#IT WAS A SUIT BOUGHT OUT OF PURE LOVE OKAY

[soulless-shakesprood]

do you cry when Darcy's friends gave her their bits of money so she could afford her gender-affirming prom outfit or are you normal?

#IT WAS A SUIT BOUGHT OUT OF PURE LOVE OKAY #IM SO NOT NORMAL ABOUT IT #heartstopper #heartstopper s2 #kizzy edgell #darcy olsson

[whimsyeo]

perfect for you

જ⁀➴ jeong yunho x fem!reader (ft. seonghwa)

༄ yunho prepares the perfect date to finally pop the question to you. absolutely nothing goes as planned.

wc; 2.7k

cw; failed marriage proposal, established relationship, absolute pure fluff, minor injury (reader), slight mention of blood, yunho’s trying his best okay</3

notes; on a writing kick here lately, and i had to write something sweet to make up for my last angsty yunho fic! small spoiler: he cries this time haha :,)

🎧 sunlight by hozier & 18 by one direction

Yunho had been planning this night for weeks. With the help of resident hopeless romantic, his close friend Seonghwa, he was certain the preparations couldn't of gone any better.

A romantic dinner followed by a walk in the park to a decided upon clearing, where you two could watch the stars together. Then, while you were distracted by the constellations, he would get down on one knee and ask you the question that's been weighing on his mind and even heavier on his heart for as long as he's known you.

Truly, he's known all along. Blurted it out, too, before he could stop himself on what was just your very second date together. That he could imagine himself marrying you. He had turned red in the face from the blunder while you only giggled. He was relieved his declaration hadn't bothered you at all, and spurred on by the sound of your unabashed joy, he felt all the more assured of his feelings.

Seonghwa had suggested not doing anything too out of the ordinary from your regular date nights to not draw any suspicion. Yunho agreed with this, as difficult as it was not to pounce on you from sheer excitement after finally seeing you in the dress he had bought you just for this evening. You both occasionally coordinated the other for your respective planned date nights, so you'd had no qualms about wearing what he had picked out for you. You looked a dream in the dark red fabric, the color suiting you perfectly and the fit even better than Yunho could've imagined (women's sizing was a complete mystery to him, and so he felt once again grateful to have had Seonghwa's help).

He finds himself staring at the expanse of your bare shoulders when you call him on it, his gaze snapping to meet your's with what can only be a blinding smile. He can't hide his enthusiasm in the slightest, but given your past comparisons of him to that of a hyperactive puppy on just any regular day, he's hopeful that his demeanor comes as no surprise to you. The star gazing would be new for you both, but otherwise, you didn't seem the slightest bit privy to his actual plans. He feels positive that the night is already going so well.

Until it doesn't.

"Sunday?" Yunho asked, brows pulled together in confusion. "Are you sure? I'm positive I made the reservation for Saturday."

Yunho pats down his pants, the weight of the ring in his front pocket suddenly feeling so much heavier, and sighs when he can't find the familiar imprint of his phone. Of course, he'd left it in his car.

"I'm sorry, sir," the hostess says, tapping on the screen in front of her. "Your reservation was made for the 21st."

"Today's the 20th?" He mumbles to himself. He had prepared for everything so thoroughly, how could he have gotten the actual date wrong?

"It happens, love," you reassure from beside him. He glances over as you rub his arm, an unwavering smile still present on your face. "There's an Italian place across the street. I'm pretty sure they're reservation optional."

Yunho relaxes at your quick thinking. He had felt himself begin to spiral, already believing the whole night was ruined because he somehow messed up this one little thing. He realizes he shouldn't let a small mix up change the entire course of the night, so he nods, giving you an appreciative grin as he agrees.

The place you mentioned is, in fact, directly across from your usual date spot. Yunho never paid it much mind, as you two only ever came to this side of town for the same restaurant every time. But standing outside of it now, the building is just as inviting. Warm lighting shining through the iron windows and then the door when he holds it open for you. The blend of aromas from where you enter is pleasant, and he almost feels silly for nearly panicking over something so honestly small. It was a shame the same restaurant he'd officially asked you out in wouldn't be apart of your proposal story now, but while you appreciated those kinds of sentimental attachments as much as he did, he knew better than to think it would actually change anything for you.

(Yunho had asked you before about what your dream proposal might look like. He had imagined something like a ferris wheel ride, or watching the fireworks together on a warm summer night. A customary dish from your dream travel destination or maybe a home cooked picnic.

"You could propose to me with a paper ring and I'd still say yes," you told him so easily. As if your words didn't make his heart nearly leap entirely out of his chest and run home to you, it's true holder, from the deep affection that floods him.

The topic of marriage wasn't uncharted territories for you both. You talked about it before as something you would equally want whenever the timing is right. Yunho only ever held out for your sake, really. In his heart of hearts he'd always known it belonged with you.

Unable to contain the love he feels any longer, he pressed a firm kiss onto your cheek, "I just want it to be perfect for you. All you've ever dreamed of."

Yunho means it with his whole being. You could ask for the world and he'd find a way to give it to you, or at least run to the very ends of the Earth trying. Never giving up on his search unless you were the one to then tell him to.

You sit up suddenly, him pouting at the loss of warmth by his side while you turn to him seriously. Cupping either side of his face as your eyes pour into his, you make absolute sure that your words are heard loud and clear.

"You are everything I've ever dreamed of, Yunho.")

You're sat comfortably in a booth meant for two when the waiter brings your food, you both having settled for variations of the same pasta dish. The smell is just as inviting as when you first walked it.

As Yunho always does, he waits for you to begin eating first. It's only after you take a bite that he then picks up his own fork, and as he's bringing it to his mouth, he notices your gaze fixed on him.

"What?" He asks, nonchalant. He takes the bite off the fork while your shoulder shake with barley contained laughter. His chewing slows to a stop as the realization dawns on him. He looks down at his plate, a frown creasing between his brows. "Oh. This tastes horrible."

Your giggles break through at that, his head shooting up at the sound and a grin taking over his face on it's own accord.

"Yeah," you agree, smiling despite your words. "It does."

Yunho can't help but chuckle as well, and before long you're both unable to contain your equally loud laughter. Yunho can't find it in himself to be upset at yet another unexpected bump in the road when you just find it so funny.

It's a while before you two are able to look at each other again without laughing, and once you can, Yunho suggests taking your chances on the food vendors you had passed coming inside. Street skewers sound like fine dining compared to the over salted yet still bland pasta in front of you, so you agree.

The chicken skewers are in fact a lot tastier. You and Yunho share your respective two before your walking down the same street as before, interlaced hands swinging between you.

Dinner was unfortunate, but the second half at least was completely out of Yunho's control. He feels better because of that and your easy going reaction to it all. In the future, he imagines you too cracking up over it again, about how the night he proposed was so far from perfect but ended as happily as ever. He can't physically smile any wider at the thought of what's to come, so he squeezes your hand in barley contained excitement.

He can no longer deny the nerves twisting in his stomach once more. The actual proposal was the one thing that could absolutely not go wrong. He couldn't picture in any way that it could - you were a few minutes walk away from the park it was meant to happen, and he could still feel the weight of the ring that he had no way of forgetting in his pocket. Surely it would be smooth sailing from here.

Yunho's steps stutter as he recognizes what sounds suspiciously like thunder rumbling overhead. He huffs a laugh, because there's no way - he must be just so on edge that he's imagining things now. The weather was the one thing he had worried about the most and planned carefully around from the beginning, constantly checking the forecast all morning just to reassure himself. It'd read as a zero percent chance for rain the whole day. No signs of a drizzle at any point this week, even.

But then the first drop falls, and Yunho swears this must be a joke. He tilts his head up as the rain starts, picking up momentum a lot quicker with every passing second. You come to the realization just as he does, shoulders rising as a surprised gasp leaves your lips.

"Let's get you inside," he says, glancing around for any kind of overhang. The closest one he sees is just up ahead, a little further into your walk and closer to the parking lot his car is in.

Determined to at least get you out of the rain before deciding his next course of action, he tugs on your arm. The rain only falls harder with every hurried step you both take, and even if your positively soaked already, Yunho tries to pull you along quickly. Belatedly taking into account how damp the sidewalk has already gotten too, until you almost entirely slip out of his hold and onto your knees on the concrete.

He manages to stop you from completely face planting, but doesn't miss your slight wince as he helps you back to your feet. Yunho decides the overhang is a lost cause and you're better off going straight to the car instead. So, with hurried but more cautious steps, he takes you straight there.

You're both equally drenched by the time he helps you into the passenger seat, and rounds the car to his driver's side. He breathes a sigh of relief once he's finally out of the frigid rain, and quickly cranks up the car to get the heat started before you get sick. He flicks on the overhead lights as he turns to check on you.

"Are you-" Yunho starts to ask, but his gaze falls onto you knee that presumably had hit the ground after your fall. The other came out unscathed, luckily, but he doesn't feel the least bit better when your left knee is scrapped enough to have small droplets of blood forming. "Oh, love, you're bleeding..."

"I'm okay," you reassure, a smile on your lips despite the angry redness of your knee. "It's just a little scratch."

Yunho still feels terrible, even as your sat on the bathroom sink while he dabs at the scrapes with feather like touches. The cotton ball in his hand hardly makes any contact with the wounds, and you can't help but laugh softly at his overly careful antics.

"I don't know if that's doing much of anything," you tease lightheartedly, hoping to ease some of the crease between his brows.

It does no such thing, "I don't want to hurt you even more."

You sigh, "Yunho, baby..." His frown is still fixated on your wounded knee, so you gently cup his chin to encourage his attention back to you. "Look at me. I'm okay, I promise."

You bring your right hand to hold the other side of his jaw, holding firm eye contact to ensure your words stick. Presumably they do, but you don't anticipate Yunho's own filling with tears in matter of seconds.

"I ruined everything," he mumbles, attempting to blink away the wetness clouding his vision. It doesn't work, and the first tear makes a pitiful trail down cheek, tugging on your heart as it goes.

"What?" You register his words, mirroring his frown. "Baby, you did nothing wrong."

Yunho stands up straight, running a hand through his damp hair as he begins to ramble, "Tonight was supposed to be perfect for you. Hyung helped me plan everything and it all seemed so nice but then absolutely everything that could've went wrong did and then I made you trip and - and I just want marry you but now you're hurt because of me and I-"

"Yun," you cut him off with a careful hand on his shoulder. "You want to marry me?"

Yunho freezes, his brain catching up to his mouth and he groans, "I really did ruin everything."

You sigh, lifting your hands back up to hold Yunho's shoulders firmly in place.

"Ask me," you simply say.

Yunho sputters for a moment, searching your expression for any hint of upset or disappointment. He doesn't know how to feel that he finds none, only the slight quirk at the end of your lips, pushing an all knowing grin.

"What?" He asks, the fresh tear tracks on his cheeks causing a painful twist in your chest. You reach up to gently dab the wetness away, directing him a warm smile.

"Do you have the ring on you?" You ask instead.

Stunned, Yunho scrambles to pat down his pockets. The one thing that hadn't gone completely wrong all night - he didn't forget the ring. He pulls the velvet black box out of his back pocket. He holds it in his hand, staring blankly at you.

"Well?" You probe, crossing your arms over your chest. "Are you going to ask me?"

Yunho blinks dumbly as he comes to understand. He feels himself wanting to cry again for an entirely different reason. Biting back his own grin, he lowers himself to one knee - not an easy feat given your compact apartment bathroom. His back foot hits the wall and he's nearly in your lap by the end of it, but you're both too giddy to care.

"My love," he starts, feeling unsure. "Tonight did not go how I envisioned. At all. But it did reaffirm everything I already knew. I've always known, and right now I believe. In us and our future, more than anything. Will you-"

"Yes," you cut him off, unable to wait another second. "Yes, Yunho, God, yes."

You throw your arms around his neck, laughing and shaking and feeling the happiest you've ever felt. Yunho laughs as well, encircling his arms around your waist and pressing a kiss against your bare shoulder.

"Can you let me finish?" He teases easily, feeling a thousand times lighter and happier himself. You nod against his shoulder and huff a laugh of your own.

"Right, sorry," you pull back with a sniffle, wiping under your wet eyes. "Please continue."

Yunho laughs, his eyes filling with tears of joy as he opens the box back between you, "Will you marry me?"

A swarm of butterflies erupt inside of you, a feeling you haven't stopped experiencing since meeting Yunho all those years ago, and you nods hurriedly, "Yes. Yes, I'll marry you, Yunho."

His face nearly splits in two with the grin that takes over his features. He wastes no time pulling the ring from the box and slipping it onto your finger, heart warming at the perfect fit.

It's beautiful, practically glimmering under your overhead bathroom lighting, but all you want right now is to be in Yunho's arms once more.

So you toss yourself back into his embrace, holding on like your life and mind and heart depends on it. He clutches onto you just as tightly, pressing kiss after kiss into your still damp hair.

Yunho needs to finish cleaning your knee. He also wants to make you take a shower and strip of your wet clothes before a cold really sets in and so he can proper bandage the wound after. But for now, this is all he wants. To be holding the love of his life and now fiancée at the end of a long day that, despite everything, had turned out even more perfect than he could've ever imagined.

Yunho knew he could look forward to even more bad days, so long as he always had you to come home to at the end of it all.

#whimsyworks #yunho x reader #yunho fluff #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #jeong yunho x you #jeong yunho x reader #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #yunho reactions #yunho imagines #yunho x you #yunho scenarios

[hazbinwhoree]

Do you do yandere requests? Because I want to request yandere Adam and Lute with a shy imp reader who's terrified of angels and exorcists because she had a very traumatic experience during extermination day. Maybe he tries to take her to heaven, thinking she's too pure for hell and convincing Sera to turn her into an angel?

Milk & Cookies

Part 1/2 Part 2

A/N: I don’t usually write yandere so I hope you like it! I did my best but Adam might be a little out of character. I can do headcanons if this doesn’t satisfy, just request!

Warnings: Toxic relationships

Adam found (Name) during an extermination. The imp looked so utterly terrified, Adam actually couldn’t bring himself to kill her. She hadn’t seen him, so when she ran, Adam followed her. He didn’t really know why or what was special about this imp, but he was drawn to her.

When he met back up with Lute, he confided to her about the imp and his strange pull towards her. Lute shrugged him off until a year later, during the next extermination. She found an imp that looked so scared, it made Lute pause.

“What’s up, danger tits?” Adam asked, noticing her hesitation. He followed her gaze to the same imp who had been on his mind since last year.

“Her,” he murmured. “That’s her?” Lute asked. “Okay, I get it now.”

Adam pulled some strings to gather intel on the imp when they were finished the extermination. Her name was (Name). She’d been attacked during an extermination a few years ago, leaving her with white scars, and her best friend was brutally slaughtered in front of her. Adam was sympathetic, no wonder she was so terrified.

He decided her quality of life in Hell didn’t suit what she deserved. The poor thing deserved to be in Heaven.

With him.

During the next extermination, Adam and Lute sought her out. When they found her, she screamed and cried and begged, throwing things and kicking in a futile attempt to keep them back. But her small frame was nothing compared to Adam.

“Relax, we’re not gonna fucking hurt you,” he tried to soothe her, but he wasn’t exactly a soothing presence.

When it was clear she couldn’t be reasoned with, Adam just picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, taking flight with Lute close behind. (Name) screamed and cried, pounding on his back and kicking her feet, but she was no match to Adam’s strength.

It was hard to be discreet, carrying a resistant imp into Heaven. But he was Adam, and no one questioned him.

By the time they got to Adam’s home, (Name) had calmed down, accepting her fate. Adam brought her to his bedroom and put her down, blocking the door. She scampered into a corner, curling up into a fetal position.

Adam approached her and crouched down, holding out his hand like she was a scared animal. She blinked at him, her eyes teary, and recoiled. Adam sighed.

“It’s okay,” he said, voice sickly sweet. “You’ll learn to love it here. You’ll learn to love me.” (Name) whimpered.

Over the next few weeks, Adam kept her locked in his room, the only people allowed in being himself and Lute. Adam was slowly breaking (Name) down, getting her to accept her circumstances and accept him.

He even got her to tell him why she was so afraid of him in her own words. He fawned over her, pretending to be shocked and appalled by her story.

She bought it, and for the first time, let Adam touch her with a hug. Adam was ecstatic that she was coming around.

One day, he and Lute were on their way back to Adam’s home, when Sera appeared and stopped them.

“Adam, what is this I hear about you keeping an imp in your home?”

“Oh, (Name)? I’ve been meaning to talk to youuu,” he made meek finger guns at her.

She was unimpressed.

“Fine, she was too good for hell, and I want you to turn her into an angel.”

“She is hellborn. She has to want to become an angel to be turned,” Sera said. “And I have a feeling she doesn’t want to.” She gave Adam a pointed look.

“She will,” Adam declared.

Later that night, he brought the topic up to the imp during dinner.

“I want you to become an angel.”

(Name) stopped eating. “I like being an imp.”

“Don’t be fucking stupid, you’re the weakest breed in hell. You have a chance to live in Heaven forever. With me. Don’t you want that?”

(Name) teared up. “No, I don’t, I want to go home.”

Adam had been expecting resistance. “You’ll want it in time,” he said, standing and leaving her in the locked room. He didn’t care how long it took. He would break her down until she loved him.

Then she would stay with him.

Forever.

#hazbin adam #adam x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin charlie #hazbin husk #hazbin vaggie #hazbin vox #x reader #hazbin lute #hazbin hotel

[allur1ngs]

✮ a whisper of our love ✮

TW: don’t let the cute visuals deceive you this is pure ANGST to fluff, delulu bada strikes again, bada doesn’t know how to process her emotions but it’s okay she’s trying, reader is a chronic sweetie pie no one hate on her or i’ll find you, character death, guns, blood, descriptions of injury, grieving, emotional trauma, survivor’s guilt!! flashbacks in this fic are indicated by italicized text, sweet smut (dom & top!bada sub & bottom!reader, fingering–r!receiving, oral–bada!receiving, finger sucking–bada!receiving, scissoring/tribbing whatever you wanna call it–both!receiving obvs, tit sucking–r!receiving, a bit of spit… sorry, lots of praise & fluffy love–r!receiving) aftercare happens out of the fic

SUMMARY: bada confronts years of profound emotional turmoil to embrace the depths of her affection for you.

WC: 16.1k…no comment

A/N: find more information about this au on my masterlist! ...here it is!! the long-awaited official first kiss + first i love you, as well as first time together as a couple!! ngl i’m really proud of this one. many (not so obvious too) plot points come together this time so keep an eye out for them!! again–please ignore any spelling errors this is so long–& this one might be a bit heavy around the middle part so please take care of yourself!! but enjoy!!

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

Several months after the Seong incident, it finally felt like things were going back to normal. You got back into the swing of things, embracing your time in the Lee mansion, and rarely leaving unless you got antsy. You became much more vigilant while out, carefully observing your surroundings and never straying too far away from Hyo’s side. Malls, grocery stores, and casual strolls became few and far between, but at your behest. You gained a sense of normalcy staring at the same large walls and divots in your home—happy with your life as it is, everything felt complete.

Bada, on the other hand, who had become increasingly protective to the point she had been somewhat clingy, was finally starting to ease back into her busy work schedule, her visitations becoming rarer. Although you felt a bit melancholic at the fact that she was pulling away from you, you accepted that work would always be a large part of Bada’s life – whether either liked it or not. 

Thoughts such as these swirl in your mind as you get ready for a new day, rays of warm beige sunlight peaking through your mesh curtains and swirling in the air of your room. Every part of your body feels relaxed, muscles moving fluidly as you dress yourself up. Today, you’d invited your friends over – with Bada’s permission, of course – for a small get-together. A real one.

They’d been nagging you for days on end about seeing you again, and after finally breaking under the pressure, you invited them to come over and have breakfast with you, then take a nice dip in the infinity pool. You could practically hear the squeals of excitement through the all-caps text messages they’d responded with, all agreeing to your proposal and before conversing about what bathing suit they’d bring.

Now, on the day of their arrival, you get ready slightly earlier than you normally do, preparing accordingly for your friends.

“Good morning, Hyo.” You greet your bodyguard with a smile as you step out of your bedroom.

“Good morning, kid.” She nods. “Up and about already?”

“Yup,” you begin walking down the hallway, Hyo following you without a second thought. “The girls are coming over today for breakfast.”

“Right,” Hyo acknowledges. “You bought all those groceries yesterday for them.”

“Mhm,” you nod. “I need to get started on the cooking so that the food is ready for them when they arrive.”

“What a great hostess you are.” Hyo lightly teases you.

“Please, it’s just common courtesy.” You have a hand in dismissal. “Besides, knowing Jae, she’ll be crying about how she’s ‘so hungry’ the second she gets here.”

“Jae…” Hyo trails off, her mind wandering back to the day you’d been kidnapped, and how the woman had aided in your rescue. “I can tell you two care about each other a lot.”

“We do.” You turn into the kitchen, greeting the staff that’s already busy at work. "She's the first friend I made and the longest-lasting friendship I've ever had."

“How long?” Hyo asks, leaning against the counter as you begin to take out ingredients.

“Let’s see…” you pause, thinking to yourself. “about… fifteen years now, give or take a year or so.”

Hyo whistles loudly, sucking her teeth. “That’s a very long time.”

“It is,” you nod, “but really, it doesn’t feel that way. She’s always keeping me on my toes.”

Hyo snorts, “I can tell.” You lightly elbow her in the shoulder before focusing back on the food in front of you. “So, how’d you meet the rest of them?”

“Through my parents and school.” You start chopping some of the fresh vegetables on a newly cleaned chopping board. “I met Min-Ji not too long after Jae. She was the class president, and I was one of the top students, so we naturally clicked. Our parents also were long-time friends, so that was another factor, of course.”

“Min-Ji… which one was she?” Hyo crosses her arms across her chest, trying to remember the faces of your friends from the party.

“She was wearing a black cocktail dress. She has long black hair–”

“Ah, yes.” Hyo snaps her fingers. “I remember. She had a very mature look.”

“That’s because she’s the oldest out of all of us.” You nod. “Da-Eun is the second oldest. She’s the sporty type.”

“Was she the one that almost attacked me for pulling you out of the house?” Hyo scoffs.

“Yes,” you laugh, “that was Da-Eun. But don’t hold it against her, she’s very hot-headed and protective by nature.”

“I won’t.” Hyo shrugs. “I think it’s important to have friends that care about you.”

“I agree. They’ve all got me through some tough times.” You move around the kitchen, pulling out spices and seasoning the food. “What about you, Hyo?”

“My friends…” she lets out a long sigh. “Are all the Bebe girls, Boss, and you.”

You give Hyo a bright smile, nudging her shoulder, “Aww, you really do consider me your friend.”

“Are you really that surprised?” She chuckles.

“No, I knew you couldn’t resist my friendly disposition.” you wink at her playfully.

“Right…” she trails off. “So what’s on the menu?”

“I’m making kimchi pancakes, and egg rolls.” You say, while beating the eggs.

“Do you need help, Ms. Lee?” The head cook suddenly cuts in, offering to cook for you.

“Oh no, it’s alright.” You kindly dismiss. “I’ve got it.”

The head cook lightly bows before returning to preparing Bada’s breakfast.

You glance at Hyo from the corner of your eye, motioning her to come closer. She raises her eyebrows, but complies. “I still find it a bit strange that all the staff call me Ms. Lee.” You whisper to her.

“Well, you are engaged to the Boss,” Hyo whispers back.

“But we’re not married yet.” You point out.

“In their minds, you already are. You’re the Boss’s wife.”

Hearing it said aloud makes it more real. Although you’ve been living in the Lee mansion, and getting to know everyone, it slips your mind that this large building will officially become your home in a few months. That all the staff will be working for you – though technically they already are – that Bada’s business will, in some ways, be yours as well.

You will have her last name. You will be her wife.

As if in a trance, you move about the kitchen on autopilot, cooking, and eventually cleaning once you’re finished.

And like divine timing, the doorbell from the very front gate sounds, ringing in the living room and kitchen, taking you by surprise. “They’re here.” You mumble, hurriedly plating the kimchi pancakes, egg rolls, and their drinks.

