couldn’t even be mistaken for anger as you fought back a smile.
“Oh, you think you’re so clever.” You poked him on the chest and watched him tense up slightly before he leaned more into your space.
“I do.”
You scoffed, shaking your head slightly as you placed your hands on your hips. You narrowed your eyes at him, watching as amusement twinkled in his eyes. You focused hard on them, knowing that if you didn’t you would be too enticed by the fact that you could smell the fresh mint on his breath that made you dare to think about what it would be like to press a kiss to his lips in this moment. How you could easily take his face into your hands and run your fingers across the blond stubble on his cheeks, tracing every scar that peppered his otherwise clear skin. 
Instead you looked into his dark brown eyes, finding that you were practically swallowed up in the color of bitter coffee and earth. A void of hidden emotions and an exhaustion that seemed to always plague him yet there was comfort within them expanse of darkness. There was warmth that blanketed you as you stared into his eyes, a sense of safety and stability that you couldn’t find anywhere else, only within the confines of the man who stood in front of you.
It was almost too much, too intense to be looking into his eyes like this. Normally you couldn’t do it for longer than a few seconds but doing so now made you feel almost dizzy, like he was taking the air from your lungs for himself.
And yet couldn’t get enough of him. He could be melded inside of you, his entire soul could be mixed with yours and it still wouldn’t be enough.
“Fine.” You cleared your throat when you noticed that your voice was shaking slightly. “You can help but just remind yourself that it’s your birthday.”
“Fine.” He playfully rolled his eyes before he gently pushed you back. “Go. I need to take a shower.”
“You brush your teeth before a shower? Weirdo.”
Simon sent you a look, still with the hint of playfulness, before he shut the door and it was as if you could breathe again. You stared at the door, taking in the moment you just had with him before the shower turning on shook you out of your thoughts.
You glanced at the door one more time before you moved towards the kitchen to make some breakfast.
~
Shooting whiskey has never been easy for you. The brown liquid burned your throat and settled in your chest long enough to give you an unpleasant shiver throughout your entire body. It was hard to keep back the water in your eyes and the cough as you downed a shot, chasing that funny feeling that made the world spin and everything a lot less stressful.
You had your own drink but you couldn’t deny Simon when he offered the last three shots of whiskey to you, finding that he could be persuasive when he wanted to be.
Both of you sat on the couch in front of the tv, some kind of movie that Simon hadn’t seen was playing in the background but it had been quickly abandoned after the last few shots. Instead of watching, both of you were preoccupied with each other, talking about everything that you could. 
Well, you were doing most of the talking in between shots and sips of a mixed drink while Simon listened. He sipped on his second glass of whiskey but would occasionally join you for a shot when he felt like he was behind you with how drunk you already were.
He wasn’t sure if it was because he was taking it slow and you weren’t or because he was a heavy drinker, but he definitely knew you were having more fun during his birthday than he was. He was too focused on you to really care anyway. You took up the room, demanding his attention and he happily gave it to you without hesitation or protest.
You took another shot, your vision of the world already spinning but you were having too much fun to really notice, and shivered once more. The effects of the alcohol weren't enough to take the bitter taste away just yet.
A smile pulled at the corner of Simon’s lips and he scoffed, getting your attention as you sent him a look through watery eyes.
“Lightweight.” He teased as he took another sip, completely unbothered.
“Shut up, you’re not even drunk.” You slurred and set the shot glass down on the coffee table. “You’re like a mountain.”
“I’m drunk.”
You gave him a suspicious look, one that was over exaggerated due to how drunk you were but it made him smile more nonetheless. 
That should’ve been enough for you to know that he was drunk, since he didn’t give out big cheesy smiles like you did. His cheeks were dusted pink and his tired eyes hungry just a little bit heavier, a haze over them as he stared at you with a dopey look as if he couldn’t quite understand what you were saying but he hung onto every word. He looked content, there wasn’t an ounce of stress left even in his usual tense shoulders as his body subconsciously leaned towards yours, almost as if he was hovering over you.
You were sure you looked just as drunk as he did, if not more, and yet he looked at you with bright eyes that bounced around your face often.
“You are!” You laughed and he attempted to hide the smile behind his hand. “Can’t hold your liquor that good.”
“Better than you.” He took another sip and you playfully cussed him out.
You ran a hand over your face and glanced around the room, noting that it had gotten dark outside. Your eyebrows knitted together and you wondered how long it had been since you both sat down after dinner to watch movies, thinking that only an hour or two had passed until you checked the time on your phone.
“Shit! We haven’t done cake yet.” You exclaimed when you saw that it was close to midnight.
“So?” Simon raised an eyebrow as you shot up from your spot on the couch.
“You have to have cake on your birthday.”
You tried your best to not stumble into the kitchen, failing at doing so but thankfully you didn’t fall flat on your face. You were extra careful when getting the cake out of the fridge despite the fact that you were in a rush, making sure that when you placed it on the counter to put the candles on, nothing was in the way. 
It was a small cake since you knew that Simon probably would only eat a few slices from it over the week before he was over the sweetness. On top of the icing, almost perfectly written since you were adamant to make it look pretty even though you knew he wouldn’t care, were the words “Happy Birthday Simon”. You placed a few candles around the words, making sure they wouldn’t touch the letters before you carried it into the living room.
You were focused on keeping the cake balanced, not noticing the way Simon’s eyes had softened greatly when you walked into the room and set it in front of him.
“I need your lighter.” You opened your palm urgently.
“You’re gonna burn yourself.” Simon protested with a serious look on his face but you waved him off.
“I won’t! Hurry before it turns midnight.”
Simon hesitantly dug his lighter out of his pocket and handed it to you, watching you intently as you lit the candles, making sure that if you burned yourself he would quickly get you to a sink. However you handed him back the lighter without harming yourself and positioned the cake in front of him properly.
You sat down beside him, your knees touching as you looked between him and the cake. A giddy feeling sprung up in your stomach and you wiggled in your spot excitedly watching Simon’s reaction carefully with clasped hands.
He stared down at the cake with soft eyes, the light from the small flames reflecting in them. They weren’t sad, but you noticed that there was a hint of something more melancholic hidden within his eyes that wasn’t there before until he read the writing. He pulled his hands into his lap almost as if he wasn’t sure what he should do before he hesitantly glanced your way.
You gave him a warm smile, one that signified that whatever he was thinking or feeling was okay, hoping that you didn’t go too far.
“Happy birthday, Simon.” You said softly and scooted close enough that now your thighs were touching.
Simon didn’t say anything but he continued to stare at you, eyes a range of emotion as they bounced around your face, stopping for a moment to look at your lips, until you gestured towards the cake.
“Make a wish.”
He rolled his eyes, a soft huff of amusement leaving his nose before he turned towards the cake and blew out the candles. A small smile pulled at his lips when you cheered and he watched as you stood up from the couch a lot more gracefully this time.
“Want a piece or do I have to eat this all on my own?” You teased and he nodded.
“Not a big one.”
You got plates and quickly cut a small piece out for him and for you. You waited for him to take a bite of it first, almost holding your breath as if this was the very moment that would break your entire ego about your baking skills.
Simon took a small bite of the cake and his eyes shut immediately.
“Fucking hell…” He muttered and your stomach sunk.
“What? Is it bad?” You asked him urgently as you gripped your plate so tight your fingers went sore.
“It’s good, really fucking good what did you put in this?”
Your eyes widened slightly and you felt your chest warm as you watched him eat the piece on his plate faster. You were sure if it was the alcohol making him like the sweetness but as soon as he finished the piece he had he went for another one. 
You smiled to yourself, taking a bit out of the cake on your plate. You hummed at the amazing flavors and felt proud of yourself as you eyed Simon.
“My undying desire to celebrate your birthday.”
“Piss off.”
You laughed, leaning into him enough to where you could hear him chuckle under his breath. The giddy feeling inside of you grew and you didn’t dare ignore it as you found yourself enjoying the closeness that you so rarely got with Simon, pushing yourself into his arm just a little more as you finished your piece of the cake.
Your chest warmed more when he leaned against you as if he liked the contact as well and your head fell to his shoulder, a content sigh leaving your chest as you reveled in his warmth. You noticed that he seemed to have gotten hot due to the alcohol and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, causing your eyes to jump down to the tattoo on his arm.
It was rare that you saw it since he often wore long sleeves and when he didn’t you never got a good look at it. You assumed that he didn’t want you to see it since every time you asked or he noticed you were staring at it, he would cover it up. Now, with the way you were sitting against him, he couldn’t see that you were staring at the ink unless he turned to look at you.
His tattoo was a lot more intricate than you had first thought, especially now as your eyes traced over the details in the ink designs. You knew he had a thing for skulls, since the mask he wore around you was the lower jaw of one, so it didn’t surprise you when you saw the skulls littered within the other designs. What did come as a surprise to you was that most of the tattoo was war imagery.
Guns, dog tags, a tank, and a literal military soldier etched into his skin made it less a coincidence and more a deliberate design. It made your eyebrows knit together and you fought the urge to grab his arm to look closer.
Was he military? The more you thought about it, the more it started to make sense with the evidence that you had. Going away for months, the guns, the paranoia and depressive episodes, the wounds, all of it paired with his tattoo made it seem obvious and yet there was one issue.
If he was military, then why didn’t he tell you?
It made you curious and yet wary of the answer. Truly, you didn’t want to know, not when he was so adamant to keep it from you, as if knowing would be something that you would regret. 
Besides, someone in his family could be military and despite your reservations about them from your limited knowledge, you weren’t going to be upset if he got a tattoo for them in their memory.
Simon seemed to have noticed that you were staring at it and he placed his large hand over it, covering it from your view and snapping you out of your daze. He looked down at you, his eyes the same as always except you could see that serious look in them, the one demanded you to not ask questions.
“You still have that gift for me or do I need to do somethin’ else for it?” He wondered and you smiled.
“Wait here.” You handed him your plate before you got up and rushed to your room.
You grabbed the joke book from under your bed and made sure that the wrapping was intact. You went to walk out of your room but hesitated a pit growing in your stomach as you stared down at the silly birthday wrapping paper.
Were you really about to give a guy who might be military a joke book? Suddenly you felt foolish, as if you had been caught doing something that you shouldn’t have and you debated on whether you should pretend it got damaged to get something different. It would save you the embarrassment of giving him a stupid book but it would probably disappoint him in the process. 
You could unwrap it and give him the card instead, but that would nearly be almost more of a let down than the actual gift.
A huff left you and tapped your fingers against the wrapping paper.
You should’ve just gotten him a generic gift that most men get, like a bottle opener or a pocket knife. At least that way he wouldn’t have been too disappointed.
“Still there?” Simon called out and your heart jumped to your throat.
“Yeah, couldn't find it for a sec.” You lied and took a deep breath before you stepped out of your room. 
If you got this over with then at least you could get him a different one later. You could always tell him it was a gag gift in an attempt to save yourself too much embarrassment but you felt that somehow Simon would see right through your lie.
You walked into the living room, holding the book close to you as if it were something precious and sat down further away from him this time, noticing that he always had pulled his sleeves down. You glanced up at him to see that he had the excited look in his eyes like he had earlier in the morning which made you even more nervous.
“You didn’t tell me what you wanted so if it’s bad, I’m sorry.” You prefaced and watched as he raised an eyebrow.
“You’re overthinking this.” He tried to assure you with his usual deadpan tone.
“Maybe…just don’t laugh if it’s that bad.”
“I won’t.”
You hesitantly outstretched the gift for him and watched as he gently took it from your hands. You chewed on your lip as you watched him inspect the wrapping on it before he began to tear it off, causing you to grip the couch underneath you. You were practically burning holes into his face when he finally took all of the wrapping off and looked at the cover of the book.
Simon's eyes lit up and it helped calm some of your nerves. 
“I wasn’t sure what you were allowed to have when you’re gone but I got it travel sized.” You explained and he glanced at you with a twinkle in his eyes.
“You like my jokes that much?” He seemed amused by the idea and when you nodded, he huffed a laugh.
“There’s a card in the front.”
Simon pulled the card out, a simple card with a dinosaur on the front that had “ur old” written on the front, and sent you a quick glare that made you snicker. He opened the card and raised an eyebrow at the twenty pounds that fell onto his lap.
“Nobody likes cards without money.” You shrugged and he picked up the note to inspect it. “Use it to get cigarettes or something pretty.”
“Something pretty.” He repeated with amusement. “Think a I need a pop of color?”
“It’d do you good I think.”
He grunted and looked at the card, his face falling when his eyes landed on the polaroid that was taped on the inside and the writing that was scrawled onto the blank space of the card. His sudden change in his expression made you fidget with your fingers as you remembered the photo.
It was a rare photo of you and Simon together, one that you pretty much had to force him to take with you since he seemed to be allergic to any kind of camera. You promised him that it was just for you since you wanted to at least document that you were friends with him somehow. You ended up making two copies and thought it was fitting for him to have one since he was your friend after all.
“I forgot I put that in there…” You mumbled but trailed off as you realized he most likely wasn’t listening.
Simon read the words on the card over and over again, his eyes jumping from them to the polaroid as if he couldn’t understand what he was seeing. His shoulders had tensed up and his free hand clutched the banknote so tight that it crumpled in his grasp. 
By now you were worried that you had either overstepped or completely failed with the gift giving. You were disheartened, your throat tightening up just a bit as you tried to come up with something to say to alleviate the situation.
“You can ignore what’s on the card, I wrote it when you were gone.” Your eyes were glued to his face to see his reaction.
Simon’s eyes darted to you and you shrunk underneath his intense gaze. He was breathing ever so slightly harder, enough for you to notice, and his eyes hazy yet there was something deep hidden within them, something that made a shiver go down your spine. His gaze was too much but you still couldn’t look away as much as you wanted to, as if looking away from him would cause more trouble.
He haphazardly put the card down and before you could react, took your face into his hands and kissed you on the corner of the mouth.
You froze. Your eyes were wide and your heart was in your ears as your mind raced a million times a minute, trying to figure out if what just happened was real and if he truly meant to kiss you there. All the while Simon stared at you with similar shock, almost as if he didn’t mean for it to happen at all.
Was he going for your cheek and missed? Was he going for your lips and missed? Did he actually just kiss you or was it a really drunk hug?
You were panicking, your already shot nerves mixing with the alcohol created a strange feeling in your stomach that urged you to attempt to kiss him back. 
However, much to your dismay, he quickly pulled away from you before you could even have your lips connected. Heat immediately washed over you and you nearly ran out of the room as you scooted away from him, completely unable to look him in the eyes now as you felt the need to sink into the couch and never appear again.
You misread the situation, the alcohol had gotten you, the horrible, stupid liquid turned your brain to mush and made you too impulsive. You wanted to die, you wanted to do anything to get rid of the embarrassment you felt that you went to leave before Simon grabbed onto your wrist.
“Don’t.” He pulled you back down and kept hold of your wrist. “Look at me.”
You couldn’t make yourself look at him even if you wanted to. The thought of having to stare at his intense eye right now made you feel sick to your stomach. You just wanted to hide in your room until both of you decided that this never happened and that your friendship wasn’t ruined by a misunderstanding. 
“Please.” 
One word, soft and desperate, had you turning your entire body towards him immediately. You hesitated for a moment before you looked into his eyes, the comforting brown dowsing some of your nerves as he drank up your face, the intensity still there but held back by the fact that his face was red and he eyes broke from yours multiple times.
He looked just as embarrassed as you felt.
You were about to apologize when he cut you off.
“Not like this.” He swallowed hard and stared deep into your eyes hoping that you would understand what he meant without him having to say it out loud.
It took you a moment to realize and most of the embarrassment fading as his eyes darted away from yours. You stared down at his hand around your wrist, his hot skin against yours prickle with goosebumps before you eyes widened. If he doesn’t want to kiss you now that means he wants to kiss you later which means he’s thought about kissing you.
You felt dizzy at the thought and you could hardly think straight as it was. You couldn’t think about the implications of the words he said right now, not when you were stumbling drunk and close to a heart attack due to this very awkward situation that he admittedly put you both in. 
“Oh.”
That’s all you could think to say. A meek ‘oh’ as if that was enough to convey the feelings and thoughts raging inside of you that would surely clear the air if you said them yet you couldn’t find the words to do so. But right now maybe that wasn’t what you both needed.
No, right now you needed to ease the situation so you could think about this later with a clear mind and without screwing it up more.
“Tell me a joke.” You said, your voice still small, and he looked at you with confusion. “Tell me a joke, Simon.”
Simon let go of your wrist and turned away from you. He gave you one last glance before he picked up the joke book and flipped through the pages, taking his time to read through the lines which filled the room with awkward silence that mixed with the random movie on the TV. 
He took a deep breath and cleared his throat.
“What do you call a prisoner going down the stairs?” He asked and you knitted your eyebrow with confusion. He didn’t look up from the book when you didn’t answer but he nodded. “Condescending.”
“Oh man.” You scoffed, cringing at the horrible joke but finding it hard to not laugh all the same.
You fought against a smile that threatened to appear on your face and you made eye contact with Simon as he glanced at you. You watched as his shoulder relaxed slightly and he looked back down at the book in his hands, eyes skimming the words like mad.
“A book fell on my head today. I’ve only got my shelf to blame.”
“Ugh! Horrible.”
You couldn’t hold back your laughter now or the smile as the alcohol made it so much easier for the jokes to make you happy. You scooted closer to him and he turned his body towards you, his eyes still looking at you hesitantly, almost as if he was asking you permission to keep going or to even look at you, but he couldn’t help but smile as well. 
“What kind of murderer has fiber?” He asked and you shook your head. 
“I’m going to regret this aren’t I?” You waited for him to continue as you prematurely cringed from the bad joke that was about to grace your ears.
“A cereal killer.”
You made a disgusted sound but laughed and rested your forehead against his shoulder. You expected him to nudge you off but he didn’t and instead you heard him let out a quick sigh of relief before he flipped through the book again.
Simon rattled off a few more jokes, each of them making you laugh and taking the tension out of the air until both of you were settled against each other on the couch as if nothing had happened. He pressed his shoulder against yours as he closed the book and stared up at the ceiling. 
The movie took up the silence as you both sat there for a moment.
You looked up at him and he looked down at you when he saw you move from the corner of his eye. You took in his scars again and the way that they seemed more prominent from his red cheeks, looking into his eyes to see that they still had the tired look in them before you spoke.
“How drunk are you?” You wondered and he blinked.
“Not drunk enough to forget this.” He admitted, knowing exactly the reason why you asked him.
You nodded, knowing that you were the same. Even if you were more drunk than you were right now sure that you would remember something like this and yet the thought didn’t scare you. As embarrassing as it was, you didn’t want to forget it.
“Good.”
Link to Part 3
A/N: This feels messy but honestly I can't go back and restart so I hope it's okay. Also Idk how the UK money system works so just imagine what I put is correct and not wrong lol
EDIT: I forgot to put the tags sorry!! @msecho19
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bagofshinyrocks · 5 months
Text
Snow Angels... Kinda
Prompt: Simon is sent outside to shovel the snow from the driveway, and the little one joins him. Whether or not he's of help to his dad is another matter entirely. [Requested by @ertepla]
Featuring: Simon "Ghost" Riley x GN!Spouse!Reader
Word Count: 0.9k
Warnings: expletives
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Simon was usually the monument of speed and efficiency. Grocery store runs were completed in less than ten minutes, didn’t even need to call you for clarification. Could get dressed in all his winter attire in about 2 minutes, starting in pajamas and ending in what you called a tactical marshmallow. And the snow in the driveway stood no chance once he whipped out the shovel.
Except when it came to your son.
He had to set a timer when it was time for the boy’s baths, otherwise he and the one-and-a-half-year-old would spend an hour splashing and dunking toys.
Making dinner was still speedy, but if your son was strapped to his chest, both of them would get distracted. The boy would try to stick his hands in everything, and Simon would let him.
“He’ll be pissed off if I don’t let him eat plain flour, and he’ll be pissed off if I do let him. In one of these cases, he’ll learn that he doesn’t like plain flour.”
The little shit kept eating plain flour.
And even if Simon did everything wrong when distracted by your baby (not that he ever did, the perfect bastard), you’d never wish it any different. The gentle side of him was one of your favorite parts of him, and your son had never seen any other.
The pediatrician noted that your baby knew a good many more words than the average kid his age, and you (to Simon’s embarrassment) chalked it up to how much Simon spoke to him.
You heard the rustling of Simon’s winter gear, and immediately your son perked up. 
“Dada?” he shouted.
More rustling and Simon looked in the doorway.
“Wassit, munchkin?”
You watched as the boy scrambled towards him, giggling.
“Do you want to help Dada with the snow?” you cooed, beaming.
Simon scooped him up and plastered his face in kisses. “Aw, little man’s always so helpful.” He glanced at the clock on the bookshelf. “But it’s almost his bedtime, innit? Alright if he comes with me?”
“Please. Tire him out so he’ll go to sleep.”
Simon chuckled and gave the boy a little toss in the air. “Let’s get you all bundled up, yeah?”
Simon took his time to bundle the boy up, with a sweater, a waterproof snowsuit, boots, a hat, a scarf, and mittens. The boy could barely walk in shoes, and you imagined there would be a lot of snow piles with a baby-shaped belly flop.
Simon would get two or three shovelfuls worth of snow into a pile, and then pause to see what the baby was doing. Putting snow in his mouth, and then spitting it out and whining at the temperature. Climbing up or sitting down in the piles. Trying to take the shovel from his dad.
Your husband sat the boy on the blade of the shovel and skidded him along the driveway. You could hear both of them laughing from inside.
Simon was about halfway through when your son tried walking again. Leaning onto furniture worked, but leaning into piles of unpacked snow was not helpful. With a squawk, he fell sideways into a pile.
Your husband turned at the squawk and belly laughed at the scene. Two kicking legs and nothing else.
He walked over and grabbed one of the flailing limbs. The boy’s snowy face came into view as Simon lifted him out of the pile with one hand, dusting him off a bit with the other. 
Normally, a baby would cry. But his dad was laughing and asking his son cheerfully about what he was doing. And so the boy laughed and squealed and clapped his mittened hands.
“Simon Riley,” you hollered from the kitchen window.
He turned with a grin and gave the boy a little swing.
“Don’t you dare drop my damn baby.”
Simon pretended to do so, lowering the boy, and then pulling him back up. Then lowering him, then pulling him back up. Both of them laughed and laughed, and you pretended to gasp each time.
An hour later, the boy was fast asleep in his crib.
“Aw, he snores just like you,” teased Simon.
You swatted him. “Piss off. Good thing it’s not like yours, or the whole neighborhood would hate us.” 
The two of you left the nursery and went to your own bedroom, where two heating pads lay in your respective spots.
You crawled into bed with a quiet sigh, and Simon did so with a loud series of groans and grumbles. You kicked his thigh. 
“You’ve been a dad for a year and a half and you already sound like one.”
“Hell you talkin’ about?”
You imitated the noises he made earlier right in his face, and he covered your face with a pillow.
“My fuckin’ back hurts.”
“The baby’s that heavy that you hurt your back?”
“What? Nah, he’s easy to carry. Could throw him 50 meters. No, the snow is heavy.” He sighed and settled on his back, letting you curl up around him. “And I’m an old man, now, lovie.”
You hummed and closed your eyes, feeling the warmth of his chest through his shirt and the steady beat of his heart. Then his chest jerked up and down rapidly with a chuckle, and you opened an eye in faux annoyance.
“Sorry, lovie, just remembering how he ate shit in the driveway.”
You both snickered at the Loony Tunes-type scene from earlier.
“The driveway is clear, but all the ground around it has his belly-flops and face-plants.”
“They’re snow angels, honey.”
A fresh bout of laughter at the comparison.
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Posted: 2023 Dec 11
920 notes · View notes
babysun412 · 5 months
Text
Nct Drean Reaction: You surprise him after being long distance
Mark
Being so far apart from you has him thinking about you 24/7. He never shuts up about you to his members and constantly relates everything back to you. He writes songs about you, poems about you, he even writes letters he plans to give you when he sees you. Everytime you get off a call with each other he sits in silence for a moment and wishes you were there with him. Most of his saddest moments are the second you say goodbye on the phone.
So when he opens his bedroom door after a long day of practice and sees your bright smiley face. He can't help but tackle you in the biggest hug he can. You both land on top of his bed and his face is pressed in your neck as he says "No way" over and over again. He refuses to let go of you for the rest of the day.
"Holy shit, you're here. I love so much baby. Oh my god-"
Renjun
I honestly think he would cry. He would seem the least affected by being in a long distance relationship but it would secretly hit him the hardest. One of his favorite things is just to be with you. He tries to make the most out of the time you do get to see each other but in the end it always feels too short. The texts and calls keep him going throughout the day but he wants nothing more but to see your smile in person again.
You walk into the practice room after Jaemin picked you up and helped you surprise him. Renjun was the only one in the room and once he saw you through the mirror...he broke. His mouth was wide open in disbelief as he went straight into your arms. You couldn't help but coo as he cried gently into your shoulder, whispering how much he missed you. You would try to calm him down but he was ready to find a way to keep you by his side for good.