It takes them a few minutes to get past security detail – although Bada agreed to let them visit, her only caveat was that they’d need to go through extensive security, for your protection, of course. But the second they step into the living room, all of their eyes widen, stars in their irises as they take in the diamond teardrop chandelier, and the golden-trimmed decorations glittering in the morning sun.

“This looks like the inside of Buckingham Palace.” Jae awes, her hand covering her agape mouth.

“How do you know what the inside of Buckingham Palace looks like?” Da-Eun raises an eyebrow at the younger woman.

Jae playfully glares at her friend, smacking her on the shoulder lightly. “It was just an expression.”

“Control yourselves.” Min-Ji cuts in, trying to contain the look of utter shock and amazement marring her expression. “We’re in someone else’s home now, so no funny business.”

“Where’s unnie?” Ryung speaks up, looking around the vast living room for you.

“Sorry–” you walk in from the kitchen carrying plates in your hands, Hyo following close behind with some across her arms as well. “I would have greeted you right when you came in but I just finished plating the food.”

“Food?” Jae exclaims, her eyes lighting up like a Christmas tree. “You made food for us?”

“You really didn’t have to–” Min-Ji says humbly.

You give them lightly scolding looks as you place down their food on the long dining table. It’s decorated to perfection; a crisp white tablecloth draped over the walnut wood table. Lit candelabras that drip hot candle wax rest in the center and outermost edges, small vases with blossoming flowers accompanying them. And to top it all off, in front of each dining chair, fine china and crystal wine glasses with embossed detailing are set aside next to firmly polished silverware.

“I invited you all over for breakfast, did you really think I wouldn’t serve any food?”

“We thought you would just let the staff make it instead,” Da-Eun admits.

“No, they’re already very busy preparing breakfast for Bada and Bebe.” You wave a hand in dismissal. “I didn’t want to burden them with any more work.”

“That’s so sweet of you!” Jae practically squeals, throwing herself at you and squeezing you tight in a hug.

You let out a small “oof” at the action, but eventually laugh and hug your best friend back. You stay like that only a minute before the sound of tiny sniffles reaches your ears, making you take a step back with a worried expression. Jae stares back at you with tears in her eyes, and a distressed look on her face. “Jae?” You say softly. “What’s wrong?”

“Unnie…” she trails off, her voice getting gradually louder. “You scared me!” She lunges forward, holding onto you like a koala bear while she sobs.

“Wha–”

“When you got kidnapped I was so scared! I really thought I’d never see you again.” She practically wails.

You look up from your best friend’s figure, your eyes locking with the other girls. They all wear solemn expressions, either looking at the ground or staring at you hollowly. Your heart squeezes in your chest, the realization that you hadn’t seen your friends face to face since that day finally dawning on you.

For hours, they must have been waiting at home, terrified out of their minds, wondering if you were dead.

You pat Jae on the back, comforting her. “I’m so sorry I worried you all.”

“We felt like it was our fault,” Ryung speaks up, hanging her head. “If we hadn’t thrown that party, you wouldn’t have been kidnapped.”

“If I’d have just pummeled that creep when I got the chance–” Da-Eun clenches her fist.

“None of what happened was your fault.” You cut in, voice stern. “I agreed to go to the party, despite knowing it would be dangerous for me. It’s my fault.”

The girls seem to perk up at your words, but only slightly.

“And Da-Eun, if you’d punched Seong, you probably would have ended up being taken hostage like me, or worse.” You point out. “Now stop commiserating and eat the breakfast I made for you.”

The girls reluctantly listen to you, all of them choosing a seat before thanking you for the food once again and digging in. Conversation flows easily after that, the topic of Seong and your kidnapping left far behind. Instead, you talk about lighter subjects, like what the girls had been up to while you recovered.

Once you all top off your breakfast, you walk your plates over to the kitchen and place them in the sink to clean them.

“Ms. Lee, would you like me to wash the dishes for you?” The head cook pops out of the kitchen, standing in front of you with his hands behind his back.

“Oh, it’s alright, we should do it.” You say, the girls behind you letting out murmurs of agreement as well.

The cook once again looks surprised but nods, ducking back into the kitchen as you begin cleaning.

"Ms. Lee, huh?" Jae playfully bumps your hip.

You let out a long sigh while chuckling. "I haven't gotten used to it yet."

"Well, you'd better because, in a matter of months, you'll be Mrs. Lee, the wife of the most powerful mafia boss in Seoul." Jae looks up at the sky, a giddy grin on her face.

"When is the wedding, by the way?" Min-Ji asks.

"Ah, we still haven't decided on a date yet," you mumble, having finished cleaning your plate, "but I think sometime in December."

"Oh, winter." Da-Eun nods.

"That’s a beautiful time to get married," Ryung comments.

"You know,” Jae begins. “I always thought Min-Ji would be the first of us to marry,"

"Really?" Min-Ji looks around at you all, a flush painting the apples of her cheeks.

"Well, you've had a boyfriend for what," Da-Eun starts flipping up her fingers, counting. "five years now?"

"Jung-Hoon will make a good husband," Jae remarks.

"Why are you all speaking as if we're already engaged?" Min-Ji blubbers, clearly embarrassed. "We still have a few years before we should start thinking about marriage."

"Yes, you do, Min." You call your friend by her nickname, lightly nudging Da-Eun and Jae in their sides. "You don't have to get married early like I am. It's all on your time."

With your last assertion hanging in the air, you and the girls finish cleaning up before heading toward the infinity pool on the second level of the mansion. The excitement rises between your friends the moment you step onto the terrace, their expressions starstruck at the clear water rippling against the opal tiles at the bottom of the pool.

They hurry over to the pool chairs, set down their bags, and strip their clothes off, leaving them in the swimsuits they had underneath.

"The water's so beautiful." Ryung approaches the pool, dipping her fingers into the water. "Do you go swimming often?" She asks you.

"Yes," you answer while taking off your clothing, your swimsuit catching the morning light. "It's very relaxing on warm days like this."

"I would kill to have a pool this big." Jae grabs your hands, walking you over to the steps of the pool where your friends wait for you.

You all tread in, the water fresh as it cradles the skin of your legs and chest, making you let out a content sigh. There's nothing quite like taking a dip during stifling heat.

As it turns out, wearing a suit during one of the hottest days of the week wasn't Bada's brightest idea. The black-tinted window in her office only manages to absorb some of the sun's unrelenting heat, leaving Bada still sweating in her clothing, huffs of annoyance escaping her mouth every few minutes.

"Ugh," she groans, pushing her work away and sitting back in her chair. She spreads her legs, finding her calves unnaturally stiff—hours of sitting will do that to you, she supposes. Standing up reluctantly, Bada immediately removes her tie and suit jacket, as well as undoes the first few buttons of her dress shirt.

She fans herself with one hand, the other reaching down to grab a glass of water she'd been given with her breakfast. She chugs the liquid down in seconds, sighing when she's finished.

Steeling herself, Bada moves to sit down again but finds her legs still stiff and grunts in mild pain. So she decides not to sit down, and instead paces around her office. She loops about five times before she grows agitated and walks towards the door. She'd been working for five hours, pouring through the ceiling-high proposal documents from another group and was frankly going stir-crazy from staring at the papers.

She opens the door and leaves her office, trudging down the hallway without a destination in mind. That is, until the sound of lively chatter reaches her ears, making her pause and look around with a confused expression. She follows the noises, worry and curiosity itching at the back of her mind.

She finds the source on the second-floor terrace and pauses at the entrance, half of her body hidden in the shadows. Her eyes snap over to the unknown women swimming in her pool, the confusion in her mind only doubling. But then she sees you speaking to them casually, a bright smile on your face as you splash water at the women, all of them retaliating back and causing a water fight.

Then, it clicks in her mind. Today is the day her friends were to come over, Bada thinks. She mentally berates herself for forgetting about it—too caught up in her piles of work to remember. Before she can linger on the thought for too long, your friend's chatter dies down into a calm conversation. Bada steps back from the entryway quickly, her back laying flat against wall. She knows she give you your privacy, but despite her better judgment, she stays rooted in her spot, listening.

"This is so nice," Da-Eun mutters with a smile, relaxing so she's floating at the water's surface.

"So," Min-Ji swims closer to you. "What have you been doing all this time?"

"Not much," you admit. "Just... recovering. I had a pretty nasty bruise on my cheek. It just finished healing."

"Just finished healing?" Ryung frowns.

"But that was a while ago..." Jae adds.

"Seong had a heavy hand," you mumble, causing little ripples in the water by swishing your fingers back and forth.

Away from your view, Bada rests her head against the wall, her eyes staring up at the ceiling as images of your injury flash in her mind. She feels a pit form in her stomach at the memory, as well as a fire burning in her veins. Although she knows Seong is already long dead, it doesn’t stop the deep hatred in her heart from festering.

"At least it healed well," Min-Ji nods, pointing her finger at your skin, which is now free of discoloration.

"Yeah," you ghost your fingers across the skin of your left cheek, remembering how swollen it had been, as well as painted with yellow and purple hues.

Jae watches your movements closely, sympathy in her irises until she realizes something, and her eyebrows furrow. "Wait..." She reaches over and grabs your hand, holding it up to the sun. "Where's your ring?"

You give her a confused look. "What ring?"

"Your engagement ring," Jae says, looking at you expectantly.

Bada freezes in her spot, a feeling akin to a cold bucket of water being dumped over her head washing through her body. A ring.

 How could she be so stupid? She never presented you with an engagement ring (not to mention she hadn’t bought one in the first place), although you're both several months into your engagement. If her mother were alive, she'd scold her for her lack of manners and for being inconsiderate of your wants—what most women want more than anything—a beautiful and heartfelt piece of jewelry that encapsulates their spouse's devotion and feelings.

"Oh..." you trail off before Jae’s words fully register in your mind. "Oh. I don't have one."

"You don't have an engagement ring?" All the girls blurt out at once, their expressions a mix between shock and horror.

“I guess we never really got around to it.” You stare down at your empty ring finger, not exactly knowing how to feel. You hadn’t even realized that Bada never presented you a ring.

“Never got around to it?” Jae’s mouth drops. “How do you ‘never get around’ to getting your engagement ring?”

“I’m surprised you don’t have a rock the size of Seoul on your finger.” Da-Eun remarks, shaking her head.

“We’ve been very busy–” you try to explain.

“But it’s a ring.” Jae asserts.

You say nothing in response, lips pressing into a line and eyebrows crinkling.

The resounding silence marinating in the air makes Bada’s stomach drop. You must think of  her as an inconsiderate fiancée.

She berates herself in her mind as she speed-walks away, determined to make up for her oversight.

She’ll find you a ring befitting of your beauty.

Bada quickly realizes that finding the perfect engagement ring for you is more challenging than she initially thought. She's scrolled through countless websites of high-end jewelers, observing the sparkle of gold, white gold, silver – every type of finery imaginable. However, every ring she inspects falls short.

"Too gaudy," she thinks as she scans a ring with a disproportionately large diamond and a small band. "Too simple," her eyes scrutinize another ring, containing the smallest diamond she’s ever seen, with an equally bland and thin band.

In frustration, Bada pushes away her laptop, pulling her glasses onto her head and rubbing her eyes. "Why are engagement rings so hit or miss?" she asks the open air, as if expecting an answer.

Funnily enough, she does get a response. "Engagement rings?" Tatter steps into Bada’s office, carrying a large stack of paperwork.

"Tatter, if you are about to hand me another day’s work of documents, I might just lose my mind," Bada groans.

"I’m not handing it to you," Tatter says sheepishly, "I’m placing it on your desk."

Bada only groans louder, dropping her head onto the desk and lightly banging it against the wood repeatedly. "Boss…" Tatter trails off, grimacing. "You’re making me feel bad."

"Good," Bada huffs. "You should feel bad for me."

"Why are you so stressed out?" Tatter sets the papers down before stepping back.

"The ring," Bada rasps.

"What ring?" Tatter asks, her face skewed up in absolute confusion.

"The engagement ring. The one I never gave to my fiancée."

"You never gave unnie a ring?" Tatter says incredulously.

"No," Bada hollowly laments. "Now I’m trying to find a ring for her, but none of them are suitable."

"Can I see?" Tatter asks, motioning toward her boss’s laptop. Bada pushes her laptop in Tatter’s direction, showing her subordinate the screen. Tatter scans the images of the rings, pressing her lips together in thought. "This one’s nice." She points at a ring with a diamond in the middle, and two smaller diamonds next to it, resting on a thin, gold band.

Bada looks at the ring, her eyebrows furrowing. "I guess. But it’s nothing special. Her ring has to be special–"

"You know, rather than stressing out about it, why don’t you just find out what types of rings she likes?" Tatter cuts her off.

"And how do you suggest I do that?" Bada asks monotonously.

"Reconnaissance," Tatter smirks. "And I know just the perfect people for the job."

Bada picks up her head, staring at her subordinate with a wry expression – not quite sure if she should be worried or relieved.

The following day rolls around, the heat from yesterday having subsided into a comfortable chill.

"Hey kid, are you ready to go?" Hyo steps into your bedroom, her hands in her pockets as she watches you finish getting ready.

"Yes," you nod, voice quiet.

Your bodyguard frowns, stepping forward. "What’s with the sad look?"

You glance at Hyo, shaking your head. "I just have a lot on my mind. Sorry."

"It’s okay." Hyo places her hand on your shoulder. She guides you toward the doorway, but not before discreetly pulling out her phone and snapping a picture of your open jewelry box, your rings on full display.

"Why are we going out again?" You look back at Hyo, a dazed look on your face.

"You said you wanted to go for a walk and see the shops, remember?" She reminds you, tucking her phone back into her pocket.

"Oh, right." You nod, perking up a bit. "My mother asked me to pick up something for her at a store."

"Why doesn’t she pick it up herself?" Hyo steps up behind you, following as you begin your strides down the hallway and toward the spiral staircase leading to the first level.

"She’s packing for a trip." You sigh, "Can’t be bothered to leave her home for a second to pick up her designer dress."

"If you’ll let me speak a bit out of line…" Hyo trails off, her words pitching upward in a half-question.

"Yes, of course." You answer quickly. "We’re friends."

"...Your mother is quite the character." Your bodyguard asserts while digging out her phone from her pocket. She unlocks it while staying behind you and out of your line of sight, opening the picture she took of your jewelry box and sending it to Lusher.

She quickly types out, “Here it is,” with the picture attached to the message.

Seconds later, a gray bubble pops up, and Lusher responds. "Great, thanks!"

Hyo hastily sends another message, “We’d better get the ring ASAP. She’s been acting sad since yesterday…”

This time Lusher takes a few more minutes to respond, "Got it. Also, make sure to bring her to the right stores. Boss and I will be right behind you, so make sure to keep her distracted as much as possible."

Hyo texts back a thumbs-up emoji before closing her phone. 

"Character is an understatement." Your voice makes Hyo straighten up immediately.

"That’s the kindest way of expressing what I think about your mother. You are my boss, after all." Hyo points out, shoving her hands into her pockets causally.

"I’m not your boss." You say, turning back to glance at her with furrowed eyebrows. "Bada is."

"She’s ‘the Boss,’ but you’re my boss," Hyo explains. "She’s my employer, but my job is to watch over you when she can’t. You’re my superior."

"I don’t like how that sounds." You frown. "Can’t we just consider each other friends rather than deal with the semantics of superiors and subordinates?"

"If that would make you more comfortable." Hyo shrugs. “Anyway, what’s your mother packing for?”

"Her annual trip to Calivigny Island with my father," you sigh.

"Ah, in the Caribbean," your bodyguard whistles. "A private, luxury island that only accommodates fifty guests at a time."

"She usually travels during the summer, but she missed the trip earlier because she and my father were finalizing the deal between Bada and my proposal."

"Tragic," Hyo remarks sarcastically.

"Isn’t it?" you respond, a smile quirking up your lips as you finally reach the stairs and begin heading downwards. You quickly venture down them and out of the Lee mansion while Hyo heads to the garage, taking out your usual black sports car and parking it in front of the perron steps for you. She helps you in, closing the door behind you before pulling out of the driveway of the mansion and heading out of the open gates.

The doors of Louis Vuitton glitter in the darkening horizon like a beacon of illumination meant to attract wanderers in the chilly night. And like a moth infatuated with the light, you step in front of the doors, your eyebrows creased together.

“I don’t know why I feel so nervous,” you mutter under your breath.

“Hold your head up high, kid.” Hyo grabs the heavy handle of the door, using her strength to crack it open. “You have more power and influence than anyone inside that store.”

You take in a deep breath and nod, stepping into the store, a small draft of warm air caressing you like a friendly hug. Inside, a whirl of earthy perfume paired with notes of vanilla, makes its way to your senses. All the decorations are painted with a yellow and beige light, the bags hanging from shelves are highlighted like jewels.

And like a newly cut diamond, you remain unseen for only a second before the older jewels notice your radiance, their eyes finding yours instantly. Women and men in their most elegant and finest clothing appraise you, their irises barely swooping over you before they widen to impossible sizes. They start to whisper amongst each other, your appearance surprising them and causing their eyes to glitter with excitement.

You stride forward, remembering Hyo’s advice as you approach a saleswoman–who is notably frozen in her spot when she notices you coming toward them–before someone steps in your path.

A man carrying a tray with a single bottle of sparkling water stands in front of you, his eyes glistening under the light, and a friendly smile stretching across his lips. “Would you like a drink?”

“Oh–” you breathe out, surprised. “Yes, thank you very much.” You take the water bottle, and suddenly the man is out of your view, circling around you and grabbing the coat keeping you slightly hot in the already warm store.

“Allow me to hang your coat,” he mumbles, tucking the tray under his arm as he gently uses his gloved hands to pluck the clothing off of you.

You look back at the man with a slightly dazed expression but smile. “Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure.” He bows in front of you before exchanging a brief nod with Hyo and stepping back.

You gather your bearings quickly and walk up to the saleswoman, slightly clearing your throat as you hear the giddy whispering from the shoppers increase. “I’m here to pick up an order.”

The saleswoman seems to have gathered herself in the time her co-worker had taken your coat and offered you the sparkling water because now she’s standing straight and has a semi-nervous smile strewn across her lips. “Yes, of course. I can take you to a private room if you’d like.” She gestures to a room concealed by a curtain carrying the “LV” logo.

“Oh no, that’s alright,” you wave a hand in dismissal. “I’m just here to pick up an order, I won’t be staying long.”

“Please, it might take a while for us to find the order.” The saleswoman insists. “You can relax and enjoy some refreshments while we fetch it.”

You glance at Hyo from your peripheral, who looks like she’s trying her hardest to hold in a laugh. Internally rolling your eyes at her, you nod at the saleswoman. “Alright. Thank you.”

“This way, please,” she guides you toward the secluded room, holding back the curtains for you and Hyo to step in.

Inside, there is a glass coffee table, a large ceramic vase sitting at the center of it with white club chairs circling it. Behind, there is a lit wall with water beading down it, and a large mirror across from it.

You move to sit in the chair, but Hyo’s fast, pulling out your seat for you, an amused smile still stretched on her lips. You give her a light glare but mumble a “thank you” nonetheless.

The saleswoman, who’d stepped out for a second without you even realizing it, emerges again, though this time she’s carrying a golden tray like the man from before with refreshments and towels.

“Would you like a hot towel?” She holds it out for you using prongs.

“Sure.” You say hesitantly, grabbing the towel and feeling its warmth awaken your (somehow still) cold fingers.

The woman sets down the tray on the coffee table, presenting you with small cakes and snacks. “Please, take whatever you’d like, and let me know if you need anything else.”

You nod back, glancing at the delicious slices of cake with an edacious stare.

“And what name would your order be under?” The saleswoman asks.

You mutter your mother’s name, and the worker quickly nods, bows, then leaves the room. The second she’s out of sight, you hear a chuckle come from behind you, causing you to whip your head around with a glare.

Hyo covers her mouth with her hand, as she laughs.

“You’re evil, you know that?” You huff.

“Sorry, it’s really just so funny.” Hyo can’t hold back her laughter anymore, essentially all-out laughing at you. “You looked like a deer in headlights.”

“Because I was!” You exclaim. “I just wanted to pick up my mother’s order; why are they doing all this?” You gesture to the room in front of you.

“I told you,” Hyo briefly takes off her sunglasses to wipe away the small tears of laughter from the corner of her eyes. “You have more power than anyone in here. Of course they’re going to be kiss-ups.”

You sigh loudly, sitting back in your chair. “One order, that’s all I wanted… now I feel like they’re going to make me stay longer.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised.” Hyo agrees. “Just say in the nicest way possible that you want to leave, and they’ll let you.”

“You know, the least you could do is help me out.” You scoff lightheartedly. “I’m still new to this stuff.”

“I could do that…” Hyo nods while trailing off. “Or I could watch you struggle. It’s much funnier.” She bursts into a small chuckle at the end of the sentence.

“I hate you.” You groan.

“Oh come on, lighten up.” Hyo finally stops laughing, but her smile never leaves her. “Why don’t you try some of the snacks she gave you?”

You perk up at the thought, casting your eyes back on the tea cakes and tiny, but expensive-looking foods. You pick up what looks like a small slice of strawberry shortcake and eat it, the creamy filling and delicious jam making you smile widely. When you finish chewing–it takes less than a minute–you hold up the tray for Hyo to see. “Do you want some?”

“Nah, I’m good.” She shakes her head.

You move to place the tray down before she suddenly speaks again.

“Wait. Is there any chocolate cake…?”

Your trip to Louis Vuitton ended up yielding many revelations. Number one, Louis Vuitton has to be the worst case of sucking up that you’ve ever seen or experienced, and number two, Hyo is absolutely obsessed with anything chocolate flavored.

“How many free products do you think are in those bags?” You turn to look back at Hyo, who’s juggling three large Louis Vuitton bags in her arms–one of them your mother’s order and the rest filled with gifts–while trying to take a bite of the chocolate decorations she’d taken off of a cake.

“Too many to count.” She says, voice slightly muffled by the food in her mouth.

You laugh before turning back and walking down the sidewalk, passing by other high-end stores. You continue walking for a long stretch until you register the sound of heavy footsteps not too far away from you. You furrow your eyebrows; Hyo never walks with a heavy step.

You pause, “Hyo, what’s that sound?”

“What sound?” Hyo stops as well.

“Footsteps…” you trail off, looking from your left to your right, then behind. You don’t see anyone else trailing after you, your confusion doubling. Perhaps it was just your paranoia manifesting into phantom noises.

Hyo immediately snaps into professional mode, looking back as well. She reaches under her suit and feels for her gun holster, stepping forward. “Stay back a little, I’m going to check it out.” She advances quickly, her eyes scanning the area with calculating expertise.

When she reaches the corner of a store and an alleyway, she quickly turns into it, her gun held up.

Through the darkness of the night, Hyo is just barely able to make out the shocked faces of her Boss, and Lusher crouched next to the side of the building. “Boss?” Hyo whispers loudly, looking between Bada and Lusher.

“What are you doing?” Lusher whisper-yells back. “You’re supposed to be taking unnie into a jewelry store!”

“I would be if you weren’t stomping your feet behind us so loudly!” Hyo shoots back, lightly glaring at her friend.

“Yah, I told you to be quieter.” Bada scolds Lusher, nudging her arm. “You walk like you’re carrying one hundred pounds of extra weight.”

“Why are you two ganging up on me?” Lusher whines. “I’ll try to be more quiet–”

“Hyo?” Your voice breaks through the chilly night air, causing the three women to stiffen up. “Is everything alright?”

“Yup, yes!” Hyo steps out of the alleyway with a forced smile, giving you a thumbs-up. “Everything’s perfect! It was just some drunk stumbling around.”

You give Hyo a hesitant look before nodding and turning to stare at the passersby across the street.

She quickly ducks back into the alleyway, tucking her gun back into its holster. “Lusher, if you want to keep following us, either lighten your step or stay farther back.”

“Okay, I will.” Lusher pouts, receiving another nudge from Bada.

Your fiancée looks Hyo up and down, noticing the Louis Vuitton bags hanging from her arms. “You’re carrying her bags. Good.”

Hyo smiles widely. “Thanks, Boss.”