"I missed you... please stay."
Jeno
Jeno is %100 the member who would call and text you the most. He'll call to ask simple questions like what to grab at the grocery store or he'll even call when he's gaming just to hear your nagging. He gets so sad when you don't answer even though he knows it's probably for a good reason. He just wants to share his thoughts with the only person he always wants to hear them.
He got sad when you didn't answer his call. Like where tf are you? This is your regularly scheduled Jeno time. He'd be speechless when he sees you making dinner in the kitchen. You'd so causal about saying hello before laughing at his frozen state. You would giggle as he runs towards you and picks you up in a hug. But before you can say anything he would pull you into the most passionate kiss of your life.
"Jeno-"
"Shh, I wanna kiss my baby."
Haechan (Donghyuck)
Donghyuck just loves affection so it would be hard for him to do long distance. You would both call and text each other a lot but some days it's just not enough for him. He would beat himself up for being sad that you aren't there because he knows it's not your fault. But sometimes he just feels so helpless on how to feel better. He just misses you so much.
For the first time ever, he doesn't say a word when he sees you in the dressing room after his concert. Your smile would begin to fade when he doesn't say anything but as soon as you get closer he pulls you as close as you can get to each other. His face would bury itself in your neck as he would breathe in the scent he missed so much. He would not let you out of his arms for the longest time and you would both stand in the middle of the dressing room hugging despite the other people around.
"Please just hug me and pet my hair."
Jaemin
Jaemin tries to be as present in your life as possible when you are apart. He memories your daily schedules and is always reminding you to eat and get enough sleep. Taking care of you is something that takes his mind off the distance between you. He wants you to know that he's doing well too so that you can have no worries when you finally see each other again. Unfortunately, that's not how everything works sometimes.
You had come to surprise him at his dorm and he almost screams in joy after he walks through the door. He would run to you with a smile and hug you as tight as he can. But what he doesn't expect is for you to start crying into his chest. You felt like in order to keep him happy that you needed to pretend to be happy too. You felt like you needed to hide how much you missed him but you can't anymore. Jaemin would feel awful seeing you cry and his top priority would be to make you happy again.
"Baby, we can do so much while you're here! We can go on dates and hold hands and kiss and have s-"
"JAEMIN!" *Smack*
"I was gonna say sleepovers! But I mean~"
"Na Jaemin."
Chenle
Chenle understands that you have your own life and schedules but he would struggle with the fact you can't just maneuver them around whenever you want. Why can't you just take your lunch break when he gets a chance to grab his own food? Why can't you just skip class when he finally has a break in his schedule to call you? He's not mad about it or anything but he just gets worried if you both aren't able to find time for each other then your relationship might fall apart. It would mean everything to Chenle when you come to surprise him.
His mom was actually the one who suggested for you to come surprise Chenle. He was finally going to be visiting his home and his mom talked about how much he's been talking about you. So when Chenle sees you standing in his bedroom in his house in his home country...he realizes you're the one. Neither of you had said I love you yet and the second he sees you it's the only thing he's able to say.
"SURPRISE!"
"..."
"Lele?"
"I love you."
Jisung
Jisung would be another one who doesn't show how much the distance affects him. He thinks about you a lot more than you know. He's always wondering what you are doing or when he sees something funny he instantly sends it to you because he knows it'll make you laugh. Jisung would like to have that close, cute and cheesy relationship with you but he respects the reasons on why you're both apart. He doesn't want to seem selfish by complaining about the distance.
When he enters the dark room, he thinks that his hyungs are doing the obvious birthday cake surprise. What he doesn't expect is for his hyungs to scream happy birthday and show you standing behind them. His mouth would drop open and he'd look around like he's questioning if this is real. Once you go to hug him, he would press your foreheads together and nuzzle the tip of your nose with his. The closeness he's been craving for finally being fulfilled.
"Happy Birthday, baby."
"You're finally here."
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barefoothighlander · 1 year
Note
Not sure if anyone has thrown a request in like this before but how about one where Ghost is on leave and hanging out with Civvie girlfriend for lunch/shopping trip when they bump into her handsome coworker who is quite obviously into her. He just awkwardly stands there while they converse and seething with jealousy when he sees how this coworker is blatantly flirting
When they get home….well you decide what should happen ❤️‍🔥🧎‍♀️💦
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jealous ghost makes my brain fog
warnings: mdni (18+), smut, unprotected pinv, creampie, oral (fem rec), biting, hickeys, est relationship, light choking, dirty talk, jealous!ghost, slight possessive!ghost
Ghost had been home a week, one whole week of pure bliss, going to bed beside each other every night only to wake up tangled in the sheets, he was happier when he was home, more himself.
You had spent the majority of the week together in your flat, maintaining a domestic routine of cooking and cleaning, just being with each other after having barely any contact for months.
"I have to go to the shops today, did you want to come?"
He peaks his head around the corner, eyes glued to your form as you get dressed, his gaze lingering on your bare legs for a moment.
"What are you getting?"
"We need food, all out of pretty much everything"
"Yea I'll come"
You smile at him, that smile that he fell in love with years ago, the smile that he dreamed of when he was on deployment, the smile that called him home.
Your walk to the store is filled with laughter, giggling at his awful jokes, your hands entwined as you walk down the cobbled streets, deciding that the weather was just too nice to drive. Shopping with Simon was a chore all on its own, he always wanted to pick out biscuits and sweets rather than anything of actual nutritional value, he argued that he never got treats on base so he deserved them when he got home, he typically won the arguments.
After too many minutes spent wandering the aisles, you find your way to the checkout, assigning Simon to pack the bags of groceries as he insisted on carrying them for you.
"Fancy seeing you here" A voice rings from behind you, breaking your conversation with the cashier, turning to face your coworker Robert.
"Oh, hi, how are you?" You smile politely, he doesn't answer your question instead extending his arms and closing the gap between you, his arms wrapping around your back as he lifts you into the air in a hug.
"Who's this?" His eyes set on Simon, standing quietly, staring at the two of you as he lets you down.
"My boyfriend, Simon this is Robert, we work together"
Simon nods his head, his eyes piercing into Robert, "Dick"
"Awh man, you're a lucky guy, everyone in the office has been trying to get a piece of this little firecracker for years" He playfully hits your shoulder causing you to cringe internally as you give pleading eyes toward Simon who doesn't say anything, just stands there with the grocery bags in his hand.
"Well, we've gotta go, lots of chores"
"Of course" He nods, "Take care of this one aye?" He winks, pointing at Ghost who spares a glance at you before turning to walk away.
"See you at the office Robert" You chase after your boyfriend who flees the shop in a hurry.
"Si"
"He's a good lookin' bloke"
"Don't do that"
"Just observing"
"Simon come on"
"I didn't say anything"
"I know, that's what scares me"
The walk back to your flat feels longer, the silence between the two of you melts into a thick tension has you cursing yourself. Arriving back at the apartment Simon drops the groceries in the kitchen, leaving in a fury towards the bathroom.
"Are we gonna talk about it?"
"About what?"
"Don't be that way, there's nothing going on between him and I"
"I know"
"So why are you so jealous" You throw your arms up, widening your eyes at him, your words set him off. He crosses the room, forcing you to stumble back against the wall, your spine colliding with the wood as his forearms press beside your head, caging you.
"You're mine"
"I'm yours"
His lips crash into yours, his hands cupping your head as his tongue pushes past your teeth, swirling with yours, it's rough and needy. His hands move to grab under your thighs, lifting you against the wall as your arms wrap around his neck, keeping yourself steady, he walks you toward the bed, dropping you onto the mattress as he leans over your form, your legs locked around his waist as he deepens the kiss.
You're both breathing heavily into each other, your fingers working to take his shirt off as his lips move to trail kisses down your skin, nipping and biting at the flesh.
"Mine" He repeats the word in between bites, his hands pushing your shirt up your torso to sit above your breasts, tugging your bra to free your breasts, his lips moving to suck at your nipple, your arousal pooling in your core as his fingers move towards the hem of your pants, pulling them down your legs.
He wastes no time in travelling to your core, pulling your panties to the side to lick a thick stripe between your folds, causing your body to twitch under him.
"Need to taste you" He groans into your core, his accent thick, dripping in desire as you thread your fingers through his hair, arching your hips toward him. He latches his lips around your clit, sucking at the bud as his fingers push into your entrance, pumping into you as you crumble beneath him.
Your core is weeping, your slick coating his chin, dripping onto the sheets below you as he brings your orgasm quickly, he knows your body better than you do, knowing how to get a rise out of you, how to curve his fingers to hit just the right spot. Flicking his tongue in time with his fingers your orgasm washes over you, tugging on his roots as he groans into your pussy, the vibration helping you ride out your high as you cum on his fingers, clenching down on the digits.
"Please Si, need you"
He moves over your form, his clothes length grinding against your core causing you to moan,
"Yea, need my fat cock to fill this little pussy"
"Yes, fuck"
"Need me to stuff you full, stretch you so no other man can fuck you" His hand snakes up your body to settle on the base of your throat, his fingers teasing over your pulse point.
"Need it so bad"
"Gonna ruin you for anyone else, you're all mine"
"All yours"
His hand moves to undo his pants, pushing them down as his cck springs free, his tip red and dripping as he teases it through your folds, he lines himself up, pushing in slowly as your jaw falls open, the stretch of him burns deliciously, filling you as he pushes in inch by inch.
"Little more love, gonna take it all"
His head falls to your shoulder as he bottoms out, your fingers scraping against the skin of his back as your legs cling to him, he sets a brutal pace, thrusting every inch into your dripping cunt as your arch into him. His hands roam your skin, tracing over the marks from his lips on your chest as he fucks you.
"So fucking tight, so wet" He grunts
"All for you" You manage through moans
"All fucking mine" He punctuates his words with harsh thrusts, his tip brushing against your cervix. He's fucking you with every ounce of pent-up anger, every emotion from his deployment, every bit of spite enforced in his assault on your core.
Your nails drag across his back, sure to leave streaks of red as he brings your second orgasm with minimal effort, he feels the way you squeeze him, the wiggle of your hips as your push against him, snaking his hand down your core so his fingers can toy with your clit.
"You wanna cum? Wanna soak my cock?"
"Yes, please Si"
"Who else can make you cum like this?"
You're squirming under him, the coil inside you threatening to set your skin on fire, "No one, only you"
"That's right, show me how much you need my cock love"
Your orgasm tears through your body, your fingers digging into his skin as your legs tense around him, holding him to you, his fingers work circles around your bud as his eyes stare into you, watching you thrash under him, your head falling back into the mattress as you become a mess of whimpers and moans.
"That's it, good girl"
You ride out your high, his grunts filling the air as his thursts become sloppier, he's chasing his own high as you buck against him.
"Gonna fill this little pussy, let everyone know who you belong to" His fingers squeeze your hips, holding you still as he bottoms out, his abdomen straining as his cum floods your walls, thrusting it deeper into you as the mix of your spend leaks from your pussy, coating his shaft. He keeps his softening cock inside you, leaning down and lifting his mask from his face to kiss you, it's sweeter this time, less needy and more loving, his hand cupping your jaw as he pulls back.
He leaves you for a moment to grab a small rag, wetting it before returning to you, gently swiping around your core to clean up the mess, placing small pecks over every love bite he left on your skin before sliding up the bed next to you. His arm snakes under your waist, tugging your back against his chest as his nose settles against your neck, his legs tangled between yours as you trace the tattoos n his arm, catching your breath.
"I am not jealous" He huffs against your skin
"Could've fooled me"
"He shouldn't talk about you like that, that's all"
You turn to face him, "Well you did call him a dick"
"It's a fitting nickname"
"Simon" You warn with a smile,
"I don't like when other people touch you"
"Okay"
"Or think about you"
"Seriously"
"It's not fair he gets to see you every day when I only get you for a short time"
You reach a hand to stroke his cheek, smiling as he leans into your touch, "You know I'm all yours"
"Yeah but next time I'll kill him"
You turn your body fully, burying your head against his chest as his arms cradle your back, "I'm sure you scared him off"
"Better hope so"
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allur1ngs · 4 months
Text
✮ a whisper of our love ✮
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TW: don’t let the cute visuals deceive you this is pure ANGST to fluff, delulu bada strikes again, bada doesn’t know how to process her emotions but it’s okay she’s trying, reader is a chronic sweetie pie no one hate on her or i’ll find you, character death, guns, blood, descriptions of injury, grieving, emotional trauma, survivor’s guilt!! flashbacks in this fic are indicated by italicized text, sweet smut (dom & top!bada sub & bottom!reader, fingering–r!receiving, oral–bada!receiving, finger sucking–bada!receiving, scissoring/tribbing whatever you wanna call it–both!receiving obvs, tit sucking–r!receiving, a bit of spit… sorry, lots of praise & fluffy love–r!receiving) aftercare happens out of the fic
SUMMARY: bada confronts years of profound emotional turmoil to embrace the depths of her affection for you.
WC: 16.1k…no comment
A/N: find more information about this au on my masterlist! ...here it is!! the long-awaited official first kiss + first i love you, as well as first time together as a couple!! ngl i’m really proud of this one. many (not so obvious too) plot points come together this time so keep an eye out for them!! again–please ignore any spelling errors this is so long–& this one might be a bit heavy around the middle part so please take care of yourself!! but enjoy!!
DISCLAIMER: all characteristics portrayed are purely speculation and fiction, they are not meant to reflect bada or team bebe’s actual character, values, or attitudes. please keep this in mind!!
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Several months after the Seong incident, it finally felt like things were going back to normal. You got back into the swing of things, embracing your time in the Lee mansion, and rarely leaving unless you got antsy. You became much more vigilant while out, carefully observing your surroundings and never straying too far away from Hyo’s side. Malls, grocery stores, and casual strolls became few and far between, but at your behest. You gained a sense of normalcy staring at the same large walls and divots in your home—happy with your life as it is, everything felt complete.
Bada, on the other hand, who had become increasingly protective to the point she had been somewhat clingy, was finally starting to ease back into her busy work schedule, her visitations becoming rarer. Although you felt a bit melancholic at the fact that she was pulling away from you, you accepted that work would always be a large part of Bada’s life – whether either liked it or not. 
Thoughts such as these swirl in your mind as you get ready for a new day, rays of warm beige sunlight peaking through your mesh curtains and swirling in the air of your room. Every part of your body feels relaxed, muscles moving fluidly as you dress yourself up. Today, you’d invited your friends over – with Bada’s permission, of course – for a small get-together. A real one.
They’d been nagging you for days on end about seeing you again, and after finally breaking under the pressure, you invited them to come over and have breakfast with you, then take a nice dip in the infinity pool. You could practically hear the squeals of excitement through the all-caps text messages they’d responded with, all agreeing to your proposal and before conversing about what bathing suit they’d bring.
Now, on the day of their arrival, you get ready slightly earlier than you normally do, preparing accordingly for your friends.
“Good morning, Hyo.” You greet your bodyguard with a smile as you step out of your bedroom.
“Good morning, kid.” She nods. “Up and about already?”
“Yup,” you begin walking down the hallway, Hyo following you without a second thought. “The girls are coming over today for breakfast.”
“Right,” Hyo acknowledges. “You bought all those groceries yesterday for them.”
“Mhm,” you nod. “I need to get started on the cooking so that the food is ready for them when they arrive.”
“What a great hostess you are.” Hyo lightly teases you.
“Please, it’s just common courtesy.” You have a hand in dismissal. “Besides, knowing Jae, she’ll be crying about how she’s ‘so hungry’ the second she gets here.”
“Jae…” Hyo trails off, her mind wandering back to the day you’d been kidnapped, and how the woman had aided in your rescue. “I can tell you two care about each other a lot.”
“We do.” You turn into the kitchen, greeting the staff that’s already busy at work. "She's the first friend I made and the longest-lasting friendship I've ever had."
“How long?” Hyo asks, leaning against the counter as you begin to take out ingredients.
“Let’s see…” you pause, thinking to yourself. “about… fifteen years now, give or take a year or so.”
Hyo whistles loudly, sucking her teeth. “That’s a very long time.”
“It is,” you nod, “but really, it doesn’t feel that way. She’s always keeping me on my toes.”
Hyo snorts, “I can tell.” You lightly elbow her in the shoulder before focusing back on the food in front of you. “So, how’d you meet the rest of them?”
“Through my parents and school.” You start chopping some of the fresh vegetables on a newly cleaned chopping board. “I met Min-Ji not too long after Jae. She was the class president, and I was one of the top students, so we naturally clicked. Our parents also were long-time friends, so that was another factor, of course.”
“Min-Ji… which one was she?” Hyo crosses her arms across her chest, trying to remember the faces of your friends from the party.
“She was wearing a black cocktail dress. She has long black hair–”
“Ah, yes.” Hyo snaps her fingers. “I remember. She had a very mature look.”
“That’s because she’s the oldest out of all of us.” You nod. “Da-Eun is the second oldest. She’s the sporty type.”
“Was she the one that almost attacked me for pulling you out of the house?” Hyo scoffs.
“Yes,” you laugh, “that was Da-Eun. But don’t hold it against her, she’s very hot-headed and protective by nature.”
“I won’t.” Hyo shrugs. “I think it’s important to have friends that care about you.”
“I agree. They’ve all got me through some tough times.” You move around the kitchen, pulling out spices and seasoning the food. “What about you, Hyo?”
“My friends…” she lets out a long sigh. “Are all the Bebe girls, Boss, and you.”
You give Hyo a bright smile, nudging her shoulder, “Aww, you really do consider me your friend.”
“Are you really that surprised?” She chuckles.
“No, I knew you couldn’t resist my friendly disposition.” you wink at her playfully.
“Right…” she trails off. “So what’s on the menu?”
“I’m making kimchi pancakes, and egg rolls.” You say, while beating the eggs.
“Do you need help, Ms. Lee?” The head cook suddenly cuts in, offering to cook for you.
“Oh no, it’s alright.” You kindly dismiss. “I’ve got it.”
The head cook lightly bows before returning to preparing Bada’s breakfast.
You glance at Hyo from the corner of your eye, motioning her to come closer. She raises her eyebrows, but complies. “I still find it a bit strange that all the staff call me Ms. Lee.” You whisper to her.
“Well, you are engaged to the Boss,” Hyo whispers back.
“But we’re not married yet.” You point out.
“In their minds, you already are. You’re the Boss’s wife.”
Hearing it said aloud makes it more real. Although you’ve been living in the Lee mansion, and getting to know everyone, it slips your mind that this large building will officially become your home in a few months. That all the staff will be working for you – though technically they already are – that Bada’s business will, in some ways, be yours as well.
You will have her last name. You will be her wife.
As if in a trance, you move about the kitchen on autopilot, cooking, and eventually cleaning once you’re finished.
And like divine timing, the doorbell from the very front gate sounds, ringing in the living room and kitchen, taking you by surprise. “They’re here.” You mumble, hurriedly plating the kimchi pancakes, egg rolls, and their drinks.
It takes them a few minutes to get past security detail – although Bada agreed to let them visit, her only caveat was that they’d need to go through extensive security, for your protection, of course. But the second they step into the living room, all of their eyes widen, stars in their irises as they take in the diamond teardrop chandelier, and the golden-trimmed decorations glittering in the morning sun.
“This looks like the inside of Buckingham Palace.” Jae awes, her hand covering her agape mouth.
“How do you know what the inside of Buckingham Palace looks like?” Da-Eun raises an eyebrow at the younger woman.
Jae playfully glares at her friend, smacking her on the shoulder lightly. “It was just an expression.”
“Control yourselves.” Min-Ji cuts in, trying to contain the look of utter shock and amazement marring her expression. “We’re in someone else’s home now, so no funny business.”
“Where’s unnie?” Ryung speaks up, looking around the vast living room for you.
“Sorry–” you walk in from the kitchen carrying plates in your hands, Hyo following close behind with some across her arms as well. “I would have greeted you right when you came in but I just finished plating the food.”
“Food?” Jae exclaims, her eyes lighting up like a Christmas tree. “You made food for us?”
“You really didn’t have to–” Min-Ji says humbly.
You give them lightly scolding looks as you place down their food on the long dining table. It’s decorated to perfection; a crisp white tablecloth draped over the walnut wood table. Lit candelabras that drip hot candle wax rest in the center and outermost edges, small vases with blossoming flowers accompanying them. And to top it all off, in front of each dining chair, fine china and crystal wine glasses with embossed detailing are set aside next to firmly polished silverware.
“I invited you all over for breakfast, did you really think I wouldn’t serve any food?”
“We thought you would just let the staff make it instead,” Da-Eun admits.
“No, they’re already very busy preparing breakfast for Bada and Bebe.” You wave a hand in dismissal. “I didn’t want to burden them with any more work.”
“That’s so sweet of you!” Jae practically squeals, throwing herself at you and squeezing you tight in a hug.
You let out a small “oof” at the action, but eventually laugh and hug your best friend back. You stay like that only a minute before the sound of tiny sniffles reaches your ears, making you take a step back with a worried expression. Jae stares back at you with tears in her eyes, and a distressed look on her face. “Jae?” You say softly. “What’s wrong?”
“Unnie…” she trails off, her voice getting gradually louder. “You scared me!” She lunges forward, holding onto you like a koala bear while she sobs.
“Wha–”
“When you got kidnapped I was so scared! I really thought I’d never see you again.” She practically wails.
You look up from your best friend’s figure, your eyes locking with the other girls. They all wear solemn expressions, either looking at the ground or staring at you hollowly. Your heart squeezes in your chest, the realization that you hadn’t seen your friends face to face since that day finally dawning on you.
For hours, they must have been waiting at home, terrified out of their minds, wondering if you were dead.
You pat Jae on the back, comforting her. “I’m so sorry I worried you all.”
“We felt like it was our fault,” Ryung speaks up, hanging her head. “If we hadn’t thrown that party, you wouldn’t have been kidnapped.”
“If I’d have just pummeled that creep when I got the chance–” Da-Eun clenches her fist.
“None of what happened was your fault.” You cut in, voice stern. “I agreed to go to the party, despite knowing it would be dangerous for me. It’s my fault.”
The girls seem to perk up at your words, but only slightly.
“And Da-Eun, if you’d punched Seong, you probably would have ended up being taken hostage like me, or worse.” You point out. “Now stop commiserating and eat the breakfast I made for you.”
The girls reluctantly listen to you, all of them choosing a seat before thanking you for the food once again and digging in. Conversation flows easily after that, the topic of Seong and your kidnapping left far behind. Instead, you talk about lighter subjects, like what the girls had been up to while you recovered.
Once you all top off your breakfast, you walk your plates over to the kitchen and place them in the sink to clean them.
“Ms. Lee, would you like me to wash the dishes for you?” The head cook pops out of the kitchen, standing in front of you with his hands behind his back.
“Oh, it’s alright, we should do it.” You say, the girls behind you letting out murmurs of agreement as well.
The cook once again looks surprised but nods, ducking back into the kitchen as you begin cleaning.
"Ms. Lee, huh?" Jae playfully bumps your hip.
You let out a long sigh while chuckling. "I haven't gotten used to it yet."
"Well, you'd better because, in a matter of months, you'll be Mrs. Lee, the wife of the most powerful mafia boss in Seoul." Jae looks up at the sky, a giddy grin on her face.
"When is the wedding, by the way?" Min-Ji asks.
"Ah, we still haven't decided on a date yet," you mumble, having finished cleaning your plate, "but I think sometime in December."
"Oh, winter." Da-Eun nods.
"That’s a beautiful time to get married," Ryung comments.
"You know,” Jae begins. “I always thought Min-Ji would be the first of us to marry,"
"Really?" Min-Ji looks around at you all, a flush painting the apples of her cheeks.
"Well, you've had a boyfriend for what," Da-Eun starts flipping up her fingers, counting. "five years now?"
"Jung-Hoon will make a good husband," Jae remarks.
"Why are you all speaking as if we're already engaged?" Min-Ji blubbers, clearly embarrassed. "We still have a few years before we should start thinking about marriage."
"Yes, you do, Min." You call your friend by her nickname, lightly nudging Da-Eun and Jae in their sides. "You don't have to get married early like I am. It's all on your time."
With your last assertion hanging in the air, you and the girls finish cleaning up before heading toward the infinity pool on the second level of the mansion. The excitement rises between your friends the moment you step onto the terrace, their expressions starstruck at the clear water rippling against the opal tiles at the bottom of the pool.
They hurry over to the pool chairs, set down their bags, and strip their clothes off, leaving them in the swimsuits they had underneath.
"The water's so beautiful." Ryung approaches the pool, dipping her fingers into the water. "Do you go swimming often?" She asks you.
"Yes," you answer while taking off your clothing, your swimsuit catching the morning light. "It's very relaxing on warm days like this."
"I would kill to have a pool this big." Jae grabs your hands, walking you over to the steps of the pool where your friends wait for you.
You all tread in, the water fresh as it cradles the skin of your legs and chest, making you let out a content sigh. There's nothing quite like taking a dip during stifling heat.
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As it turns out, wearing a suit during one of the hottest days of the week wasn't Bada's brightest idea. The black-tinted window in her office only manages to absorb some of the sun's unrelenting heat, leaving Bada still sweating in her clothing, huffs of annoyance escaping her mouth every few minutes.
"Ugh," she groans, pushing her work away and sitting back in her chair. She spreads her legs, finding her calves unnaturally stiff—hours of sitting will do that to you, she supposes. Standing up reluctantly, Bada immediately removes her tie and suit jacket, as well as undoes the first few buttons of her dress shirt.
She fans herself with one hand, the other reaching down to grab a glass of water she'd been given with her breakfast. She chugs the liquid down in seconds, sighing when she's finished.
Steeling herself, Bada moves to sit down again but finds her legs still stiff and grunts in mild pain. So she decides not to sit down, and instead paces around her office. She loops about five times before she grows agitated and walks towards the door. She'd been working for five hours, pouring through the ceiling-high proposal documents from another group and was frankly going stir-crazy from staring at the papers.
She opens the door and leaves her office, trudging down the hallway without a destination in mind. That is, until the sound of lively chatter reaches her ears, making her pause and look around with a confused expression. She follows the noises, worry and curiosity itching at the back of her mind.
She finds the source on the second-floor terrace and pauses at the entrance, half of her body hidden in the shadows. Her eyes snap over to the unknown women swimming in her pool, the confusion in her mind only doubling. But then she sees you speaking to them casually, a bright smile on your face as you splash water at the women, all of them retaliating back and causing a water fight.
Then, it clicks in her mind. Today is the day her friends were to come over, Bada thinks. She mentally berates herself for forgetting about it—too caught up in her piles of work to remember. Before she can linger on the thought for too long, your friend's chatter dies down into a calm conversation. Bada steps back from the entryway quickly, her back laying flat against wall. She knows she give you your privacy, but despite her better judgment, she stays rooted in her spot, listening.
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"This is so nice," Da-Eun mutters with a smile, relaxing so she's floating at the water's surface.
"So," Min-Ji swims closer to you. "What have you been doing all this time?"
"Not much," you admit. "Just... recovering. I had a pretty nasty bruise on my cheek. It just finished healing."
"Just finished healing?" Ryung frowns.
"But that was a while ago..." Jae adds.
"Seong had a heavy hand," you mumble, causing little ripples in the water by swishing your fingers back and forth.
Away from your view, Bada rests her head against the wall, her eyes staring up at the ceiling as images of your injury flash in her mind. She feels a pit form in her stomach at the memory, as well as a fire burning in her veins. Although she knows Seong is already long dead, it doesn’t stop the deep hatred in her heart from festering.
"At least it healed well," Min-Ji nods, pointing her finger at your skin, which is now free of discoloration.
"Yeah," you ghost your fingers across the skin of your left cheek, remembering how swollen it had been, as well as painted with yellow and purple hues.
Jae watches your movements closely, sympathy in her irises until she realizes something, and her eyebrows furrow. "Wait..." She reaches over and grabs your hand, holding it up to the sun. "Where's your ring?"
You give her a confused look. "What ring?"
"Your engagement ring," Jae says, looking at you expectantly.
Bada freezes in her spot, a feeling akin to a cold bucket of water being dumped over her head washing through her body. A ring.
 How could she be so stupid? She never presented you with an engagement ring (not to mention she hadn’t bought one in the first place), although you're both several months into your engagement. If her mother were alive, she'd scold her for her lack of manners and for being inconsiderate of your wants—what most women want more than anything—a beautiful and heartfelt piece of jewelry that encapsulates their spouse's devotion and feelings.
"Oh..." you trail off before Jae’s words fully register in your mind. "Oh. I don't have one."
"You don't have an engagement ring?" All the girls blurt out at once, their expressions a mix between shock and horror.
“I guess we never really got around to it.” You stare down at your empty ring finger, not exactly knowing how to feel. You hadn’t even realized that Bada never presented you a ring.
“Never got around to it?” Jae’s mouth drops. “How do you ‘never get around’ to getting your engagement ring?”
“I’m surprised you don’t have a rock the size of Seoul on your finger.” Da-Eun remarks, shaking her head.
“We’ve been very busy–” you try to explain.
“But it’s a ring.” Jae asserts.
You say nothing in response, lips pressing into a line and eyebrows crinkling.
The resounding silence marinating in the air makes Bada’s stomach drop. You must think of  her as an inconsiderate fiancée.
She berates herself in her mind as she speed-walks away, determined to make up for her oversight.
She’ll find you a ring befitting of your beauty.
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Bada quickly realizes that finding the perfect engagement ring for you is more challenging than she initially thought. She's scrolled through countless websites of high-end jewelers, observing the sparkle of gold, white gold, silver – every type of finery imaginable. However, every ring she inspects falls short.
"Too gaudy," she thinks as she scans a ring with a disproportionately large diamond and a small band. "Too simple," her eyes scrutinize another ring, containing the smallest diamond she’s ever seen, with an equally bland and thin band.
In frustration, Bada pushes away her laptop, pulling her glasses onto her head and rubbing her eyes. "Why are engagement rings so hit or miss?" she asks the open air, as if expecting an answer.
Funnily enough, she does get a response. "Engagement rings?" Tatter steps into Bada’s office, carrying a large stack of paperwork.
"Tatter, if you are about to hand me another day’s work of documents, I might just lose my mind," Bada groans.
"I’m not handing it to you," Tatter says sheepishly, "I’m placing it on your desk."
Bada only groans louder, dropping her head onto the desk and lightly banging it against the wood repeatedly. "Boss…" Tatter trails off, grimacing. "You’re making me feel bad."
"Good," Bada huffs. "You should feel bad for me."
"Why are you so stressed out?" Tatter sets the papers down before stepping back.
"The ring," Bada rasps.
"What ring?" Tatter asks, her face skewed up in absolute confusion.
"The engagement ring. The one I never gave to my fiancée."
"You never gave unnie a ring?" Tatter says incredulously.
"No," Bada hollowly laments. "Now I’m trying to find a ring for her, but none of them are suitable."
"Can I see?" Tatter asks, motioning toward her boss’s laptop. Bada pushes her laptop in Tatter’s direction, showing her subordinate the screen. Tatter scans the images of the rings, pressing her lips together in thought. "This one’s nice." She points at a ring with a diamond in the middle, and two smaller diamonds next to it, resting on a thin, gold band.
Bada looks at the ring, her eyebrows furrowing. "I guess. But it’s nothing special. Her ring has to be special–"
"You know, rather than stressing out about it, why don’t you just find out what types of rings she likes?" Tatter cuts her off.
"And how do you suggest I do that?" Bada asks monotonously.
"Reconnaissance," Tatter smirks. "And I know just the perfect people for the job."
Bada picks up her head, staring at her subordinate with a wry expression – not quite sure if she should be worried or relieved.
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The following day rolls around, the heat from yesterday having subsided into a comfortable chill.
"Hey kid, are you ready to go?" Hyo steps into your bedroom, her hands in her pockets as she watches you finish getting ready.
"Yes," you nod, voice quiet.
Your bodyguard frowns, stepping forward. "What’s with the sad look?"
You glance at Hyo, shaking your head. "I just have a lot on my mind. Sorry."
"It’s okay." Hyo places her hand on your shoulder. She guides you toward the doorway, but not before discreetly pulling out her phone and snapping a picture of your open jewelry box, your rings on full display.
"Why are we going out again?" You look back at Hyo, a dazed look on your face.
"You said you wanted to go for a walk and see the shops, remember?" She reminds you, tucking her phone back into her pocket.
"Oh, right." You nod, perking up a bit. "My mother asked me to pick up something for her at a store."
"Why doesn’t she pick it up herself?" Hyo steps up behind you, following as you begin your strides down the hallway and toward the spiral staircase leading to the first level.
"She’s packing for a trip." You sigh, "Can’t be bothered to leave her home for a second to pick up her designer dress."
"If you’ll let me speak a bit out of line…" Hyo trails off, her words pitching upward in a half-question.
"Yes, of course." You answer quickly. "We’re friends."
"...Your mother is quite the character." Your bodyguard asserts while digging out her phone from her pocket. She unlocks it while staying behind you and out of your line of sight, opening the picture she took of your jewelry box and sending it to Lusher.
She quickly types out, “Here it is,” with the picture attached to the message.
Seconds later, a gray bubble pops up, and Lusher responds. "Great, thanks!"
Hyo hastily sends another message, “We’d better get the ring ASAP. She’s been acting sad since yesterday…”
This time Lusher takes a few more minutes to respond, "Got it. Also, make sure to bring her to the right stores. Boss and I will be right behind you, so make sure to keep her distracted as much as possible."
Hyo texts back a thumbs-up emoji before closing her phone. 
"Character is an understatement." Your voice makes Hyo straighten up immediately.
"That’s the kindest way of expressing what I think about your mother. You are my boss, after all." Hyo points out, shoving her hands into her pockets causally.
"I’m not your boss." You say, turning back to glance at her with furrowed eyebrows. "Bada is."
"She’s ‘the Boss,’ but you’re my boss," Hyo explains. "She’s my employer, but my job is to watch over you when she can’t. You’re my superior."
"I don’t like how that sounds." You frown. "Can’t we just consider each other friends rather than deal with the semantics of superiors and subordinates?"
"If that would make you more comfortable." Hyo shrugs. “Anyway, what’s your mother packing for?”
"Her annual trip to Calivigny Island with my father," you sigh.
"Ah, in the Caribbean," your bodyguard whistles. "A private, luxury island that only accommodates fifty guests at a time."
"She usually travels during the summer, but she missed the trip earlier because she and my father were finalizing the deal between Bada and my proposal."
"Tragic," Hyo remarks sarcastically.
"Isn’t it?" you respond, a smile quirking up your lips as you finally reach the stairs and begin heading downwards. You quickly venture down them and out of the Lee mansion while Hyo heads to the garage, taking out your usual black sports car and parking it in front of the perron steps for you. She helps you in, closing the door behind you before pulling out of the driveway of the mansion and heading out of the open gates.
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The doors of Louis Vuitton glitter in the darkening horizon like a beacon of illumination meant to attract wanderers in the chilly night. And like a moth infatuated with the light, you step in front of the doors, your eyebrows creased together.
“I don’t know why I feel so nervous,” you mutter under your breath.
“Hold your head up high, kid.” Hyo grabs the heavy handle of the door, using her strength to crack it open. “You have more power and influence than anyone inside that store.”
You take in a deep breath and nod, stepping into the store, a small draft of warm air caressing you like a friendly hug. Inside, a whirl of earthy perfume paired with notes of vanilla, makes its way to your senses. All the decorations are painted with a yellow and beige light, the bags hanging from shelves are highlighted like jewels.
And like a newly cut diamond, you remain unseen for only a second before the older jewels notice your radiance, their eyes finding yours instantly. Women and men in their most elegant and finest clothing appraise you, their irises barely swooping over you before they widen to impossible sizes. They start to whisper amongst each other, your appearance surprising them and causing their eyes to glitter with excitement.
You stride forward, remembering Hyo’s advice as you approach a saleswoman–who is notably frozen in her spot when she notices you coming toward them–before someone steps in your path.
A man carrying a tray with a single bottle of sparkling water stands in front of you, his eyes glistening under the light, and a friendly smile stretching across his lips. “Would you like a drink?”
“Oh–” you breathe out, surprised. “Yes, thank you very much.” You take the water bottle, and suddenly the man is out of your view, circling around you and grabbing the coat keeping you slightly hot in the already warm store.
“Allow me to hang your coat,” he mumbles, tucking the tray under his arm as he gently uses his gloved hands to pluck the clothing off of you.
You look back at the man with a slightly dazed expression but smile. “Thank you.”
“It’s my pleasure.” He bows in front of you before exchanging a brief nod with Hyo and stepping back.
You gather your bearings quickly and walk up to the saleswoman, slightly clearing your throat as you hear the giddy whispering from the shoppers increase. “I’m here to pick up an order.”
The saleswoman seems to have gathered herself in the time her co-worker had taken your coat and offered you the sparkling water because now she’s standing straight and has a semi-nervous smile strewn across her lips. “Yes, of course. I can take you to a private room if you’d like.” She gestures to a room concealed by a curtain carrying the “LV” logo.
“Oh no, that’s alright,” you wave a hand in dismissal. “I’m just here to pick up an order, I won’t be staying long.”
“Please, it might take a while for us to find the order.” The saleswoman insists. “You can relax and enjoy some refreshments while we fetch it.”
You glance at Hyo from your peripheral, who looks like she’s trying her hardest to hold in a laugh. Internally rolling your eyes at her, you nod at the saleswoman. “Alright. Thank you.”
“This way, please,” she guides you toward the secluded room, holding back the curtains for you and Hyo to step in.
Inside, there is a glass coffee table, a large ceramic vase sitting at the center of it with white club chairs circling it. Behind, there is a lit wall with water beading down it, and a large mirror across from it.
You move to sit in the chair, but Hyo’s fast, pulling out your seat for you, an amused smile still stretched on her lips. You give her a light glare but mumble a “thank you” nonetheless.
The saleswoman, who’d stepped out for a second without you even realizing it, emerges again, though this time she’s carrying a golden tray like the man from before with refreshments and towels.
“Would you like a hot towel?” She holds it out for you using prongs.
“Sure.” You say hesitantly, grabbing the towel and feeling its warmth awaken your (somehow still) cold fingers.
The woman sets down the tray on the coffee table, presenting you with small cakes and snacks. “Please, take whatever you’d like, and let me know if you need anything else.”
You nod back, glancing at the delicious slices of cake with an edacious stare.
“And what name would your order be under?” The saleswoman asks.
You mutter your mother’s name, and the worker quickly nods, bows, then leaves the room. The second she’s out of sight, you hear a chuckle come from behind you, causing you to whip your head around with a glare.
Hyo covers her mouth with her hand, as she laughs.
“You’re evil, you know that?” You huff.
“Sorry, it’s really just so funny.” Hyo can’t hold back her laughter anymore, essentially all-out laughing at you. “You looked like a deer in headlights.”
“Because I was!” You exclaim. “I just wanted to pick up my mother’s order; why are they doing all this?” You gesture to the room in front of you.
“I told you,” Hyo briefly takes off her sunglasses to wipe away the small tears of laughter from the corner of her eyes. “You have more power than anyone in here. Of course they’re going to be kiss-ups.”
You sigh loudly, sitting back in your chair. “One order, that’s all I wanted… now I feel like they’re going to make me stay longer.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised.” Hyo agrees. “Just say in the nicest way possible that you want to leave, and they’ll let you.”
“You know, the least you could do is help me out.” You scoff lightheartedly. “I’m still new to this stuff.”
“I could do that…” Hyo nods while trailing off. “Or I could watch you struggle. It’s much funnier.” She bursts into a small chuckle at the end of the sentence.
“I hate you.” You groan.
“Oh come on, lighten up.” Hyo finally stops laughing, but her smile never leaves her. “Why don’t you try some of the snacks she gave you?”
You perk up at the thought, casting your eyes back on the tea cakes and tiny, but expensive-looking foods. You pick up what looks like a small slice of strawberry shortcake and eat it, the creamy filling and delicious jam making you smile widely. When you finish chewing–it takes less than a minute–you hold up the tray for Hyo to see. “Do you want some?”
“Nah, I’m good.” She shakes her head.
You move to place the tray down before she suddenly speaks again.
“Wait. Is there any chocolate cake…?”
Your trip to Louis Vuitton ended up yielding many revelations. Number one, Louis Vuitton has to be the worst case of sucking up that you’ve ever seen or experienced, and number two, Hyo is absolutely obsessed with anything chocolate flavored.
“How many free products do you think are in those bags?” You turn to look back at Hyo, who’s juggling three large Louis Vuitton bags in her arms–one of them your mother’s order and the rest filled with gifts–while trying to take a bite of the chocolate decorations she’d taken off of a cake.
“Too many to count.” She says, voice slightly muffled by the food in her mouth.
You laugh before turning back and walking down the sidewalk, passing by other high-end stores. You continue walking for a long stretch until you register the sound of heavy footsteps not too far away from you. You furrow your eyebrows; Hyo never walks with a heavy step.
You pause, “Hyo, what’s that sound?”
“What sound?” Hyo stops as well.
“Footsteps…” you trail off, looking from your left to your right, then behind. You don’t see anyone else trailing after you, your confusion doubling. Perhaps it was just your paranoia manifesting into phantom noises.
Hyo immediately snaps into professional mode, looking back as well. She reaches under her suit and feels for her gun holster, stepping forward. “Stay back a little, I’m going to check it out.” She advances quickly, her eyes scanning the area with calculating expertise.
When she reaches the corner of a store and an alleyway, she quickly turns into it, her gun held up.
Through the darkness of the night, Hyo is just barely able to make out the shocked faces of her Boss, and Lusher crouched next to the side of the building. “Boss?” Hyo whispers loudly, looking between Bada and Lusher.
“What are you doing?” Lusher whisper-yells back. “You’re supposed to be taking unnie into a jewelry store!”
“I would be if you weren’t stomping your feet behind us so loudly!” Hyo shoots back, lightly glaring at her friend.
“Yah, I told you to be quieter.” Bada scolds Lusher, nudging her arm. “You walk like you’re carrying one hundred pounds of extra weight.”
“Why are you two ganging up on me?” Lusher whines. “I’ll try to be more quiet–”
“Hyo?” Your voice breaks through the chilly night air, causing the three women to stiffen up. “Is everything alright?”
“Yup, yes!” Hyo steps out of the alleyway with a forced smile, giving you a thumbs-up. “Everything’s perfect! It was just some drunk stumbling around.”
You give Hyo a hesitant look before nodding and turning to stare at the passersby across the street.
She quickly ducks back into the alleyway, tucking her gun back into its holster. “Lusher, if you want to keep following us, either lighten your step or stay farther back.”
“Okay, I will.” Lusher pouts, receiving another nudge from Bada.
Your fiancée looks Hyo up and down, noticing the Louis Vuitton bags hanging from her arms. “You’re carrying her bags. Good.”
Hyo smiles widely. “Thanks, Boss.”
“Did the trip go smoothly?”
“Yes, she was a bit out of her depth at first, but she handled all the attention well,” Hyo reports back like a proud sister.
Bada smiles to herself, thinking about you awkwardly speaking to the workers in the Louis Vuitton store, not used to being attended to like a high-ranking socialite. Everything you do is endearing to her–she only wishes she was there to see you sparkling amongst snobbish shoppers. “That’s my girl.” She whispers to herself.
Hyo and Lusher barely catch what Bada said, but in response, they both look at each other knowingly and smile.
“Alright, don’t keep her waiting.” Bada cuts in, shifting her demeanor back to cold. “And make sure she stays warm.”
“Yes, Boss.” Hyo nods then steps out of the alleyway, approaching you with fast strides. “Sorry, I took so long.”
“It’s alright.” You shrug. “I was just doing some people-watching while I waited.”
“Right, well, the car is this way.” Hyo motions forward, only briefly glancing back to see Lusher and Bada’s head peeking out from the corner of the store.
You walk forward without a second thought, your head up in the clouds as you take in the beautiful starry sky, and the cloud of perspiration released when you exhale into the icy air. You walk in silence for the length of a block before Hyo breaks the silence.
“Oh, look, a jewelry store.” She tries to say casually as she stops right in front of it. “All of the pieces are beautiful.”
You pause where you stand, turning to face the store, a pit in your stomach growing. Your bodyguard is right, all the jewelry is beautiful. From teardrop diamond earrings to pearl necklaces and dainty bracelets.
But all you can look at are the rings.
The sign above them reads, “Two hearts, one love, forever in your ring.” You turn away from the store, a lump in your throat and a frown on your lips. Clearing your throat, you mumble. “Should we keep walking toward the car?”
Hyo glances to her right again, seeing Bada and Lusher motioning frantically at her to get you to go inside. “Uhhm, don’t you want to look at the pretty jewelry? Maybe pick something up for yourself?” She suggests.
“No–” You begin, but are cut off by a loud sound.
“Ow!” Lusher’s voice rings from behind the store, her hand rubbing at her foot. “You stepped on me–”
Bada slaps her hand over Lusher’s mouth, her eyes wide and her pointer finger coming up to make a “shush” motion. Lusher immediately calms down, suddenly realizing her mistake and wearing a mortified expression.
“What was that?” You take a step forward, about to head toward the sound before Hyo stands in your way.
“Probably just another drunk.” She says quickly. “No need to worry.”
You try to look over her shoulder, but she carefully pushes you forward and in the direction of the jewelry store. “Okay…”
“Well why don’t we go inside the jewelry store–”
“Actually, can we go home?” You ask, avoiding eye contact with the store and stepping back.
Hyo’s smile starts to twitch. “Come on, maybe just a peek–”
“Please.” You interrupt quietly, looking down at the floor.
Hyo sees out of her peripheral that Bada’s shaking her head and frowning, so she sighs and nods. “Alright, let’s go home.”
You turn and walk away quickly, eager to escape the thoughts plaguing your mind. Your bodyguard follows after you, having failed her mission terribly. Behind you, both Lusher and Bada step onto the sidewalk, the subordinate clutching her head in distress.
“She didn’t even look at the rings!” Lusher exclaims, deflated and looking dejected.
Bada remains quiet, watching you walk down the street, the wind whipping her coat around. “Something’s wrong.”
“Yeah, clearly! We’ll never find a ring for her at this rate,” Lusher says, expressing her frustration.
“No, I mean,” Bada pauses, placing her hand over the right side of her chest. “My heart. It hurts when I see her sad.”
Lusher stops whining, facing her boss with a caring expression. “What does it feel like?”
“It feels like I’m getting stabbed,” Bada admits, her face scrunching up in confusion and pain. “I want to rip my heart out and give it to her. I want to do everything in my power to make her smile when she frowns like that.”
Lusher lets out a deep sigh, sympathizing with her friend. “Oh, Bada…”
“I felt like this when she was taken by Seong,” Bada whispers. “But back then, I thought it was because I was worried about bringing her home safe.” She turns to face her subordinate, clutching her chest tightly. “Why do I feel like this?”
Lusher smiles sadly at her friend. “You’re in love.”
“...In love?”
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Love was not the answer, she concluded. No, love could never be the answer. Since you first arrived at her home, Bada made it clear to you that she’d never fall in love with you. So the mental and emotional anguish she’s been feeling for the past few days must have been due to the stress of her work… right?
Either way, whether it was unconsciously or consciously at first, Bada started to avoid you. She found that seeing you less would make the stabbing pain in her heart subside, and even if it didn’t fully fade away, throwing herself into her work was a perfect distraction.
But it wasn’t easy. Obviously, you began to notice that your already few-and-far-between visits from Bada became essentially nonexistent. So naturally, you started to make an effort to see her. You tried to bring her breakfast in the morning like you had during your first month in the Lee mansion but hit a wall.
“The Boss will be taking her breakfast alone from now on,” Lusher informs you, trying to hold back her frown when she sees the excitement in your eyes dim, and how you practically wilt.
“How long?” You whisper.
“For the foreseeable future,” Lusher says through gritted teeth. It’s taking everything in her to not just let you into Bada’s office. But at the end of the day, nothing is stronger than Bebe’s loyalty.
“Oh,” you take a step back, trying to wear a friendly smile but failing. “I’ll come see her later, then.”
Lusher hesitates. “Not to speak out of line, unnie…”
You perk up, looking into her eyes.
“But I think it’s best for your emotional state if you keep your distance,” she advises you, her tone gentle and full of care.
But of course, being the determined and stubborn woman you are, you don’t heed Lusher’s words… to your detriment.
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After days of only traveling between her office and her bedroom, Bada finally emerges from her work, having signed and looked over all the documents she’d been given for the week. In her desperation for a change in scenery, she left her office, completely forgetting why she’d been hiding away in the first place.
“Bada!” You call from behind her, a smile stretching across your lips.
The sound of your voice makes Bada freeze. The pain in her heart spikes, and a wave of regret flows through her. She doesn’t respond to you but stays rooted in her spot.
You run to your fiancée’s side, making quick eye contact with her. But the look she wears surprises you. Her dark brown, almost gray irises stare back at you like an impenetrable stone wall, hiding away any emotion she may be feeling.
For the first time in her life, Bada feels like she’s able to successfully hide her emotions. Because hearing your voice and seeing you makes every fiber of her body come to life. Perhaps it's because it’s been so long since she’s seen you.
The days she’d spent locked inside her office or bedroom made the sight of you even more irresistible. Your eyes, which she hadn’t met in what felt like decades shine under the light with an endearing gleam. Your body, which she hadn’t touched makes her fingers twitch, every digit aching to caress any and all of your flesh. Your lips…
Bada has to use all her willpower to stop herself from wrapping her arms around you and kissing you. The yearning her body has to embrace you and touch you drives her mad.
“Lusher was right.” Is all she can think.
…The realization disgusts her.