“Did the trip go smoothly?”

“Yes, she was a bit out of her depth at first, but she handled all the attention well,” Hyo reports back like a proud sister.

Bada smiles to herself, thinking about you awkwardly speaking to the workers in the Louis Vuitton store, not used to being attended to like a high-ranking socialite. Everything you do is endearing to her–she only wishes she was there to see you sparkling amongst snobbish shoppers. “That’s my girl.” She whispers to herself.

Hyo and Lusher barely catch what Bada said, but in response, they both look at each other knowingly and smile.

“Alright, don’t keep her waiting.” Bada cuts in, shifting her demeanor back to cold. “And make sure she stays warm.”

“Yes, Boss.” Hyo nods then steps out of the alleyway, approaching you with fast strides. “Sorry, I took so long.”

“It’s alright.” You shrug. “I was just doing some people-watching while I waited.”

“Right, well, the car is this way.” Hyo motions forward, only briefly glancing back to see Lusher and Bada’s head peeking out from the corner of the store.

You walk forward without a second thought, your head up in the clouds as you take in the beautiful starry sky, and the cloud of perspiration released when you exhale into the icy air. You walk in silence for the length of a block before Hyo breaks the silence.

“Oh, look, a jewelry store.” She tries to say casually as she stops right in front of it. “All of the pieces are beautiful.”

You pause where you stand, turning to face the store, a pit in your stomach growing. Your bodyguard is right, all the jewelry is beautiful. From teardrop diamond earrings to pearl necklaces and dainty bracelets.

But all you can look at are the rings.

The sign above them reads, “Two hearts, one love, forever in your ring.” You turn away from the store, a lump in your throat and a frown on your lips. Clearing your throat, you mumble. “Should we keep walking toward the car?”

Hyo glances to her right again, seeing Bada and Lusher motioning frantically at her to get you to go inside. “Uhhm, don’t you want to look at the pretty jewelry? Maybe pick something up for yourself?” She suggests.

“No–” You begin, but are cut off by a loud sound.

“Ow!” Lusher’s voice rings from behind the store, her hand rubbing at her foot. “You stepped on me–”

Bada slaps her hand over Lusher’s mouth, her eyes wide and her pointer finger coming up to make a “shush” motion. Lusher immediately calms down, suddenly realizing her mistake and wearing a mortified expression.

“What was that?” You take a step forward, about to head toward the sound before Hyo stands in your way.

“Probably just another drunk.” She says quickly. “No need to worry.”

You try to look over her shoulder, but she carefully pushes you forward and in the direction of the jewelry store. “Okay…”

“Well why don’t we go inside the jewelry store–”

“Actually, can we go home?” You ask, avoiding eye contact with the store and stepping back.

Hyo’s smile starts to twitch. “Come on, maybe just a peek–”

“Please.” You interrupt quietly, looking down at the floor.

Hyo sees out of her peripheral that Bada’s shaking her head and frowning, so she sighs and nods. “Alright, let’s go home.”

You turn and walk away quickly, eager to escape the thoughts plaguing your mind. Your bodyguard follows after you, having failed her mission terribly. Behind you, both Lusher and Bada step onto the sidewalk, the subordinate clutching her head in distress.

“She didn’t even look at the rings!” Lusher exclaims, deflated and looking dejected.

Bada remains quiet, watching you walk down the street, the wind whipping her coat around. “Something’s wrong.”

“Yeah, clearly! We’ll never find a ring for her at this rate,” Lusher says, expressing her frustration.

“No, I mean,” Bada pauses, placing her hand over the right side of her chest. “My heart. It hurts when I see her sad.”

Lusher stops whining, facing her boss with a caring expression. “What does it feel like?”

“It feels like I’m getting stabbed,” Bada admits, her face scrunching up in confusion and pain. “I want to rip my heart out and give it to her. I want to do everything in my power to make her smile when she frowns like that.”

Lusher lets out a deep sigh, sympathizing with her friend. “Oh, Bada…”

“I felt like this when she was taken by Seong,” Bada whispers. “But back then, I thought it was because I was worried about bringing her home safe.” She turns to face her subordinate, clutching her chest tightly. “Why do I feel like this?”

Lusher smiles sadly at her friend. “You’re in love.”

“...In love?”

Love was not the answer, she concluded. No, love could never be the answer. Since you first arrived at her home, Bada made it clear to you that she’d never fall in love with you. So the mental and emotional anguish she’s been feeling for the past few days must have been due to the stress of her work… right?

Either way, whether it was unconsciously or consciously at first, Bada started to avoid you. She found that seeing you less would make the stabbing pain in her heart subside, and even if it didn’t fully fade away, throwing herself into her work was a perfect distraction.

But it wasn’t easy. Obviously, you began to notice that your already few-and-far-between visits from Bada became essentially nonexistent. So naturally, you started to make an effort to see her. You tried to bring her breakfast in the morning like you had during your first month in the Lee mansion but hit a wall.

“The Boss will be taking her breakfast alone from now on,” Lusher informs you, trying to hold back her frown when she sees the excitement in your eyes dim, and how you practically wilt.

“How long?” You whisper.

“For the foreseeable future,” Lusher says through gritted teeth. It’s taking everything in her to not just let you into Bada’s office. But at the end of the day, nothing is stronger than Bebe’s loyalty.

“Oh,” you take a step back, trying to wear a friendly smile but failing. “I’ll come see her later, then.”

Lusher hesitates. “Not to speak out of line, unnie…”

You perk up, looking into her eyes.

“But I think it’s best for your emotional state if you keep your distance,” she advises you, her tone gentle and full of care.

But of course, being the determined and stubborn woman you are, you don’t heed Lusher’s words… to your detriment.

After days of only traveling between her office and her bedroom, Bada finally emerges from her work, having signed and looked over all the documents she’d been given for the week. In her desperation for a change in scenery, she left her office, completely forgetting why she’d been hiding away in the first place.

“Bada!” You call from behind her, a smile stretching across your lips.

The sound of your voice makes Bada freeze. The pain in her heart spikes, and a wave of regret flows through her. She doesn’t respond to you but stays rooted in her spot.

You run to your fiancée’s side, making quick eye contact with her. But the look she wears surprises you. Her dark brown, almost gray irises stare back at you like an impenetrable stone wall, hiding away any emotion she may be feeling.

For the first time in her life, Bada feels like she’s able to successfully hide her emotions. Because hearing your voice and seeing you makes every fiber of her body come to life. Perhaps it's because it’s been so long since she’s seen you.

The days she’d spent locked inside her office or bedroom made the sight of you even more irresistible. Your eyes, which she hadn’t met in what felt like decades shine under the light with an endearing gleam. Your body, which she hadn’t touched makes her fingers twitch, every digit aching to caress any and all of your flesh. Your lips…

Bada has to use all her willpower to stop herself from wrapping her arms around you and kissing you. The yearning her body has to embrace you and touch you drives her mad.

“Lusher was right.” Is all she can think.

…The realization disgusts her.

How could she be so selfish? How could she fall in love with you knowing full well all the torment and danger her feelings will bring you? How could she allow herself to fall victim to your every smile and caring saccharine phrases? How could she when she knows that she may end up laying in the street, sobbing, holding your cold body in her arms while you stare up at her, the light gone from your eyes, and crimson falling from your chest?

Your smile starts to slowly wither, a slightly timid expression encompassing your face. “Bada?” You mumble. “You finally came out of your office.”

A deathly silence echoes in the hallway, not a sound leaving Bada’s lips. She only moves her gaze away from you, instead staring straight in front of her.

“Uhm, I was going to ask you if we could maybe spend some time together?” Your voice comes out low, nervous, and like you’re unsure of yourself.

Again, that nasty tugging on Bada’s heart hits her, but this time she reacts to it by closing her eyes and breathing out through her nose. For her, it’s a method of calming herself down.

But to you, it relays a sense of annoyance you assume she’s feeling.

Once again she doesn’t answer you, making you shift uncomfortably in your spot. You stare at her with pleading eyes, begging her to say anything to you. Even just letting you know that she’s listening to you, and not acting like you’re a pesky fly on the wall, buzzing in her ear.

“I have work to do.” Finally, when she speaks, her tone is clipped, and full of ice.

You physically react, your limbs shaking at her phantom frost. Before you can even open your mouth again, Bada turns and walks in the opposite direction towards her office.

You’re left in the hallway, stunned and wondering if Bada was aware of the trail of heartbreak she’d left in her wake.

And yet despite everything, you keep trying to get through to Bada.

You try because you care. You try because no matter how hard you remind yourself that your union to her was just business, you can’t stop yourself from falling in love with her.

She saved you from your parents, after all. She gave you a home that you could call yours–she introduced you to the Bebe girls, who you now considered your close friends. She brought you into a world of glitz and glamor, while still protecting you and watching over you with the utmost care.

How could you not fall in love with her?

So, with a world of fluttering butterflies nesting in the depths of your stomach, you take in a deep breath and knock on her office door. When you pull your fist away from the wood, you’re met with an uncomfortable silence. Swaying nervously, you play with your fingers, waiting another minute before mustering the courage to knock again.

This time, a small sound emanates from inside, perhaps a loud inhalation or the sound of an annoyed breath. Your stomach turns at the thought.

When you withdraw your fist from the wood, an uncomfortable silence engulfs the space. Swaying nervously, you toy with your fingers, mustering the courage to knock again after waiting another minute.

This time, a faint sound emanates from within, perhaps a pronounced inhalation or an exasperated breath. Your stomach churns at the notion.

"Who is it?" Bada's frosty voice compels you to stand tall, the butterflies in your belly fluttering wildly, creating a tempest.

“It’s me,” you speak cautiously.

For what feels like the millionth time, a hush falls between you and Bada.

“...I’m busy,” is all she utters in response.

You close your eyes and gulp, uncertain of your next move. On one hand, you don’t want to disturb Bada, especially when she sounds visibly irritated. On the other hand, the yearning to see your fiancée again is overpowering. Being separated from her renders the hallways of the Lee mansion colder, your life dimmer, and the world slower in its spin.

“Bada…” you trail off, your voice low and caring. “I haven’t spoken to you properly in days.”

This time, there's little dead air before a chair scrapes against the floor, and her footsteps approach the door. Surprised, you take a step back just before she opens the door, keeping it ajar so you can see her but not enter her office.

“I told you, I’m busy,” she says plainly, her gaze avoiding yours.

Your eyebrows furrow as you try to meet her eyes. “You should take a break; you've been working nonstop for days now.”

“I have to,” Bada defends her actions.

“I understand that,” you nod slowly, acknowledging the stress she must be under. “But it’s not good for your health.”

Truthfully, you didn’t want to say it aloud, but Bada looks exhausted. Bags and dark circles under her eyes, absent before, now paint a picture of fatigue. Moreover, the expression she wears hints at an imminent collapse.

“You should take a nap, or if you really don’t want to rest, we can relax and watch this drama together–” you start to grow excited at the idea, a smile forming on your lips.

Meanwhile, Bada confronts a dilemma. She acknowledges her love for you, plain and simple. She wants to eschew work, opting to watch a drama with you, to hold you close and sleep with the comforting weight of your presence. Yet, her mind brands her feelings as selfish, a slow-acting poison disguised in sweet wine—pleasurable until it brings forth your demise.

“You expect too much of me,” Bada says through gritted teeth, spitting the words out with venom that extinguishes the small smile you’d nurtured.

“What?” You breathe, confusion clouding your expression.

“You ask me to spend time with you, you want us to watch a drama together,” she lists. “These affections you are asking of me–” She cuts herself off, shaking her head with a bored expression. “It is inappropriate. We are not a couple.”

In just a few words, Bada annihilates your world. The meticulously crafted memories of your time with your fiancée crumble, collapsing under the weight of her words. "We are not a couple." The phrase echoes in your mind, torturing you until your ears ring.

You visibly flounder, opening and closing your mouth in genuine shock. “Where is this coming from?” You ask incredulously.

“I told you I would not fall in love with you,” Bada argues. “Our union was a tactical business move that benefitted me and your parents, that is all. You are nothing more to me.”

As if your heart could shatter further, it bleeds in your chest, oozes crimson red, and cries out to be spared. For a brief moment, you're left so shell-shocked that you almost lose all sense of self. Rooted in your spot, you stare into Bada’s eyes as every part of your body pulsates with insurmountable pain.

“We don’t act like we’re in a marriage of convenience,” you fight back, words a hushed and hurt whisper.

She doesn’t respond, simply looks ahead, acknowledging the truth. She hasn’t treated you as a friend for months, let alone an acquaintance for longer.

“Bada. Look at me,” you order, your voice gaining slight confidence.

Slowly, Bada shifts her gaze to meet yours. In her dark brown irises, a storm rages—a tempest of unspoken feelings concealed behind a sheet of ice. Staring into Bada’s eyes, you shake your head with a hurt expression. The woman in front of you is unrecognizable. She doesn’t resemble your fiancée and the woman you fell in love with; she's a shadow, an imitation.

"Who are you?" Your eyes question Bada.

“I don’t know,” her eyes confess.

You take a step back from Bada, tears welling in your eyes. “You are cruel, Bada Lee.” Without uttering another word, you turn and rush away, almost colliding with Lusher, standing around the corner with Tatter by her side.

Lusher watches you leave with a disapproving look. She glances at Bada, who stands stock-still, appearing as if she’d been stabbed in the heart.

Her boss makes eye contact with her. “What? Aren’t you going to tell me off?” Bada says harshly.

Lusher only shakes her head disapprovingly, looking away from her friend.

Bada scoffs, clicking her tongue as she brushes past Lusher and Tatter, heading toward the stairs and the door to the Lee mansion.

Tatter takes a step forward, a worried look on her face. “Shouldn’t we go after them?”

Lusher holds her arm out to stop Tatter from walking ahead. “It isn’t our place,” she says softly. “It’s time for Bada to face her past.”

Blown glass casts colored shadows across Bada’s fair skin. Her grim expression contrasts with the bright colors, and the bouquet of sunflowers clutched between her fingers adds a touch of vibrancy. In front of her, a gold placard engraved with her mother’s name stares back at her.

“Hello, mother,” Bada murmurs into the open air. “I’m sorry; it’s been a while since I’ve visited you. I’ve been busy.” She shifts her gaze to the floor. “I met a woman.” She utters your name with reverence, “You would have loved her.”

She closes her eyes, envisioning your lively and beautiful countenance.

“You’ll be surprised to hear that I'm engaged to her now. We are to be wed in December.”

“You are cruel, Bada Lee.” Her mind echoes your words, and she opens her eyes.

“Well, perhaps not anymore,” Bada steps forward, exchanging the wilting flowers beside her mother’s grave with a new bouquet. The bright yellow sunflowers pop next to the gold, infusing the room with more color. “She made me feel strange emotions,” Bada confesses.

She thinks back to the first time she had a proper conversation with you. You’d come into her office and brought her breakfast, standing tall and confident as you poked and prodded, asking questions about her.

“When she’s happy, I’m at peace,” Bada reflects. Her thoughts then shift to Seong. “When she was taken from me, I was infuriated.” Her fingers unconsciously curl into a fist. She places her hand over her heart, feeling it beat wildly against her palm.

Her heart sings for you, no matter where she might be.

“But I know better.” Bada shakes her head. “I know better than to let myself care about her.” She thinks of the way she’d spoken to you an hour prior–how she’d lied to you– “So I hurt her.” She says, her voice low and full of shame. “I said whatever I could think of to make her hate me.”

Outside, the wind whips violently, thrumming against the mausoleum.

“...Because loving me is a death wish.”

13 years ago 

A bright-eyed, 15-year-old Bada Lee steps out of her private school, her eyes scanning the myriad of luxury cars to find a silver Ferrari LaFerrari, the hypercar her bodyguard drives. Suddenly, the sound of a loud engine pulls up next to the curb of the school, right in front of where Bada stands.

“Ms. Lee.” Chung-Hee steps out of the car, a pair of black sunglasses covering his eyes. “Are you ready to go home?”

“Yes!” Bada nods excitedly, heading toward Chung-Hee. He quickly moves to grab her backpack before opening the car door, the silver sides of the car shooting up into the air like wings. “Thank you,” Bada says as she piles in, a wide smile on her face.

Chung-Hee simply nods as he sets her backpack in the front passenger seat before sitting in the driver’s spot. He pulls out of the driving lot with ease, heading away from the school. “How was your day today, Ms. Lee?”

“Very good.” Bada nods. “Actually, I was talking to some of my friends…”

“Seoyoung Lee, right?”

“Yes.” Bada smiles. “She and some others were talking about taking some dance classes after school–”

“Ms. Lee…” Chung-Hee sighs. “You are already very busy with your English and piano lessons, not to mention horseback riding and taekwondo–”

“I know that, Chung.” Bada huffs endearingly. “But this is something I really want to do, not just another hobby my father makes me take up so that I can find a husband.”

Chung-Hee lightly drums his fingers against the wheel. “You’ll have to ask both your father and your mother–”

“Yes, I know that.” Bada makes a cheeky expression. “That is why I’m going to speak to my mother right when we arrive home so that she can convince my father.”

“Ah, your mother is not currently home,” Chung-Hee informs her. “She is buying groceries for dinner tonight.”

“Then will you take me to her, please?” Bada begs, pitching her tone upwards.

“I was instructed to take you straight home–”

“Pleaseeee Chung?” Bada continues, staring through the rearview mirror so that her bodyguard can see her properly.

Chung-Hee sighs in defeat. “One of these days you’re going to get me fired.”

Bada squeals in excitement, practically bouncing in her seat. “You know that’s not true. My father considers you a close friend.”

“I guess I am lucky in that regard.” Chung-Hee breathes.

“Well, anyway…” Bada sits back, her smile never dimming. “How is your daughter, Chung?”

Immediately, Chung-Hee sits up in his seat, a bright grin overtaking his lips. “She’s great, thank you for asking. And she’s doing wonderfully in school.”

“You must be proud of her then.”

“Yes, I am,” Chung-Hee says fondly. “She’s so intelligent, it blows my mind.”

Bada smiles sadly as she nods.

“And she looks up to me. Says she wants to be just like me when she’s older.”

“She sounds wonderful, Chung,” Bada whispers.

The rest of the car ride continues in a comfortable silence, although Bada shifts her gaze to stare out of the window. She counts every passing minute, becoming more and more restless to see her mother.

Finally, the car eventually slows down across the street from a grocery store. Bada starts to grin, practically buzzing in her seat. Sensing her excitement, Chung-Hee parks the car and quickly exits, opening the door, only for Bada to practically shoot out of the car and rush over to the grocery store.

Chung-Hee only sighs. “Yah, one day she really is going to get me fired.”

Inside the grocery store, Bada barely pays attention to the way the shoppers gape at her, only intent on finding her mother. She uses her long legs to quickly make her way through the aisles until she spots a familiar head of hair near the fresh produce. Bada makes her way over to her mother, calling out to her.

“Mother!” She says, only a few feet away.

Bada’s mother immediately turns around, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion until she spots her daughter rushing toward her. “Bada?” She responds, a smile growing on her lips. “What are you doing here?”

Bada stops right in front of her mother, throwing her arms around her in a hug that the older woman immediately reciprocates. “Chung-Hee told me you weren’t home, so I asked him to drive me here.”

“And where is he now?” Bada’s mother scans the store, searching for a tall man wearing sunglasses.

“Oh…” Bada unwarps herself from her mother and then turns to look behind her, only now noticing her bodyguard is nowhere to be seen. “I must have left him behind.”

Her mother sighs and shakes her head disapprovingly. “Where are your manners, Bada? You have that poor man running after you all day.”

“Sorry,” Bada mumbles out half-sincerely. Her mother glances at her before gently patting her back, prompting her to continue walking. “Are you done shopping?”

“Yes, I have everything I need to make dinner tonight.” Her mother smiles.

“Why do you come to grocery stores anyway?” Bada asks. “The staff bring in fresh ingredients and foods every day.”

“They do, and while I appreciate all they do for us,” her mother walks over to the cash register, placing her groceries on the counter. “It’s important to never become lazy. As your mother and the woman of the house, it’s my responsibility to prepare you and your father’s dinner, even occasionally.”

Bada listens to her mother’s words carefully, nodding along in agreement. She watches her mother hand over a heavy golden credit card to the cashier, who is about to refuse the payment, but her mother’s bright smile and persistence makes him give in and take the card, charging her for the food.

“Besides, the staff deserve to rest every once and a while, don’t you think?” Bada’s mother continues.

“Yeah.” Bada remains in awe of her mother’s humility and kindness.

“What made you so eager to see me that you came all the way here, by the way?” She asks her daughter, helping the worker bag her groceries, despite his insistence that he should do it himself.

“Ah,” Bada suddenly smiles nervously, grabbing two of the heaviest bags to help her mother carry out of the grocery store. “Do you remember my friend Seoyoung?”

“Of course I do, she’s your oldest friend, isn’t she?”

Bada nods. “Well she and some of my other friends wanted to take some dance classes after school, and maybe join a dance club afterward–”

“I see.” Her mother nods. “So you came to ask me to convince your father to let you, is that right?”

Bada stares at her mother with a sheepish expression. “Yes.”

“I don’t know, Bada. Won’t you be much too tired after school? And don’t forget you have piano lessons right after–”

“I promise I can handle it.” She says with conviction. “I’ll do all my lessons and taekwondo every day even after dance.”

“You’ll be exhausted–”

“I won't,” Bada argues with a small pout. “Please, mother: I think dance is something I could be very good at.”

The older woman pauses, turning to look into her daughter’s eyes. She sees them shine with confidence and pure hope, which makes her smile. “Okay,” she nods. “I’ll speak to your father about it.”

“Yes!” Bada cheers, side-hugging her mother the best she can with her hands preoccupied. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

The older woman laughs, leaning into her daughter’s side. “Of course. If dancing is something you think you’ll enjoy, then I fully support you trying it out.”

That evening, under the warm Seoul sun, Bada experiences her last moments of pure happiness, unencumbered by worries or fear. She simply laughs with her mother, her heart bursting at the seams with love for the woman who cared for and nurtured her.

Her happiness blinds her to the moving figure across the street.

Ji-ah, Bada’s mother’s bodyguard has his head down as he crosses the street. Her mother smiles at him, greeting him again with a wave. But her eyes catch something, a glint of silver clutched in his right hand and almost completely concealed from her by his suit jacket. Her smile fades, confusion stretching across her face until she spots another man peering from the corner of a building, a nasty smirk on his face.

A blur of motion crosses Bada’s eyes before a loud popping sound fills the air.

The neighborhood falls into silence after, Bada jolting at the noise in shock. She looks around the street blearily, her mind still trying to catch up as her ears ring.

“Mo–” Before Bada can call out to her, the body of her mother falls into hers. They collapse in the street, grocery bags broken and food spilling out onto the concrete as Bada lets out a small huff of pain and surprise. She looks down, finding her mother splayed across her lap, a gunshot wound in her chest. “M-Mother?” Bada stutters in shock, her eyes growing wide in horror as she wraps her arms around her mother’s body.

In her daughter’s lap, Mrs. Lee breathes heavily, her eyes glazing over as pools of crimson fall from her chest, staining Bada’s hands bright red.

“No, no, no.” Bada breathes, placing her hand against her mother’s wound. “Ma… ma please stay awake.” She pleads, tears beginning to fall from her eyes as her heart pounds in her chest, a stabbing pain puncturing the organ. 

“Are you hurt?” Her mother barely manages to choke out, raising her pale hand to clutch the side of her daughter’s face.

“No.” Bada shakes her head, now fully sobbing.

A few feet away, Chung-Hee finally arrivies near the grocery store, having been held back by a group of men. He recognised them to be lackeys of a rival of Mr. Lee, and swung before they got the jump on him. He managed to beat them all to a pulp before rushing down the street, his mind racing with thoughts of Mrs. Lee and Bada being in potential danger.

Before he could make it to them he spots Ji-ah brandishing a gun, and holding it up in their direction. He fires without a second thought, hitting Mrs. Lee. 

Chung-Hee pulls out his gun quickly, shooting at Ji-ah across the street. He manages to hit him in the chest, then quickly fires again, emptying five more rounds into the traitor before Ji-ah falls to the concrete, dead.

Bada, unable to focus on the chaos around her only stares at her mother while sobbing, rocking back and forth. “Umma,” she cries, “Umma please, stay awake!”

Mrs. Lee only smiles, brushing her thumb against her daughter’s cheek. “You are beautiful.” She utters, her eyes filled with pure love and adoration. “I could not have asked for a kinder, gentler daughter.”

“Umma,” Bada closes her eyes, shaking her head as her tears grow hot, their salty liquid burning her cheeks.

“I love you.” Mrs. Lee whispers.

With the last of her strength gone, her eyes glaze over and her hand falls away from Bada’s cheek, hitting the concrete with a thud.

“No, umma!” Bada practically screams, clutching her mother’s body close to her chest as her frame starts to physically shake. “I love you too, please don’t leave me! Please, umma!”

Chung-Hee rushes over to Bada’s side, trying to separate her from her mother’s dead body. Bada only shoves him away, her eyes full of pure sorrow.

The sound of fast-approaching cars–her father’s men– just barely registers in Bada’s mind, reminding her of the shooter.

Bada shifts her gaze to the dead body across the street, her eyes going ice-cold at the sight of Ji-ah sprawled across the concrete.

Poison.

“Would you hate me for what I’ve done?” Bada speaks to her mother’s headstone. “For pushing her away?”

The wind thrashes against the windows.

“Because I do.” Bada admits.

The sunflowers next to her mother’s headstone quiver withthe breeze.

“I don’t know what to do with myself.” Bada places her hands over her eyes, feeling tears build inside them. “I should be happy that she hates me. I should be happy that she’ll stay away from me and be safe, but–”

The tears she’s been holding in finally break through. For what feels like the first time in 13 years, Bada Lee cries.

“I hate myself. I want to tear myself apart for all the things I said to her.” She confesses, sobbing. “I love her. I love her more than anything.”

The sunflowers shake.

“I want to be with her. I want to tell her that I love her. I want to spend the rest of my life with her.” Bada’s heart races in her chest as she heaves. She tears her hands away from her face so she can see her mother’s headstone. “I wish you were here to guide me–to tell me what to do–”

Suddenly, the violent winds from outside cause the door to the mausoleum to whip open, the strong breeze blows past Bada, swiping the tears from her cheeks and rushing toward the sunflowers. The sheer force of the wind sends flower petals into the air, making Bada stare up at them in shock.

Then, a memory comes rushing back to the forefront of her mind.

22 years ago

Six year old Bada races through the garden next to her father’s office, giggling at the small birds nesting in a tree above her. She tries to reach for them–but although being very tall for her age–she can’t touch the branch they reside on.

Bada tries to stretch her legs even further, standing on her tippytoes as she reaches her arms up–but she immediately loses her balance, making her wobble until she falls back.

Unfortunately, Bada’s excitement made her blind to the fact that just behind her lied a bushel of roses, their thorns giving her a painful greeting as her back and arms get caught on the spikes.

“Ouch!” She hisses, quickly removing herself from the flowers. She now has a few cuts and scrapes littering her arms, which makes tears rush to her eyes. She starts to sniffle, about to begin crying–

“Bada.” The sound of her mom’s voice distracts her, making the young girl look up.

“Umma.” Bada says tearrily.

“What happened?” Mrs. Lee rushes over to her daughter’s side, her eyes filled with worry as they take in the small cuts all over her arms.

“I fell into the–the thorns.” Bada hiccups, pointing at the offending flowers.

“Bada, I told you not to play near the roses.” Her mother softly scolds her, gently picking her daughter up and placing her in her lap.

“I’m sorry umma.” Bada sniffles, wiping her tears away with the palm of her hands.

“It’s alright, sweetheart.” Mrs. Lee looks over her daughter’s injuries. “Thankfull, none of the cuts are too deep, but I’ll clean them–”

Bada, now much less emotional, shifts her attention away from her mother, instead staring up to find the birds in the tree above them. They rub their beaks and heads against each other, their eyes closed as they rest in their nest.

“Umma.” Bada suddenly interrupts her mother.

Mrs. Lee pauses, noticing her daughter is looking upward, and glances up as well. “Yes?”

“What does being in love feel like?”

Her mother looks down at her in surprise, a small smile growing on her lips. “Why do you ask?”

Bada looks away from the birds and at her feet instead. “Some of my friends were talking about love because Valentine’s Day is coming up. They said we should give chocolates to boys we love.”

Mrs. Lee’s smile widens, “Ah, I see.”

“But I don’t feel anything when I think about the boys in my class.” Bada mumbles. “So I want to know what I should be feeling.”

Mrs. Lee caresses the top of her daughter’s hair, completely endeared by the young girl. “You’re still young, Bada. You might not feel such strong emotions yet.”

Bada looks up at her mother, her eyes wide and pleading.

Mrs. Lee sighs, then nods. “Alright.” She moves her daughter around in her lap so she’s facing her. “When you’re in love, all you can think about is your partner. You wake up in the morning and your mind instantly goes to them. ‘What are they doing right now?’ ‘Have they eaten breakfast yet?’ ‘Did they sleep well?’” Bada’s mother mumbles. “When you’re with them, you smile very wide.” She reaches over to pinch her daughter’s cheeks, stretching her lips into a smile. Young Bada giggles at the action, her lips easily forming a grin.

Her mother laughs along with her, removing her hands from her daughter’s cheeks.

“And when you’re away from them, you’re very sad.” She makes a small frown, which Bada mimics cutely. “You want to be with them every waking moment.”

Bada glances down at her lap, her eyebrows furrowing. “And what if I can’t tell if I’m in love or not?”

“Oh, you’ll know.” Mrs. Lee nods.

“How?” Bada pouts.

Her mother thinks for a moment before smiling. She grabs her daughter’s arms and slowly starts to place kisses on her small cuts. Bada looks at her mother in surprise, a few giggles slipping from her lips at the action.

“You'll realize you're in love when you see your partner hurt, and all you want to do is make them feel better,” her mother mumbles. “You wish you had magical powers to heal all their wounds–” She places a kiss on Bada’s last cut. “So, you end up kissing every injury to help them heal.”

Bada breathes in wonder, her eyes glittering under the sunlight. “Is that why appa always gives you a kiss when you get hurt?”

“Yes.” Mrs. Lee nods, grinning widely. “He helps me get better, and it’s his way of telling me he loves me.”

“But what if one day you get really hurt, and appa isn’t there to give you a kiss?” Bada asks. “Will you not heal?”

“In that case, I’ll have to be strong and get better on my own.” Her mother whispers softly. “Although I wish I could, I can’t always rely on your father to take care of me. I need to be independent as well.”

“I think I know what it means to be in love now.” Bada smiles. “I’m excited to fall in love!”

Mrs. Lee laughs warmly. “That’s good, sweetheart. You should be very excited to find someone who will also kiss your wounds.” Together, mother and daughter sit in the garden, their heads and hearts filled with love. 

A strong breeze suddenly whips around them, plucking a few sunflower petals from the bushel next to the roses. They dance and flutter in the air, making both Bada and her mother stare up at them in amazement. 

As yellow sunflower petals fall onto the mausoleum floor, Bada smiles widely. She closes her eyes and nods. “I understand now, mother.” Opening her eyes, she glances at her mother’s headstone. “I know what I must do.”

She says one final goodbye to the resting place of her mother before racing out of the private cemetery, and toward her Porsche 918 Spyder. She’s about to pull out of the parking lot when her eyes catch a store across the street. She freezes in her spot, mesmerized.

There, on display, a misty gem sat atop a golden band surrounded by small diamonds, with flower-shaped gold holding onto the gem. It’s a unique, but beautiful ring.

“Perfect.” Bada breathes.

Arriving back at the Lee mansion, a cloud of sorrow and heartbreak fills the halls. Bada winces as she trudges up the stairs, guilt causing her throat to close up. Her feet take a mind of their own, leading her on autopilot to the place where she longs to be most, with you.

Bada stares at the wood of your door, suddenly feeling immensely nervous. She wonders if you’d felt this way when you bravely knocked on her door hours prior.

She raises her fist to knock, her ears just barely picking up the sound of small sniffles behind the door. Her heart screams in her chest.

She waits a few moments with no response before grabbing onto the doorknob, and twisting it open. Bada steps into your room hesitantly, her eyebrows furrowing at what she sees.

You’re sitting in your bed, your hands covering your eyes as you silently weep into them. Lusher sits beside you, rubbing your back soothingly as she tries to calm you. She looks up at the sound of Bada coming in, her eyes moving to Hyo who stands next to the door.

Hyo does nothing, simply glances between you and her boss while gnawing her bottom lip.

Lusher casts her disapproving gaze onto Bada, but her friend quickly shakes her head. Bada steps forward and walks to your side, kneeling next to the bed.

“Hey,” She says to you softly.

You don’t look up at her, only inch closer to Lusher.

Bada closes her eyes and swallows a lump in her throat. “I’m sorry.” She whispers sincerely.

Your cries seem to slowly die down at her words, now becoming small sniffles.

“I’m ready to tell you everything if you’re willing to listen.”

You finally take your hands away from your face to look up at Lusher. She stares back at you and smiles, nodding kindly. You take in a deep breath, “Okay.”

Sand crunches below you, and the sound of ocean waves whipping against each granule soothes your nerves. The night is cold, which makes you regret wearing the beige, glittery dress you’d chosen. You clutch at your arms, feeling goosebumps rise from your skin.

Bada notices you shivering and takes off her black coat. “Here.” She whispers, draping it over your shoulders and rubbing her slim hands up and down your arms to warm you up.

You stare at Bada, hating how your heart leaps in your chest at her tender care. You want to stew in your anger and hurt, but the way she looks at you with so much warmth and regret makes you melt. You’re weak.

Bada, now in a simple black shirt and brown slacks steps back. “Is that better?”

“Yes.” You mumble, looking at the sand pooling under your feet.

Bada nods, breathing out deeply. “Okay.” She looks incredibly nervous in front of you, and you almost want to soothe her worries. “I’m not sure how to start this…” She trails off. “But I want you to know that I’m sorry.”

You look up from the sand to stare into Bada’s eyes.

“The things I said to you were disgusting lies.” She admits, shame encompassing her expression. “You are more to me than just a business deal. You have been from the start.”

In the background, the ocean waves begin to calm.

“I never told you this, but…” She shakes her head, a ghost of a smile on her lips. “the day that we met, I came to talk to your parents to break off the deal.”

Your eyes go wide, and a look of confusion grows on your expression.

“I’d been having second thoughts about our engagement.” She closes her eyes, remembering that day vividly. “I was going to tell them that I wanted to call it off, but then–” her smile turns soft. “You walked in.”

Suddenly, you no longer feel cold, the heat of Bada’s coat and confession making every part of your body burn.

“And you were so beautiful. Like nothing I’d ever seen. So beautiful, and so smart.” She opens her eyes, taking your hands into hers. “I knew then and there that I had to go along with the deal. That I had to make you mine.”

You squeeze Bada’s hands, tears beginning to flow into your eyes.

“But I was terrified. I was so terrified of my feelings.” She starts to tear up as well. “If I were to let you fall in love with me, I would be putting your life at risk. I told myself I was being selfish.”

You want to cut in and deny everything that she says, but you let her talk.

“When my mother died…” Bada chokes on her words–she has to close her eyes and steady her breathing to continue. “She stepped in front of a bullet for me.”

The tears you’d been trying to hold back release, your heart aching in your chest in sympathy for your fiancée.

“Her bodyguard betrayed us... he was aiming to kill me but–” She takes another deep breath. “My mother took the shot.”

“Oh, Bada…” You whisper, throwing your arms around her to pull her into a hug.

Bada breaks down in the comfort of your arms, sobbing violently, and finally releasing 13 years worth of guilt. You hold onto her the entire time, rubbing her back and whispering sweet nothings into her ears.

"I should've been the one to die that day," she cries. "My parents could have had another child—a son. Someone they could be proud to pass on the business to."

“Bada Lee, you are the most hardworking woman I’ve ever met.” You insist. “Your parents would be so proud of what you’ve made of their business.”

Bada tightens her hold on your waist. “I’m sorry.” She slowly unravels herself from you, wiping her tears as she steels herself. “There’s nothing I want more in this world than to wake up next to you every morning. I want to stay by your side for what little time we may have together.”

You bite your lip, trying to stop your sobs from passing beyond your lips.

Bada takes your hand and suddenly starts walking toward a faint light in the distance of the beach. You give her a confused look but follow her anyway until you finally see what she’s bringing you toward.

Rose petals are scattered on the beach sand to create a makeshift walkway, lanterns with burning candles lighting up the sides of it while a small arch in the shape of a heart lies beyond the petals.

You instantly clasp your hands over your mouth, breathing out in shock and awe, turning to face Bada who only smiles at you. She takes both of your hands once again, then slowly starts to lower herself onto the sand, taking one knee in front of you.

“When I look at you, I see my future in your eyes. I know who I am with you.” She places a kiss on your knuckles. “I am selfish. I am a woman who will devote her every waking moment to caring and protecting you.”

She slips her hand into the pocket of her brown slacks and pulls out a black box. You start to openly sob when she opens it and reveals a beautiful engagement ring.

“So, will you allow me to be a selfish woman, and love you until the end of my days?”

“Yes!”

A mess of kisses and wandering hands, you and Bada trail into her private beach house. It’s small but cozy and intimate, exactly what you two need.

Bada guides you in the direction of the master bedroom, never separating from your soft lips. She huffs, her hot breaths caressing your skin as she opens the door and walks toward the bed. It’s decorated in even more rose petals that you crush when she lays you down, and hovers on top of you.

“I’ve said some terrible things to you today,” Bada whispers. “So let me make it up to you.” She places her hand over your right breast, squeezing it and making you moan. “Will you let me?” She asks. “Will you let me…make love to you?”

“Yes.” You breathe. “Yes, Bada.”

Bada smiles, closing her eyes in bliss at the way you alluringly say her name. “I love your voice.” She trails her slim fingers down your body before bringing them up again, and carefully helping you peel your shining dress off your body.

You’re left in your panties and your bra, heaving, passionate breaths making your chest rise and fall in quick succession. Bada stares at your breasts unabashedly before dragging her eyes over every inch of your body. She looks in complete and utter awe, taking in a sharp breath.

“I love your body.” She continues, lowering her hands to your panties, slowly pushing them aside. She finds your pussy glistening with slick, her eyes drinking in the sight with fiery irises. Bada parts your lips, watching carefully as strings of wetness cling to them, revealing your pearly, throbbing clit.

As if in a trance, she brings her thumb up to it, rubbing it up and down with varying degrees of pressure, studying how you cry out in pleasure at each motion.

“Do you like that?” She whispers, staring to trial kisses on your neck and breasts.

“Yes.” You immediately respond, losing yourself in the simple pleasure your faincée gives you. All the months of being untouched have made you so sensitive–so, so sensitive to the point that you’re releasing ridiculous amounts of slick onto Bada’s fingers.

“I want to feel you,” Bada confesses, moving her fingers away from your clit and to your hole. She traces her finger around it before gently inserting one in, your pussy sucking her in without any complaint. “Ah,” she breathes, closing her eyes. “You’re so warm.”

You let out a strangled moan at her words, begging her to continue.

She does as you ask, pushing her finger in deep before dragging it out–again and again she does this, slowly building up her pace until she’s driving her finger into you at an incredible speed. “You’re so warm, honey. So wet.” She repeats, stars in her eyes as she moves to kiss you passionately, all tongue and spit.

“More, please.” You ask again.

“Of course.” She whispers against your lips. Bada takes another finger and inserts it into you, the almost painful but pleasurable stretch makes you cry out, grabbing her unoccupied hand to squeeze it. “There you go.” She says fondly. “Make as much noise as you want to, honey. It’s just us.”

So you let yourself go, practically moaning like a porn star as Bada pounds her fingers into you, your slick sloshing against them and pruning up her digits. She doesn’t seem to care at all, instead changing their position to crook them upwards, dragging them along your walls, indulging you in sexual gratification like you’ve never felt before.

“I want you to cum all over my fingers.” She breathes, the words so heavy you can barely make them out. “Cover me in your juices. Do it.”

Driving her point, Bada lowers her face to your pussy, licking her long tongue against your clit. She flicks it, then takes it into her mouth, swirling her tongue against it.

You immediately cry out in pleasure, your mouth gaping open and eyes closing shut as your fiancée smirks against your clit. She continues her pace, pistoning her fingers in and out of you until she brushes your sweet spot–

“Oh my god!” You scream, your eyes almost rolling back in sheer bliss. “Right there, right there!”

Bada opens her eyes–her lids heavy as makes eye contact with you. “Right here?” She pushes her finger in once again, crooking it up perfectly so that it hits your g-spot perfectly. “Oh yeah, that’s the spot, isn’t it?” She mutters to herself, a proud smile finding her lips.

That, coupled with one long, hard suck and swirl from her tongue on your clit makes your eyes roll back, insurmountable pleasure flowing through you as you cum.

“Soak me.” Bada guides you through it, holding onto your hand tightly to ground you as you embark on a world of bliss, her fingers and mouth never slowing down until you start to whine. 

“Please–” you choke out, your pussy sensitive from her touch.

Your fiancée slows her fingers and pops her mouth off your pussy, licking her lips before she fully pulls out her digits from inside of you. When she does, a gush of cum follows in her wake, trailing down and falling onto the linen sheets. She smiles at the sight, lifting her fingers to her mouth and sucking on your juices.

“I love the way you taste.” She separates her fingers to show you the beads of her spit and your slick combined into one debauched substance.

You sit up from bed, crawling over to her with a mischievous look. You grab her hand and bring it up to your lips, sucking on her fingers gently, moving your head up and down in a sensual motion.

“Fuck.” Bada watches you in awe, her cunt pulsing against her boxers and layers of clothes. “How are you so effortlessly alluring?”

You look up at your fiancée, dragging her fingers out of your mouth. “Bada…”

“Yes?” She asks, using her clean hand to brush her thumb over your cheek lovingly.

“Can I touch you too?” You drag your hand down Bada’s chest, stopping just before the waistband of her slacks.

Bada smiles and nods, grabbing your hand and beginning to take off her black shirt. She pulls it off of her body easily, letting it fall to the floor as her hand moves to remove her sports bra as well. You take the time to also remove your bra, now fully exposed while Bada takes off her slacks.

You try your hardest not to stare at her, but with every movement she does, her lean abs move, and her muscled arms strain. Bada Lee has an amazing body, and you can’t help but gape.

Your fiancée, unaware of your stare finally strips herself of her boxers–which she notes are wet with slick–and moves back onto the bed.

“You’re so pretty.” You whisper to her bashfully, moving your fingers up and down her abs.

The action makes Bada release a heavy breath from her nose, your feather-light touch making her abdominals stretch. “Thank you.” She smiles, leaning in to place a warm sweet kiss on your lips. 

You break away after a moment, leaning your head down and motioning for Bada to lay back. She does so immediately, encouraging you to do as you please with a hand on the back of your head. 

You slowly lower your head so you’re face-to-face with Bada’s cunt. You notice a few beads of wetness fall from her folds, making you smile proudly. She’s just as riled up as you.

Without a second thought, you part her lips like she had yours and place your hot mouth on her cunt, making her hiss. She throws her head back, once again her abs stretching as her long hair falls against her face. “Ah, fuck.”

You move your tongue inside of her, eyes going doe when she stares down at you with burning irises, so full of passion and heat that you unconsciously rub your thighs together, slick building between your legs again.

“You’re so good at that, baby.” Bada moans, grabbing your hair with enough force so that she can move you while still keeping her grip painless. She has to hold herself back–remember that this is about making love not fucking. Her full strength could truly hurt you. “Fuck yeah.” She curses, moving your head up and down as she uses you to pleasure herself.

You slip into a submissive role, allowing Bada to move and use you in any way, happy to bring her the same amount of ecstasy that she’d given you. You move your tongue in and out of her hot, gummy walls, slick running down your chin and the column of your throat until it dribbles in between the valley of your breasts.

Bada watches every movement and groans loudly, turned on out of her mind. She moves your head up and down faster, feeling every drag of your tongue and the pressure of your nose against her clit.

She’s so close, right there–

“Wait–” She breathes, letting go of your head. “Wait.”

You instantly shoot up, worried you’ve done something wrong. “Wha–”

Bada flips your position so you’re below her again. She takes your leg and crooks it against her hip, placing her cunt just inches away from your pussy. “I want to cum with you.” She heaves.

You stare up at your fiancée, your heart swelling in your chest to the point you’re worried it’ll burst. You grab her unoccupied hand and nod, smiling sweetly at her.

She smiles back, running her thumb over the engagement ring resting on your ring finger. She places a kiss on it before she uses her strength to lift herself up, and slowly lower her pussy against yours. She lets out another kiss, her cunt still sensitive from her almost release just minutes prior.

She starts out slow, rubbing up and down and positioning herself so that her lips meet the parting of yours. She encourages you to move with her, using her grip on your thigh to help you gain a rhythm in rubbing yourself against her.

You’re both so wet that loud squelching noises fill the air, your skin parting with strings of juices touching each other’s skin lewdly. Bada then starts to speed up her pace, rubbing up against your pussy as she sighs blissfully. She drags her hand up to your breast, grabs your nipple between her fingers, and starts to rub.

You let out a small moan which makes your fiancée twist your nipple with a bit more force, and then angle down enough so that she can flick her tongue against it. She takes your breast into her mouth, sucking rather harshly to pull out a louder moan from your parted lips.

She pops off your breast to smirk, pushing both of them together. “I love your tits.” She spits on them, then flattens her tongue and drags it across your nipples.

“Bada…” You trail off, tears of pleasure falling from your eyes.

“I know baby,” she mutters, her voice hitching when she angles her hips down at the perfect spot and applies just the perfect amount of pressure–she does it again. A mix of her groan and your cry ringing in the air. She slaps her pussy against your own, the shock of bliss shoots up her spine, and makes her curse. “Fuck, cum with me.” She closes her eyes, losing herself in the pleasure. “Fucking cum with me, honey. Let go and give me your all. I want it.”

So you give her what she wants.

Both you and Bada cum seconds later, both of your eyes closed tight in ecstasy as your pussies still rub against each other’s, riding out the high until you no longer can.

Your fiancée is the first to pull away, gently letting go of your thigh and stretching it onto the bed. Exhausted, she flops beside you, breathing heavily.

“How do you feel?” She checks up on you, her eyes finding yours in an instant.

“So good.” You admit with a smile.

Bada grins back at you, scooting closer to you until her body is pressed against your side. She flips you around so that you’re facing her as she wraps her arms around your waist. “Hi.” She mumbles sweetly.

“Hi.” You mumble back, holding back a giggle.

Both of your bodies are hot and shining with sweat, but neither of you cares. You stay tangled together, simply staring into each other’s eyes.

This time when you look into her irises, there’s no storm brewing–no icey wall keeping you separated from her. Just her pretty, dark brown irises. This is the woman you’d fallen in love with.

Your fiancée’s eyes say, “I know who I am.”

“I’m glad,” yours say back.

Bada leans forward, rubbing her nose against yours in a sweet gesture. Then she moves to place her lips inches away from your ear, whispering, “I love you.”

❝ the pain of grief is just as much a part of life as the joy of love; it is, perhaps, the price we pay for love, the cost of commitment. ❞

taglist:

@aericrys, @somerandomtinyperson, @bluebada, @dallaji, @luvjanexx, @hyejuwu, @diana-rose-25, @jjlovesbada, @cephox, @prilux, @youknow1234, @fae-the-wanderer @mightymyo, @aein-tings, @badasgirlfriend, @onlyyou-metanoia, @wiselight @badasoneandonly, @multiliker, @badabonita, @randomhoex, @justaharmlesspotat0, @sporadicfacebasement, @4bada, @seungxstar, @urlovebot, @neuftaeng, @hyunsllvr, @aixicl, @itzmy

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

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

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

[fourmoony]

𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 (𝟑)

james potter x f!reader

fluff. 1.8k

Summary: James and Sirius miss Hope's first steps, but not her first time on a broom.

i love this little family so much, so now consider 'hope' as a mini series :) - h <;3

part 1 - part 2 - part 4 - masterlist

...