How could she be so selfish? How could she fall in love with you knowing full well all the torment and danger her feelings will bring you? How could she allow herself to fall victim to your every smile and caring saccharine phrases? How could she when she knows that she may end up laying in the street, sobbing, holding your cold body in her arms while you stare up at her, the light gone from your eyes, and crimson falling from your chest?
Your smile starts to slowly wither, a slightly timid expression encompassing your face. “Bada?” You mumble. “You finally came out of your office.”
A deathly silence echoes in the hallway, not a sound leaving Bada’s lips. She only moves her gaze away from you, instead staring straight in front of her.
“Uhm, I was going to ask you if we could maybe spend some time together?” Your voice comes out low, nervous, and like you’re unsure of yourself.
Again, that nasty tugging on Bada’s heart hits her, but this time she reacts to it by closing her eyes and breathing out through her nose. For her, it’s a method of calming herself down.
But to you, it relays a sense of annoyance you assume she’s feeling.
Once again she doesn’t answer you, making you shift uncomfortably in your spot. You stare at her with pleading eyes, begging her to say anything to you. Even just letting you know that she’s listening to you, and not acting like you’re a pesky fly on the wall, buzzing in her ear.
“I have work to do.” Finally, when she speaks, her tone is clipped, and full of ice.
You physically react, your limbs shaking at her phantom frost. Before you can even open your mouth again, Bada turns and walks in the opposite direction towards her office.
You’re left in the hallway, stunned and wondering if Bada was aware of the trail of heartbreak she’d left in her wake.
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And yet despite everything, you keep trying to get through to Bada.
You try because you care. You try because no matter how hard you remind yourself that your union to her was just business, you can’t stop yourself from falling in love with her.
She saved you from your parents, after all. She gave you a home that you could call yours–she introduced you to the Bebe girls, who you now considered your close friends. She brought you into a world of glitz and glamor, while still protecting you and watching over you with the utmost care.
How could you not fall in love with her?
So, with a world of fluttering butterflies nesting in the depths of your stomach, you take in a deep breath and knock on her office door. When you pull your fist away from the wood, you’re met with an uncomfortable silence. Swaying nervously, you play with your fingers, waiting another minute before mustering the courage to knock again.
This time, a small sound emanates from inside, perhaps a loud inhalation or the sound of an annoyed breath. Your stomach turns at the thought.
When you withdraw your fist from the wood, an uncomfortable silence engulfs the space. Swaying nervously, you toy with your fingers, mustering the courage to knock again after waiting another minute.
This time, a faint sound emanates from within, perhaps a pronounced inhalation or an exasperated breath. Your stomach churns at the notion.
"Who is it?" Bada's frosty voice compels you to stand tall, the butterflies in your belly fluttering wildly, creating a tempest.
“It’s me,” you speak cautiously.
For what feels like the millionth time, a hush falls between you and Bada.
“...I’m busy,” is all she utters in response.
You close your eyes and gulp, uncertain of your next move. On one hand, you don’t want to disturb Bada, especially when she sounds visibly irritated. On the other hand, the yearning to see your fiancée again is overpowering. Being separated from her renders the hallways of the Lee mansion colder, your life dimmer, and the world slower in its spin.
“Bada…” you trail off, your voice low and caring. “I haven’t spoken to you properly in days.”
This time, there's little dead air before a chair scrapes against the floor, and her footsteps approach the door. Surprised, you take a step back just before she opens the door, keeping it ajar so you can see her but not enter her office.
“I told you, I’m busy,” she says plainly, her gaze avoiding yours.
Your eyebrows furrow as you try to meet her eyes. “You should take a break; you've been working nonstop for days now.”
“I have to,” Bada defends her actions.
“I understand that,” you nod slowly, acknowledging the stress she must be under. “But it’s not good for your health.”
Truthfully, you didn’t want to say it aloud, but Bada looks exhausted. Bags and dark circles under her eyes, absent before, now paint a picture of fatigue. Moreover, the expression she wears hints at an imminent collapse.
“You should take a nap, or if you really don’t want to rest, we can relax and watch this drama together–” you start to grow excited at the idea, a smile forming on your lips.
Meanwhile, Bada confronts a dilemma. She acknowledges her love for you, plain and simple. She wants to eschew work, opting to watch a drama with you, to hold you close and sleep with the comforting weight of your presence. Yet, her mind brands her feelings as selfish, a slow-acting poison disguised in sweet wine—pleasurable until it brings forth your demise.
“You expect too much of me,” Bada says through gritted teeth, spitting the words out with venom that extinguishes the small smile you’d nurtured.
“What?” You breathe, confusion clouding your expression.
“You ask me to spend time with you, you want us to watch a drama together,” she lists. “These affections you are asking of me–” She cuts herself off, shaking her head with a bored expression. “It is inappropriate. We are not a couple.”
In just a few words, Bada annihilates your world. The meticulously crafted memories of your time with your fiancée crumble, collapsing under the weight of her words. "We are not a couple." The phrase echoes in your mind, torturing you until your ears ring.
You visibly flounder, opening and closing your mouth in genuine shock. “Where is this coming from?” You ask incredulously.
“I told you I would not fall in love with you,” Bada argues. “Our union was a tactical business move that benefitted me and your parents, that is all. You are nothing more to me.”
As if your heart could shatter further, it bleeds in your chest, oozes crimson red, and cries out to be spared. For a brief moment, you're left so shell-shocked that you almost lose all sense of self. Rooted in your spot, you stare into Bada’s eyes as every part of your body pulsates with insurmountable pain.
“We don’t act like we’re in a marriage of convenience,” you fight back, words a hushed and hurt whisper.
She doesn’t respond, simply looks ahead, acknowledging the truth. She hasn’t treated you as a friend for months, let alone an acquaintance for longer.
“Bada. Look at me,” you order, your voice gaining slight confidence.
Slowly, Bada shifts her gaze to meet yours. In her dark brown irises, a storm rages—a tempest of unspoken feelings concealed behind a sheet of ice. Staring into Bada’s eyes, you shake your head with a hurt expression. The woman in front of you is unrecognizable. She doesn’t resemble your fiancée and the woman you fell in love with; she's a shadow, an imitation.
"Who are you?" Your eyes question Bada.
“I don’t know,” her eyes confess.
You take a step back from Bada, tears welling in your eyes. “You are cruel, Bada Lee.” Without uttering another word, you turn and rush away, almost colliding with Lusher, standing around the corner with Tatter by her side.
Lusher watches you leave with a disapproving look. She glances at Bada, who stands stock-still, appearing as if she’d been stabbed in the heart.
Her boss makes eye contact with her. “What? Aren’t you going to tell me off?” Bada says harshly.
Lusher only shakes her head disapprovingly, looking away from her friend.
Bada scoffs, clicking her tongue as she brushes past Lusher and Tatter, heading toward the stairs and the door to the Lee mansion.
Tatter takes a step forward, a worried look on her face. “Shouldn’t we go after them?”
Lusher holds her arm out to stop Tatter from walking ahead. “It isn’t our place,” she says softly. “It’s time for Bada to face her past.”
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Blown glass casts colored shadows across Bada’s fair skin. Her grim expression contrasts with the bright colors, and the bouquet of sunflowers clutched between her fingers adds a touch of vibrancy. In front of her, a gold placard engraved with her mother’s name stares back at her.
“Hello, mother,” Bada murmurs into the open air. “I’m sorry; it’s been a while since I’ve visited you. I’ve been busy.” She shifts her gaze to the floor. “I met a woman.” She utters your name with reverence, “You would have loved her.”
She closes her eyes, envisioning your lively and beautiful countenance.
“You’ll be surprised to hear that I'm engaged to her now. We are to be wed in December.”
“You are cruel, Bada Lee.” Her mind echoes your words, and she opens her eyes.
“Well, perhaps not anymore,” Bada steps forward, exchanging the wilting flowers beside her mother’s grave with a new bouquet. The bright yellow sunflowers pop next to the gold, infusing the room with more color. “She made me feel strange emotions,” Bada confesses.
She thinks back to the first time she had a proper conversation with you. You’d come into her office and brought her breakfast, standing tall and confident as you poked and prodded, asking questions about her.
“When she’s happy, I’m at peace,” Bada reflects. Her thoughts then shift to Seong. “When she was taken from me, I was infuriated.” Her fingers unconsciously curl into a fist. She places her hand over her heart, feeling it beat wildly against her palm.
Her heart sings for you, no matter where she might be.
“But I know better.” Bada shakes her head. “I know better than to let myself care about her.” She thinks of the way she’d spoken to you an hour prior–how she’d lied to you– “So I hurt her.” She says, her voice low and full of shame. “I said whatever I could think of to make her hate me.”
Outside, the wind whips violently, thrumming against the mausoleum.
“...Because loving me is a death wish.”
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13 years ago 
A bright-eyed, 15-year-old Bada Lee steps out of her private school, her eyes scanning the myriad of luxury cars to find a silver Ferrari LaFerrari, the hypercar her bodyguard drives. Suddenly, the sound of a loud engine pulls up next to the curb of the school, right in front of where Bada stands.
“Ms. Lee.” Chung-Hee steps out of the car, a pair of black sunglasses covering his eyes. “Are you ready to go home?”
“Yes!” Bada nods excitedly, heading toward Chung-Hee. He quickly moves to grab her backpack before opening the car door, the silver sides of the car shooting up into the air like wings. “Thank you,” Bada says as she piles in, a wide smile on her face.
Chung-Hee simply nods as he sets her backpack in the front passenger seat before sitting in the driver’s spot. He pulls out of the driving lot with ease, heading away from the school. “How was your day today, Ms. Lee?”
“Very good.” Bada nods. “Actually, I was talking to some of my friends…”
“Seoyoung Lee, right?”
“Yes.” Bada smiles. “She and some others were talking about taking some dance classes after school–”
“Ms. Lee…” Chung-Hee sighs. “You are already very busy with your English and piano lessons, not to mention horseback riding and taekwondo–”
“I know that, Chung.” Bada huffs endearingly. “But this is something I really want to do, not just another hobby my father makes me take up so that I can find a husband.”
Chung-Hee lightly drums his fingers against the wheel. “You’ll have to ask both your father and your mother–”
“Yes, I know that.” Bada makes a cheeky expression. “That is why I’m going to speak to my mother right when we arrive home so that she can convince my father.”
“Ah, your mother is not currently home,” Chung-Hee informs her. “She is buying groceries for dinner tonight.”
“Then will you take me to her, please?” Bada begs, pitching her tone upwards.
“I was instructed to take you straight home–”
“Pleaseeee Chung?” Bada continues, staring through the rearview mirror so that her bodyguard can see her properly.
Chung-Hee sighs in defeat. “One of these days you’re going to get me fired.”
Bada squeals in excitement, practically bouncing in her seat. “You know that’s not true. My father considers you a close friend.”
“I guess I am lucky in that regard.” Chung-Hee breathes.
“Well, anyway…” Bada sits back, her smile never dimming. “How is your daughter, Chung?”
Immediately, Chung-Hee sits up in his seat, a bright grin overtaking his lips. “She’s great, thank you for asking. And she’s doing wonderfully in school.”
“You must be proud of her then.”
“Yes, I am,” Chung-Hee says fondly. “She’s so intelligent, it blows my mind.”
Bada smiles sadly as she nods.
“And she looks up to me. Says she wants to be just like me when she’s older.”
“She sounds wonderful, Chung,” Bada whispers.
The rest of the car ride continues in a comfortable silence, although Bada shifts her gaze to stare out of the window. She counts every passing minute, becoming more and more restless to see her mother.
Finally, the car eventually slows down across the street from a grocery store. Bada starts to grin, practically buzzing in her seat. Sensing her excitement, Chung-Hee parks the car and quickly exits, opening the door, only for Bada to practically shoot out of the car and rush over to the grocery store.
Chung-Hee only sighs. “Yah, one day she really is going to get me fired.”
Inside the grocery store, Bada barely pays attention to the way the shoppers gape at her, only intent on finding her mother. She uses her long legs to quickly make her way through the aisles until she spots a familiar head of hair near the fresh produce. Bada makes her way over to her mother, calling out to her.
“Mother!” She says, only a few feet away.
Bada’s mother immediately turns around, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion until she spots her daughter rushing toward her. “Bada?” She responds, a smile growing on her lips. “What are you doing here?”
Bada stops right in front of her mother, throwing her arms around her in a hug that the older woman immediately reciprocates. “Chung-Hee told me you weren’t home, so I asked him to drive me here.”
“And where is he now?” Bada’s mother scans the store, searching for a tall man wearing sunglasses.
“Oh…” Bada unwarps herself from her mother and then turns to look behind her, only now noticing her bodyguard is nowhere to be seen. “I must have left him behind.”
Her mother sighs and shakes her head disapprovingly. “Where are your manners, Bada? You have that poor man running after you all day.”
“Sorry,” Bada mumbles out half-sincerely. Her mother glances at her before gently patting her back, prompting her to continue walking. “Are you done shopping?”
“Yes, I have everything I need to make dinner tonight.” Her mother smiles.
“Why do you come to grocery stores anyway?” Bada asks. “The staff bring in fresh ingredients and foods every day.”
“They do, and while I appreciate all they do for us,” her mother walks over to the cash register, placing her groceries on the counter. “It’s important to never become lazy. As your mother and the woman of the house, it’s my responsibility to prepare you and your father’s dinner, even occasionally.”
Bada listens to her mother’s words carefully, nodding along in agreement. She watches her mother hand over a heavy golden credit card to the cashier, who is about to refuse the payment, but her mother’s bright smile and persistence makes him give in and take the card, charging her for the food.
“Besides, the staff deserve to rest every once and a while, don’t you think?” Bada’s mother continues.
“Yeah.” Bada remains in awe of her mother’s humility and kindness.
“What made you so eager to see me that you came all the way here, by the way?” She asks her daughter, helping the worker bag her groceries, despite his insistence that he should do it himself.
“Ah,” Bada suddenly smiles nervously, grabbing two of the heaviest bags to help her mother carry out of the grocery store. “Do you remember my friend Seoyoung?”
“Of course I do, she’s your oldest friend, isn’t she?”
Bada nods. “Well she and some of my other friends wanted to take some dance classes after school, and maybe join a dance club afterward–”
“I see.” Her mother nods. “So you came to ask me to convince your father to let you, is that right?”
Bada stares at her mother with a sheepish expression. “Yes.”
“I don’t know, Bada. Won’t you be much too tired after school? And don’t forget you have piano lessons right after–”
“I promise I can handle it.” She says with conviction. “I’ll do all my lessons and taekwondo every day even after dance.”
“You’ll be exhausted–”
“I won't,” Bada argues with a small pout. “Please, mother: I think dance is something I could be very good at.”
The older woman pauses, turning to look into her daughter’s eyes. She sees them shine with confidence and pure hope, which makes her smile. “Okay,” she nods. “I’ll speak to your father about it.”
“Yes!” Bada cheers, side-hugging her mother the best she can with her hands preoccupied. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
The older woman laughs, leaning into her daughter’s side. “Of course. If dancing is something you think you’ll enjoy, then I fully support you trying it out.”
That evening, under the warm Seoul sun, Bada experiences her last moments of pure happiness, unencumbered by worries or fear. She simply laughs with her mother, her heart bursting at the seams with love for the woman who cared for and nurtured her.
Her happiness blinds her to the moving figure across the street.
Ji-ah, Bada’s mother’s bodyguard has his head down as he crosses the street. Her mother smiles at him, greeting him again with a wave. But her eyes catch something, a glint of silver clutched in his right hand and almost completely concealed from her by his suit jacket. Her smile fades, confusion stretching across her face until she spots another man peering from the corner of a building, a nasty smirk on his face.
A blur of motion crosses Bada’s eyes before a loud popping sound fills the air.
The neighborhood falls into silence after, Bada jolting at the noise in shock. She looks around the street blearily, her mind still trying to catch up as her ears ring.
“Mo–” Before Bada can call out to her, the body of her mother falls into hers. They collapse in the street, grocery bags broken and food spilling out onto the concrete as Bada lets out a small huff of pain and surprise. She looks down, finding her mother splayed across her lap, a gunshot wound in her chest. “M-Mother?” Bada stutters in shock, her eyes growing wide in horror as she wraps her arms around her mother’s body.
In her daughter’s lap, Mrs. Lee breathes heavily, her eyes glazing over as pools of crimson fall from her chest, staining Bada’s hands bright red.
“No, no, no.” Bada breathes, placing her hand against her mother’s wound. “Ma… ma please stay awake.” She pleads, tears beginning to fall from her eyes as her heart pounds in her chest, a stabbing pain puncturing the organ. 
“Are you hurt?” Her mother barely manages to choke out, raising her pale hand to clutch the side of her daughter’s face.
“No.” Bada shakes her head, now fully sobbing.
A few feet away, Chung-Hee finally arrivies near the grocery store, having been held back by a group of men. He recognised them to be lackeys of a rival of Mr. Lee, and swung before they got the jump on him. He managed to beat them all to a pulp before rushing down the street, his mind racing with thoughts of Mrs. Lee and Bada being in potential danger.
Before he could make it to them he spots Ji-ah brandishing a gun, and holding it up in their direction. He fires without a second thought, hitting Mrs. Lee. 
Chung-Hee pulls out his gun quickly, shooting at Ji-ah across the street. He manages to hit him in the chest, then quickly fires again, emptying five more rounds into the traitor before Ji-ah falls to the concrete, dead.
Bada, unable to focus on the chaos around her only stares at her mother while sobbing, rocking back and forth. “Umma,” she cries, “Umma please, stay awake!”
Mrs. Lee only smiles, brushing her thumb against her daughter’s cheek. “You are beautiful.” She utters, her eyes filled with pure love and adoration. “I could not have asked for a kinder, gentler daughter.”
“Umma,” Bada closes her eyes, shaking her head as her tears grow hot, their salty liquid burning her cheeks.
“I love you.” Mrs. Lee whispers.
With the last of her strength gone, her eyes glaze over and her hand falls away from Bada’s cheek, hitting the concrete with a thud.
“No, umma!” Bada practically screams, clutching her mother’s body close to her chest as her frame starts to physically shake. “I love you too, please don’t leave me! Please, umma!”
Chung-Hee rushes over to Bada’s side, trying to separate her from her mother’s dead body. Bada only shoves him away, her eyes full of pure sorrow.
The sound of fast-approaching cars–her father’s men– just barely registers in Bada’s mind, reminding her of the shooter.
Bada shifts her gaze to the dead body across the street, her eyes going ice-cold at the sight of Ji-ah sprawled across the concrete.
Poison.
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“Would you hate me for what I’ve done?” Bada speaks to her mother’s headstone. “For pushing her away?”
The wind thrashes against the windows.
“Because I do.” Bada admits.
The sunflowers next to her mother’s headstone quiver withthe breeze.
“I don’t know what to do with myself.” Bada places her hands over her eyes, feeling tears build inside them. “I should be happy that she hates me. I should be happy that she’ll stay away from me and be safe, but–”
The tears she’s been holding in finally break through. For what feels like the first time in 13 years, Bada Lee cries.
“I hate myself. I want to tear myself apart for all the things I said to her.” She confesses, sobbing. “I love her. I love her more than anything.”
The sunflowers shake.
“I want to be with her. I want to tell her that I love her. I want to spend the rest of my life with her.” Bada’s heart races in her chest as she heaves. She tears her hands away from her face so she can see her mother’s headstone. “I wish you were here to guide me–to tell me what to do–”
Suddenly, the violent winds from outside cause the door to the mausoleum to whip open, the strong breeze blows past Bada, swiping the tears from her cheeks and rushing toward the sunflowers. The sheer force of the wind sends flower petals into the air, making Bada stare up at them in shock.
Then, a memory comes rushing back to the forefront of her mind.
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22 years ago
Six year old Bada races through the garden next to her father’s office, giggling at the small birds nesting in a tree above her. She tries to reach for them–but although being very tall for her age–she can’t touch the branch they reside on.
Bada tries to stretch her legs even further, standing on her tippytoes as she reaches her arms up–but she immediately loses her balance, making her wobble until she falls back.
Unfortunately, Bada’s excitement made her blind to the fact that just behind her lied a bushel of roses, their thorns giving her a painful greeting as her back and arms get caught on the spikes.
“Ouch!” She hisses, quickly removing herself from the flowers. She now has a few cuts and scrapes littering her arms, which makes tears rush to her eyes. She starts to sniffle, about to begin crying–
“Bada.” The sound of her mom’s voice distracts her, making the young girl look up.
“Umma.” Bada says tearrily.
“What happened?” Mrs. Lee rushes over to her daughter’s side, her eyes filled with worry as they take in the small cuts all over her arms.
“I fell into the–the thorns.” Bada hiccups, pointing at the offending flowers.
“Bada, I told you not to play near the roses.” Her mother softly scolds her, gently picking her daughter up and placing her in her lap.
“I’m sorry umma.” Bada sniffles, wiping her tears away with the palm of her hands.
“It’s alright, sweetheart.” Mrs. Lee looks over her daughter’s injuries. “Thankfull, none of the cuts are too deep, but I’ll clean them–”
Bada, now much less emotional, shifts her attention away from her mother, instead staring up to find the birds in the tree above them. They rub their beaks and heads against each other, their eyes closed as they rest in their nest.
“Umma.” Bada suddenly interrupts her mother.
Mrs. Lee pauses, noticing her daughter is looking upward, and glances up as well. “Yes?”
“What does being in love feel like?”
Her mother looks down at her in surprise, a small smile growing on her lips. “Why do you ask?”
Bada looks away from the birds and at her feet instead. “Some of my friends were talking about love because Valentine’s Day is coming up. They said we should give chocolates to boys we love.”
Mrs. Lee’s smile widens, “Ah, I see.”
“But I don’t feel anything when I think about the boys in my class.” Bada mumbles. “So I want to know what I should be feeling.”
Mrs. Lee caresses the top of her daughter’s hair, completely endeared by the young girl. “You’re still young, Bada. You might not feel such strong emotions yet.”
Bada looks up at her mother, her eyes wide and pleading.
Mrs. Lee sighs, then nods. “Alright.” She moves her daughter around in her lap so she’s facing her. “When you’re in love, all you can think about is your partner. You wake up in the morning and your mind instantly goes to them. ‘What are they doing right now?’ ‘Have they eaten breakfast yet?’ ‘Did they sleep well?’” Bada’s mother mumbles. “When you’re with them, you smile very wide.” She reaches over to pinch her daughter’s cheeks, stretching her lips into a smile. Young Bada giggles at the action, her lips easily forming a grin.
Her mother laughs along with her, removing her hands from her daughter’s cheeks.
“And when you’re away from them, you’re very sad.” She makes a small frown, which Bada mimics cutely. “You want to be with them every waking moment.”
Bada glances down at her lap, her eyebrows furrowing. “And what if I can’t tell if I’m in love or not?”
“Oh, you’ll know.” Mrs. Lee nods.
“How?” Bada pouts.
Her mother thinks for a moment before smiling. She grabs her daughter’s arms and slowly starts to place kisses on her small cuts. Bada looks at her mother in surprise, a few giggles slipping from her lips at the action.
“You'll realize you're in love when you see your partner hurt, and all you want to do is make them feel better,” her mother mumbles. “You wish you had magical powers to heal all their wounds–” She places a kiss on Bada’s last cut. “So, you end up kissing every injury to help them heal.”
Bada breathes in wonder, her eyes glittering under the sunlight. “Is that why appa always gives you a kiss when you get hurt?”
“Yes.” Mrs. Lee nods, grinning widely. “He helps me get better, and it’s his way of telling me he loves me.”
“But what if one day you get really hurt, and appa isn’t there to give you a kiss?” Bada asks. “Will you not heal?”
“In that case, I’ll have to be strong and get better on my own.” Her mother whispers softly. “Although I wish I could, I can’t always rely on your father to take care of me. I need to be independent as well.”
“I think I know what it means to be in love now.” Bada smiles. “I’m excited to fall in love!”
Mrs. Lee laughs warmly. “That’s good, sweetheart. You should be very excited to find someone who will also kiss your wounds.” Together, mother and daughter sit in the garden, their heads and hearts filled with love. 
A strong breeze suddenly whips around them, plucking a few sunflower petals from the bushel next to the roses. They dance and flutter in the air, making both Bada and her mother stare up at them in amazement. 
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As yellow sunflower petals fall onto the mausoleum floor, Bada smiles widely. She closes her eyes and nods. “I understand now, mother.” Opening her eyes, she glances at her mother’s headstone. “I know what I must do.”
She says one final goodbye to the resting place of her mother before racing out of the private cemetery, and toward her Porsche 918 Spyder. She’s about to pull out of the parking lot when her eyes catch a store across the street. She freezes in her spot, mesmerized.
There, on display, a misty gem sat atop a golden band surrounded by small diamonds, with flower-shaped gold holding onto the gem. It’s a unique, but beautiful ring.
“Perfect.” Bada breathes.
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Arriving back at the Lee mansion, a cloud of sorrow and heartbreak fills the halls. Bada winces as she trudges up the stairs, guilt causing her throat to close up. Her feet take a mind of their own, leading her on autopilot to the place where she longs to be most, with you.
Bada stares at the wood of your door, suddenly feeling immensely nervous. She wonders if you’d felt this way when you bravely knocked on her door hours prior.
She raises her fist to knock, her ears just barely picking up the sound of small sniffles behind the door. Her heart screams in her chest.
She waits a few moments with no response before grabbing onto the doorknob, and twisting it open. Bada steps into your room hesitantly, her eyebrows furrowing at what she sees.
You’re sitting in your bed, your hands covering your eyes as you silently weep into them. Lusher sits beside you, rubbing your back soothingly as she tries to calm you. She looks up at the sound of Bada coming in, her eyes moving to Hyo who stands next to the door.
Hyo does nothing, simply glances between you and her boss while gnawing her bottom lip.
Lusher casts her disapproving gaze onto Bada, but her friend quickly shakes her head. Bada steps forward and walks to your side, kneeling next to the bed.
“Hey,” She says to you softly.
You don’t look up at her, only inch closer to Lusher.
Bada closes her eyes and swallows a lump in her throat. “I’m sorry.” She whispers sincerely.
Your cries seem to slowly die down at her words, now becoming small sniffles.
“I’m ready to tell you everything if you’re willing to listen.”
You finally take your hands away from your face to look up at Lusher. She stares back at you and smiles, nodding kindly. You take in a deep breath, “Okay.”
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Sand crunches below you, and the sound of ocean waves whipping against each granule soothes your nerves. The night is cold, which makes you regret wearing the beige, glittery dress you’d chosen. You clutch at your arms, feeling goosebumps rise from your skin.
Bada notices you shivering and takes off her black coat. “Here.” She whispers, draping it over your shoulders and rubbing her slim hands up and down your arms to warm you up.
You stare at Bada, hating how your heart leaps in your chest at her tender care. You want to stew in your anger and hurt, but the way she looks at you with so much warmth and regret makes you melt. You’re weak.
Bada, now in a simple black shirt and brown slacks steps back. “Is that better?”
“Yes.” You mumble, looking at the sand pooling under your feet.
Bada nods, breathing out deeply. “Okay.” She looks incredibly nervous in front of you, and you almost want to soothe her worries. “I’m not sure how to start this…” She trails off. “But I want you to know that I’m sorry.”
You look up from the sand to stare into Bada’s eyes.
“The things I said to you were disgusting lies.” She admits, shame encompassing her expression. “You are more to me than just a business deal. You have been from the start.”
In the background, the ocean waves begin to calm.
“I never told you this, but…” She shakes her head, a ghost of a smile on her lips. “the day that we met, I came to talk to your parents to break off the deal.”
Your eyes go wide, and a look of confusion grows on your expression.
“I’d been having second thoughts about our engagement.” She closes her eyes, remembering that day vividly. “I was going to tell them that I wanted to call it off, but then–” her smile turns soft. “You walked in.”
Suddenly, you no longer feel cold, the heat of Bada’s coat and confession making every part of your body burn.
“And you were so beautiful. Like nothing I’d ever seen. So beautiful, and so smart.” She opens her eyes, taking your hands into hers. “I knew then and there that I had to go along with the deal. That I had to make you mine.”
You squeeze Bada’s hands, tears beginning to flow into your eyes.
“But I was terrified. I was so terrified of my feelings.” She starts to tear up as well. “If I were to let you fall in love with me, I would be putting your life at risk. I told myself I was being selfish.”
You want to cut in and deny everything that she says, but you let her talk.
“When my mother died…” Bada chokes on her words–she has to close her eyes and steady her breathing to continue. “She stepped in front of a bullet for me.”
The tears you’d been trying to hold back release, your heart aching in your chest in sympathy for your fiancée.
“Her bodyguard betrayed us... he was aiming to kill me but–” She takes another deep breath. “My mother took the shot.”
“Oh, Bada…” You whisper, throwing your arms around her to pull her into a hug.
Bada breaks down in the comfort of your arms, sobbing violently, and finally releasing 13 years worth of guilt. You hold onto her the entire time, rubbing her back and whispering sweet nothings into her ears.
"I should've been the one to die that day," she cries. "My parents could have had another child—a son. Someone they could be proud to pass on the business to."
“Bada Lee, you are the most hardworking woman I’ve ever met.” You insist. “Your parents would be so proud of what you’ve made of their business.”
Bada tightens her hold on your waist. “I’m sorry.” She slowly unravels herself from you, wiping her tears as she steels herself. “There’s nothing I want more in this world than to wake up next to you every morning. I want to stay by your side for what little time we may have together.”
You bite your lip, trying to stop your sobs from passing beyond your lips.
Bada takes your hand and suddenly starts walking toward a faint light in the distance of the beach. You give her a confused look but follow her anyway until you finally see what she’s bringing you toward.
Rose petals are scattered on the beach sand to create a makeshift walkway, lanterns with burning candles lighting up the sides of it while a small arch in the shape of a heart lies beyond the petals.
You instantly clasp your hands over your mouth, breathing out in shock and awe, turning to face Bada who only smiles at you. She takes both of your hands once again, then slowly starts to lower herself onto the sand, taking one knee in front of you.
“When I look at you, I see my future in your eyes. I know who I am with you.” She places a kiss on your knuckles. “I am selfish. I am a woman who will devote her every waking moment to caring and protecting you.”
She slips her hand into the pocket of her brown slacks and pulls out a black box. You start to openly sob when she opens it and reveals a beautiful engagement ring.
“So, will you allow me to be a selfish woman, and love you until the end of my days?”
“Yes!”
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A mess of kisses and wandering hands, you and Bada trail into her private beach house. It’s small but cozy and intimate, exactly what you two need.
Bada guides you in the direction of the master bedroom, never separating from your soft lips. She huffs, her hot breaths caressing your skin as she opens the door and walks toward the bed. It’s decorated in even more rose petals that you crush when she lays you down, and hovers on top of you.
“I’ve said some terrible things to you today,” Bada whispers. “So let me make it up to you.” She places her hand over your right breast, squeezing it and making you moan. “Will you let me?” She asks. “Will you let me…make love to you?”
“Yes.” You breathe. “Yes, Bada.”
Bada smiles, closing her eyes in bliss at the way you alluringly say her name. “I love your voice.” She trails her slim fingers down your body before bringing them up again, and carefully helping you peel your shining dress off your body.
You’re left in your panties and your bra, heaving, passionate breaths making your chest rise and fall in quick succession. Bada stares at your breasts unabashedly before dragging her eyes over every inch of your body. She looks in complete and utter awe, taking in a sharp breath.
“I love your body.” She continues, lowering her hands to your panties, slowly pushing them aside. She finds your pussy glistening with slick, her eyes drinking in the sight with fiery irises. Bada parts your lips, watching carefully as strings of wetness cling to them, revealing your pearly, throbbing clit.
As if in a trance, she brings her thumb up to it, rubbing it up and down with varying degrees of pressure, studying how you cry out in pleasure at each motion.
“Do you like that?” She whispers, staring to trial kisses on your neck and breasts.
“Yes.” You immediately respond, losing yourself in the simple pleasure your faincée gives you. All the months of being untouched have made you so sensitive–so, so sensitive to the point that you’re releasing ridiculous amounts of slick onto Bada’s fingers.
“I want to feel you,” Bada confesses, moving her fingers away from your clit and to your hole. She traces her finger around it before gently inserting one in, your pussy sucking her in without any complaint. “Ah,” she breathes, closing her eyes. “You’re so warm.”
You let out a strangled moan at her words, begging her to continue.
She does as you ask, pushing her finger in deep before dragging it out–again and again she does this, slowly building up her pace until she’s driving her finger into you at an incredible speed. “You’re so warm, honey. So wet.” She repeats, stars in her eyes as she moves to kiss you passionately, all tongue and spit.
“More, please.” You ask again.
“Of course.” She whispers against your lips. Bada takes another finger and inserts it into you, the almost painful but pleasurable stretch makes you cry out, grabbing her unoccupied hand to squeeze it. “There you go.” She says fondly. “Make as much noise as you want to, honey. It’s just us.”
So you let yourself go, practically moaning like a porn star as Bada pounds her fingers into you, your slick sloshing against them and pruning up her digits. She doesn’t seem to care at all, instead changing their position to crook them upwards, dragging them along your walls, indulging you in sexual gratification like you’ve never felt before.
“I want you to cum all over my fingers.” She breathes, the words so heavy you can barely make them out. “Cover me in your juices. Do it.”
Driving her point, Bada lowers her face to your pussy, licking her long tongue against your clit. She flicks it, then takes it into her mouth, swirling her tongue against it.
You immediately cry out in pleasure, your mouth gaping open and eyes closing shut as your fiancée smirks against your clit. She continues her pace, pistoning her fingers in and out of you until she brushes your sweet spot–
“Oh my god!” You scream, your eyes almost rolling back in sheer bliss. “Right there, right there!”
Bada opens her eyes–her lids heavy as makes eye contact with you. “Right here?” She pushes her finger in once again, crooking it up perfectly so that it hits your g-spot perfectly. “Oh yeah, that’s the spot, isn’t it?” She mutters to herself, a proud smile finding her lips.
That, coupled with one long, hard suck and swirl from her tongue on your clit makes your eyes roll back, insurmountable pleasure flowing through you as you cum.
“Soak me.” Bada guides you through it, holding onto your hand tightly to ground you as you embark on a world of bliss, her fingers and mouth never slowing down until you start to whine. 
“Please–” you choke out, your pussy sensitive from her touch.
Your fiancée slows her fingers and pops her mouth off your pussy, licking her lips before she fully pulls out her digits from inside of you. When she does, a gush of cum follows in her wake, trailing down and falling onto the linen sheets. She smiles at the sight, lifting her fingers to her mouth and sucking on your juices.
“I love the way you taste.” She separates her fingers to show you the beads of her spit and your slick combined into one debauched substance.
You sit up from bed, crawling over to her with a mischievous look. You grab her hand and bring it up to your lips, sucking on her fingers gently, moving your head up and down in a sensual motion.
“Fuck.” Bada watches you in awe, her cunt pulsing against her boxers and layers of clothes. “How are you so effortlessly alluring?”
You look up at your fiancée, dragging her fingers out of your mouth. “Bada…”
“Yes?” She asks, using her clean hand to brush her thumb over your cheek lovingly.
“Can I touch you too?” You drag your hand down Bada’s chest, stopping just before the waistband of her slacks.
Bada smiles and nods, grabbing your hand and beginning to take off her black shirt. She pulls it off of her body easily, letting it fall to the floor as her hand moves to remove her sports bra as well. You take the time to also remove your bra, now fully exposed while Bada takes off her slacks.
You try your hardest not to stare at her, but with every movement she does, her lean abs move, and her muscled arms strain. Bada Lee has an amazing body, and you can’t help but gape.
Your fiancée, unaware of your stare finally strips herself of her boxers–which she notes are wet with slick–and moves back onto the bed.
“You’re so pretty.” You whisper to her bashfully, moving your fingers up and down her abs.
The action makes Bada release a heavy breath from her nose, your feather-light touch making her abdominals stretch. “Thank you.” She smiles, leaning in to place a warm sweet kiss on your lips. 
You break away after a moment, leaning your head down and motioning for Bada to lay back. She does so immediately, encouraging you to do as you please with a hand on the back of your head. 
You slowly lower your head so you’re face-to-face with Bada’s cunt. You notice a few beads of wetness fall from her folds, making you smile proudly. She’s just as riled up as you.
Without a second thought, you part her lips like she had yours and place your hot mouth on her cunt, making her hiss. She throws her head back, once again her abs stretching as her long hair falls against her face. “Ah, fuck.”
You move your tongue inside of her, eyes going doe when she stares down at you with burning irises, so full of passion and heat that you unconsciously rub your thighs together, slick building between your legs again.
“You’re so good at that, baby.” Bada moans, grabbing your hair with enough force so that she can move you while still keeping her grip painless. She has to hold herself back–remember that this is about making love not fucking. Her full strength could truly hurt you. “Fuck yeah.” She curses, moving your head up and down as she uses you to pleasure herself.
You slip into a submissive role, allowing Bada to move and use you in any way, happy to bring her the same amount of ecstasy that she’d given you. You move your tongue in and out of her hot, gummy walls, slick running down your chin and the column of your throat until it dribbles in between the valley of your breasts.
Bada watches every movement and groans loudly, turned on out of her mind. She moves your head up and down faster, feeling every drag of your tongue and the pressure of your nose against her clit.
She’s so close, right there–
“Wait–” She breathes, letting go of your head. “Wait.”
You instantly shoot up, worried you’ve done something wrong. “Wha–”
Bada flips your position so you’re below her again. She takes your leg and crooks it against her hip, placing her cunt just inches away from your pussy. “I want to cum with you.” She heaves.
You stare up at your fiancée, your heart swelling in your chest to the point you’re worried it’ll burst. You grab her unoccupied hand and nod, smiling sweetly at her.
She smiles back, running her thumb over the engagement ring resting on your ring finger. She places a kiss on it before she uses her strength to lift herself up, and slowly lower her pussy against yours. She lets out another kiss, her cunt still sensitive from her almost release just minutes prior.
She starts out slow, rubbing up and down and positioning herself so that her lips meet the parting of yours. She encourages you to move with her, using her grip on your thigh to help you gain a rhythm in rubbing yourself against her.
You’re both so wet that loud squelching noises fill the air, your skin parting with strings of juices touching each other’s skin lewdly. Bada then starts to speed up her pace, rubbing up against your pussy as she sighs blissfully. She drags her hand up to your breast, grabs your nipple between her fingers, and starts to rub.
You let out a small moan which makes your fiancée twist your nipple with a bit more force, and then angle down enough so that she can flick her tongue against it. She takes your breast into her mouth, sucking rather harshly to pull out a louder moan from your parted lips.
She pops off your breast to smirk, pushing both of them together. “I love your tits.” She spits on them, then flattens her tongue and drags it across your nipples.
“Bada…” You trail off, tears of pleasure falling from your eyes.
“I know baby,” she mutters, her voice hitching when she angles her hips down at the perfect spot and applies just the perfect amount of pressure–she does it again. A mix of her groan and your cry ringing in the air. She slaps her pussy against your own, the shock of bliss shoots up her spine, and makes her curse. “Fuck, cum with me.” She closes her eyes, losing herself in the pleasure. “Fucking cum with me, honey. Let go and give me your all. I want it.”
So you give her what she wants.
Both you and Bada cum seconds later, both of your eyes closed tight in ecstasy as your pussies still rub against each other’s, riding out the high until you no longer can.
Your fiancée is the first to pull away, gently letting go of your thigh and stretching it onto the bed. Exhausted, she flops beside you, breathing heavily.
“How do you feel?” She checks up on you, her eyes finding yours in an instant.
“So good.” You admit with a smile.
Bada grins back at you, scooting closer to you until her body is pressed against your side. She flips you around so that you’re facing her as she wraps her arms around your waist. “Hi.” She mumbles sweetly.
“Hi.” You mumble back, holding back a giggle.
Both of your bodies are hot and shining with sweat, but neither of you cares. You stay tangled together, simply staring into each other’s eyes.
This time when you look into her irises, there’s no storm brewing–no icey wall keeping you separated from her. Just her pretty, dark brown irises. This is the woman you’d fallen in love with.
Your fiancée’s eyes say, “I know who I am.”
“I’m glad,” yours say back.
Bada leans forward, rubbing her nose against yours in a sweet gesture. Then she moves to place her lips inches away from your ear, whispering, “I love you.”
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❝ the pain of grief is just as much a part of life as the joy of love; it is, perhaps, the price we pay for love, the cost of commitment. ❞
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taglist:
@aericrys, @somerandomtinyperson, @bluebada, @dallaji, @luvjanexx, @hyejuwu, @diana-rose-25, @jjlovesbada, @cephox, @prilux, @youknow1234, @fae-the-wanderer @mightymyo, @aein-tings, @badasgirlfriend, @onlyyou-metanoia, @wiselight @badasoneandonly, @multiliker, @badabonita, @randomhoex, @justaharmlesspotat0, @sporadicfacebasement, @4bada, @seungxstar, @urlovebot, @neuftaeng, @hyunsllvr, @aixicl, @itzmy
(if your name is crossed out i wasn't able to to tag you)
want to join the taglist? send me a message or comment saying you'd like to be on it, and i'll add you!
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556 notes · View notes
alotofpockets · 3 months
Text
Out of reach | Mary Earps
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Pairing: Mary Earps x Reader
Request: Mary x taller R where they have to keep helping her reach for things
Masterlist | Woso masterlist | Words: 1k
-----
You were browsing your local supermarket for dinner inspiration after a long work day. The day had been filled with important meetings, and you were still dressed for the part. You ended up in the pasta aisle where you saw a woman trying to reach for a jar that was slightly pushed back on the top shelf. Without a second thought you walked towards here, “Let me get that for you.” You say and reach for it. 
The moment you hand the woman the can, is the first time you see her face. You were mesmerised by her beauty. “Thank you, it was just out of my reach.” The woman said with a beaming smile. Her words snapped you out of staring, “Of course, no problem.” The woman in front of you looks between the two of you and starts laughing. “Look at us, full suit versus full tracksuit.” You hadn’t realised the stark contrast in your outfits until she pointed it out but laughed with her once she explained. “Your outfit seems a lot more comfortable, and I definitely switch to something similar when I get home once I figure out what to eat tonight.”
You weren’t usually one to talk to strangers in a supermarket but something about the woman in front of you made it feel like you weren’t strangers at all. She was easy to talk to, and you felt yourself not wanting the conversation to end. “Well, I was going to make some spaghetti bolognese, would you like to join me?” You were intrigued by her offer but also didn’t want to impose. She seemed to notice your hesitation in answering, “Please, let me thank you for helping me.” She managed to get you to set your doubts aside. “Okay, let’s do it then. I’m y/n by the way.” The woman holds out her hand for you to shake it. “It’s nice to meet you, y/n. I’m Mary.” 
“Great, I just need to get something for dessert.” She hadn’t let go of your hand, so she used it to guide you towards the dessert section. “Since I chose dinner, you can choose dessert.” You head to the front of the store once you’ve picked out desserts, and after Mary made sure you didn’t need to get anything else at the store. With a bag full of groceries, you walk out of the store together. “I live like two blocks away from here, my friend dropped me off at the store, so I was planning on walking home. Are you okay with walking there?” You nod over to your car a few parking spots over, “Or we can take my car?” Mary smiles, “Perfect.” 
You get into your car and look down at your outfit, “Do you mind if we stop by my house? I would love to get out of this suit.” Mary buckles up, “Or I can lend you some trackies and we have a cosy date.” Her eyes widened, “Wait, sorry, I never clarified it as such.” You shake your head and laugh, “A cosy date sounds lovely.”
After setting down the groceries in Mary’s kitchen, she leads you upstairs to get you a comfy outfit. She opens her closet, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen that many sports clothes together outside of a store. You notice the Manchester United, and the England crest on many of them. “You’re a big football fan then?” You let your eyes go over the many jerseys. 
Mary smiled at your comment, it was a nice feeling that the stranger at the grocery store liked her for her and not because she was a fan. “You can say that.” She says with a laugh. You turn to face her with a furrowed brow. “They’re my jerseys. Mine as in I wear them when I play for United and for England.” She pulls out one of the jerseys showing the back. “Earps, that’s me.” She says proudly. “Wow, I had no idea. That’s really cool. So you get to wear comfy stuff for work every day then, maybe I should consider a career switch.” You both laugh.
Your first date with Mary was a big success, she was easy to talk to, and while your careers differed immensely, you had a lot in common with her. She walked you back to your car, where you shared your first kiss. Mary was standing on her tippy toes, with her arms around your shoulders. The kiss was short and sweet, with a promise to more since you had already planned your second date.
After a few dates, Mary had asked you to be her girlfriend, which you had happily said yes too. 
One month into your relationship you found yourself amongst the crowd at Leigh Sports Village, where you watched Mary play for the first time. She had explained the basic rules of football to you while watching a match on the tv together one night. Now that she wasn’t by your side to explain what was happening, it was harder for you to follow but that was okay. Whenever you didn’t understand what was going on, your eyes went to her in the goal. 
Mary met you in the family and friends lounge when she was done, she introduced you to a couple of her teammates before taking you back to your place. Since your first date was an at home dinner that you prepared together, you wanted to create the tradition to do the same for your anniversaries. So, starting off with your first month anniversary today, you went to the store you had met each other in to pick out the ingredients. 
Ever since you started dating, you would get everything from the top shelves for Mary, but now you turn around from the pans on the stove to find Mary climbing on top of the counter. “Baby, what are you doing?” You laugh. “I’m just getting some wine glasses.” She said innocently. You take the glasses from her, before you help her down from the counter, and spin her around a couple of times. “You know I couldn’t easily grab those, right?” She pecks your lips. “Yeah, just a habit I still need to break.” 
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1maryearps: Creating traditions.
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fan1: Omg mearps is dating someone??
ellatoone: Cuties
fan2: they are so cute!
fan3: who is she with?
alessiarusso: Finally someone else that can cook a proper meal
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gingiesworld · 5 months
Text
Let’s Go Home
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Stripper Wanda Maximoff x Fem Reader
Warnings: Angst. Smut. Fluff.
Summary: Wanda was a teen mom so she had to find a job to provide for the twins since their father disappeared from her life before they were born. So she did the only job she was qualified for. Although during one of her trips to the grocery store, she met a woman, someone who she never realised would become a constant in her life. Although she was afraid to reveal her career to Y/N, she finds out when she is dragged out to a strip club by her friends.
Taglist : @natashamaximoff-69 @canvascoloredin @wizardofstories @louxbloom @wandanats-goodgirl @the-ox-fan20 @ladyqueenxoxo @aemilia19 @wandaromamoff69 @mfd-101 @dorabledewdroop @marvelogic @dopeyouth @karsonromanoff @bimad (if you want to be added to my taglist, please DM me or comment)
Word Count: 2.6k
18+ MINORS DNI
Wanda Maximoff had struggled throughout the last years of her teens and her early twenties. The twins are now 7 years old and she manages to keep a small two bedroom apartment over their heads. She never received much financial help from her parents, other than her mom sneaking her some groceries or new clothes for the three of them.
What she never thought that her life would change the moment she stepped into her local grocery store, bumping into a woman, slightly taller than herself.
“I’m so sorry.” Wanda apologised as her cheeks flushed a deep red in embarrassment.
“It’s ok.” The mysterious woman smiled at her. “My eggs aren’t broken so my sister won’t have my head just yet.” She joked with a smirk.
“I.” Wanda was lost for words as she looked into the mysterious woman’s eyes, only just noticing that she wore dress pants, shirt and a leather jacket.
“I’ll see you around sweets.” She said as she walked past her, Wanda’s eyes followed her as she also picked out the box of mac n cheese and hot sauce before heading towards the check out. Once Y/N had left the building, Wanda let out a breath as she soon carried on with her own shopping before her brother dropped the twins off.
As the days went by, she couldn’t get the mysterious woman out of her mind. Her eyes had imprinted into her memory. It wasn’t until weeks later that she met her again, but at a family gathering to celebrate her brother’s engagement.
“Hey you.” She spoke as she stood beside Wanda at the buffet table. “I never thought I would see you again.”
“Well, I am a hard woman to find.” Wanda played along as Y/N smirked, pressing her lips together as she thought of a remark.
“Well, I never thought I would see you here at my colleague’s engagement.” She smirked as Wanda turned to face her.
“So, you work with my twin?” Wanda asked as Y/N nodded.
“Yes, we are currently working on a project together.” She leaned in before continuing. “It’s top secret.” Wanda’s hairs stood on the back of her neck as a blush started to creep up her face. “I’m Y/N Belova.”
“Wanda Maximoff.” She shook Y/N’s hand as the two soon started to fall into easy conversation. As the night soon came to a close and everyone started to disperse. Y/N congratulated the newly engaged couple before approaching Wanda.
“Is it too forward if I say you were the most stunning woman here tonight.” Y/N spoke as she brushed some of Wanda’s hair behind her ear, her twin and his fiancèe watching the whole interaction with smirks on their faces. “Can I maybe get your number, you know so we can maybe meet up again. Just us?”
“Yeah.” Wanda stuttered as she took Y/N’s phone from her, entering her number and saving it before Y/N kissed her cheek before bidding goodbye.
“So?” Pietro teased as Wanda swatted his arm.
“The guest room is set up for you Wanda.” Monica told her. “The twins are already asleep in their cots.” Wanda thanked the two before joining her two 7 year old boys. Smiling as they slept cuddling their plushies before she turned over herself.
The first date went by smoothly, her parents had the twins while Y/N had opted to take her to a chinese restaurant downtown.
“So, what about you?” Y/N asked Wanda. “You know a lot about me now, let me know who you are.”
“Well, I work in a bar.” Wanda spoke coyly, not really giving her real occupation. “I also have two 7 year old boys.”