Hope is standing in the middle of the room, her little hands outstretched towards Remus.

He’s holding a magic camera, his eyes wide and words encouraging as he talks to her. They’re in matching pyjamas Sirius bought everyone the previous Christmas that have little Christmas trees and candy canes on. It’s March, the night before Hope’s first birthday, but the matching pyjamas have become a staple of lazy days spent in yours and James’ home. Hope wobbles on her feet a little, big blue eyes wide with laughter. Remus laughs too, snapping photograph after photograph as his niece stumbles towards him.

You’re cheering, too, from behind her, hands clasped to your mouth. You’ve been an emotional wreck all day. Hope turns one, tomorrow, and you’re starting to understand why James is adamant she’s growing too fast. It’s been nine months. The war is still raging on but being able to come home from the potion’s lab, or an order meeting, and have your little girl be there, safe, loved, and a beacon of pure light and joy, makes everything a little less scary. You fight every day for a world in which she can grow and be safe. You know a lot of people aren’t so lucky. But Hope has lived up to her name’s sake for your family.

And now she’s going to be one.

And she’s taking her first steps towards Remus, who’s cheering loudly, and your daughter is giggling, and you’re crying.

Tears of pure joy are streaming down your face when Hope finally reaches Remus and falls into his arms. Remus sets the camera down and picks her up. He holds her to his face, blows a raspberry against her cheek, and she howls with laughter. When he sets her back down, Hope tootles back towards you, bright eyed, wide smiled, and fast on her feet. You’re waiting with open arms, ecstatic when your daughter collapses into them. Remus is back to snapping photos, which you’re glad of because if James isn’t already going to be gutted that he missed Hope’s first steps, he’ll be livid if he finds out there’s no photographic evidence of it.

“Oh,” You breathe when Hope’s tiny hand tries to swipe at your wet cheeks, “Oh, my sweet girl.”

“You okay?” Remus asks, though he looks just as close to tears despite the wide smile on his face.

You nod, wipe at your tacky cheeks, and send hope off to play with the collection of toys she’s set up in the middle of the living room, “She’s growing up too fast, Rem.”

Remus laughs and nods like he agrees, “You sound like James.”

“He’s going to be so annoyed.”

“We have the photos,” Remus tries to placate, but you both know James is still going to pitch a fit about missing Hope’s first steps.

Sirius, too, probably.

Remus gets up to make a cuppa for you both and you settle back to watch Hope. When he returns, you sit on the floor together and watch her. She’s in her own world, not a clue that it’s going to be her birthday tomorrow. She has no idea all your friends will be over for dinner to celebrate her, that there’ll be gifts for her, and cake for her. In a way it’s nice that she doesn’t have a clue. You know one day, when she’s four or five, and she understands more, that you’ll likely have to scrape her off the ceiling from excitement.

When James and Sirius get back Hope is on the suite with a bottle, half asleep. None the wiser, James leans down to press a kiss onto her head as he passes into the kitchen to find you and Remus. The kitchen windows are fogged up, a pot of soup bubbling away on the stove whilst you wash dishes and Remus dries and puts them away. The radio is playing softly in the background, mixed with the soft sound of Sirius’ voice as he talks to Hope about his day.

James appears in the doorway and he’s smiling the kind of smile where you know that he’s feeling grateful for the scene he’s come home to.

“Hey,” He greets you both.

You smile, drying your hands on a tea towel, and approach him for a kiss. You’re on your tippy toes when Sirius starts screaming from the living room. Your blood runs cold as Sirius shouts for you, James, and Remus, mind running wild with every possible danger that could have unfolded in the two minutes he’s been alone with Hope. There could be Death Eaters at your house – though, it’s physically unplottable, the thought still runs through your mind. Hope could have fallen from the couch onto her head. The list is endless.

The three of you are out of the kitchen and standing wide eyed in the living room in record time, scanning for any sign of danger. Sirius is standing by the window, jumping up and down excitedly, pointing at your daughter who is waddling towards him with a wide grin. She’s giggling again, and it’s that sound that kills your fight or flight mode. Now, you smile happily, watching as James proceeds to dissolve into a fit of tears.

He’s smiling and jumping with Sirius, but he’s sobbing uncontrollably, too.

You and Remus share a look. A silent question. Should you burst their bubble?

“Why aren’t you two more excited?” Sirius accuses.

And now you don’t have a choice because you’ve been caught.

“Babe,” James points, like maybe you can’t see your daughter walking back and forth, and he drops to the floor and corrals her into his arms, “Hope is walking!”

You nod, smiling wide, “Yeah, I see.”

Sirius looks at Remus. Maybe it’s because James is too distracted with kissing all over Hope’s face and mumbling how proud he is that he hasn’t noticed, but Sirius notices the way Remus is nervously biting his lip and immediately gasps.

“Treason!” He points at his boyfriend, wide eyed and accusatory.

“What?” James looks up, brows furrowed.

You and Remus are shifting on your feet. Hope sidles up to your leg, arms wrapping around your calf. You take the opportunity to bend down and pick her up, avoiding James’ question.

“How was shopping? Did you find the doll for-“ You try.

“Stop deflecting! They knew! She’s done it already!” Sirius is hysterical.

James stands, hands on his hips, and you fold.

“I’m sorry! She only did it literally like an hour before you got home!”

“We have photos.” Remus tries, backing away from Sirius as he charges at him.

James looks positively heartbroken. He frowns, blinks, “I missed her first steps?”

You frown, walk towards James, shift Hope further up your hip. He wraps an arm around you both, looks down at his daughter and his resolve softens. He smiles, leans forward to kiss her head. She gurgles, looks up at him with bright blue eyes. It fills your heart with love. Sirius and Remus are bickering to your right, and James is talking softly to Hope about how she must wait for him before achieving any more important milestones. You’re so grateful, so filled with love and joy and hope for the future.

The world isn’t perfect.

But when you have a family like yours, the world feels like maybe, one day, it could be.

“Don’t hate me.” You mumble, leaning your head on James’ shoulder.

James huffs a laugh, presses his lips to the crown of your head, pulls you in tighter, “Never, ever.”

“Did you get the doll?” You ask.

James nods, you feel it against your head.

You still have to wrap Hope’s presents. You should really get her to bed soon. But you don’t want to leave this moment with the people you love most.

“So, can I go get the toy broom from the cupboard?” Sirius asks. He and Remus seem to have made up. Sirius is leaning against Remus’ chest, a wicked smile on his lips.

You sigh, look at your daughter, mentally debating. Sirius has been dying to get Hope on a broom since he met her. You gave him strict rules – not until she could walk. And now she can walk. But a part of you worries she’ll love flying. The toy broom is charmed to fly, so you know she can have that. But Hope’s birth parents were muggles, and you know when she gets older, she won’t be able to mesh her magic with a broom to make it fly. Unless.

“Fine. Okay,” You concede. “But no higher than the coffee table!”

Sirius isn’t listening, already throwing winter coats and Christmas decorations out of the cupboard to get to the toy broom.

“I’ll get the camera.” Remus announces.

“What do we do when she’s too old for the toy broom?” You ask James, gnawing on your lip.

“I’ll look into some charms for bigger brooms, I’m not too sure. I’m sure there’ll be a way for her to be on a broom, at least.” James replies, just as antsy at you.

You’ve talked at length about how if you and James have more children, one day, Hope will be the only one without magical abilities. But you’ve never been able to come up with an actual solution. Really, there’s not one. It’s going to suck. But right now, while she has the chance to fly, who would you be to stop her? You never want to hold Hope back. You never will. So, when Sirius returns and takes Hope from your arms, hands the broom to James, you can’t help but feel excited.

James holds the broom and Sirius sets Hope on it.

She’s clumsy, holding onto Sirius’ arms rather than the handle, and she kicks her feet violently, which makes the broom wobble. But Sirius moves with her, laughing with pure unfiltered happiness. Remus snaps photos, following Sirius and Hope around the room. You sit, legs crossed, on the floor, a hand on your heart because you feel like you might explode. It’s cute and it’s happy and your house is filled with so much joy.

“At least I got to see her first time on a broom.” James placates with himself as he sits down next to you.

You laugh just as Sirius tries to take his hands off of Hope. She wobbles and almost topples off the side of the broom and you fly forwards. By the time you get there, Hope has corrected herself, and is flying with ease just high enough for her tip toes to be touching the ground. You still. Let out a breath. Sirius looks up guiltily.

“Her first and last.” You tell James.

“What’s that burning smell?” Remus asks, before Sirius can argue back.

You frown, looking around, “The soup!”

“Shit.” Remus abandons the camera and follows you to the kitchen.

From the living room, you can hear Sirius assuring Hope that it won’t be her last time on a broom, that her uncle Sirius will make her a quidditch star in no time. You hope, by some miracle, that he's right. You'll love her either way, though.

#marauders #marauders era #marauders fluff #marauders fic #james potter #james potter fic #james potter x reader #james potter fluff #james potter smut #james potter angst #sirius black #sirius black fic #remus lupin #remus lupin fic #wolfstar #wolfstar fic #peter pettigrew #peter pettigrew fic #lily evans #lily evans fic #mary macdonald #mary macdonald fic #marlene mckinnon #marlene mckinnon fic #dorcas meadowes #dorcas meadowes fic #regulus black #barty crouch jr #evan rosier #pandora rosier

[changbunnies]

Misbehave, (18+)

♡ Pairing: Boyfriend!Changbin x Fem!Reader

♡ Genre: smut, pre-established relationship

♡ Word Count: 4k

♡ Summary: Changbin is on tour and misses his pretty girlfriend back home- and what better way to tell her he misses her than to send her a naughty video? 

♡ Smut Warnings: sub!changbin, video recording, nipple play, masturbation, mommy kink (this is self indulgent okay), sex toys, phone sex, it is more than implied that bin has a degradation kink, petnames (baby, bunny, honey)

♡ Notes: so i saw this video of a guy in bunny pajamas jerking off and it gave me SUCH bad binnie brainrot i literally could not stop imagining him in cute pink bunny pajamas recording a video for his gf 😵‍💫😵‍💫 so yeah enjoy this purely self indulgent smut ! and i read a lot of mommy kink fic but this is my first time actually writing it so i'm not super confident its good but i hope it's at least decently enjoyable gfdgdf

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

“Baby! I’m wearing the pajamas you got me, you see?” Changbin smiles, bright and cute, just the way you like it as he looks into his phone's camera. The pajamas are a fluffy, pastel pink full body suit; warm, soft, cozy, with cute lopped bunny ears connected to the hood he has pulled up over his curly hair. You got the pajamas for him because they reminded you of him, you said, and he positively beamed- because you were thinking of him, because you bought him something so adorable, because now he gets to show them off for you.

He didn’t get a chance to wear them before he was getting shipped off on the next plane out of the country, but of course he packed them with him. And now, on a break between shows where he could just relax and take a breath, he decided this was the best time to wear them. But not just wear them- he had to show them to you! And sure, a few pictures would suffice, but isn’t this better? You can fully see how cute he looks in them this way, how the size you picked was just perfect, which he’s sure is because you know him inside and out. 

He takes the soft pink bunny ears connected to the hood in his hands and flops them around, smiling while tilting his head back and forth, playing up his cuteness for the maximum effect. “If you were here, you’d call me cute, right? Your cute baby bunny?” Luckily for Changbin, he’s used to talking to a camera and displaying his cuteness, so recording a video like this for you comes to him naturally. And it’s lucky for you too, since that means your inbox is always full of new videos to get you through the drought until he comes back home.  

Changbin can just imagine how you'd dote on him if you could see him now; you'd kiss his cheeks and nose, you'd ruffle his messy hair, you'd overload him with compliments and sweet words until his face goes pink and dick twitches in his pants. And really, he can't help that his body reacts to you this way- he just loves you so much, he lives for your compliments, and it's not his fault that the sweet, sometimes condescending way you speak them gets him all worked up. And while it's unfortunate he won't be able to get your initial reaction to his cute display in person, his imagination is more than enough fuel to keep him going. 

“There's more I want to show you, you ready?” Changbin says as he starts to scoot away from where he has his phone propped up to record himself. It’s set pretty precariously against the pillows, seemingly on the verge of toppeling at any second, but he doesn’t think about that- his only thought is putting on a show for you. “It’s so soft- but you already know that, honey, you’re the one who picked it out,” he giggles a little to himself, giddy as he once again remembers it's a gift from you (exclamation point: you!), but he forces himself to stay on track before he gets too distracted.

“Since it’s so soft and comfy, I don’t need to wear anything underneath! See?” Changbin takes the zipper in his hand and he intends to pull it down slowly, but well.. he’s excited, and just can’t wait to show you how naked he is underneath the soft fluff of the pajamas you bought him. Sitting on his knees, he pulls the zipper down swiftly; and how quick he pulls it down causes it to get stuck for a moment, but he manages to keep it going smoothly after correcting its course.

If you were here, you’d definitely laugh at him for being so eager- you’d say something mean, but in that sweet, saccharine voice that’d instantly make his face flush pink and dick grow impossibly hard. You’d giggle at him for being pathetic, cock up your eyebrow and tilt your head to the side when he blushes, smirk when you see him twitch and throb and squirm after calling him a slut for always putting himself out on display for you.

The pajamas, big and loose as they are to comfortably fit all of Changbin’s muscle mass, completely hid his erection from view until the zipper was pulled all the way down. His chest, his cute tummy, his leaky cock- you can see it all now. But despite being exposed, he doesn’t take the pajamas off- he keeps the hood pulled up, doesn’t slip his arms out of the sleeves or take his legs out of the pants. He leaves them on for one main reason- because he feels cute in them, and wants you to think he's cute too. 

“When I put them on I started thinking of you,” he says as he shifts into a more comfortable position off of his knees. There’s nothing to prop himself up against at the foot of the bed, so he has to just lean to one side and support himself with a single arm; not ideal, but the headboard has the very important task of keeping his phone upright (with the support of the pillows) and he will not be shifting anything around or starting over.

“A-And I get so hard whenever I think about you because you’re just so- mommy’s so pretty,” he says as his fingers ghost over his muscular chest, tracing the skin before he brushes his thumb over his nipple- the same way you would do it if you were here right now. It’s now that a blush finally rises on his cheeks; and it’s not that he’s embarrassed by doing it infront of a camera or from the image of himself tweaking his nipples reflected back at him, that part doesn’t matter- it’s because he’s sensitive.

His sensitivity to touch, whether yours or his own, is always enough to make his face burn, as it’s always a source of your teasing touches and words. You’ll pinch his sensitive nipples between your fingers while whispering filthy, playful words in his red-tinted ears, softly laughing when he squirms and whines. “I miss you,” he speaks to the camera, biting his lip when he rolls his nipple between his thick fingers, trying not to become too whiny right from the start.

Changbin is sure you’d like it if he was whiny right away, but he has to focus. He knows there’s major appeal in him becoming restless and needy quickly, and he has already shown how eager he is by hastily fumbling with his zipper, but still- he wants this video to last longer than a measly 5 minutes. It takes you longer to cum than him, and he needs to provide a video long enough for you to play with yourself to without having to loop it- that’s his thought process, anyways.

He averts his gaze from his phone setup, opting to look down at himself as he reaches over his chest to give his other nipple equal treatment. "I miss-" he starts to elaborate, but stumbles on his words after giving his nipple a particularly harsh tug. Shit- he has to move on if he wants to stay coherent enough to make a good video for you. Becoming unable to speak in the last few minutes is acceptable, but now, when he's barely even started? No, he has to do better!

So he trails his hand downwards, away from his chest and over his soft stomach as he tries again to let out what he wants to tell you.  “I miss your smile, and- m-miss your kisses, your perfume, your hugs, your-” It’s a habit of Changbin’s to babble in these situations once he starts talking thanks to your influence on him. You like to get him talking when he’s like this- hearing him shyly babble away all the things he thinks you want to hear is easily one of your favorite things about fucking him.

And he obviously knows this, which is why he’s freely speaking every little thing that comes to his mind, knowing that you’ll like it (even if watching it back later will make him feel incredibly embarrassed.) Changbin isn’t shy about many things, but you always effortlessly bring his bashful side out. It’s another one of your favorite things, he knows- reducing your otherwise confident and unashamed boyfriend into an overly talkative, shy mess while his body takes on varying shades of pink and red.

So he does his best to bring himself to that place without your presence, to picture you there in front of him encouraging him to go on, to pretend his hand is yours instead. His string of words is broken by a harsh, shuddery breath when his hand finally reaches his cock. Changbin licks his drying lips and looks back at himself in the camera as he takes his length into his hand, stroking it as slowly as he can stand to.

It's more of a struggle than he'd like to admit- this is the first day he's had enough freetime to touch himself since leaving weeks ago, and his sensitivity, paired with the knowledge that he's recording for you and that you'll see all of this when you wake up in a couple of hours is causing his need to grow at an exponentially faster rate than he was prepared for.

He lets out a hiss when he rubs his thumb over the tip, and he has to make a conscious effort not to squirm or jolt his hips up into his hand too abruptly (both for his own sake, and his phone that isn't entirely stable in its placement.) Changbin's bottom lip quickly grows swollen and red from how frequently he bites at it in a vain effort to contain himself, and while it's more than mildly embarrassing to have such little control over his own body and voice, he knows you'll enjoy watching his failed efforts.

Changbin forces eye contact with the view of himself in his phone, wanting to ensure that it feels like he's looking at you when you inevitably watch it. He observes every detail, does his best to take note of what it is you'll be seeing; he watches the rise and fall of his own chest, how his stomach clenches, how his ever so slightly exposed thighs tense and twitch. You'll like this, right? Will think he's as sexy as he is cute? Will love it so much that you'll rub yourself over your dampening panties, that you'll reward him with a flood of sweet messages to wake up to when its morning for him?

"D-Do I look good like this, mama?" he asks the camera as he speeds up the motion of his hand, "Yes, right? I do? You love this, love me?" He briefly allows his eyes to close, imagining that you're there to answer his desperate questions- 'You look perfect, Binnie, you're amazing, such a good boy for me, I love you.' He can really hear you if he concentrates on the thought, as if you're just in front of him and not thousands of miles away peacefully asleep in bed.

Opening his eyes, Changbin remembers the bunny pajamas aren't the only thing he brought with him that he wanted to show you- he still has another surprise in store that he hopes you'll like to see. Letting go of his cock, he brings himself back to his knees and reaches for something just out of view of the camera- his fleshlight. His phone tilts from the shift in the weight, and Changbin is quick to catch it before it completely topples over.

He offers the camera a shy, somewhat awkward giggle as he puts his phone back in place, making an effort to secure it better this time in the hopes that it won't jostle too much from what he plans to do next. And in trying to get his toy ready quickly, he pours practically his entire travel-sized bottle of lube into it; a waste for sure, but he can always buy more later- getting the show back on track is more important.

Changbin is leaned forward now, face as close to the camera as it was when he was playing with the ears attached to the hood. His face being close again doesn't obscure the view of his body at all though, thanks to the fact that he's leaning at an angle, with one palm flat on the bed to support his weight while the other holds the fleshlight where he wants it. He's a bit nervous for this part, if he's being honest- maintaining eye contact himself while he fucks his toy is something he's never done before, but he wants to do it for you, so you have the best experience possible when he sends the video to you!

Other than briefly looking away to line himself up with the toy in his hand, he looks into the camera the entire time- as he slides inside, as he gasps and moans, as he rolls his hips over and over and over. He wonders if you’ve noticed it was gone; did you open up your shared drawer, pull out the bag containing all your fun little toys to have some fun with yourself, noticing in an instant that he took his own toys with him?

He imagines you did- that you pulled it out, intending to rummage for one of your vibrators and clearly saw it missing. You'd smile when you realized, he thinks, as there's only one reason to take such a thing with him. And you'd think of him the same way he always thinks of you, imagine him there next to you, close your eyes and pretend you're teasing him by making him watch you use a vibrator, not letting him touch you unless he's a good boy and keeps his hands to himself until you cum.

Changbin is always a good boy, even in his imaginary scenarios- he'd never, never do anything against what you tell him. Even when he imagines you touching yourself, when he thinks about what scenarios you'd picture in your mind to get off, he's a good boy who does whatever he's told, watching and waiting patiently for his time to touch you.

The ears on the hood still pulled over his fluffy hair bounce with each movement he makes, and finally he breaks eye contact with his phone, his head falling forward and eyes squeezing shut as his whimpers and moans grow in volume. "F-Feels so good baby, mom-mommy, mama, Binnie feels so- so good," he whines, biting his lip once more as he lifts his head to look at the camera again.

If he wasn't already so far gone, he'd feel bad for his neighbor on the other side of the hotel wall; he knows he's getting loud, but he can't help it. He's fucking his toy, head full of you- of what you'd say to him, how you'd sound with your vibrator pressed to your clit, how you'd expertly time your release with his, how you'd look at him when you cum together. With his eyes squeezed shut, he can perfectly conjure the image of you in his head, vivid and almost real enough to trick his brain into believing you’re together right now.

The way you smile at him always rattles his senses, pretty to an almost ethereal degree, sharply contrasting the dirty words you confidently, unashamedly tell him. And while your voice rings clearly in his head, it’s not really you- it’s just the memory of you; vivid, clear, but not as real as he wants it to be. His imagination helps but it’s still nothing compared to if you were really talking to him, if he could see you when he opens his eyes, if he could reach out and touch you or smell your perfume mixed with arousal.

Changbin just wants you, he misses you so fucking bad. It’s the early hours of the morning where you are, and you’re likely still asleep, but he has to call you, has to hear your voice. He obviously intended to cum on camera for you, and he’ll definitely feel bad about waking you up when he’s back in his right mind, but all he can think about right now is how much he craves you. He reaches for his phone, hastily ending the recording and pulling up your contact, pressing the call button before he can even think to stop himself.

The phone rings for so unbearably long that Changbin expects to hear your voicemail message, but to his surprised relief, you answer; a soft, deep and groggy “hello?” from the other end of the line. “Mommy-” he whines upon hearing your voice, his desperation clear through the speaker pressed to your ear. As if the needy whine wasn't enough of a tell to what he's doing, you can hear the slick, sloppy sounds of what you can only assume to be either his lubed up hand or one of his toys beneath his panting breaths and whimpery moans.

"Binnie," you start, a playful tone emerging in your voice, the haze of sleep melting away in record time in response to hearing your sweet boy playing with himself, "are you being naughty?" He nods quickly before he remembers you can't even see him right now and he needs to provide a verbal answer. "Y-Yeah, I- I was m-making a video for you but I need- need you so bad right now," he answers, his entire body shuddering when he hears you sweetly laugh in response.

"You always make me videos, though," you muse with a smile as you shift in bed, "but I'm guessing this is a naughty video, huh? Is that right, sweet boy?" Changbin whines when you call him that, but quickly affirms the statement with a timid 'yes.' You hum as your smile grows, settling comfortably on your back as you continue to talk to him. "So, what happened? Got so needy while making your slutty little video for me that you couldn't even finish it properly? Had to call mommy and wake her up just so you could finish getting off, is that it?"

He lets out another whine- louder this time, and beneath it another sound becomes obvious to your ears; whatever hotel bed he's on is beginning to creak. It tells you something important- that's he's not just laying on his back and stroking himself, but that he's deliberately fucking whatever it is he's using. And given the growing volume and rapid rate of the creaking, you imagine he's rutting into it pretty desperately.

Oh, what a sight he must be right now- it's a shame he's not recording anymore, because his debauched desperation would reflect beautifully on camera, a perfect image for only your eyes to see. "Are your eyes closed, bunny? Are you imagining me there?" you suddenly ask him and again he answers with an affirmative, albeit timid, whine. Good, you think, you know exactly what to do with this information- a little bit of roleplay is just the thing your sweet boy needs.

"How's my pussy feel, baby? Is it good?" you ask, having to bite your lip to suppress a delighted laugh when he gasps and whimpers. The fact that you're playing into his ongoing mental fantasies and pretending he's fucking you is driving him impossibly close to the edge. "S-So good, mama!" he manages to stutter out, and you can tell his rutting has grown more sporadic, the creaking of the bed far less successive and rhythmic as it was when you first noticed it.