“Really?” She asked her, with a shocked expression on her face.
“I understand if you don’t want to take this further.” Wanda started to gather her things before Y/N stopped her movements.
“I never said that.” She spoke sincerely. “I was shocked because we are the same age and you must have been 17 at the time of their birth.” Wanda sat playing with her fingers nervously. “All I am saying is I don’t care if you have children, I just want to be able to take you out, make you feel like the most beautiful woman on the planet, because well, you are.” Wanda chuckled lightly as Y/N smiled. “I want to see this through Wanda, maybe meet the twins when you’re ready of course.” Wanda nodded as the two finished the evening, with Wanda telling her about the twins, about how they’re polar opposites.
Their first kiss was shared on their third date, Y/N had opted to take Wanda on a pedal boat down the river, something which Wanda was weary about.
“I feel awful.” She whispered as Y/N looked at her curiously. “I can’t afford to treat you as you do me.” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears.
“I enjoy treating you Wanda.” She told her honestly. “I want to treat you how I believe a woman should be treated, and I don’t care if you can’t return the favor because you being here with me, is all I ever want from you.”
“How is this not a dream?” She whispered as Y/N smiled at her.
“Well, the moment you answer my question, you will understand that this isn’t a dream.” Y/N smiled tenderly as she held her hand out for Wanda, helping her out of the boat and onto the dock. “Wanda Maximoff, will you be mine?”
“Yes.” She breathed as she stepped forward, kissing Y/N passionately as she wrapped her hands around her neck. They broke the kiss as the smiles on their faces grew, pressing their foreheads together.
“You make me so happy Wanda Maximoff.” Y/N whispered before Wanda pressed her lips to Y/N’s once more.
As Wanda needed more money, she had to take on more shifts at the club, leaving the twins with Agatha, her neighbour, but she also had to cancel on some dates that she and Y/N had arranged, just so she could make ends meet.
As the months went on, the two grew closer and their feelings grew deeper. Y/N knew before Wanda that she was in love with her. She wanted to tell her but every chance she had, she chickened out.
“Come on Y/N.” Maria smirked as she wrapped her arm around her best friend’s arm. “It’s my night!”
“I know.” Y/N smirked as Maria dragged her into the club, Sharon and Daisy behind them. “You are marrying my sister.”
“And you are my maid of honour.” Maria smirked as Y/N nodded. Groaning as she realised the club they had entered. “Come on, I deserve this. I am going to be with Nat for the rest of our lives.” She pleaded as her eyes caught sight of one stripper walking by.
“Fine.” Y/N nodded as Maria dragged her to the bar, buying their drinks before taking a seat in front of the main stage.
“Now please welcome our very own Scarlet!” A voice sounded over the music, everyone’s eyes on the curtains as a woman in a red lace lingerie walked towards the pole in the center of the stage.
They watched as she moved to the music, doing her routine before Maria nudged Y/N’s arm.
“Is that?” She questioned as Y/N’s eyes met Wanda’s.
“Wanda.” She whispered as she moved away from the stage, taking her glass with her and downing it before heading towards the bar, taking a seat in a vacant stool.
“I’m sorry Y/N, I didn’t know she worked here.” Maria apologised as Y/N waved her off.
“Neither did I.” Y/N spoke bitterly as she spotted Wanda approaching her.
“Y/N, can we talk after my shift?” Wanda asked as Y/N clenched her jaw, watching how most of the men had their eyes on her half naked form.
“Sure.” She finished another drink before asking for a refill. “I’ll be here.”
“I think you should stop Y/N.” Maria told her as she took the drink away from her.
“What time do you get off?” Y/N asked her as Wanda looked at the clock behind the bar.
“Two hours.” She answered as Y/N nodded, pursing her lips as she stood up.
“I’ll be outside.” She told her before leaving the bar, Wanda’s eyes watching as she disappeared. Maria went back to the others as Wanda finished her shift before collecting her tips at the end. Heading out to see Y/N sat on the curb, the rain pouring down as Wanda approached her.
“Let’s get you home.” Wanda whispered as Y/N took her hand, the two headed towards Y/N’s apartment before Y/N let go of her hand, only five blocks away from her apartment.
“Why didn’t you tell me you’re a stripper?” Y/N asked her, pain in her eyes. “Do you not trust me enough to tell me?”
“No.” Wanda told her. “Of course I trust you, I trust you with my life and Billy and Tommy’s lives.”
“Then why did you lie to me?” She asked her, the rain pouring down heavier as Wanda sighed.
“I was ashamed.” She answered her. “I thought that if you found out about my job, you would think less of me. You would think I’m a whore.” Y/N shook her head as Wanda chuckled, moving her hair out of her face. “It’s what everyone thinks, my father thinks that of me without the whole stripper job because I got pregnant and had the twins at 17. I never graduated high school, never went to college or even had a job while in high school. It was all I could get to be able to put a roof over our heads, food in our stomachs and clothes on our backs. I try to put money away for the twins' college funds and that isn’t working very well.”
“Wanda.” Y/N whispered as she stepped closer, her hands reaching out as Wanda slapped them away.
“Just say it.” Wanda spoke shakily. “Just say that it’s over and we can’t see each other. Just do it.”
“No.” Y/N shook her head as she took Wanda’s face in her hands. “I never want to say goodbye to you.” A small smile formed on her face. “I love you Wanda. I am so in love with you that not having you in my life hurts me. It physically hurts me.” Wanda listened as she spoke. “I think you are the strongest woman I have ever met in my life. You have raised two wonderful boys on your own. You have provided them with everything they need and more. You did all of that while working a job that not many people would take.” She gazed into Wanda’s eyes. “And that is pretty fucking amazing to me.”
Wanda pressed her lips to Y/N’s in a passionate kiss, her hands holding onto Y/N’s wrists as they pulled away. The two panting as Y/N spoke.
“Let’s go home.” She whispered as Wanda nodded, Y/N taking her hand as they practically ran to her apartment. Once the door was closed, Wanda started to remove her jacket before she pulled Y/N in for a searing kiss. Gripping onto the collar of Y/N’s jacket before she pushed off of her, leading her way towards Y/N’s bedroom. Pulling away completely as she pulled her own top over her head, revealing a different bra to what Y/N had witnessed her in, Y/N stepped closer as Wanda’s hands reached behind her back, unclasping her bra before Y/N’s arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her flush against her.
Caressing her face as she brushed the wet hairs away from her face, soon moving her thumb to softly graze Wanda’s already swollen lips. Watching as Wanda opened her mouth to take Y/N’s thumb, sucking on it as she started to unbutton Y/N’s shirt. Slipping it off before she bit onto Y/N’s thumb.
Y/N watched as Wanda swapped places, pushing Y/N onto the bed, leaning up on her elbows as she watched Wanda finish stripping until she stood bare. Sighing as Wanda straddled her lap, her chest brushing against Y/N’s as she leaned in to kiss her fiercely. Y/N’s hands gripped into Wanda’s flesh, keeping her close to her as she pushed her tongue through Wanda’s lips, making her moan as their tongues danced together.
“Ride my face.” Y/N whispered as they pulled away slightly.
“What?” Wanda asked unsurly.
“I said.” Y/N husked out. “Ride. My. Face.”
Wanda didn’t hesitate in moving so her aching core was lined with Y/N’s face. Y/N’s hands holding onto Wanda’s thighs as she lowered herself down, sighing at the contact as Y/N’s tongue ran through her folds. Gasping as Y/N’s teeth grazed her clit before thrusting her tongue into her hole. Wanda gripped the headboard as she thrust her hips, Y/N’s nose hitting her clit the right way as Y/N pulled her down more.
“I’m so close.” Wanda whispered followed by a guttural moan as Y/N pulled her closer, her tongue going deeper than before, soon sending her over the edge. Her thighs clenching as Y/N lapped up every drop before Wanda moved from her. A sigh leaving her lips as she lay beside Y/N, watching as she moved to get something from her closet before stripping.
“Are you ok my love?” She asked Wanda as she hovered above her, their skin ghosting over Wanda’s.
“Yes.” She breathed out as she looked up into Y/N’s eyes. Her arms wrapped around Y/N’s neck, pulling her down and kissing her hard, their tongues dancing as Wanda gasped, feeling the strap run through her folds as Y/N rolled her hips.
“Tell me if you want me to stop.” She reassured the woman beneath her. Slowly insert the silicone toy, inch by inch until it was all inside. Wanda’s legs wrapped around Y/N’s waist as she started to thrust her hips lightly. Swallowing Wanda’s moans as their kisses became none existent. Their hips moving together as Wanda kept Y/N’s body flush against her own.
“Fuck.” She gasped as Y/N lifted her legs, throwing them over her shoulder, hitting her at a different angle, making her mewl at the new position,clenching around the toy as she could feel herself getting closer. “I’m so close.” She screamed as Y/N moved to capture her lips in a rough kiss, the two moaning as their nipples brushed together. Wanda’s legs soon trembled as she came, screaming Y/N’s name as she slowed her movements, helping Wanda ride out her high.
“I love you.” Y/N whispered as she caressed Wanda’s cheek, a smile on her face as she admired the woman below her.
“I love you more.” Wanda whispered before kissing Y/N softly, both were finally happy with their lives, having confessed their feelings for the other, despite their fears and insecurities.
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bakugoyelling · 1 year
Text
We Can Take Things Slow
Aki Hayakawa x Fem! Reader 
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Warnings: (minors dni) 18+ smut, virgin! reader, fluff, fingering, praise
Word Count: 5.1 K
Summary: What started as a crush has bloomed into a full-on relationship, and for the first time in your life, you're ready to do more than kiss.
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Out of all people, you would have never thought that he would be your boyfriend; the first time he came in, you had to force yourself to stop staring. You had only worked at the local grocery store for about six months, and while you had seen attractive people come in to shop before, you had never seen a man as handsome as him.
He was tall — with blue eyes and black hair, the dark tresses often tied atop his head. His topknot hairstyle actually made your lips quirk up into a smile the first time you saw him. The ponytail was just so small and, for lack of a better word, cute.
He didn’t go to your register that day, and although slightly disappointed, you were glad. Just looking his way made your heart rate speed up. Who knows how you would have embarrassed yourself if you had to talk to him.
The next time you saw him, he walked in with — what you assumed to be — his friends, a guy and a girl who appeared to be rather rambunctious, one rolling in on a shopping cart while the other tossed boxes of snack cakes into it. Or maybe, they’re roommates; you thought as they walked past, watching them head down the aisle as you scanned a carton of milk. You wondered if he liked milk.
He didn’t go to your register that time either — well, he almost did, but he pivoted this shopping cart at the last second and headed a lane over, even though your current customer had just checked out. He must really like waiting in line.
And every time after that, he did the same, always with that boisterous duo; he never went to you. It was such a regular occurrence you no longer felt nervous when he came in.
But at least you still got to admire him. Sure, he might be avoiding you, but he was still pretty. Handsome, just like the first time you ever saw him. Plus, there was no harm in looking at him, right? A girl’s allowed to have a crush.
Then one evening, he came in alone. Dressed in a short-sleeved button-down, he spent most of his time in the produce section, picking out fruits and vegetables before disappearing between the aisles, where you didn’t see him again until he emerged at the check-out line — your check-out line.
Placing his groceries on the conveyor belt, you stood in disbelief, the nerves you thought you had long forgotten returning.
“Hello,” with a nod, the man greeted you, his eyes looking into yours as your cheeks grew warm.
“Hi! Did you find everything okay today?”
Overly peppy, you continued, tapping a button on the cash register before you began scanning his items, trying your best to appear calm.
“I did,” he said.
For a second, your eyes met as you glanced up at him, nodding in approval as you kept scanning.
The silence that followed was awkward. Well, it was for you, at least. Time seemed to slow while you worked, and halfway through, attempting to ease the feeling, you commented on his choice of milk — your face filling with a heavy heat as soon as the phrase left your lips.
“Mmm, oat milk,”
You’re not sure what response you were expecting, but all he did was exhale an amused huff and nod at you, taking out his wallet as he prepared to pay.
Great, he totally thinks you’re weird now, you thought. The next time he comes in, he’ll definitely go back to avoiding you.
Plus, surely he’s already got a girlfriend, right? Now that you’ve seen him up close, it’s proven just how attractive he is. Maybe next time he’ll come in with her. Maybe, you’ll even get to see them kiss.
But that never happened because he didn’t have a girlfriend. He either came in with his two friends or alone. And while he didn’t always go to your line, he frequented it more often. Over time, you even got less nervous when he appeared, and your interactions grew less stiff. You even learned his name — Aki. The two syllables felt like a dream leaving your lips. Along the line, you even found out about his profession. He was a devil hunter. Not uncommon, but dangerous. You’d known people who had joined Public Safety before, and although things didn't usually end well for them, you had to stop yourself from thinking of all the terrible possibilities this could mean. At least, this explained the formal clothing he sometimes wore.
Even your coworkers started noticing that things were different. Every time Aki came in, they’d tease you, asking things like, “So, when’s the wedding?” and “Have you hooked up yet?” Their questions were lighthearted, but you refused to answer — it was fun talking about the man you admired, but they didn’t need to know everything.
That is until, months later, after a series of secret rendezvous, one of them had seen you and Aki outside of work — at a table for two at a local restaurant, where he asked for a taste of your food, and you giggled, leaning in with a pair of chopsticks to fed him. But the light kiss that followed was what really caught their attention.
So the next day, your closest work buddies threw a lunchroom celebration, where despite their playful banter, they made sure to share how happy they were for you. Your oldest friend, who’s twice your age, even mentioned that she “Could tell he was a sweet one” and “Always knew he had a crush on you,”
Her words were the highlight of your day.
Sometimes you still can’t believe you're really with him. The two of you are similar in some ways. But in a lot of ways, you aren’t. Aki smokes, and you don’t — but that’s good, he tells you. Aki enjoys drinking beer, but you’ve never liked the taste. So you sip on water most of the time. But that’s great too, he says. In fact, he should be more like you, he insists. Aki has been in a relationship before. He’s had sex — shared his naked body with someone other than himself — And you haven’t. Not even close. All you’ve done is kiss. But you haven’t told him that.
And while you shouldn't feel shame for such a thing, you do. Like when you go to his apartment and spend the night eating cereal together, honey-flavored grains swimming in oat milk.
“Hey, let’s do the crossword puzzle on the back,” you say, dipping your spoon in for another bite.
If this were a different cereal box, the game on the back would probably already be done. However, lucky for you, Power and Denji — Aki’s roommates that you met sometime back at the grocery store — keep their hands off his boxes of “grandpa food,”
Grabbing a pen, Aki hands it to you, looking on as you begin to fill out the small square boxes, lifting a finger every so often so he can point out an answer. And when the puzzle is complete — and your bowls are empty, he washes them as you get ready for bed, changing into your pajamas to wait for him in the bedroom.
Being alone with him in here makes your heart race sometimes. Although the only thing the two of you have done in here is kiss, you can’t help but think of what will happen when you tell him that's all you've ever done.
It’s only happened once before, but one time things got heated. Clearly more experienced than you, Aki's kisses grew fervent, his lips moving against yours with ease. Like the love interest in a romance movie, he moved with such seduction, his tongue brushing against your bottom lip as his hands grazed the skin beneath your shirt. Your body grew hot, and for a second, you thought of letting him undress you, but instead, you gently pulled away — kissing one last time before you left to get a cup of water.
The memory makes you feel bad in a way. You should have just told him then, explained to Aki how you didn’t push him away because of what he did, but instead because you’re a nervous virgin. Or maybe you should tell him tonight — get it over with and…
“Did you already brush your teeth?”
But his question breaks you from the idea, and as you shake your head in response, you decide, maybe next time. Besides, brushing your teeth is more important anyway.
Four weeks later, you find yourself facing the decision again.
Your relationship with Aki has even reached a new milestone — you’ve said you love him. And with the faintest blush, Aki has said he loves you too.
In fact, he said it just moments ago before you kissed him — before you straddled him on his bed and began tasting his tongue. Slowly getting comfortable, you’ve started taking the lead with things like this now. It’s fun and exciting, yet, the idea of going further still makes you nervous.
It’s not like you don’t want to go further. You do, but you’re scared. Afraid that once you tell Aki, things won’t be the same, the flame will fizzle out, and he’ll leave you. Or even worse, he’ll use you for sex, and that’ll be the end of it — a cherry-popping dream come true.
“Hey, you okay?”
Caught on to how you’ve stopped and pulled away, he questions you, studying your expression as you refuse to make eye contact.
“Aki…” you mutter his name in quiet guilt, shifting about as you decide to rip off the proverbial band-aid, your heart pounding in your chest as you timidly confess, “I’m a virgin,”
“Huh?” caught off guard, his brows pull together as you remove yourself from his lap, your eyes growing glossy as panic sets in. If he laughs right now, then it’s over.
“I’ve never done anything, okay?” you hush, wiping away at your cheek.
You'll tell everyone at work that he's a jerk.
But Aki doesn't laugh. He doesn't chuckle; he doesn't even smirk. Instead, Aki thinks. He acknowledges your reactions — figures this information must have been weighing down on you for a while, and from what he can tell, you must be worried right now. And while to him, it’s no big deal, to you, it is. So in respect of your feelings, he does what he can to comfort you.
“That’s okay,” he gently speaks. “That doesn't change how I see you,” Hoping he’s not making things worse, he continues.
“Did you think it would?”
Peering up through dampened lashes, you nod. It’s embarrassing to admit, but it’s true. Before you got into a relationship with Aki, your lack of sex was never an issue — other than the fact that you’ve never been with another person, you did plenty of sexual exploring on your own. You’ve done things that not even your friends in two-year relationships had done, knew kinks by name, and even told them what kind of toys to bring into the bedroom. You know your body, and you know what you like. You’ve just never had anyone to share it with. Being vulnerable in such a way can be scary. And while no, you don’t have to say anything about it, you feel it’s best that you do.
“That’s why I wanted to tell you…before things went any further. I just need you to know. So, we can take things slow, okay?”
Shifting closer, Aki nods before wrapping his arms around you in a comforting hug, holding the back of your head as you press yourself against him, the scent of soap heavy on his skin.
“Don’t worry, it’s fine,” he whispers. “I don’t mind taking things slow,”
In his arms, you continue to listen, his acceptance putting you at ease.
“We don’t have to do anything until you’re ready. Until you want to, alright?
In response, you nod, silently agreeing before you pull back, peering up at Aki as you wipe your eyes. 
“What if I only ever want to hold hands?” you mumble.
“Then we’ll only hold hands...and I’ll still love you,” smiling down, he assures you.
Aki only wants to make you happy, and although he can’t guarantee he'll never make you sad or worried, he can promise to never make you uncomfortable. 
“So, got any plans for the weekend?” your coworker asks from beside you, adjusting a can of corn as you reorganize the shelves before closing time.
“Actually, I do,” you say, the lilt in your voice soft as you continue working. “Aki and I are going to a new gyoza restaurant tonight. It just opened up,”
“Ooh, a date, I see? And will you be feeding him again this time?”
You give your friend the side eye, and they chuckle, the memory of when they first saw you together causing you to laugh along.
“And what if I do? Are you gonna be there watching like last time,”
“Hey, I just happened to be there,” your friend holds their hands up in defense. “It’s not my fault I caught you kissing mister topknot,” they tease. “Besides, I’ve got my own boyfriend to feed tonight,”
“Oh yeah, how is your cat, by the way?” Humored by your joke, you smile, peering over at your friend as they shake their head with a chortle. The end of your shift flies by when the two of you are together, and before you know it, the grocery store is closed for the night.
Once back home, you call Aki to let him know. Telling him that after you shower and get ready, you’ll call him back so he can pick you up. 
“Alright, see you soon then. Love you,” 
“Love you too, bye,” his voice carries over before hanging up, the end of the call leaving you eager to be with him again. 
An hour later, he’s knocking on your door, standing outside your apartment with joy in his eyes when you open up to greet him — two overnight bags in hand. 
“You ready to go?” he asks, silently admiring your features.
“Yup,” you smile as he takes your bags for you. “I’m so ready to eat too. I’ve been dreaming of this gyoza all day!” 
Heading to the car, he chuckles at your enthusiasm. It sounds like tonight he won’t be getting any of your leftovers. Guess he’ll just have to order extra.
Four plates of fried dumplings later, the two of you have had your fill, and with the bill paid, you head back to Aki’s apartment.
“Denji and Power are out, by the way.” he mentions while unlocking the door, “But they’ll be back tomorrow afternoon, so enjoy it while you can,”
“Hey, don’t be mean,” you giggle, “I like them,”
“Yeah, yeah…”
With the place so quiet, you and Aki fall into what feels like a sense of domestic bliss — the tv on in the background providing a bit of sound as you go about helping him rid his fridge of spoiled food. It’s something he does every weekend lest he discovers a container of leftovers growing mold.
After that, he puts a load of laundry into the wash while you make a cup of tea — the last time you came over, he had a flavor you had never tried. You thought it was good, so Aki made sure to get more.
The two of you even brush your teeth together, which is nice because the minty fresh flavor of it remains once you’ve settled in bed — your upper half pressing against his as you kiss. Over and over, until the short pecks turn into your tongue running across his bottom lip, teasing him before he opens up and accepts, his hands sliding down to rest on your waistband as you pull back to catch your breath.
“Aki,” his eyes watch your kiss-swollen lips whisper his name. The warmth of your fingers resting against his jaw as he lifts his gaze.
“Yeah?”
Suddenly aware that you’re on top of him, he removes his hands from your hips — the subtle movement is a sign that he’s being cautious, your comfort always at the forefront of his mind. 
“You know, I still want to take things slow,” your heart rate speeds up as he keeps his eyes on you. “And I don’t think I’m ready to go all the way yet, but,” 
Now Aki’s heart is racing. He’s almost positive that he knows what you’re going to say, and he’d be lying if he said the thought of pleasing you in any way doesn't get his body aching with desire. 
“Can we try something?”
Your face blooms at the question, a sense of embarrassment washing over you as your boyfriend remains silent for a second, lips parting before he places his hands back on you and nods.
 “Anything you want,” he murmurs.
And while it’s difficult to ask your first real boyfriend to finger you, you do it. You probably sound like a total dork, you think, but Aki thinks you sound cute — delicate, endearing, but not the least bit innocent as you softly ask, “Will you fuck me with your fingers, please?”
The phrase sounds so vulgarly sweet; Aki has never wanted to satisfy someone's desires as much as he does yours. With your words repeating in his mind, he nods, keeping an eye on you as you move off him, settling beside him instead.
Shifting onto his side, Aki leans in to kiss you, interlocking your fingers with his as he pulls back to ask, “Are you sure about this?”
He knows you’re the one who brought it up, but he still feels the need to ask.
Your lips curve into a gentle smile as you shake your head in response, “I’m positive,” you assure him. 
Aki nods once more, bringing your entwined hands up to his lips to kiss your knuckles, one by one, until he lets go and places his hand on your hip, stroking your soft skin as you peer up at him.
Caught on by his hesitance, you pull him in for a heated kiss, reassuring him even further of your request with the tracing of your tongue against his lips — the wet muscle flicking against his as you glide your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, breathing out a moan while his hand travels further down, dipping into the waistband of your shorts.
“Can I?” he mumbles, thumb tracing against the fabric.
Agreeing, you shift your hips beneath him, allowing his hand to go all the way in, your lips parting in a shaky breath as his digits slide across the front of your panties, stopping just above your clit.
You’re glad you wore such a thin pair tonight, the friction of the lacy material already feels so good, and with each light circle Aki presses against you, you can feel the fabric dampen, knowing that soon, his touch will feel even better. 
As he teases you, Aki is sure to gauge your reactions. He pays attention to your movements, focusing on bringing you nothing but pleasure. And when your hips grow more fervent, when your legs spread open further, he experiments with a few words.
“Oh, you’re all nice and wet for me. Aren't you?” 
His voice is so low it’s impossible to hold back the moan in your throat. No one has ever said such a thing to you. But Aki can tell you like it. The way your clit twitches is enough to indicate that. 
“Will you let me see?” he asks.
You’ve never felt so needy before, eagerly nodding before he kisses your nose and leans away, settling on his knees so he can undress you. You haven't been this nervous in a while — but it's a giddy nervous, and each of Aki’s tender movements helps ease you. He’s slow, gentle, and careful of where he touches you as he kisses the swell of your knee, peering up at you while he glides his hands up your thighs. Everything he does is with your desire in mind.    
The veins in his hands flex while he grabs your hips, testing the waters once more as his fingers hook onto the sides of your panties — waiting for your permission.
Aki’s hands have always been nice to you, and as you shake your head in approval, you get lost in the vision of them, admiring how they look in this intimate moment as he undresses you, his long fingers pulling down your shorts and underwear until your core is exposed. 
Flustered, your knees pull together as you catch him staring, his blue eyes focused on your sex as he swallows, his lips parting while he softly speaks, “You’re absolutely perfect,”
Your breath hitches, and he kisses your thigh before adjusting himself, moving up the mattress until he’s lying beside you. This position will be more comfortable, he decides. He can please you without his gaze being too overbearing, and the closeness of your lips will make it easier to kiss as he touches you. He’s committed to making this experience a good one for you.
“Are you feeling alright?” he asks, gliding a hand across your stomach.
Nodding, you lift the hem of your shirt, muttering out a quiet “yeah” as you pull it up to reveal your tits, your nipples pebbling from both the cool air and Aki’s stare. He silently curses at how good you are at teasing, leaning in to kiss you as his calloused hand moves up to knead the soft mounds of flesh. The stimulation has you moaning, bucking your hips into the air as his thumb and forefinger pinch the sensitive skin — the slickness between your thighs increasing by the second.
“Mm, Aki,” you mutter his name between kisses, your eyes heavy-lidded as you place your hand on his, guiding it down until it rests on your pelvis. 
“I know, I know,” he hushes, “I want to touch you too, just gotta make sure it feels good for you,” he kisses your cheek and then finally; lets his fingers begin to explore.
They brush past the strip of pubic hair you shaved this afternoon, slowly making their way towards your pussy lips, where his fingers dip in to gather your slick as you spread your legs for him. Having Aki touch you like this feels like heaven, and you can feel the strings of your essence separating as you open up for him. His digits circles around your entrance a few times before trailing back up, stopping mid-stroke while he gently speaks, “Oh, you’ve got the cutest little clit I've ever seen,”
The sensitive nub throbs as he makes contact with it, a whine spilling from your throat while he languidly rubs it, his fingers returning to your slit before it becomes too much — if he had kept it up, you would have come in an instant, which isn't bad, but you enjoy the build-up.
Wetting his digits some more, Aki teases your entrance, kissing just below your ear as he quietly instructs you, “Just relax for me, okay?” 
Nodding your head, you take a deep breath, staring down as he continues playing with your pussy, rubbing your slick folds up and down before slowly sliding his middle finger into you. The sensation has both of you gasping. Aki because you’re so tight and warm, and you because his fingers are so much bigger than yours. They’re thicker and longer, and as the discomfort melts he begins to move.
He sinks his digit all the way in before almost pulling out, repeating the movement a few times over as your half-lidded eyes grow wide, a breathy moan falling from your lips as you adjust to the feeling. 
“You okay?” your boyfriend mumbles.
“Mmhm, your fingers are just…bigger than mine,”
Endeared with the comparison, he huffs out a laugh, kissing your lips while he sinks into you once again, swallowing your mewls of pleasure as he curls his finger this time, pressing against the swelled tissue of your g-spot. It’s like discovering the area for the first time all over again, and your brows pull together as your hips buck against his hand, your legs spreading further as you grab at your tits.     
 “That feel good?” Aki’s voice remains low, the sticky clicks of your cunt mixing in with the sound while you earnestly nod.
“Yeah…” you whimper, slack-jawed as you whimper on.“Yeah…I want more,” you plead, your lust-filled gaze meeting his while you desperately shift your hips.
You may not know it. You may not even be trying, but through each passing second, through each soft phrase, Aki grows more and more captivated in pleasing you — and knowing that he’ll soon be the reason behind your erotic gratification; has him happy to oblige. 
He pumps his middle finger into you a few more times before he pulls it out, tracing along your clenching little pussy while he eases it back into you, his ring finger joining in this time as you breathlessly curse. His digits are so much thicker than yours, longer too. You think this feels good when you do it yourself, but having Aki finger you feels even better. Unrestricted as to how far your wrist can twist, this new angle allows you to feel things deeper, granting you a new level of satisfaction you could never give yourself.
When he feels your walls relax again, Aki begins building the movement of his fingers, pumping the two digits at a steadying pace as he kisses you, trailing his lips down your neck and across your chest. Grazing your nipple, his tongue laps at the bud as he curves his fingers, brushing against your sweet spot. In search of repetition, your hips jolt into his touch, your cunt clamping down as Aki adjusts himself, “Gonna go a little faster now, alright?” he says, sliding his body further down for better reach. Slick with arousal, you’re taken aback by how easily he’s able to speed up his digits, your head thrown back in a heady groan as your pleasure elevates to another height, the sticky sounds of your cunt growing as Aki works his wrist, his palm brushing against your clit every so often.
Cute and high-pitched, your whines are intoxicating to him, swallowing them up between kisses while his fingers stroke your walls.
Your heavy lids make it difficult to keep your eyes open, but even in your lust-filled daze, you make it a priority to drop your chin and take a peek, to watch as your boyfriend fucks you with his fingers. So wet from your pussy, his hand glistens before you, your face flooding with warmth as you whimper his name, “Ah-Aki, Aki,”
You’re close; you can feel it — building up with every thrust of his fingers — with every graze of his heavy palm against your clit. Your skin is heating up, and your hips are jerking, grinding against him in search of more. Just a bit more of that pressure, and you’ll be falling past the edge.
Observant, Aki catches the way your swollen bud twitches and quickens his pace, rapidly pumping his fingers as you clench around him, the sloppy sound mixing in with your cries of ecstasy as he pushes all the way in, his palm grazing your clit as his fingers curl into the spot that has you keening. Repeating the motion, he watches your brows pull together as you shift your stare, meeting his gaze before he presses his forehead against yours. The fading mint of his breath fanning across your lips while he whispers, “You gonna cum for me?”
Your breath hitches as he pushes the heel of his hand towards you, the calloused skin rubbing against your sensitive nub while you press your knees together, trapping his hand in place while your brows crease, urgently nodding your head in admission. 
“Yeah?” Aki gives his own little nod while continuing to work his fingers, hitting the spongy spot in the back of your cunt as you struggle to speak.
 “Y-yes, yes fuck, please, ohh –” your words cut off into a drawn-out sob, your stomach clenching as you squeeze your thighs together, your body twitching while you dissolve into pleasure with Aki for the very first time — the reality of it all making your walls tighten around his digits even harder, soaking them in your essence as he works you through orgasm.
The sensation has Aki’s mouth falling open, feeling your pussy squeeze his fingers as you curve into his touch, keening through the incredible high while you melt into him. Your shattered breaths catch on the tip of his tongue as he kisses you, tangling his wet muscle with yours — swallowing the moans that escape you.
“Feels good, doesn't it?” Aki whispers against your lips as your clit throbs, his palm pushing down on the swollen nub, causing you to twitch in place while your climax begins to fade. As you relax, his fingers slow their pace, your body slumping into his as your heavy breaths grow steady, your half-lidded eyes catching sight of his digits pulling out of you.
You sigh as they leave you, your cunt squeezing around nothing as you hear your boyfriend mutter out a quiet “Fuck…” — Enamored with how you leak for him, how you’ve coated his thick digits in the creamy white of your pussy. How you’ve allowed him to share such an experience with you.
“You’re perfect, you know that?” he says as you lie back. The endearment has you lazily smiling, his lips pressing against the damp skin of your forehead.
“So perfect,” he repeats between kisses, tilting your chin to peck your lips.
A dreamy haze surrounds him as he stares down at you — your lower half still exposed as you peer into those beautiful cerulean eyes of his, thoughtlessly murmuring out loud, “So, do I have to give you a handjob now?”
The enchanting clouds dissipate as you realize what you've said, the apples of your cheeks growing warm as Aki's face goes blank — a tinge of regret traveling down your spine for even asking the question.
“Well, do you want to?” He calmly replies as you continue to look up at him, searching his gaze while you swallow the words caught in your throat. As much as you desire Aki — as much as you want to have him fall apart because of you; you’re not ready. At least, not tonight.
Prepared to see disappointment spread across his features, you silently shake your head, declining with a nodded no. But to your relief, Aki responds with an affirming smile.
“Then no, you don’t have to,” he says, “We can save that for some other time,”
“Are you sure?”
Kissing the top of your head, he nods, pulling back to assure you once again, “I’m positive,” he replies.
Not until you're ready.
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— please do not modify or repost my work
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・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
A/N: Aki is so boyfriend :') he's got such nice hands too Heheh, thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, let me know! Kind comments are always appreciated ♡♡♡
・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
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covetyou · 5 months
Text
baubles
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ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist
pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: ball fucking, ball sucking, balls, wall to wall all ball, BIV (ball in vagina), sex toys (the balldo [link to website] is real and it has haunted my dreams for 6 months - pic in this ask), there's some PIV too I guess. word count: too many and they're all balls 4.4k summary: Santa Joel fucks you with his balls. That's it.
A/N: I am NOT sorry. Not now, not ever. And, yes, I watched the instructional video on how to put it on, purely for Research Purposes. We don't talk about how long I've spent thinking about balls.
Happy Ball-idays, don't say I never got you anythin' nice.
...
Santa Joel-y, slip your ballsack right into me, oh gee.
I've been a fuckin' good girl,
Santa Joel-y, so stuff 'em up my chimney tonight.
...
It was your first Christmas in Texas and your first Christmas in a place that felt unseasonably warm for the time of year. That's what you tell yourself every night as you strip off completely before slinking into bed, at least.
Except, this night is different.
It's Christmas Eve.
And someone is in your house. You're sure of it.
A click of a button and you're on your feet, creeping to your bedroom door to listen out for the intruder. You almost didn't hear it, too preoccupied to be on the lookout for burglars on Christmas Eve.
There's a tell tale rustle, the stomp of feet. Whoever it is, they're not even trying to be quiet. You'd respect the brazenness of it all if someone hadn't broken into your damn house. You toy with calling the cops, maybe a neighbor, but you know it'll be too late by the time anyone gets here to do anything, so you make the stupid decision to head downstairs and confront the intruder alone.
Wrapping your flimsy bath robe around yourself, you grab the nearest makeshift weapon you can find (a broken umbrella you still hadn't thrown away) and click the door open, slinking out into the hallway and down the stairs.
If he hears you before you get down the stairs, he doesn't let on. But there, right in front of your Christmas tree is the unmistakable figure of a man. A big man. He's tall, and broad, and his silhouette is wrapped in something fluffy, making it look like there's a giant teddy bear standing in your living room.
You flick the light on, startling him, making him drop a heavy bag undoubtedly filled with your things onto the floor with a heavy thud.
"Oh, shit."
A single ornament rolls out of the bag and across the floor. You both stand frozen and silent, watching it move until it knocks against your bare toes. Only when it's stopped do you drag your eyes back up to look at the man who broke into your house.
Your umbrella clatters to the floor.
"What the...?"
The man before you is dressed as Santa, hat and all.
Only this man was not as old as you would expect for someone claiming to be Santa Claus. His beard is patchy, the scruff around his chin only speckled with gray. He has lines around his eyes, crinkled divots in his skin from so many years of laughter. The red coat pulled around his form is unbelted, falling open at the middle to reveal a white vest and the soft swell of his belly.
"What the fuck are you doin' in my house?" you yell.
"Shh, quit your fuckin' hollerin'."
He takes a step toward you and you back into the wall, trying to keep your distance from the very Texan man who had broken into your house dressed as Santa on Christmas Eve.
And that's when you see behind him, to the glittering lights of your Christmas tree, and the branches covered in ornaments. Ornaments that did not belong to you. You'd bought the thing on sale at the grocery store just a week ago. When you put it up and plugged it in, grateful for the existence of pre-lit trees, you settled on the fact you wouldn't decorate it this year. Even so, it was beautiful as it was, and you enjoyed the soft glow of the lights in the evenings as you wound down after work. Now, that soft glow was accompanied by the twinkling reflections of the many ornaments hanging on it.
"Did you... did you decorate my tree?"
He looks at you like you're mad, and maybe you are. Maybe you came so hard on your vibrator upstairs that you passed out, and this is all a dream. A very vivid dream where you can smell the warm oaky scent of the man in front of you and feel the heat of him as he crowds you against the wall.
"What else do you think I've been doin'?" he says, as if it should be entirely obvious that he's been here decorating your tree all along.
"I don't know, maybe stealing my shit?"
He, once again, looks at you like you're stupid and gestures to his suit, red and velvety, draped around his body. It looks good on him, and does nothing to help the thick syrupy feeling still coursing through your veins. Having a man like him break into your house felt like one of lifes great injustices, but having him break in when you were mid-jerk off was purely inhumane. Other than point to the door and tell him to get out, there was nothing you could do but gape at him and hope he didn't notice you curl your toes as he looked at you.
He takes a step closer, heavy boot falling with a thud in front of you, and shrugs. "If you don't want it, I'll take it back."
Up this close, the smell of him goes straight to your head, your body seemingly ready and rearing to go at the slightest hint of something masculine in your presence. Your tongue suddenly feels too big and clumsy so, not trusting a single word that would come out of your mouth, you shake your head. You would actually, really, very much like the decorations to stay and the man who put them there.
Texas always felt hot to you, but something about this room was now super heating. You're keenly aware of the stickiness pooling between your thighs, and even more aware of the visible sheen of sweat on your head and the warmth in your cheeks. If he looked closely, he'd even be able to see glistening on your fingers, making you look glitter coated in the twinkle of the Christmas lights. You shift, trying to mask the buzzing in your veins at his eyes as they drag down your body.
You hadn't noticed the silky tie of your robe slowly loosen as you wiggled and fidgeted. You were too warm to notice when the fabric parted, gaping over your chest and giving him a perfect view of your tits. You were too busy staring into his deep brown eyes to notice him raise his hand.
You did, however, feel the moment his finger stroked a slow trail down the swell of your breast, puckering your nipple and making a shudder run through your spine.
"You're all unwrapped, darlin'," he whispers, just as you remember to breathe again. "S'gettin' a bit warm in here, huh?"
He absentmindedly discards his hat as his finger traces down your body, flicking the light back off behind you once his hat hits the floor. You know where he, and this, is heading, and you're not keen to stop it any time soon.
When his fingers stroke across your mound, you gasp. Your vibrator had made you sensitive, but you'd never had chance to finish the job, and now here he was threatening you with a good time. He cups you, completely engulfing your pussy in his broad hand, and slides it between your legs.
By now it's no secret you're already wet, your upper thighs already sticky with it. His fingers slide through with ease, the quirk of his eyebrow visible now his hat has been thrown to the side.
"Here I was thinkin' you were on the nice list. But this little thing right here tells me you're naughty as they come, darlin'. What you been doin' to yourself all alone up there in the dark?"
You're staring at him opened mouthed as he works is thick fingers over you, dragging slick over your already sensitive clit. You'd been moments away from coming when the noise from downstairs pulled you out of it, and now here he was working you back up and quickly.
"It's my house," you stutter. "Can do what I want." And right now you want to collapse into a heap on the floor with his fingers between your legs.
"That you can. You wanna go back up there and finish yourself off?"
Logically, you know your pre-orgasm desperation is clouding your judgement, that you should take him up on his offer to leave and put a stop to this, but there's something too enticing about him. You don't want to stop.
"Or do you maybe want a hand with your... Little problem?"
"Yeah," you're nodding, eyes so heavy now you want them to snap shut, but you can't resist looking at him in the glow of your Christmas lights. Red really suits him, and you swear you can see his cheeks get rosy in the dim lighting.
"S'good. Got some little problems here myself. But, seein' as you're already halfway there, seems only fair to get me to your level before we start anythin', don't you think?"
Biting your lip, you nod, taking a step closer to him. Tentatively, you reach out a hand and caress the front of his pants. They feel velvety soft, and you have no fucking clue how he doesn't look as sweaty as you feel.
"That's right. You feel that?"
You feel something grow beneath your palm. Big, thick, and heavy. You look down in stunned silence, seeing only the odd shadows cast by the Christmas tree lights sparkling over the front of his pants.
"Get on your knees and close your eyes."
You obey, wanting very much to stay on the nice list now that you know exactly what you want for Christmas. His belt jingles as he undoes the buckle, pulling it from his waist and discarding it on top of his bag. He can't resist giving his dick a quick squeeze over the fabric of his pants at the sight of your bare chest heaving in the twinkling light, before unzipping them and letting them fall down to his ankles. The fabric is so loose he can step out of them, easily tugging his booted feet from the legs.
It doesn't go unnoticed that you spend the entire time eyes closed, listening attentively, and gently rocking your hips, discreetly humping the air in a desperate attempt to find any kind of relief.
"Tsk, got an impatient one on our hands."
The same hand he'd been stroking your pussy with wraps around his cock, slowly dragging his sticky fingers up and down his rapidly hardening length. He wishes he'd told you to strip, or left the light on so he could see you more clearly, but something about your skin under the sparkling lights and the shadows cast between your legs is making him harder more quickly than ever. When his dick twitches in his hand at your deep sigh, he finally stops staring and speaks.
"Open your eyes."
You snap them open, eager to see what he has for you, and your eyes immediately turn the size of dinner plates.
His cock gorgeous, and even in the grip of his large hand it looks big. He's long, thick with a slight upward curve and a smattering of salt and pepper hair at the base. You're fairly certain he trims it, keeping it well groomed and flush to his skin, making his cock appear even larger as it juts out infront of him.
But, despite the gloriousness of this mans cock, what you can't get over are his balls. They're heavy, and full, and getting tighter and tighter as his cock hardens under your gaze. You flick your eyes up to his face and he has a knowing smirk pulling at his lips.
"Fuck," you say as you look back down at it, at them, and let out a shaky breath.
His whole body shakes with a laugh, jingling his bells, as you take in his length. Hand never leaving his cock, his gentle strokes become firmer, and he's guiding the tip toward your face a moment later.
"What should I call you?" you ask, realizing you don't even know his name yet, just as his tip touches to your lips. Exhilarating as it was to fuck a man who had broke into your house, you still wanted to know his name, and not even to press charges - you wanted to know what to scream when you came.
"Santa works just fine."
Pulling back, you scoff, "You want me to call you Santa Claus?"
"Fuck no! Do I look like a Claus to you? S'Joel."
"Santa Joel?"
"Fuck yeah darlin', now open up."
You stick out your tongue, waiting for his cock to slide along the spit slicked muscle. He drags his tip across it, letting you lick at his head before you capture his cock in your mouth, sucking it in and flicking your tongue lightly on his frenulum. The salty sweet taste of him makes you crave more, so you draw him further into your mouth, sliding up and down his cock as he stares down at you with an open mouth.
Dragging your hands up his bare thighs, you grab the base of his cock with one, steadying him as you suck. You tickle the other across his balls, looking up at him as he pulls in a sharp breath, before grabbing them and massaging them. His balls feel entirely smooth to the touch, and you have an irresistible urge to put them in your mouth.
Dragging your lips back from his cock, you lick broadly up the length of it again and again until you're dragging your tongue across his ballsack, slowly trailing up his cock to his tip, watching him all the while. Then you kiss his balls, humming in satisfaction as you finally press your lips to the soft skin.
The sight of you on your knees, making out with his balls is sending him stupid, and all he can do is stare down at you with a look of deep concentration on his face. If he's not careful, he's going to blow his load early, coming in your hand before he even gets to fuck you.
He watches you lightly drag your teeth over his delicate ball skin. He swears he sees your eyes flicker with something deserving of the naughty list when you hear his intake of breath, but he's too preoccupied by your tongue lathing across them to take much notice. You take it in turns with them, sucking each ball into your mouth as you slowly pump his cock in your fist, before releasing and working on the other. By the time you've had enough, his cock is dripping, smearing pre-cum over your hand as you jerk him.
Licking the drippy mess off of your hand, you look up at him, savouring the taste of his cum in your mouth.
"Please tell me you want to fuck me," you say, biting down on your swollen lips. You don't know what you'll do if he says no now, you know going back upstairs to your vibrator just won't cut it, even if you now have the fantasy of kissing Santa's balls to get off to.
"You kiddin' me, darlin'? Get up here."
Relief and desperation wash through you, and you climb off your aching knees, letting your robe fall from your arms.
"Couch?" you say, keeping a firm grip on his cock as you stroke up his chest. He pulls you toward him, holding the back of your neck as he kisses you, tasting his cum and balls on your tongue. His lips are impossibly soft, just like his balls, a stark contrast to the scratch of his beard.
Moving to the couch, you bend over, wiggling your bare ass for him. He chuckles, stepping closer to you and marvelling at the lights dancing over your jiggling backside. He shucks off his own coat now, leaving him in just his vest and boots, and hones in on the peek of your pussy from between your legs.
Sliding his length up and down your slit he groans, gripping your hip in his massive hand just as he notches at your entrance.
"Well, shit, that's nice," he says, sliding his tip into you.
You're inclined to agree - it had been a long time since anyone other than yourself had fucked you, and the red hot feeling of his hard cock in you felt better than you remembered. He rocks his hips a little, drenching his cock in you bit by bit until he's fully sheathed inside your eager pussy. The solid beat of your heart throbs through your veins and straight to your core, making you clench around him as he begins to fuck you.
"You're gonna yank my dick clean off if you keep that up."
"Can't help it," you moan, "Feels so good." You let your eyes close, succumbing to the slow, steady, pleasure building in you.
Snapping his hips more firmly, he bottoms out in you over and over, pushing deep inside you with each thrust. You can feel his wet balls slap against you, rhythmically whacking into your clit, but it's not enough. You're so desperate to come you lick your fingers and reach between your legs, swiping your digits over your clit. His balls instead slap against your fingers and you can't resist trying to stroke them again.
The noises you're making are going straight to Joel's dick, and he knows he's going to blow his snowy load way before he's ready if you don't stop, so he pulls away from you. You protest as his cock slides out of you, leaving you empty and still desperate to come.
"Got a present for you, darlin'," he pants from behind you.
"The ornaments?"
"Yeah. Got some real pretty baubles for you, darlin'. You'll like 'em. I promise."
He goes to his bag, long forgotten on the floor, and bends over it. You watch his soft ass and the swing of his dick and balls as he rummages around inside the sack, pulling out two things before standing up. When he doesn't immediately turn back around, clearly playing with his own cock, you start to worry that you're not satisfying him. But then he rounds on you and you see his cock and balls glisten wetly in the twinkling Christmas lights just as he throws a bottle at you. Lube.
Catching him opening another box, you gasp and draw your hand to your chest in mock shock.
"Is that not my present to open?" you say coyly, now trickling lube over your own pussy. You don't need it, but whatever he has in mind clearly calls for it.
"Good things come to those who wait, darlin'."
"I'm still waiting for the coming part."
He shoots you a admonishing look and you raise your hands in surrender, before snaking one back down to keep rubbing at your clit. You're about to go mad if you don't come soon, your clit is so sensitive, a firm nub between your legs now, and your pussy so puffy from so much stimulation. It's a wonder you have any blood left in your brain at all.
The object in the box is revealed, and you can do nothing but gape at it as Santa Joel proudly holds it up with a hand on his hip.
It looks like a torpedo cockring hybrid, and you have no fucking clue what it is.
"Get yourself comfy, gotta strap myself in."
Laying back on your couch - for all its flaws, an armless couch certainly had its benefits - you spread your legs and watch him with curiousity. You still can't work out what it is.
"What is -"
And then he stretches the silicone underneath his balls, pushing each ball into the cage with his thumbs before letting go. Oh.
Oh. "Oh."
You sit in stunned silence. He's turned his balls into a dick or, more accurately, a dildo. With the length of it and the girth of his balls, you can only imagine what it's going to feel like.
"If you don't fuck me with that in the next two seconds I'm gonna scream."
With the contraption strapped around his balls, pulling them down and taught, crouches over you, pushing your legs back so your pussy is pointing skyward like a sloppy wet landing pad for his balls.
He dunks the tip of the dildo into your pussy. It's cold and unfamiliar, not like the velvety warmth of his dick that stands straight ahead of you, taunting you with its glistening tip. If you could fold yourself in a pretzel you would, just to suck the head of his cock back into your mouth.
He pushes down, squatting over you with bare legs, sheathing the entire dildo into you. Another push and you feel the swell of his balls as they pop past your entrance and nestle themselves inside of you.
You gasp. The feeling is wholly unfamiliar, but still you feel yourself soaking him, slicking up his balls as they sit in your pussy.
"That hurtin'?"
"No. No, it's just I- I've never had someone's balls in me before."
"A first ball fuckin' for this little pussy," he says affectionately, stroking a thumb over your lips as they wrap themselves around his balls. His cock is protruding out of you now, like you're wearing a life like strap, and you really wish you could reach to taste where his tip threatens to drip onto you. Suddenly you understand the boys back in highschool and their failed attempts to suck their own dicks.
"They feel so big inside," you moan as he begins to gently shift above you. He pops out of you once, and pushes back in, and you throw your head back onto the soft sofa woth a moan. You have never felt anything like this. "Joel, please don't stop. Please keep fucking me with your balls."
"You got it darlin'," his voice is soft, in awe of you as you take his balls and the toy deep inside you. You feel incredible, and the wet slip of your walls on his ball skin shoots straight down his dick, and for a moment he thinks he's accidentally came too early. A quick look from your face, contorting with the fullness in your pussy, down to where his dick sticks outward, tells him otherwise. Thank fuck. He knows he has to get you off quickly. You were soaking his dick not too long ago, and before that his fingers, and before that your own sheets upstairs. You were ready, and he was nothing if not a giving man.