“So wet, always so wet-” he continues, cutting himself off with a particularly loud whimper. In true ‘good boy’ fashion, Changbin intended to babble away all his thoughts and the things he knew you’d want to hear him say, but he has himself so high strung and taut that all he can do now is spill noise after noise from his harshly bitten lips. He wishes he wasn’t so close, if only so you could hear your voice for a little longer, but he can’t delay it much more than he already has. And the poor boy, he tries to ask for permission, or at least warn you it’s coming, but all that comes out are broken syllables between all his panting and crying.

It’s obvious he’s close without him even having to say it, and while your bunny appreciates a mean streak when it comes from you, you can tell he needs this and you’re not going to punish him for struggling to ask for permission. Instead, you’ll sweetly encourage him along; because another thing about Changbin is that he hates being bad, even when it’s by accident. “Gonna fill me up, sweet boy? Fill mommy’s pussy with your cum?” you ask, ensuring he knows it’s more than okay, that you want him to cum for you.

Changbin’s eyes roll back the instant the words leave your mouth, his cum spurting into the toy as a string of broken cries leave him in quick succession. He collapses to the bed with exhaustion when he’s finally done, his chest heaving as he tries to calm his racing heart and get his breathing back under control. He’s impossibly hot, from equal parts the pajamas and how worked up he got, his face red hot and his hair clinging to his forehead with sweat, eyes still closed while his brain tries to reboot itself and get back to normal function.

“Shit-” he suddenly scrambles back up, pressing the phone back up to his ear, “I’m so sorry, you were sleeping, it’s still early there and I called you anyways, oh my god-” Your giggle cuts off his string of apologies, and while he’s still impossibly sorry for waking you up just because he was horny, he is relieved you’re not mad at him. “It’s okay Bin, it was better than waking up to my alarm clock, that’s for sure,” you muse with a smile; could you have gotten an extra hour or two of sleep? Of course, but is this better? Absolutely.

“I love you, you know that? I love you so fucking much,” Changbin says and you giggle again before you reply. “I love you too, so don’t forget to send me that video! And clean yourself up, bunny, I know you’re a mess right now. I’ll stay on the phone with you, okay?” “Yeah? You will?” he smiles as he complies, carefully rising from the bed to get himself and his toy clean. “Mhm, it’s starting to get late for you, right? I’ll stay until you sleep,” you tell him, and oh, does that make him ecstatic.

He sends you the video before he forgets, and you talk about mundane things while he takes care of all the tasks he needs to get done to sleep. You’re talking about little things like what you plan to eat for breakfast, what you have to do at work today, what friends you’re going to meet for lunch- and Changbin soaks it all up happily, sighing contentedly as he lies back in his hotel bed, curled up with your soft voice to lull him comfortably to sleep. You don’t stop until you hear his soft snores and measured breaths, whispering to him a ‘good night’ and ‘I love you’ that he can no longer hear, but you have to say regardless. 

Ending the call, you still have an hour left before you have to start your day in earnest, with a video in your inbox from your sweet boy just waiting to be watched and played to. You smile as you set your laptop at the foot of the bed and click open his video along with your camera, rays of sunshine just beginning to illuminate your room through the curtains, setting a beautiful backdrop as you set yourself up to return your sweet boyfriend’s favor.

#this was supposed to come out sooner but i got sick earlier this week :') forgive me besties #skz x reader #changbin x reader #skz smut #changbin smut #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz fanfic #sub!skz #mdni + divider graphic credit: @cafekitsune

[mooooonnnzz]

I LOVE YOUR DAD!MIGUEL FICS so how about the reader painting Dad!Miguel’s nails???😍 like the reader bothers Miguel about it until he’s like “Ugh. Fine.” But he actually ends up enjoying it and spending time with his daughter (reader, or if you want then kid for gender neutral)

Manicure! /// Miguel O’Hara x GN!Teen!Reader

✦ I MADE IT GN, hope u dont mind i already made like 3 fem readers so i had to even it out 😞

✦ miguels a lil grump here

✦ pure fluff!! <33

✦ HOPE U ENJOY!!

“What color do you want?” Your eyes looked through the rows of nail polish you had organized on top of your dresser. A large teasing smile was plastered on your face as you searched. Miguel muttered curses under his breath, his eye twitching in annoyance at your smile. After hours of you pleading and begging Miguel to allow you to paint his nails, he finally caved in, saying he was sick and tired of your pestering. Though, he wasn’t too happy about it. His knitted brows and deep scowl spoke volumes to you.

You found his whole childish act amusing. This grown man, who’s your father, is acting like it’s the end of the world because you wanted to paint his nails. Miguel didn’t respond to your question from earlier, probably too busy throwing a huge tantrum inside his head to respond, so you decided to choose for him. You plucked a few colors from the rows and laid them down on your palms. “Which ones?”

Miguel huffed out, his eyes looking at the polishes on your hands before looking down at his hands. Was he trying to imagine which color would suit him better? A shaky smile threatened to pull on your lips but you quickly pursed your lips into a thin line when Miguel’s eyes darted over to your face, eyelids menacingly narrowing at you. “Paint them white.”

You gave him a weird look. “White? But that’s so basic.” You looked down at the colors you picked out, pointing at a red and black one. “What about red and black? So it’ll match your suit.”

Now it was his turn to give you a weird look.

“My suit doesn’t have any black on it.” He tells you, shaking his head disapprovingly. “Either you paint my nails white or you don’t paint my nails at all.” He said, using his pointer finger to accentuate the gravity of his words.

“Fine, fine.” You store all the polishes away, leaving you with his plain white color. You take the polish and lead him to your desk where he sits on the chair. You grab your own chair and sit in front of him.

“Put your hands on the desk.” You instruct as you shook the nail polish. Miguel places both hands on your desk, splaying his fingers apart. “You promise you won’t peel the polish off afterward?”

Miguel sighs. “I promise.”

“Do you pinky promise?” You popped up your pinky, waiting for Miguel to wrap his pinky around yours to seal the deal.

A small smile is slightly visible on his lips. He hooked his pinky with yours, sealing the promise tightly. “I pinky promise.”

You beamed happily, twisting open the polish. “Okay! That’s good to hear.” You pull out the brush and sweep it against the edge, removing any excess paint. You motion Miguel to move his hands a little closer to you. He complies with a slight huff and you begin to paint his nails.

You’d occasionally have to slap his hand to tell him to stop moving. He claimed that the brush tickled him but you didn’t believe him. It got to the point where you had to give him a 5-minute break between each coat. He found your complaints entertaining, you assumed he was acting that way just to mess with you.

“Oh, it’s starting to tickle. I need my five-minute break.” He already started to move his hand away but before he could escape, you caught his wrist with your other hand and pinned it back down to the desk. “I haven’t even finished!” You whined out, kicking his leg playfully under the desk. “You’re literally doing this on purpose, Pa.”

“I’m not.” You would’ve bought his whole act if you didn’t look at his face. His huge smirk gave it all way. You rolled your eyes, focusing back on his nails. “Give it up.”

A snort could be heard from Miguel at your response.

After a few more coats and fanning, you finally finished his nails. “I’m done!” You cheered. “What do you think?”

Miguel looked at his nails, nodding his head slowly in an approving matter. “Not bad.” He flexes his fingers, looking genuinely happy with his nails. You shook your head affectionately.

“See! And to think you were throwing a whole fit about it not too long ago.” You tease, twisting the polish closed. “I should give you French tips next time.” You got up from your chair and placed the polish back where it belonged.

“There isn’t going to be a next time.” He said.

There was a next time.

#across the spiderverse #into the spider verse #spiderman across the spiderverse #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara x daughter!reader #atsv miguel #miguel x you #miguel o’hara x daughter! reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x teen! reader #miguel o’hara x teen!reader #miguel o’hara fic #miguel o’hara x kid!reader #miguel o’hara x reader platonic #miguel o’hara x y/n

[klausysworld]

hi can you make headcanons about yandere Elijah mikaelson

Yandere Elijah Mikaelson:

Elijah is known to be a gentleman, a feminist and respectful of peoples personal space and stays out of others business

That was true…well until he saw you. He couldn’t help himself okay? It’s not his fault, you were the one who had to walk in with that perfect smile, an angelic laugh, the way your eyes lit up when you spoke to your friend. Your friend who was clearly not good enough for you.

He could be though, Elijah knew he could be everything for you, he could cook for you, clean for you, be there for you, keep you safe, love you.

Look his family take advantage of him, you were a great distraction, something to lighten up his day

Following you around was the highlight of his day.

He both hated and loved your apartment, you had such big windows, he could always see you, when you sat and watched tv, read a book, baked something, came out the shower in your tiny little towel, got changed in the mornings and evenings, when you did your yoga poses and showed him just how flexible you could be

He couldn’t help but think of you when he was alone, your body sprawled across his bed, bent over his desk, your beck on display so he could sink his teeth in. He couldn’t stop the thoughts of you, it’s not his fault you were so enticing, he had to help himself feel some sort of relief okay?

He ‘bumped into you’ in a coffee shop, you spilt your drink all over his expensive suit, you were mortified and began wiping his chest with a cloth but he reached up and held you hand to him and told you it was fine and kissed the back of your hand.

Each time you saw him it was purely coincidental and you always apologised for your first meeting and everytime he would assure you it was perfectly fine, he didn’t like that tie anyway.

He enjoyed how bad you felt, how shy you were because you didn’t want to embarrass yourself again, how you apologised with big eyes and pouty lips, he felt powerful.

When he asked you on a date you were a blushing mess, he wanted to go out with you?

Of course you said yes and he took you to the most expensive restaurant you had ever known, he payed despite your efforts of argument even though you probably couldn’t afford it and he knew you couldn’t because he kept an eye on your bank accounts and what you bought, where you went etc

He met your friends and he did not like them. They took your kindness for granted, who did they think they were? The way one of their hands would squeeze your arm, you should not be touched by anyone but him.

Once you invited him in he took advantage of that, watching you sleep, occasionally laying with you when you were in too deep to wake up, stroke you cheek and kiss your lips faintly, he would go through your drawers and rearrange your clothes. You were far too messy, he could help with that.

Whenever you asked him to come over he would arrive with flowers and a kiss on the cheek, he would subtly tidy your apartment bit by bit and he would offer to cook for you, he was a literal dream! who wouldn’t want a man who would do all the things that most would expect you to do

Your apartment was big and spacious, it had a lovely view, he understood why you liked the windows but he did buy you some curtains though because you really shouldn’t appear so vulnerable in the open.

Elijah actually moved in with you instead of you in with him. It meant you didn’t have to be around his family, nobody would be able to take him from you and he could pay your rent. You wouldn’t feel like he was taking you away from your life but he could still isolate you in your own space.

He loves to do your hair, it’s one of his favourite things, having his fingers on your scalp while you make the cutest little moans of pleasure without realising it has him shifting in his seat.

Your neck is his drug, he lives with his face buried in your neck, breathing your scent, sucking your skin, whispering dirty things behind your ear.

You’re his innocent little darling that he needs to protect and if that means dipping into his predatory side then he will.

Hands will be torn from peoples arms if they touch you, heart will be lots as well as heads. You never witness these things and you probably don’t know they happen, maybe you’re suspicious? who knows?

Elijah to you is your prince charming, he swoops in and saves the day, he is sweet and feels like home, he loves you and you know that, he wants to marry you, have a life with you and giving up a few things shouldn’t be that hard if he is your prize, right?

#elijah mikealson imagine #elijah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson smut #elijah mikaelson fluff #elijah mikaelson headcannons #elijah tvd #tvd elijah #tvd icons #tvdedit #tvd smut #tvd universe #tvd klaus #tvd imagine #klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson one shot #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaleson imagine #klaus michaelson #klaus mikealson fanfiction #the originals #klaus m #klaus mikaelson x y/n #niklaus imagines #the vampire diares imagine #kol mikaelson #the vampire diaries #klaus mikaelson fluff #klaus mikaelson headcanon #hope mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson

[jebewonmorelike]

Dark Blue On You

wc: 7k (HAHAHA WHAT) pronouns: none used; n/a warnings: swearing, angsty with a happy ending but its funny/fluffy too, mentions of others drinking, mentions of hooking up; think pg-13 for this one; also taerae in that suit should be a warning in and of itself warnings for spicy cut scene: MINORS DNI!!!-- mature/suggestive/smut themes-- MINORS SKIP THIS CUT SCENE AND CONTINUE READING BELOW IT!!! (fic makes perfect sense without it) linked here and linked in fic for correct placement in story summary: bestfriend!reader is so excited when the star of the soccer team finally asks them to prom. but when losercore!taerae asks his lab partner to prom out of the blue, reader's sudden jealousy takes them by surprise... basically the prom-themed best friends to lovers of your dreams, okay? okay :) ~masterlist~ ♡ ~kofi (no pressure at all)~ GUYS! HI! it's been so long. i missed you! this was 7,000 words (plus the cut scene) so i'm sorry but that's why it took so long. was also feeling a bit rundown in terms of writing so i really needed to pace myself. but i saw those pictures of taerae in that suit and i swear to god i'm a different person now, so this is the fic you get from that brainrot. also not sure if the suit was actually blue, but that's how it looked in the pics so i ran with it. SO many fun things happening in the zb1 world in the past few days! let me know what you think of this one :) love you sm

“If you steal one more of my sweet potato fries (Y/N), I swear I’m gonna--.”

You pop the orange-colored french fry into your mouth, grinning at Taerae smugly. “You’re gonna what?”

Eyes narrowed at you through dorky, wire-framed glasses, your best friend pouts annoyedly. “One day you’ll fear my wrath.”

“Wouldn’t count on it,” you respond with a giggle. Despite his angry demeanor, Taerae turns his lunch tray so that the sweet potato fries are now facing you-- giving you easier access to one of your favorite snacks.

“You could just go back up and get your own, you know,” he persists with his performance even as he squeezes more ketchup onto his tray for you to dip the fries in. “What would you do without me?”

“Sarcastic answer: finally achieve a peaceful existence,” you joke, popping another fry into your mouth. “Serious answer... I’d be lost without you.”

You watch as Taerae’s glasses fog up a bit; the way they always did when he received a compliment or you were being a bit too sincere with him. He takes them off quickly, clearing his throat as he wipes the lenses with the hem of his polo shirt.

A pile of books slam down onto your lunch table as your friend Dohyun plops onto the bench beside you. “(Y/N)! Just the person I wanted to talk to.”

“Do you ever talk to anyone else?” You quip, earning a glare from the skinny boy.

“I talk to Taerae hyung, too,” he mumbles. You glance at your best friend, noticing how quiet he’s gotten all of a sudden. “And I like him better than you anyway.”

You shrug. “That makes two of us.”

“What I was going to ask you is,” Dohyun starts; pulling out his lunchbox from his backpack and opening it up. “Has Ryan asked you to prom yet?”

Taerae audibly gulps from across the table. You frown at him, wondering why he’s acting so weird.

“No,” you answer softly. “He hasn’t. And I definitely don’t think he’s going to anymore.”

“I don’t know what you saw in Ryan anyway,” Dohyun says, shaking his head disapprovingly. “He only wanted one thing from you.”

Taerae chokes on his apple juice suddenly and you take the carton from his hand-- placing it back on the table pointedly as he coughs into his elbow. 

“That’s enough, Dohyun,” you scold. “And for the record, I’m as pure as the day you met me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” the younger boy laughs. “So… Are you gonna go to prom alone, or?”

“I don’t know,” you sigh. “I already bought my outfit. I had it altered to fit perfectly, so I don’t really think I can return it at this point.”

“I’m sorry, (Y/N),” Taerae says finally. “I know you were really looking forward to going with Ryan. He’s gonna regret not asking you. But um...”

Your brow furrows as you wait for Taerae to continue his sentence. He’s looking at you kind of funny now-- eyes wide and anxious.

“Well, if you already have an outfit and stuff, I was thinking that... Um...” You watch curiously as he bends over to his side and begins shuffling through his backpack. “Fuck, where is it?”

“Hey, (Y/N)!” Someone suddenly calls behind you. Your head whips around to find Ryan walking towards your lunch table, his signature charming smirk on his lips. He’s carrying a duffel bag over his shoulder for soccer practice as he lands in front of you.

“Hi Ryan,” you greet sweetly, brain turning to mush. You’d first met the star of the soccer team officially when your Math teacher assigned you to tutor him a few months ago. He’d been in serious jeopardy of being kicked off the team for his failing grades, but with an hour of tutoring every other day, you’d helped him climb back up to a solid C+. The afternoon he received his first unit test grade since you’d started tutoring him, he had been thrilled to see B- circled in red at the top of the page... 

So thrilled, in fact, that he’d kissed you at your back corner table in the library.

And he’d kept kissing you. For the rest of that tutoring session... And then the one after that... And the one after that... And the one after that until your meetings had become more of a hybrid tutoring-and-make-out session.

That had been the extent of your “relationship” though. He was always busy with soccer and his meathead friends and ogling popular girls at the library tables next to you when your faces weren’t connected.

But he was the first boy to ever pay attention to you like this-- and he was so handsome to boot. The attention and the fantasy muddied every intelligent and rational thought in your brain. Even if you were being used, you weren’t really ready for it to stop.

One day as you were approaching the library, you stopped in your tracks as you heard Ryan’s voice around the corner. He was talking to one of his jock friends and you held your breath as you attempted to hear their conversation.

“All of the cheerleaders already have dates, dude,” Ryan’s friend relays. “Why did you wait so long?”

Ryan was silent for a moment before responding, “Even Steph?”

“Even Steph,” his friend confirmed. “Injun asked her yesterday.”

“Damnit.”

“Well, you’ve gotta go with somebody,” his friend urged. “Tyler’s parents are letting us use their lake house for the after party, so... Who’re you gonna ask!?”

“I’ll... I’ll find somebody,” Ryan responded and you heard the door to the library begin to squeak open.

“Hopefully somebody that’s gonna put out,” his friend joked and Ryan laughed along.

It was from that moment that you’d gotten it in your head that there was a chance that Ryan might ask you to prom. You’d gone shopping with your mom to pick out the perfect outfit, booked an appointment to get your hair styled for the occasion, and called a florist to purchase a boutonniere to pin on Ryan’s suit that matched your outfit.

As you’d doodled your name next to Ryan’s in your journal and decorated it with hearts one evening last week, your best friend Taerae laid on your bed-- legs dangling off the side as he strummed his guitar.

“(Y/N)...” He sang suddenly in an improvised melody. “Put down your pen... It’s getting annoying... So please tell me when...”

You turned around and glared at him, but he continued.

“You’ll stop your obsession... With that asshole named Ryan... He hasn’t even asked you to prom yet, what if he doesn’t ask you, your heart is gonna break and I’m gonna have to pick up the pieces and glue them all together again and--.”

“None of that rhymed.”

“Lyrics don’t have to rhyme for them to hold meaning,” Taerae responded, arms flopping onto the bed in a T-position dramatically. “I’m worried about you. I think this guy might be taking advantage of you.”

“At least someone wants to,” you joked, but the levity didn’t quite reach your voice. Taerae sat up abruptly; eyes fixing on you for a long moment. Finally, he sighed and pulled his guitar strap over his head-- placing the instrument beside him. 

“A lot of people want to take advantage of you, (Y/N).”

Your jaw dropped as you watched Taerae realize what he just said. He’d already begun shaking his head and waving his arms about profusely by the time a smile crept onto your face.

“NOT WHAT I MEANT!” He shouted frantically and the sheer panic on his face was enough to make you burst out laughing. At the sound of your laughter, Taerae couldn’t help but grin and the appearance of his deep dimples was admittedly comforting to you. “You already knew that’s not what I meant but... I’m just trying to tell you he’s not the only guy that likes you.”

Your brow furrowed curiously. “Who else likes me?”

“Oh, uh,” Taerae stuttered nervously, averting your gaze. “Lots of guys. Other guys. Girls, too, probably. And nonbinary folk, I’m sure.”

You nodded, unconvinced. “Well all of those other people are gonna have to fight Ryan for my attention, I guess.”

Taerae gulped. “Right.”

“Now shut up, loser,” you said, spinning back around in your desk chair. “I’m trying to name me and Ryan’s fourth child.”

Now as Ryan stands in front of you, he glances at your only two friends that are also sitting at your lunch table. “Hey nerds.”

Taerae mumbles something under his breath but you aren’t paying him any attention. 

“I’ll pick you up at 7, yeah?” Ryan asks suddenly, nodding at you.

Your lips part slightly in confusion. “What?”

“Tomorrow,” he responds brusquely. “Prom.”

“You--... We--... Us? Prom?” You know that gibberish is falling out of your mouth, but your ability to form a coherent sentence has flown out the window.

Ryan gives you an impatient smile. Of course he has every right to be impatient, you think. I can’t even speak well enough to answer his question. “Yeah. Text me your address.”

“We were actually gonna take photos at (Y/N)’s house beforehand,” Dohyun interjects.

Ryan frowns. “Oh. Yeah, okay. I can do that.”

“Really? That’s so nice of you; you don’t have to if you don’t want to!” You say quickly, grinning up at the tall boy.

“Nah, that’s cool. I’ll be there. See you then,” Ryan says with a smile before taking off towards the other end of the cafeteria. His smile is enough to burst your heart-- but lucky for you (and your poor friends), you’re able to muster up enough strength to keep living.

Instead, you merely scream; keeping your mouth closed to muffle the sound. When you finally return to the world around you, you suddenly notice how silent your friends are. 

“What?” You ask, frowning at Dohyun. “Why aren’t you guys excited?”

You turn to Taerae, who is holding a large piece of folded up paper in his hands. “What’s that?”

Snatching it from his hands, Taerae immediately lunges across the table in a panic to grab it back from you. Dohyun also swoops in to steal the paper, but both of their efforts are in vain as you swivel around to face the opposite direction and open what appears to be a poster.

🌸🌺🌸 Will you go to prom with me? 🌸🌺🌸

“OH MY GOD!” You squeal, whipping back around to face your best friend. He rips the poster from your hands and begins folding it back up, cheeks turning red. “You’re asking someone to prom!? WHO!?”

“Oh thank god: you’re an idiot,” Dohyun mumbles, sinking back into his seat.

Your brow furrows confusedly. “Huh?”

“Nothing,” Taerae answers quickly. “No one said anything.”

“Taerae, if you don’t tell me who you’re asking to prom right now, I swear I’m gonna--.”

“MOLLY!” He shouts suddenly, eyes wide as he stares over your shoulder. You turn around to follow his gaze, spotting Taerae’s lab partner, Molly, a few tables behind you. She smiles when she hears Taerae call her name, getting up from her seat and walking over to your table.

“Hi Taerae,” she greets cheerfully, curly short hair bouncing with every step. The very smart, but sometimes obnoxious girl is blinking at your best friend nervously... Holy shit. Had Molly had a crush on Taerae this whole time and you hadn’t noticed?

More importantly... Had Taerae had a crush on her?

“Hi Molly, um... I was wondering,” he starts; his delivery of this promposal a little unprepared. That’s weird, you think. If Taerae was gonna ask someone out, I’m sure he would’ve rehearsed it in the mirror until he lost his voice…

“Dude,” Dohyun interrupts suddenly, eyes wide as he looks at Taerae.

Taerae just ignores him, clearing his throat and starting again; unfolding his poster onto the table once more. “I was wondering, actually, if you’d maybe like to possibly-- and no pressure or anything, maybe someone’s already asked you, but...”

“OH MY GOD! Of course I’ll go to prom with you,” Molly exclaims, throwing her arms around Taerae. You watch as he freezes, never one for accepting public affection from anyone he didn’t know well...

From anyone except you.

You frown at the bizarrely jealous thought. Taerae obviously liked this girl. Just last week, he’d been complaining about her chewing too loud in the computer lab, but maybe he was just trying to cover up his real feelings. Taerae deserved to be happy. 

Any boy that would make a whole poster just to ask someone to prom deserved to be happy. You sigh as you study the poster in front of you. I wish Ryan had made me a poster...

As Taerae starts to fold it back up, you notice some surrounding doodles that you had been too distracted to see before. All around the border of the poster are what appear to be light pink Royal Azaleas.