His thumb finds your clit, slippery from lube and your own slick, and he circles it, applying a firm pressure as he moves.
"Oh my god, that's it," you plead, opening your eyes to look at where he plays with you, balls still sunk deep.
You spur him on, rocking your hips as much as you can with your legs back, fucking yourself on his balls as he strokes your clit. You feel your pussy tense, little spasms warning you of what's to come, and you hold on tight to your own legs.
"That's it darlin'. Come on my balls. Squeeze 'em."
"F-fuuuck."
The swipe of his thumb sends you over, and you come hard on his balls with your head back and eyes squeezed shut. Your legs shake and you know he can feel how you twitch and spasm around his balls, drenching them as he dunks them in you, shallowly thrusting them as you tighten and grip him hard.
He's holding your legs back for you, looking you in the eye as he bends forward over your limp body when you open your eyes. The feral look on his face tells you he hasn't come yet, and you're desperate to see when he does.
"You been so nice I'm gonna give you an extra present. You ready?"
"Please Santa Joel, I've been so good this year," you say with a soft smirk.
He soon wipes the smirk off your face when he fucks down into you harder, practically bouncing off your ass as he slots his swollen balls into your pussy. They feel so big and heavy inside you, and even strapped down and pulled tight by the toy, you feel his balls tighten and try to draw up closer to his cock as he gets closer to coming.
"Come on me. Please. Come on me," you beg, staring between his cock and his face. Pre-cum had been steadily dripping onto you, splattering your belly, but you were hungry for more.
His fingers grip around his flushed head, stroking easily over the slicked surface. Pushing his balls deep, he bounces gently, loving the feel of his sensitive ball skin inside of your soaked hole.
"Here it comes, darlin'. Oh shit."
"Yeah, come on me. Come all over me Joel."
"Shit. Fuck."
You watch his slit as it seems to wink at you before ropes of come spurt out of the tip, shooting across your chest and neck, spattering your face and even your hair with his cum.
"Yes, yes, thank you," your eyes have snapped shut. You can feel the warm trickle of cum by your eyebrow, and you're not keen to feel the sting of semen in your eye.
For a little while he looks at you, fucked out by his balls and laying boneless on your couch. With a soft pop he pulls out of you, leaving you feeling empty without his balls in you. Your legs flop down and you listen to his deep breaths.
"Nothin' like a ballgasm," he pants.
Nothing like being ballfucked, you think, but the words are heavy in your mouth and you do nothing but moan, mumbling some nonsense.
"Mm... balls. They... mm. Yeah. Good."
"Too fucked out, huh?" he laughs, before swiping the cum from near your eye. "Make a Christmas wish," and he slips the finger into your waiting mouth.
He slides his finger from your mouth and you murmur a thank you as you make your wish, sighing and letting yourself relax completely for a moment.
When you tentatively open your eyes, wary of any errant drops of cum, he's gone, disappeared as soon as he'd arrived. You didn't hear the door, the window, anything. You certainly didn't hear him get dressed.
Feeling stupid, and like maybe it was all just a dream, you rush to the window. You don't expect to see anything, the man feeling too magical to have been real. But, there he is, walking down the street bare assed, his pants slung over his shoulder and his balls still swinging strapped into the toy.
No, you don't think you'll be forgetting your first Christmas in Texas any time soon at all.
soz to my tag list for this: @jupiter-soups @wannab-urs @bean-is-reading @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @youandmeand5bucks-blog @bbyanarchist @vickywallace @kamcrazy123 @valkyreally @ashhlsstuff @a-literal-goblin @ariundercovers @iluvurfather @stevie75 @toxicanonymity @thesevi0lentdelights @sp00kymulderr
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actually-safer-to-kiss · 10 months
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grumpy!reader x sunshine!spencer
Ruffled Feathers
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Summary: Spencer wants to go grocery shopping early while Reader prefers sleeping in.
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Category: Fluff
Content warnings: none
Word count: 1.1k
A/N: thank you for the request, love 🩵
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“Let’s get the grocery shopping done early,” Spencer said at seven in the morning. “That way we have the rest of the day to spend at my place if we want," he said. The word “early” has a completely different meaning to you than to your peppy, early-bird boyfriend.
While you believe early is 9 am and anything before that should be considered unnatural, Spencer is always up before the sun. It’s pretty common to wake up to sunlight forcing your eyes to open while Spencer is in the living room on his second cup of coffee and rereading Tolstoy or Dickens. He never minds you sleeping in. He’ll even offer to make your coffee if he sees you peeling the covers off.
He offered you a cup this morning, and God did you take every drop. You got halfway through the second cup before Spencer was already itching to leave. Something else Spencer enjoys a lot is grocery shopping, eager like a puppy ready for the park. Luckily he offered to drive while you nursed on your second cup, shielding it from any hazardous bumps on the way.
You could admit your frustration with Spencer not giving you the time to wake up before heading out, but your silence throughout the drive says plenty. He’s familiar with it. It’s the silence that comes with five hours of sleep. He understands this is not a time to dabble in the produce section or the dairy aisle. He also understood you were ready to leave before even getting started, as you didn’t even try to change out of your pajamas.
That is one of the best things about having a profiler as a boyfriend. All the subtle cues and behavior changes he picks up on, and if he knows you well enough, he acts accordingly. So when he puts the car in the park, you feel him watching you take that last satisfying gulp of sugary liquid. Caffeine courses through your blood as you shakily put your travel mug between you in the cup holder. You both don’t speak a word when Spencer hands you a folded-up sheet of paper. You unfold it and read his scribbles: milk, cheese, ice cream, peanut butter, celery, sliced apples.
You look at Spencer. “There’s not much on mine.” Your voice is still groggy, but you clear it to sound more awake. It doesn’t work.
“I can take care of the rest.” He tells you, holding up his half (⅔ technically). “You can meet me at the checkout and we’ll be ready to head home.”
You nodded, mostly at the end of that sentence. Because crawling back into bed after a brief productive period has never sounded so heavenly. You were literally dressed for the occasion and suddenly eager to grocery shop, knowing this list is brief and the store is small. You’ll be done in minutes.
Upon entering the store, you and Spencer grab your respective shopping carts and split up. Spencer takes his cart and kicks on, his left foot perched onto the cart as he glides forward like a ballerina turned rogue from her box. You, however, patrol up and down, finding items in various orders. The brands you’re used to were in plenty. You even grabbed an extra jar of peanut butter for your secret (sometimes inebriated) snacking purposes.
Remembering said snacking ventures, you recall your favorite candy bar. You also recall how you’ve been low on stock at your place for weeks since they’re only sold at Spencer’s local store. The candy aisle is feet away at this point, so the decision is obvious. You charge toward it, with the brand and packaging in mind. You scan the shelves up and down, prominent brands obvious with saturated wrappers and bold lettering. At the end of the aisle, though, you learn the hard way that the candy bars, your candy bars, are out of stock.
Granted, it’s not a big deal. But it’s also a very big deal.
You try to drown out the deep sound of your disappointment. It strikes your soul, yet you push on, toward the self-checkout area. Spencer is already there, scanning items, and waving you over as if you didn’t already see him. You use your caffeine-coated might to push the cart along, past the forming line.
You give Spencer your items, per his request for extra points on his value card. You also let him bag and place them in the cart. Spencer nods and smiles as he reviews each item. The beep of the scanner is almost perfect with his efficiency and the look of small joys on his face is nearly enough to drown out your slightly exaggerated despair. Caffeine can help you behave the opposite, even though exhaustion is soon to follow.
You look back to find your cart empty, the other filled with eight bags. You both head to the exit and then to the car, each carrying four bags. The sun begins to blaze and the early summer heats up your fuzzy pajamas. The car is mere feet away as sweat breaks. Spencer, of course, cannot relate. Because every time you look over from one end of the parking lot to the other, he has this smirk on his face that you can't quite read.
You open Spencer's car's back door and put your bags in first. After shaking your arms from the burn of the weighted plastic bags left behind, you reach for the passenger door. Spencer, on the other hand (literally, he’s still holding bags, risking spillage), reaches out for your wrist. With your fingers wrapped around the handle, you look at your boyfriend with questioning eyes. He gives you one of the bags, leaving its own imprint on his skin. He says, "Take it," his smirk grows.
One eyebrow pricks up with a look of suspicion. All questions in your mind fall under the What Did You Do? Category. You take it anyway, with both hands as you let go of the door handle. “Do I ask?”
“Look at the bottom.”
You do as told, continuing to stare as you send your hand on a spelunking mission for secrets you’re not sure what to feel about. The matte finish with raised lettering screams out something very special. Your fingers brush against the sharp corners of the foil layer in the middle, and you count three of them: candy bars. Your favorite candy bars. You look up at Spencer. And as your skepticism melts into a soft pout, Spencer does the same. Is he mocking you? Yes. Does it soon morph into genuine pride at being the best boyfriend ever? Also yes.
And after your expression melts, your arms do too as they fall limp around Spencer’s waist. You hug him tight while burying your face in his chest.
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viviennevermillion · 6 months
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My boyo. He's so adorable but SOOOO deranged it's not even funny. Like how do you work for human traffickers to make up for your inescapable poverty, use your magic to turn people into puppets to sell, enchant them to participate in a whimsical musical number for no reason but your own personal amusement, tell the terrified victims over loudspeaker how shit you think they are, let yourself be enraged by a bunch of sassy high schoolers and then decide by the end of the day, to quote my dear friend Azul Ashengrotto, I CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE!!! How does one go from trafficking children to wanting to found a school for magicless children in the span of 24 hours. How do you manage to escape a probably exploitative work contract AND steal your bosses' property in the span of 24 hours with nothing but 1 madol and a dream? How's he going to fund this school? He apparently has to be worried about getting enough to eat. How do you just go "you're right, no more trafficking children, from now on I'm gonna commit to the good of humanity :)"
His lesson from the whole thing was "actually schools are good!" rather than "wow I feel so bad for all the people I probably sold :/"
There is not a sane bone in his body and no rational thought in his brain. His thoughts probably contain so much cursing that the sentences are unintelligible when you censor them. Everytime he speaks to a person he doesn't like, he internally adds "you mediocre little fuckshit pissbabies" or similar to the end of the statements. He has the most deranged evil laugh ever. Even when he likes you and you tell him a funny joke he goes "hehehahahaaAHAAHAHAHAHHAHAH" like he's about to kill someone. He likes having his little ears scratched. He bites though.
He's like the biggest asshole cat you can mentally picture. He doesn't just push stuff off your shelves, he takes the vases and chucks them at unsuspecting pedestrians. He's mad at you and you ask him for a glass of milk and he takes the milk carton out of the fridge and pours the entire thing all over the floor and kitchen counters without breaking eye contact. There's a collection of knives on his bedroom wall.
He's my special little guy. They want to study him to update the DSM-5. He eats the rich. He needs some money to found his little school so he gotta work in retail, scanning the customers' products at checkout and muttering "fucking bourgeoisie cockroach" under his breath. Shamelessly lists "amusement park manager" and "salesman" in his CV as if he worked at a legitimate business. He once had a mental breakdown at the grocery store after closing hour and downed a bottle of whiskey straight from the shelf and then danced through the snack aisle stabbing his cane into the chips bags out of boredom while singing "you're never fully dressed without a smile". Gidel being mute is the only reason this kid does not curse like an uncensored Rapper version of Ebenezer Scrooge.
He's clinically insane. He's the most wondrous attraction at Playful Land. He hopes the afterlife is a musical. He's Fellow Honest. This is a fake name.
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lovebugism · 1 year
Note
Hi I am begging on my knees for more of your steddie x reader it’s so good I’m crying
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BIZARRE LOVE TRIANGLE | baby fever
summary: steve's got a bad case of baby fever. it's not so bad until you start getting sick with it too. eddie has to come up with a solution before all of you fall ill.
pairing: steve harrington / f!reader / eddie munson
a/n: i just realized i haven't posted anything steddie related in almost three months. i am so sorry. this is a total travesty. please enjoy this 3k blurb and find it in your heart to forgive me <3
You squint at the grocery list scribbled on a bright blue sticky note. It’s a mish-mash of all your different handwritings. Some are certainly neater than others. “This just says crabs… I think...”
“It doesn’t say crabs, you loon,” Eddie laughs from where he mans the shopping cart beside you. He’s steering the thing about as well as his van. “It says cereals.”
“No, it says a bunch of gibberish that no one can read but you,” you retort with a giggle of your own as you follow him down the breakfast aisle. “And we just need one box of cereal, alright? Singular.”
He turns to you with a cartoonish pout on his lips. “But why?”
“Because you’re like a kid, Eds. You eat the entire thing in one sitting, and then you’re absolutely haywire for the rest of the day.”
And, just like a child, the boy stands in front of the vibrantly colored boxes of cereal with a wide grin on his face.
The local grocery store was smaller compared to the others in town, but they had every brand of the breakfast food known to man, stacked in neat rows from the floor to ceiling. 
Eddie’s got a twinkle in his eye as his gaze runs over them all. And even though you think it’s all boyish and hilarious, you let him have his fun. 
He grew up unable to enjoy all the goodness of overly sweet cereal because bills and food with actual sustenance were always more important. Now, he’s got a halfway stable job with Wayne at the car shop, and he’s living at his own place with his boyfriend and girlfriend, and he can buy whatever the hell kind of cereal he wants. 
So, as far as he’s concerned, everyone who said he’d never amount to much can suck it. 
And you know you’ll let him buy the whole damn grocery store out of their cereal if that’s what he wants. It’s the least you can do for the world’s best boyfriend — a title he begrudgingly shares with Steve The Hair Harrington.
You’d give him the world if you could, but for now you’ll have to settle for a couple of boxes of Lucky Charms.
“Okay, so the OJ’s we got last time tasted like absolute shit,” Eddie mutters, mostly to himself as he crouches to peer at the lower shelves. “I saw a commercial for Waffle-O’s this morning, and they looked pretty good. But I know you like Breakfast With Barbie and Steve ate a bowl of C3PO’s every day for, like, two weeks, so…”
You stand by the cart and laugh at his rambling. You turn to look behind you with a lighthearted joke sitting on the edge of your tongue. It dissipates when you realize Steve isn’t next to you. 
Instead, he’s still standing at the end of the aisle with his back to you and Eddie — like his feet forgot how to work when he caught sight of the family across the store. It’s a mother and a father, dressed in their mid-weekday finest, with a baby swaddled at their chest and a toddler bouncing in the seat of the shopping cart. 
And you know it’s got the boy totally lost in his own head. You know he's picturing you and him and Eddie as that happy family — the one fills every store you walk into with baby babbles and bubbly laughter. 
Steve told you his senior year of high school he wanted a baby, that he wanted six of them, and that he wanted them all with you. And you were just a stupid seventeen-year-old girl who would’ve done anything he asked you to, though you definitely drew the line at babies. 
But you’re older now, and far more settled than you had been all that time ago. Steve’s ready for a family, but you don’t think you’re anywhere close.
“How about we just compromise and get all three?” Eddie finally concludes with the boxes already in his arms. He dumps them into the cart and notices that your attention is elsewhere. He realizes then that Steve’s gone too because his attention is stuck on a nice family minding their own business. 
“Not again…” he murmurs to himself while you go rescue the boy.
“I’ve never seen someone so sick with baby fever in my life,” you laugh as you drag Steve back to the cart by his wrist.
“I can’t help it!” he defends weakly. “They were so cute! They were all matching and I couldn’t stop thinking about how I can’t wait to coordinate outfits with our baby. Doesn’t that sound like the cutest fucking thing ever?”
“It sounds very adorable, Stevie,” you nod understandingly and try to ignore the way your stomach twists at the thought of him and his baby girl wearing matching pastels every time they step out of the house. “And we can be just like them in five years—”
“Five years?” he gapes.
“Maybe even ten,” Eddie shrugs and nonchalantly tosses a box of Count Chocula into the cart.
“Ten years— You guys are insane if you think I’m waiting ten years to have a kid!” Steve protests with a pair of buff arms crossed boyishly over his chest. “I’m not getting any younger over here, you know that, right?”
“You’re twenty-five, Steve, stop being so dramatic. We’re just now trying to get settled. I’m still in school, you’re still working at Family Video, Eddie’s still… Eddie. Don’t you think we should have actual careers before we have a kid?”
Steve huffs and rolls his eyes, feigning annoyance even though he knows you’re right.
It’s not like he wants to keep working at the stupid store on Main Street. He keeps putting off the conversation with his dad about another job, because he puts off every conversation with his dad. He’s scared of what asking for a position at his firm will do to his pride.
“She’s right, and you know it, Steven,” Eddie tells him, then scoffs. “I mean, can you really imagine me with a baby strapped to my chest on tour?”
You and Steve both pause and tilt your heads to the side as you picture the sight, terribly in sync as always. You can imagine it, quite perfectly actually, tangible enough to touch.
“Well—”
“That’s the cutest thing I think I’ve ever heard,” Steve finishes your thought for you.
Eddie cowers at the sudden attention. “Okay, stop looking at me like I’m a piece of meat, alright? We are not having a kid right now. There’s no fucking way.”
Steve all but deflates at the rejection as Eddie pushes the cart down the aisle, desperate to escape the bubble of tension the conversation had created in the cereal section.
You smile sheepishly over at Steve and wrap your arms through the crook of his elbow, standing on the tips of your toes to press a kiss to his cheek. “He’s being grumpy about it, but he’s right… It’s just not a good idea right now— but it will be, okay? One day. Just not… to-day.”
The day, for you, comes exactly seven of them later. 
You accompany Steve on his morning run and his routine stop for coffee. You’re not quite sure how he’s still mobile because your muscles are screaming, even after the warm shower you took to soothe them.
You left him alone for all of half a second to use the bathroom while he ordered drinks for him and you, and something extra for Eddie for when the boy decides to roll out of bed.
When you return, you find him bouncing a baby on his hip — a young thing, maybe three if you had to guess, with two buns in her hair like bunny ears and a sparkly pink dress to match the bows she wears in them.
Steve smiles down at her, talking to her in a baby voice and saying something you can’t hear because you’re frozen in place. You resemble him at the grocery store a week ago, when he was thrown into a daydream so suddenly that his body all but shut down. 
You look at him now, tickling the baby’s sides just to hear her giggle, and you see him with your firstborn — sleep deprived, covered in spit-up, and still the most beautiful human you’d ever seen.
You have to shake your head to remove the thought before it ruins you entirely. 
Freshly jostled from your stupor, you walk over to him. “Steve… Please tell me you didn’t steal someone’s baby.”
He laughs. “What? No! She was just a little fussy, and I offered to take her while her mom looked for something,” the boy explains. You look just behind him to see the woman bent over at one of the smaller tables, sifting vigorously through a large baby bag.
“She doesn’t seem very fussy now,” you observe, eyes flitting between his and the child's and noticing they’ve both got matching grins.
“She doesn’t, does she?” he smiles, softly scratching at her sides again to make her laugh. And she does, most enthusiastically so, tilting her head back and letting the giggles spill from an open mouth.
He turns back to you, with wide eyes and raised brows and a bemused grin. “I like she likes me.”
“Of course, she does,” you scoff. “Babies always like you.”
The mom returns with a snack in hand and a relieved smile. Steve passes the baby back to her with little effort. She whines at the loss of him, though the brightly packaged treat is quick to quell her sorrow. 
“Thanks for taking her,” the mother's grateful smile falters with exhaustion. “If I don’t give her the same snack at exactly the same time every day, she tends to go a little nuts.” 
Steve tells her that it’s no problem, that he was a part-time babysitter at one point in his life, and that her kid was better than those little shits combined. He censors himself before the swear slips out, though.
You go your separate ways when the barista calls out your drink orders and walk hand in hand back to your place.
“Did you get their names?” you ask him before taking a sip of your latte.
“The mom’s name was Maeve and the kid’s name was Harper—”
“Holy shit,” you mutter.
Steve snaps his head over to you because he thinks you’ve burnt your mouth. Instead, he finds you with a distant smile on your face.
“Those are the cutest names I’ve ever heard. It sounds like something out of a fucking cartoon or something.”
“Yeah…” is all he can say because his mind is preoccupied with a million other thoughts. He doesn’t tell you them, obviously, but you know they’re there. The sly smile pulling at his lips makes it obvious.
“…Why are you looking at me like that.”
“Because I’m totally gonna wear you down,” he grins and brings his coffee to his mouth, sipping through his smirk.
You only scoff in response. “Never.”
It doesn’t take you very long to realize that Steve was right.
You spend the rest of the day thinking about it — about him with a baby and how perfect he'd be as a dad. The thoughts plague you far more than they usually do. They take up the entire frontal cortex of your brain and make it nearly impossible to think about anything else.
You’re self-aware enough to beat yourself up about it. 
You were just telling him that it wasn’t time yet, and you knew you were right. As far as you’re concerned, you still have another few good years before you’re ready to even start seriously considering it. 
But here you are, having to calm yourself down every time the thought of Steve Harrington with a baby, your baby, crosses your mind.
You wait until the boy heads to bed to talk to Eddie about it. You find him in the kitchen, eating handfuls of Breakfast with Barbie like a maniac. You’re too preoccupied to make a snarky comment about it.
“Steve wasn’t lying,” you warn him.
“..About what?” he wonders through the mouthful.
“About him not waiting ten years to have a baby! He wants one now!” you explain through a yell-whisper hybrid. “And he told me he was going to wear me down, and he was right.”
Eddie’s eyes go wide too, like he’s just learned you caught some sort of plague. You have. It’s called baby fever, and it’s only a matter of time before the entire house is afflicted. “Shit…”
“So you have to be the strong one, Eddie.”
“Oh, god,” he whines with pinched brows. “Why does it have to be me?”
“Because I saw him hold a baby today.”
“…And this is a bad thing?”
“Of course, it’s a bad thing! My hormones went crazy, okay? It’s like my brain stopped functioning, and I started thinking with my ovaries or something! All human instinct told me to lay down and procreate the second we got home!”
Eddie laughs to himself. “Are you sure it was human instinct, or was it just you on a normal Wednesday?”
“I’m being serious, Eddie,” you tell him, a sudden solemnity to your features. “You have to put your foot down whenever Steve talks about it because I will cave.”
“Alright, alright, have some Barbie cereal and settle down,” he tells you with a playful grin.
He offers you the box and you pout for a moment before sticking your hand into it and pulling out several red and purple butterfly pieces.
The boy wraps an arm around you with his free hand. He pulls you closer and noses at the crown of your head. You sigh as you relax into him. 
“I’ll take care of it, okay? I actually have the perfect idea.”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” you waver through a mouthful of cereal.
“Don’t worry about it,” he lilts with a grin, smacking a kiss to your forehead. “Let me take care of it.”
You and Steve are tangled in bedsheets, both slowly rousing but trying desperately to go back to sleep. 
You’re laying on your stomach, face smushed into the pillow you clutch to your head. Steve lays halfway on top of you — his legs knotted with yours, arm splayed over your back, and softly snoring in your ear. 
Both of you noticed the lack of Eddie’s presence, but chose not to linger on it too much, figuring he must’ve gone for a breakfast run. 
He returns hardly a moment after the thought of him crosses your mind. You hear the door open and shut again, then the shouts of your names entwined with a muffled barking.
You groan at the intrusion on your sleep.
Steve huffs and shifts against you, voice gruff with fatigue as he wonders: “Why do I hear a dog?”
The mixture of confusion and subtle knowing has you both shuffling out of the bedroom and trudging into the living room.
You round the corner and find Eddie standing by the door with a rowdy goldendoodle bouncing at his feet. He’s trying hopelessly to undo its leash when the thing starts to squirm at the sight of you and Steve.
Eddie’s eyes flit to the both of you when he notices you standing across the room. A smile bursts like early morning sunshine on his face. “Surprise!” he beams.
The metal of the leash clicks when he finally gets it unbuckled. The dog dashes your way, all but jumping into Steve and then spinning in circles with excitement as it tries to figure out who to accept attention from. 
“You got us a dog?” the boy wonders, head cocked back to dodge the thing as it licks at his chin.
“You said you wanted a baby,” Eddie shrugs. “So, I got you a baby.”
“This is so not what a meant,” the boy grouses in response, though he’s got his arms wrapped around the dog like he’s hugging it. “I mean, it’s not even a baby— it’s huge.”
“The woman at the shelter said he was eight months old. And he is a he, so stop calling him it.”
You crouch beside Steve, scratching the dog behind his ear. He pants with his tongue sticking out, almost looking like he’s smiling. It makes you smile too. 
“We don’t even have dog food. Or toys. Or a bed,” you stress. “What are we even gonna name it?”
“Well, I took care of exactly one of those things,” Eddie lilts with a grin. “They only had that gross artificial shit at the grocery store, but they did have some badass collars and an engraving machine, so…”
You and Steve peek through the dog’s golden curls and find a black band with silver spikes dotted around the neck. “Super metal, huh?” you hear himEdiejoke as you reach for the dangled heart pendant handing around the collar.
“…Ozzy?” you recite.
“See what I mean?” he beams. “Metal.”
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