Your favorite flower. 

Had Taerae really used your favorite flower to decorate his promposal for someone else? How could he?

“Stop it!” You say out loud, earning a weird look from all three of the people surrounding you. You smile awkwardly, trying to laugh off your unintentional angry outburst at your own thoughts. “I mean... Stop being so cute you guys!”

Molly grins. “Text me where to meet you tomorrow! I can’t wait.”

Taerae nods quickly as Molly skips back to her own lunch table. As soon as she’s gone, he lets out a huge sigh and you hear the clamoring of his glasses as his head falls to the table.

“But this is amazing, Tae,” you say, staring at the top of Taerae’s head as his forehead rests on the surface of the lunch table. He lifts up for a second, folding his arms and laying his right cheek back down on top of them. His hair falls messily in his eyes, unkempt and fluffy as it usually is. But the sudden urge to brush it out of his face takes you by surprise. “I didn’t know you were going to ask Molly to prom today.”

Dohyun snorts from beside you, now totally engrossed in the game he’s playing on his phone:

“Neither did he.”

~~~

“(Y/N), come down here! We need to take pictures before you leave,” your mother calls from downstairs. “We’re gonna head outside so please hurry up and join us!”

You’re staring at yourself in the mirror, anxiety building. Nearly everything about your appearance for tonight is perfect-- your hair, your skin, your outfit; even your shoes. Your friends and family are in your front yard waiting for you.

But all you can think about is how Ryan hasn’t shown up yet.

You’d texted him your address. Told him what time to come over. And now he’s already thirty minutes late. You’d have to leave soon to get to the school on time. 

“Where is he?” You whisper to yourself, grabbing your phone from your bed and checking your notifications again. Nothing.

“(Y/N), if you don’t get your ass down here right now!” The voice that’s calling you now is Taerae’s. His threat is angry enough that it makes you move-- opening the door to your room and walking to the top of the stairs. 

Taerae is furiously typing on his phone as you make your way down the stairs, his back turned to you. He’s wearing a dark blue suit-- slim-fitting and tailored to him perfectly. When you reach the second to last step, you clear your throat.

Your best friend looks up at you now, eyes wide as he takes in your appearance. His hair is pushed back, still fluffy but out of his face. You’re surprised to find yourself thinking that he looks very handsome. You blink away the thought as you continue to study Taerae-- eventually realizing that something is missing.

“No glasses?” You ask, waiting for him to respond. When he doesn’t, you prompt him again. “Taerae?”

“Oh, uh,” he begins to reply finally, shaking his head as if to clear his mind. “Yeah, just for tonight. My mom... thought it would look nice.”

“Your mom is right,” you say, smiling softly at him. “She usually is though.”

“You’re perfect,” Taerae says suddenly; eyebrows shooting up when he realizes what he just said. “I mean, you look perfectly ready to go and take pictures! And then go to prom. And stuff. You know? Like, you look perfect. Well--... You--... Um--...”

He’s rambling now and you don’t blame him. Your whole lives, you and Taerae had maintained a friendship without most pleasantries a normal friendship might have. Your affection towards each other usually came in the form of play-fighting, insults, sharing sweet potato fries at lunch, and other subtle acts of service. Only when one of you was having a particularly hard day would the other offer a hug or hand to hold or words of affirmation. You and Taerae were so close that normal affection usually seemed pretty arbitrary. 

So this compliment from Taerae, even if it was unintentional is... different.

You swallow hard, averting your best friend’s gaze. “So do you.”

Brushing past him, you open the front door and step out onto your porch-- Taerae following behind you after a moment. You check your phone again for any texts from Ryan.

“He’s a prick, (Y/N),” Taerae says softly, as you continue to stare at your phone screen-- willing your eyes not to water. “Don’t let him ruin this for you. This was all your idea. You wanted to go to prom. You wanted to take pictures beforehand. Why are you letting this guy totally fuck up your night?”

Your eyes meet Taerae’s. He’s right and you know it. Ryan couldn’t care less about you and it was evident in the way he’d asked you (or rather, told you that you were going with him) to prom-- and the way he hadn’t shown up on time to your house. In fact, the whole day you’d been consumed by two feelings: the first being obsession over whether or not Ryan would like your outfit, your hair, your parents, your house...

The second being that deep down, in the pit of your stomach, you were filled with regret about your fixation these past couple of months on the soccer star. Even Taerae had made a nice poster for Molly. Not that he’d even bothered to tell you that he was asking her. And not that you cared what Taerae did or didn’t do for people he liked.

Right?

“Tae, I--.”

“Taerae!” A chipper voice calls from around the corner. Molly appears at the bottom of the porch steps, motioning for your best friend to come down. “Come take pictures! You too, (Y/N). Just because your prom date’s a bust, doesn’t mean you can steal mine!”

Your jaw drops slightly in shock. “I wasn’t--... That’s not--...”

“Chop, chop!” Molly says, walking back over to where all of your parents are standing-- Dohyun in the middle of them, talking their ears off. 

Not wanting any more accusations being hurled at you on your own property, you give Taerae a quick shrug before following her out onto the lawn.

~

You’re sitting in the passenger seat of Ryan’s red sports car now as he parks in the school lot. He’d finally shown up two minutes before you were about to have to hop into Taerae’s car and ride in the backseat behind him and his date. Your mom, who was making no attempt to hide her displeasure, was able to snap a quick few photos of you before you left.

Ryan turns off the car, stuffing his keys in his right pocket before leaning back again into his seat. He’s staring at you and you’re not really sure how to respond. You reach for the door latch, but you feel his hand touch your left arm before you can open it.

You identify the look in his eyes right away-- he wants to kiss you. Come to think of it, you hadn’t kissed Ryan in over a week. You’d been busy with an essay and had to cancel your “tutoring sessions”. Usually, the idea would excite you. But tonight, it almost made your stomach turn.

A knock on your window startles you and you look over to find Taerae smiling at you-- more than a hint of annoyance in his eyes.

Ryan rolls down your window. “Dude, what are you--?”

“(Y/N) really wants to go to prom with you,” he replies, opening your door for you. You hop out immediately, grateful for the interference. “So you can save whatever you’re gonna do for later.”

You don’t look back at Ryan, walking as quickly as you can towards the front doors of the school. Eventually, Ryan, Taerae and Molly all catch up to you as you walk through the entranceway.

A beautiful balloon arch greets you as you enter the gym, fairy lights and vintage streamers lining every inch of the walls. It’s exactly as you’d imagined-- the prom of your dreams.

“JORDAN!” Ryan shouts suddenly from behind you, almost knocking you down as he runs to greet one of his stupid jock friends. 

You start to fall, but a pair of hands are already on your shoulders to keep you upright. “Thanks,” you mumble as Taerae pushes you through the balloon arch and towards the open floor.

“Where do you wanna sit, Taerae?” Molly asks, smiling at him expectantly. “I’m sure (Y/N) is gonna go sit with Ryan.”

You glance back to where Ryan had run off to, finding him completely surrounded by his many popular friends. You turn back to Molly and Taerae, forcing yourself to nod. 

“You should sit with us,” Taerae says, the pity in his eyes growing more embarrassing every minute. You aren’t going to ruin his night with Molly. You just couldn’t do that to your best friend.

Shaking your head, you try to smile reassuringly. “I’ll be fine.”

“(Y/N)...”

“You guys have fun! I’ll see you in a bit,” you call, wandering off to a table in the opposite corner. Once you take your seat, it’s as if you’ve been glued to it permanently.

You watch all of your peers rush to the dance floor, laugh together, embrace each other... Not once does Ryan ever come find you. But you know deep down that you sort of deserve it. How had you been so obsessed with one boy asking you to prom and ended up being the only person here having such a miserable time?

You should never have come. Or you should have come alone. Or with Taerae.

Taerae...

Your eyes rest on your best friend, who is sitting with Molly at their table. He’s leaning back comfortably in his chair; navy blue suit contrasting perfectly with his light olive skin. His smile is bright and pretty-- why the hell does he look so pretty tonight? 

Is he having fun with Molly? Is he thinking about me?

Almost as if he’s heard your thought, Taerae’s eyes meet yours. The smile on his face instantly fades to an expression of concern and you hate it. You want him to smile at you like he was just smiling at Molly. 

But why would he smile at you like that? He likes Molly.

Not you.

Your phone buzzes in your hand and you look at the screen to find a message from Taerae.

Are you okay??

You look back up at him, deciding to nod and give him a thumbs up-- hoping for that dimpled smile to return to his face. It doesn’t.

(Y/N), please just come over here You’re breaking my heart

Learning that you sitting alone in a corner is ruining Taerae’s prom experience is not what you needed to hear. Pressing your lips together awkwardly, you nod slowly at him; starting to stand up from your chair to go talk to him for a bit.

But you stop in your tracks when you watch Molly grab Taerae’s hand and pull him up out of his chair. She’s trying to tug him towards the dance floor-- his eyes widening in panic as they remain locked on you.

You wave him on, trying your best to smile at him. You feel your lip quiver and you hope he doesn’t notice from the other end of the gym. Taerae reluctantly stops resisting Molly and joins her on the dance floor after giving you another regretful look.

“Heyyyy (Y/N),” a voice slurs in your ear now, an arm wrapping around you from behind. You look up to find Ryan, smiling goofily back at you. He’s piss drunk, of course.

“Hi,” you say shortly, attempting to wiggle out of his hold but the alcohol hasn’t lessened his strength. “Can you let go, please?”

“Why would I do that?” He asks rhetorically, tequila coating his breath. “You’re my date.”

“Am I?” You spit, finally breaking free of his grip. “I couldn’t tell.”

He frowns. “What do you want? Do you want to dance or something? We can dance.”

“I want to go home,” you respond, glaring at him. “I don’t want to be here anymore.”

With that, you’re walking past Ryan and through the balloon arch out of the gym. It’s not until you’re standing in the hallway that you hear a set of footsteps following you.

You turn around to find Ryan standing behind you, a small silver flask in hand. “What are you doing?”

“Taking you home,” he answers, unscrewing the top off the flask and taking a sip. “You said you wanted to go home.”

“Are you kidding me?” You ask, eyes wide with shock. “You’re drunk. You’re not getting behind the wheel like this.”

He shrugs. “I’m really good at it! I do it all the time.”

“Holy shit,” you whisper, shaking your head at him in awe. “You fucking suck, you know that?”

His brow furrows in confusion. “What? What do you mean?”

“I mean,” you start, jaw setting in anger. “You’ve ignored me all night. You didn’t show up at my house on time to take pictures. You tried to skip prom to makeout with me in your car. Not to mention, you didn’t even ask me to prom. You told me yesterday that you would pick me up tonight. And now you want to drive me home and you can’t even stand up straight!?

Ryan stares at you for a long moment before the corner of his mouth turns up in a smirk. “Are you playing hard to get?”

You sigh exasperatedly. “You already got me! I was literally eating out of your palm for two whole months. I can’t believe I let myself be so stupid... Now I never want to see you ever again!”

He frowns. “It’s because of that Taeri kid, isn’t it?”

“What? No, no--...” It’s at that moment that you look back into the gym, spotting your best friend dancing with his date. He looks so stupid; he might even be the worst dancer you’ve ever met. So why does the sight of him make your heart swell? “His name’s Taerae. And he’s my best friend. That apparently likes someone else and never told me.”

You turn back to Ryan to find him staring back at you, wide-eyed. “Damn,” he says, shaking his head. “You’re in love with your weird friend.”

“I am not!” You protest, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “And he’s not weird, he’s just... Okay, yeah he’s weird. But the good kind of weird.”

“Wow. Denial much?” He says, laughing.

Your brow furrows curiously. “Why are you so okay with this? Weren’t you just asking me if I was playing hard to get?”

“It’s cool. You guys would probably make a better match anyway,” he responds with a shrug. “Plus I already hooked up with Steph in the bathroom, so I’m all set for the night if I have to be.”

You sigh, shaking your head in awe of the absolute dickhead standing in front of you. Turning on your heel and walking towards the exit doors, you mumble, “Goodnight, Ryan.”

“Goodnight, (Y/N),” he calls after you, far too cheerily. “Tell him! Or that girl’s gonna snatch him right up. Have you seen the way she’s been looking at him all night?”

Yeah. I have.

~

It had been a decent night for Taerae. Molly had turned out to be a good enough prom date. They talked about their science project most of the night, but he hadn’t really known what else to say. Besides, he was far too distracted to have any sort of real conversation when he’d been keeping at least one eye on you the whole night.

The pain he felt watching you sit alone at an empty table-- scrolling through your phone, tears rolling down your cheek periodically when you thought no one was watching you.

But Taerae was watching you. How could he not be when the most beautiful person in the room was his best friend?

Of course the one time he’d taken his eyes off you, you’d gone missing.

So far, he’d checked the buffet table, the photobooth, the hallway... He’d even knocked on the bathroom door (and received a very annoyed response from whoever was inside). But you were nowhere to be found.

That’s when he spots Ryan. The star of the soccer team is sitting down at the end of the bathroom hallway, back leaned against a locker. Taerae runs up to him frantically, smelling the liquor on his breath from six feet away.

“Where’s (Y/N)!?” Taerae shouts, shaking Ryan’s shoulders when he doesn’t answer.

The tall boy groans. “How should I know?”

“Because (Y/N)’s your date?  Don’t you have any idea where your fucking date is!?”

“Jesus, chill out. This is why I said you were weird,” Ryan mumbles, slurring his words. “(Y/N) went home already.”

“What?” Taerae asks, mind racing. “Did you say something? Did you do something? Did you put your hands on--?”

“Probably, yeah. I don’t remember,” he responds, pointing up at Taerae. “But I thought (Y/N) was gonna tell you. I said to tell you so that that girl... doesn’t...”

Before he can finish his entirely incoherent sentence, Ryan has slumped over onto his side and fallen asleep. 

“Tell me what?” Taerae asks; attempting to shake him awake. But it’s no use. “For christ’s sake...”

He turns around, about to run back towards the gym, but instead he comes face to face with his own prom date.

“Oh, Molly, I--,” he starts, but the girl in front of him cuts him off quickly.

“Go,” she says simply, the knowing smile on her face confirming to Taerae that she’s well aware of what’s going on. “Go get (Y/N).”

Taerae sighs. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. This is not cool of me at all.”

“No, it’s not,” Molly says with a laugh. “But I knew you liked (Y/N) the whole time. Once Dohyun opens his mouth, it’s hard to get him to shut it.”

Taerae smiles. “I always knew Dohyun would spill all my secrets one day.”

Molly shrugs. “It’s okay actually. Because tonight made me realize I kind of like Dohyun way more than you anyway. He’s more my type. He actually laughs at my chemistry jokes.”

“Oh, uh,” Taerae falters, eyebrows raising in shock. Dohyun? More her type? Taerae didn’t know that Dohyun was anyone’s type. Not that Taerae thought he was anyone’s type either. “Yeah, I guess I’m more of a biology guy.”

Molly hums. “Do you think you could put in a good word for me then?”

“Yeah,” he agrees, nodding absentmindedly. “Yeah, sure.”

“No hard feelings, then?” Molly asks, smiling up at him.

“No, none at all, I guess,” Taerae agrees-- though the entirely absurd thought of someone using him to get to Dohyun is still eating away at the back of his brain. “You’re okay if I leave now? Do you have a ride home?”

Molly nods happily. “I’ll see you on Monday! Don’t forget the Chapter 13 exam,” she says, walking back down the hallway towards the gym.

 “And tell me how it goes with (Y/N)!”

~

You’re face down on your bed, having flopped there in a puddle of tears as soon as you’d gotten home and changed into your pajamas. Your dad had picked you up and you’d driven home in uncomfortable silence apart from your quiet sniffling. You’re currently subsisting on an entirely separate plane of existence-- one with excessive tears and nothing else.

But a rattling at your window startles you, causing you to jump up to see what’s making the sound. You’re even more startled when you realize that the sound is actually that of Taerae fiddling with the latch on your window frame.

You run to the window, unlocking the latch and pushing it open. You whisper-shout at your idiotic best friend, “What the fuck are you doing!?”

“Remember when I used to do this when I lived next door? Before we moved?” He replies, completely out of breath and barely managing to hang onto the vines of ivy running down the side of your house. 

“Taerae, you moved when we were ten years old! You weighed at least 30 kilograms less than you do now. Are you crazy!?” Grabbing onto his arms and pulling him through the window, he lands with an ungracious thud on your bedroom floor.

“Huh,” he says, panting to catch his breath as he lies flat out on his back on your beige carpet. “I used to be in really good shape then. Maybe I should start working out.”

You sit down next to him, your back leaning against the side of your bed. You look at the right leg of his suit pants, finding a wet spot on the knee. He must’ve fallen before he successfully climbed up to your window.

He looks just as pretty lying here like this as he had all night-- only now, he looks a bit more like the Taerae you were used to. His hair had fallen into his eyes a bit more and he must’ve switched out his contact lenses for his glasses on his way here. Maybe your best friend had always been this beautiful... Maybe you’d just never taken the time to notice before.

Your eyes widen suddenly. “Taerae, what are you doing here? Where’s Molly?”

He sighs annoyedly. “Ask Dohyun.”

“What?” You ask, brow furrowing in confusion. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Never mind,” he says, rolling his eyes. “It’s a long story.”

You frown. “Prom isn’t even over yet. Why did you leave?”

“Because Ryan told me you left,” he answers, finally sitting up to look at you. “I needed to make sure you were okay.”

“Well, you could’ve texted me,” you respond, looking around you for your phone.

Taerae points to your desk and you turn to see your phone sitting on the corner of it. “You weren’t answering.”

“Oh,” you say softly, eyes falling to your lap. “I guess I wasn’t.”

“Look at me,” Taerae requests suddenly and you reluctantly oblige. You know you must look absolutely insane. Hair out of place, eyes red and puffy and face blotchy from crying. He smiles at you sadly again, just like he had been the whole night. “I know you’re not okay. You can be upset. You know I won’t judge you.”

His words are all you need for the tears to start flowing again. In less than a second, Taerae’s arms have wrapped around you; holding you tightly in his embrace. It’s comforting, but at the same time it’s not. Not if he knew the real reason you’d been crying so much.

“He doesn’t deserve you, (Y/N),” he says, hand finding its way to the back of your head to pet your hair. “I’m so, so sorry that he treated you this way. He was never worth your time.”

You swallow back your tears, before pulling away from Taerae. Your arms still tangled up with his, you say finally, “I know.”

He stares at you for a moment before that sad smile returns. “You should know. I’m glad that you know. He doesn’t deserve any of your tears.”

“They’re not for him.” The truth falls from your lips before you can chicken out. You brace for the instant regret that should come with saying these words, but it doesn’t come. Instead, you feel the beginnings of relief.

Taerae’s head tilts to the side questioningly. “What--... What do you mean?”

Your bottom lip tucks between your teeth and you bite it hard to dissolve the anxiety in your chest. “I wasn’t crying over him.”

“Oh...” He says softly, utter confusion written all over his face. “So... You... Okay, no, I don’t get it.”

Of course Taerae didn’t get it. He had a wonderful night with the girl he likes. And the person who’d ruined it for him was you.

“Oh, I just remembered that Ryan said you wanted to tell me something?” Taerae says, brow furrowed curiously. “Or that he told you to tell me something? I dunno. He wasn’t making much sense right before he passed out.”

“I like someone else,” you blurt; the rush of adrenaline causing you to stand up and find something to busy yourself with before your nails dig holes into your palms. You walk over to your record player, turning it on and dropping the needle on whatever album is already loaded. When the sound flows from the speakers, you realize it’s an R&B album you picked up from a vintage thrift shop across town last week. 

Taerae stands up, too-- recognizing the tension in your voice. “You do?”

You nod, avoiding his gaze. “Mmhmm.”

“That’s... That’s great, (Y/N),” he encourages, but there’s a hint of reluctance in his voice. “I just hope whoever it is, they’re much nicer to you.”

“He’s really nice to me, actually,” you confirm, finally turning around to look at Taerae again. You catch a glimpse of sadness in his eyes before he shifts his focus  down to the floor.

It’s now or never.

“Even when I steal his sweet potato fries.”

There’s a lag in his response. It takes a full ten seconds for Taerae to look up at you and, when he does, his eyes are wide and his lips are parted in shock. He’s so silent that you’re suddenly sure you’ve made a terrible mistake.

You clear your throat awkwardly. “I’m really sorry; maybe I shouldn’t’ve said that. I know you like Molly and I’m sorry you left prom early to check on me and I know I’ve been so annoying these past couple months and maybe it’s not fair of me to say any of this but when you made that poster for her and it had those Royal Azaleas on it-- that’s my favorite flower, how could you do that, you insensitive piece of--.”

For the last couple moments of your insane rambling, Taerae had been stepping towards you-- closing the gap between you and him quickly before finally cupping your face in his hands and connecting your lips in a particularly unskilled kiss.

When he pulls back, he’s blinking at you with innocent eyes; a blush heating his cheeks.

“Was that your first kiss?” You ask, a small smile turning up the corners of your lips. Taerae’s bottom lip has found its way between his teeth and he’s biting it hard to alleviate his nervous energy; hands dropping to his sides. He just nods in response.

Your right hand raises to his jaw now; left hand resting on his shoulder. Pulling him in to kiss you again, you say softly, “Just follow me for a second.”

When your lips are on Taerae’s again, you squeeze his shoulder gently to get him to relax. He responds to this, letting you lead until he feels confident enough to match you. And once he does...

You’re ready to kick yourself for not falling for him sooner.

“It was for you,” he says softly in between kisses. “I made it for you.”

You pull back to look at him. “What?”

“The poster. The promposal,” Taerae clarifies. “It had your favorite flowers on it, because it was for you.”

Your eyebrows raise as the truth sinks in. Taerae had been trying to ask you to prom yesterday; that’s why he was acting so weird. And Dohyun had obviously been enlisted to help.

“You wanted to go so badly,” he explains. “I know not with me, but I just wanted to try and make you happy anyway.”

A sad laugh escapes you. “Tell me honestly: why are you letting me confess to you right now? Do I really deserve it after all I must’ve put you through?”

Taerae shakes his head. “You definitely don’t,” he affirms before grinning at you. Finally those perfect dimples are on display just for you. “But I’m such a sucker for you. Those sweet potato fries only cost a dollar, you know?”

“I know,” you whisper, grabbing the collar of his navy suit jacket and pulling him in once more. You kiss him sweetly and his arms snake their way around your waist in response. “They just taste better coming from your tray.”

“I don’t even like them,” he says, kissing you again; a smirk on his lips. “I just get them so you’ll steal them from me.”

~

*** 🌶️ INSERT SPICY CUT SCENE HERE -- MINORS DNI -- CONTINUE READING BELOW FOR ENDING (and read below after finishing cut scene) 🌶️ ***

~

“(Y/N)?”

Your mother calling you from the other side of your door jolts you, sending you and Taerae scrambling off each other on your bed-- where you haven’t really let each other breathe for the past twenty minutes.

“If Taerae’s sleeping over, can you tell him to turn his headlights off, please?” That’s all your mom says before her footsteps travel back down the stairs; a hint of a smirk in her voice.

Taerae’s eyes widen, his hands searching his pockets for his keys. When he doesn’t find them, he smiles at you sheepishly. “Oops.”

“So stealthy of you,” you tease, hitting his chest lightly as you attempt to catch your breath. He grabs your hand, pulling you back into him and reattaching your lips. Before your mind goes blank again, you pull back. “Go turn your car off!”

“Fine,” he sighs, annoyedly. Pushing himself up off the bed with his hands, he finally stands up and walks towards the window. “Here I go. Just like you asked.”

You walk over to him, grabbing his shoulders from behind and turning him towards your bedroom door. “No more scaling buildings for tonight, King Kong.”

“Really? King Kong? Couldn’t have said something sexier like Spiderman or?”

Before he reaches for the doorknob, you turn him back to face you. Raising up on your toes cutely, you press one more kiss to his lips. “I just don’t really like spiders.”

“That’s right,” he says, palm cupping your cheek. “Giant gorilla it is, then.”

“Now go turn your car off so we can get back to what we were doing...”

Taerae’s hand flies to the doorknob; throwing the door open and running to the stairs as fast as he possibly can. 

Just before he disappears down the stairs, he turns back to you-- pounding his chest with his fists lightly like the cutest, lamest gorilla to ever exist.

“This idiot,” you whisper, shaking your head.

I must really love him.

#zerobaseone #zerobaseone x reader #zerobaseone taerae #zerobaseone fics #zerobaseone angst #zerobaseone fluff #zerobaseone imagines #zerobaseone drabbles #zerobase1 #zb1 #zb1 imagines #zb1 fics #zb1 angst #zb1 fluff #zb1 drabbles #zb1 taerae #kim taerae #kim tae rae #kim taerae fics #kim taerae imagines #kim taerae drabbles #kim taerae fluff #kim taerae angst #kim taerae x reader #taerae x reader #taerae #taerae fluff #taerae angst #taerae imagines #taerae drabbles

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

Sweet Music Playing In The Dark (Be Still, My Foolish Heart) [ Part Four ]

[ Part 1 ] [ Part 2 ] [ Part 3 ]

{ I'm 100% not writing these in chronological order. I just write them as the ideas come and they don't come in order of the story. Just in moments inspired by the songs. Hopefully y'all still enjoy them!!! Cuz i really love this little story. Even though it's like a little patchwork quilt of a thing. 💛💙💛 }

🍒🍒🍒

They've been together for a bit. Their relationship is still private. For the most part. But they're very publicly friends. Always together and laughing and adorable. But in private, they're dating. Taking it slow. Cuz touring life is bonkers and they're both busy writing and doing their music.

But Eddie starts seeing some shit from Steve's fans. Like, an oddly puritanical little sub group. That the other fans are always like "no thank you. Please don't associate with us OR steve please." And They've been posting things about eddie "corrupting" steve and saying shit like, "Eddie's making him go down a path he'd never choose on his own".

And that Eddie's a cult leader and indoctrinating steve. And some even say shit about robin and chrissy too. That they're like, Eddie's cult wives. And they sent him some of those comments and Chrissy was like,

"Robin's gagging. She loves you. But she's gagging." And Eddie laughs so hard he almost falls out of his chair. But he takes the comments and shows Steve.

Because he is not social media guy. He's never on there. And he reads some of them and just keeps frowning and frowning and eddie just curls into his side and is like,

"hey. Its okay. I don't care that they're saying that. I play up the cult thing. You know that." Steve did know that. Loved it. Bought Eddie a shirt that said "cult leader" on it. It's a pink crop top and Eddie adores it. It's his favorite shirt. But steve is like,

"some of these are really mean Ed's." Some of them even mentioned Nancy and how she was so good for steve and so pure and blah blah blah. Eddie snorts VERY loud at that, says,

"did they miss her cheating on you? Just ignoring that are they?" And steve frowns more, says,

"that was never really said publicly." And Eddie's takes his hand, laces their fingers together and says,

"People know Steve. They saw through her. Okay? Just like I did. Your real fans love you. And some of them even love me now." He says, cheeky glint in his eyes. And then he's smiling too, all big and sharp and Steve's like,

"i know that face... what are you planning?" And he's already almost smiling himself, knows its gonna be good. And eddie just wiggles his eyebrows, says,

"I had this idea... for a video. And the idea wasn't originally to have YOU in the video. But I've been thinking, since reading all that shit. That maybe we should have some fun." He leans closer, presses soft kisses to Steve's cheek, the corner of his mouth.

"What did you have in mind?" Steve asks, his eyes closing as he sighs into Eddie's soft touches. Eddie hums, kisses him again, nuzzles into his cheek and kisses down his neck. Pushes steve into his couch and tells him all about it.

~°~

What Eddie had in mind, was this. First, he, Steve, robin, and chrissy are all gonna be in the video. And the CC boys, playing in the background.

Eddie has a warehouse that he bought to make his videos, and others videos, and he does band photoshoots there sometimes. Has done several for Robin and Chrissy and a few for some other artists he's friends with. He loves doing weird little videos with just his friends.

So they go there, the set is literally just a ton of white cloth drapped everywhere. White on white on white. The band is playing all white instruments, the background is white velvet curtains.

Chrissy is in a beautiful white dress. Perfect and pristine, her hair all done with curls, her nails a pretty pearl. Robin's in a snug white suit. Waistcoat and all. Her hair slicked back.

Steve is in fancy white dress pants, a white tank under an open white shirt sleeved button down, Eddie let him do whatever he wanted with his hair, its neat and swoopy and perfect. The CC boys are all in matching white mechanic jumpsuits, white lines painted across their eyes.

Eddie had told them all the required colors and let them dress how they wanted. Told them what would be happening to the clothes too, so they knew.

And Eddie, he's in black skinny jeans, ripped at the knees, and is favorite pink crop top, CULT LEADER, printed in black across his chest in bold letters.

Steve can't take his eyes off him. Eddie makes his rounds, making sure everything is ready. And then walks up to Steve.

"You sure you wanna do this?" He asks, hands on Steve's hips as Chrissy and Robin lean against each other as they wait. Steve just stares at him, bites his lip, and nods.

"Yeah. Let's do this." His eyes are full of excitement and Eddie matches it, his cheeks dimpling as he nods.

They release the video a week later.

~°~

The video opens with Eddie and the band just silhouetted against the background. The music plays and the lights come up when Eddie claps twice and he starts singing, moving and jumping in place to the beat. And when he says,

"is this what you wanted?" The camera jump cuts to Steve and Robin and Chrissy all standing off to the side, stock still, looking a bit like they're in a trance as they answer,

"no!" Eddie sings,

"you want some more?" And they all turn in unison to look at him when they answer,

"yes" and then the lights go up even more, the bright white around them all, their clothes, the velvet, all of it seeming to shimmer as they dance around, moving closer and closer to Eddie as he sings. Eddie looks directly into the camera when he sings,

"who's keeping score?" And then the chorus hits and his attention is all on steve, his hand moving up Steve's neck as he sings,

"cuz youve got a taste now." And steve leans into his touch, looking helpless to it. Robin does the same to chrissy,  her and Eddie in synch as they draw in their partners, touching them and moving with them as Eddie sings about no one loving him like he loves him, steve smirking, his eyes closed, letting eddie touch and move him however he likes, and then Eddie sings,

"but you should've known, that this was gonna end in tears" and "blood" starts falling on them all, red stains blooming across the sea of white, all their clothes bleeding red as Eddie screams the next parts. Steve and the girls jumping and dancing and singing in the bloodrain, Eddie crooks his finger at steve when he sings,

"now come here and give me a hug" and steve saunters over, his hair dripping red as he falls into Eddie's arms. Eddie lowers him to the ground for the next part, his fingers moving and dancing across Steve's throat as he sings,

"i got my hands around your throat. I love way you choke." He dips down further, his lips brushing Steve's as he looks up at eddie, adoration in his eyes, both of them dripping blood as eddie sings,

"Cause i am yours and you are mine, I'll never let you go" right against Steve's lips, and Steve fucking arches into it, his palms flat on the gound.

Chrissy and Robin are fucking waltzing through the blood behind them, their feet kicking at the puddles of blood they glide through, moving across the "stage" as the camera pans after them, capturing the CC boys as well, all of them stained red, their instruments dripping and splashing as they play their hearts out. .

And then eddie is standing, singing the verse again as he moves his hands over steve, and Steve moves with his hands, like a puppet under Eddie's control, dancing and rolling in the blood on the floor. And then Eddie screams,

"GET THE FUCK UP" and steve is on his feet in an instant. Dancing and spinning through the guitar solo until it stops and he freezes, making like he's going to fall back to the floor before Eddie catches him in his arms.

Steve straightens, Eddie spins him and he and drapes himself over Eddie's back, Chrissy does the same to Robin behind them. Steve's hands moving over Eddie's chest and up his neck languidly, slow, with a purpose, dragging his hands through the blood thats covering them all now, Chrissy drops her head back onto Robin's shoulder as Robin tucks her arm loosly around her neck. Eddie stares straight at steve when he sings,

"nobody love you like i love you, oh my dear." And then they both drop their gazes to the camera, looking right at the audience as eddie sings and then screams,

"you should have known. This was gonna end in tears." Steve dropping his chin on Eddie's shoulder as he mirrors Robin's hold on Chrissy.

Eddie's voice goes quiet at the end, him and steve and the girls genlty swaying as the blood falling drenches them, their clothes and everything around them soaked a dark red now.

Eddie and Steve all tangled together just like Robin and Chrissy as the screen fades to black. And just before you loose sight of them all you can see them all laughing together right before Steve tightens his hold on Eddie's neck and pulls him into a kiss.

~°~

They release the video and all their fans go fucking NUTS. Partially because Eddie posted it and captioned it,

"hey. Me and my boyfriend made you guys something." And he puts a little kissy emoji. And everyone FREAKS out. And of course the purity people show up and start being like,

"see! See! His shirt even says it! He's a cult leader!" And people start saying steve looks drugged. Which eddie immediately shuts down and blocks them. But the CCboys go into the comments, cuz they're tired of it. They love steve, and eddie. And them together. And they're like,

"y'all realize they made this video BECAUSE of you nutballs right???" and chrissy and robin just respond to their comment with,

"right???" And like fifteen laughing emojis.

And steve and eddie just turn off their phones and eddie tugs steve into bed and they lay there, just breathing together. And steve nuzzles into his chest and smiles and says,

"at least most of the blood came out of your shirt." Eddie hums, moves his fingers into Steve's hair and says,

"i knew it would. Just a little darker now." He presses a kiss into Steve's hair too, for good measure. Steve wraps his arm tighter around eddie, cuddles closer, whispers,

"just like me." And kisses Eddie's chest as he laughs, tugs on Steve's hair so that Steve's looking up at him and says,

"just like you. Dark and corrupted. Just the way i like you." Eddie teases, both of them laughing into their kiss as Steve drapes himself over Eddie.

When they turn their phones back on they're met by several croped headlines sent to them, and marked up and memed, by Chrissy and Robin. Followed by a text that says,

"congratulations on the big gay announcement! Thanks for letting us be a part of it!" Followed by every single heart emoji they could find and a few edits of themselves with hearts for eyes.

They laugh so hard steve snorts into Eddie's shoulder and eddie almost chokes on the chocolate chip pancakes steve had made him.

Eddie had corrupted him into making breakfast in bed. If only his fans fucking knew.

#sweet music #sweet music part four #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #rockstar!eddie munson #musician!steve harrington #mine #my writing #my fic #Spotify

[amaretigris]

My Little Mermaid

A/n: A lovely friend of mine had this cute idea for a Prince Eric fic. Enjoy! 💙

Taglist: @hopeisrising @mylittlemermaid221 @notagreekgal28 @daydreamerwithnohobbies @freyagallileaevans @justagirlthatlovedtoread @luna2034

༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄

1k words | Pure fluff

༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄

It was a bright, sunny Sardinian morning. You observed the rays bouncing off the water as you walked down the beach, and made your way to the castle. You wondered what Eric would want to do on such a beautiful day. Padding up the stairway, you shook the sand from your sandals at the very top. You entered the castle's kitchen on your way to Eric's study. You froze when you passed the pantry, and saw a familiar flash of blue. You took a step back, and peaked your head around the corner.

"Eric?"

Eric startled, almost dropping the loaf of bread in his hands. He turned around with a tinge of pink painting his cheeks.

"(Y/N), I wasn't expecting you so early."

You smiled and leaned against the doorframe.

"I woke up a little earlier than usual. It's a lovely day. What's the prince doing in the pantry?"

You loved teasing him.

"Erm, I was packing us a picnic," Eric shyly cut his eyes away from yours.

"A picnic? Eric, that sounds wonderful," you gushed.

Your reaction made Eric smile.

"I'm surprised that the prince is packing his own basket. The staff couldn't do it for you?"

Eric waved his hand, turning back around to continue packing your meal.

"There's no need. I'm perfectly capable," he muttered.

"I thought we could go down by the lagoon, to the little dock and clearing there. It's a peaceful spot."

You nodded, walking up to hook your chin over Eric's shoulder.

"That's a perfect spot."

"Oh, there is something else. I thought maybe we could take a dip in the lagoon..."

Eric trailed off, and stilled his hands. He turned to look at your face that was a mere inch or two from his.

"I don't have a suit for that," you laughed.

"I asked Lashana to pick up a swimsuit for you this morning."

Your eyes went wide.

"Eric, you know I can't swim-"

Eric turned to face you, gently grabbing your hands.

"Hey, it's okay. It will just be the two of us today. No one else, and no distractions. I can teach you. We can take it nice and easy," he soothed.

Your eyes danced between his sky blue ones. You were never taught to swim, so you had always been a little afraid of the water. It was a good thing you trusted this man with your life.

"Okay. I will try, for you, but I cannot promise that I'll get it," you acquiesced.

Eric hugged you to him, smelling the intoxicating aroma of your hair.

"I only want you to try, my love."

༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄

You held Eric's hand as the two of you walked to the lagoon. You were a little anxious, but you had changed into the modest one piece that Lashana bought you from the market. It was the perfect size. You carried a small woven rug for the two of you to sit on while Eric carried the picnic basket. It was filled to the brim with bread, ham, cheese, fruit, and even a little wine.

You were happy to be out on such a pretty day, but you couldn't tamp down the nervousness that bit at your belly. You had previously told Eric that you wanted to face your fear of the water; only you didn't expect it to be today. By the time you and Eric set up your little picnic by the lagoon, however, you decided to quell your worries about the water, and enjoy the delicious lunch that he had packed for you. You laughed and talked with Eric as you ate, even laying down and watching the clouds and birds for a bit after your meal. Eric tangled his fingers in yours.

"Are you ready?"

You inhaled sharply. You were as ready as you'd ever be.

"Yes, I'm ready."

You sat up to kick off your sandals. You stood to peel off your dress, revealing the one piece underneath. Eric stood to shed his clothes beside you, leaving him in only his boxers. His eyes traveled from the tips of your toes all the way up to your face before he flashed his dimples.

"You're beautiful, (Y/N)," he gushed.

Grabbing your hand in his, Eric led you towards the edge of the water. Slowly stepping in, you felt your skin erupt with goosebumps as you adjusted to the temperature. At least the water was warm. Wading in further, with Eric still guiding you, you bit your lip in concentration. You had never submerged yourself higher than thigh level.

"Hey, keep your eyes on me," Eric cooed.

You immediately focused on him, losing yourself in those hypnotic blue pools. Before you realized it, you were almost shoulder deep in the water. Looking down, you gasped. Eric's arms stretched out to pull you closer to his chest.

"It's alright. You're doing so well, darling. Do you want to try holding your breath and dipping your head under? I'm not going anywhere. I've got you," he assured.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. You needed to overcome this childish fear. Nodding in determination, you planted your feet, and sucked in a big breath. Still holding Eric's hand, you closed your eyes, and slowly lowered your head under. The ringing in your ears was drowned out by the sudden silence of the water. You sat like that, still, underwater, for a few moments. The tranquility shocked you. Bringing your head back up for air, you slicked your hair back, and looked to Eric.

"It's so calm down there," you sounded astonished.

Eric smiled at you, cupping his hand to your cheek.

"It is. Water can be powerful and destructive, but it can also be tranquil and healing. That's why I've always loved it. That's why I want you to love it, too," Eric skimmed his fingers up your arms.

You nodded in understanding.

"Here, why don't we try to have you swim to me? I'm not going far, I promise," Eric chuckled at your slightly panicked expression.

He moved just a few feet away from you, encouraging you to go under, and kick your feet. It only took you a couple of tries to get the hang of it. In another half hour, you were confidently diving under, and swimming alongside Eric. The two of you swam a little longer before getting out of the water, hand in hand.

"See, you're practically a mermaid, (Y/N). My little mermaid," Eric smiled.

#the little mermaid 2023 #jonah hauer king #prince eric #prince eric x reader #prince eric imagine #prince eric fanfiction #prince eric x y/n #prince eric x you #prince eric x fem!reader #my stuff

[silversweetpea]

Fresco Feelings

word count:2792

summary: It seems silly to make a birthday present for someone that you never met, its less silly to give someone that loved them something to remember them by.

warnings: Peter talks about May and is a little sad but that’s about the worst of it.

authors note: I love the idea of secret messages in public and i’m also constantly obsessed with the secret language of flowers. Both of these have combined into a problem which I could only solve by way of writing a quiet little gift giving fic for pete. Can be read as romantic or platonic because I'm still not sure exactly how old Pete is in Canon and I'm not comfy writing explicitly romantic stories for him when I'm an adult and he's a minor 😅 

❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀✿

“You hoping a spray a day will keep the doctor away?” Unexpected voices should startle you, but it’s hard to be scared of the one good guy swinging around your city. You pause in your detail work of the mural of Doctor Strange to look over your shoulder at Spiderman.

“Worth a shot, right? What’s up webs?” The vigilante sits on the lid of the dumpster behind you, legs swinging slightly where they hang over the edge. He looks casual but given how cold out it is you’re sure the guy is freezing his ass off through that thin costume of his. 

“Nothing much, it’s slow tonight.” You already know that, there’s a police scanner in your pocket that you use to keep up to date on how close you are to getting caught. Something bought from pure practicality and which had no relation to the colorful man behind you and trying to figure out if he was being safe in the city. 

“So are you going to arrest me then?” It wouldn’t be hard. Your hands and jeans are covered in the exact same shades as the cans rolling about your feet. The smell of spray paint lingered in your clothes like perfume and while you hadn’t signed the artwork you’d have a hard time keeping a straight face if they asked you what you thought about it.

Hell, this wasn’t even the first time he had caught you. You had lost count of how many times the hero had dropped down from the sky to critic your line art or help you come up with a better punchline to attach to it. This wasn’t one of your funniest pieces, more for the kids that passed the area on the way to school than to make a statement. 

“Nah, it’s not that slow. Not to mention that last time I tried to help with bringing in a case of vandalism I accidentally stepped into some family drama and it just wasn’t worth the hassle.” There’s a wince in his words, a scrunch of his face and shoulders that you can see from the corner of your eye as you pick up painting again. 

“So what you’re telling me is I have free reign over my alleys?”

“Don’t push it, like I said, it’s been slow.” His laugh is a nice sound even if its quieter than normal. In fact, the longer you listen to him and the more you speak to him the clearer it becomes that something is off. Maybe its just the cold of the dumpster?

“Okay, I think that’s about it for Strange.” The mural is painted in messy strokes and colorful blocks, the wizard sitting in one chair reading a newspaper with a towel wrapped about his head and a hand reaching through a portal which connects just next to him to a Starbucks cup on a counter. No need for a caption, too dangerous to sign your name when you poke fun at heroes so much. The cans are easy to gather and throw into your backpack and the whole while Spiderman sits quietly and watches you. 

You can see your breathe in the air as you turn to face him again and its unsettling to see how still he is. The vigilante’s eyes are hidden from the suit he wore but his posture is rigid and focused entirely on the mural you had just finished. He doesn’t move until you cough and tilt your head ever so slightly towards the exit in an unspoken question and even then Spiderman’s steps are quiet when they join yours in walking down the street.

“Do you know him?” The vigilante jumps just a bit at the unexpected question, an endearing sort of move. It takes him another minute to realize what you’re asking and by the time he speaks again, voice shaky from some emotion you can’t puzzle out with your brain so cold, you’ve reached the last location for the night. 

Well, in honest the Strange mural was supposed to be the only mural for the night but you’d been eyeing this side of a building for a while and Spiderman didn’t seem to want to be alone. You didn’t want to be alone either. 

“I used to.” The only noise other than his voice is the shaking of a can of paint. You’re far enough from the main streets that traffic is distant and everyone in the apartment buildings down the street are full of citizens either sleeping or pretending to so they don’t draw attention to themselves. “He seems strict but he means well.”

“Well he can mean well far away from me. Those portals of his freak me out.” You see the mask move, just a ghost of an expression beneath it but combined with the quiet exhale of breath its nice to pretend that he’s smiling. 

“You freak me out.” The comment holds no weight when he holds the can you hand him while you grab the next. Time passes slowly, like syrup dripping from a bottle. The blue is a shade brighter than you’d like, but with the red its still recognizable.

“So what’s really going on Webs?” He jumps again. It’s not as endearing this time but whatever trance he had fallen into is broken enough for him to hand you the red again. “I know I’m a delight to be around and all but if you sit any longer I’m going to be forced to ask you to help with this color blocking.”

“It’s my aunt’s birthday today.” Spiderman’s voice is small and there’s a morose tone about it that makes you uncomfortable. It wouldn’t if he were daredevil or hawkeye even but to hear your friendly neighborhood hero - because fuck the cops he was more of a hero than they were - sets your nerves on edge. 

Still, you don’t look at him, just keep pushing forwards with your art like you’ve always done.

“Oh, that’s great how old is she?” The silence is enough of an answer in and of itself. Spiderman stands just a touch too still next to you and the careful casualty of your companionship slips away when you’re not looking. His breath is quiet in the night but his sigh is not. The puddle at his feet ripples when the vigilante shifts, just enough movement for you to nod in assurance that you understood.

The silence ends up winding its way around the two of you like an affectionate cat may your ankles. The gentle hush of wind scraping over cement could be mistaken for a half hearted purr as Spiderman watches you pick up a can of green paint and begin to work again. 

“Do you want to talk about her?” He makes a bit of a startled noise, but doesn’t jump. Progress is progress you suppose. “I mean, I never met her so anything you wanted to share would be news to me.”

“I don’t know.” It never gets easier to see a hero casual, watch him turn his back to the wall you’re working on and lean against it like he’d just slipped out for a cigarette. It’s your turn to hum then, pausing in your work long enough to look where he’s curled his shoulders in, tucked his head down to his chest. 

The man feels cold when you rest your hand on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to webs, but if you wanted to reminisce on something happy I’d love to know about her. You could talk about her favorite flowers or your inside jokes. Talk about that annoying quirk of hers that you hated but miss now that she’s gone.” The words are soft as silk when you drape them on his shoulders. “I won’t push if you really don’t want to talk about it, but if you want someone to listen I’m in no hurry.”

Spiderman swallows hard, looks up at the sky, and speaks.

“She loved yellow Hibiscus flowers.” His voice sounds younger then it ever has. It’s easy to forget sometimes that he’s not much older than you are, that he just started showing up in the city a few years ago. 

“Really?” If the man doesn’t like your hand on his shoulder he’s made no move to voice his displeasure. The streetlights catch on the two of you and the cans of paint but not enough for you to make out an expression through the fabric with which to help direct your response. The careful curiosity seems the right choice though given he starts to speak again.

“Yeah, always tried to grow them on the windowsill of our apartment but a week into their lives they would start to wilt.” When he moves to crouch down you follow and your hand seems glued to the fabric for the amount of effort it takes you to pull it back to yourself. 

“Did it ever occur to you guys that the flowers might be wilting because they’re tropical plants and we’re in new york?” Somewhere in the distance a dog barks and it almost covers the noise of amusement that Spiderman lets out. 

“No I usually just blamed it on her cooking.” A picture starts to take shape as he speaks with fondness. One filled with warmth and color that fostered his sense of humor and likely his sense of right and wrong at the same time. “The landlord threatened to remove our fire alarms if she set them off one more time.”

“But I’ll bet she was funny, right?” You don’t say that she had to have been because she was related to the web head, that might be too personal. If there was one thing that Spiderman had made clear in his visits and talks with you it was that as friendly as he was he didn’t do personal very well. 

“She certainly thought she was.” The fragility is back and you’re sure that if you could see his face you would find a far off look in his eyes.

“Well so do you and your humor is hit or miss so-”

“Hey!” you’re rewarded for your humor with a gentle knocking of his shoulder against yours and an almost normal tone again. It had seemed right at the time to ask about his aunt but now grief had started to slip its way between your ribs. If not grief for her, than grief on Spiderman’s behalf. Grief at family lost, love unexpressed. You knew something about that last one in particular. 

You stand up first. It’s hard to sit with the pressure creeping in on your heart. The vigilante remains crouched at your feet as you go back to spraying colors onto the wall. light blues and yellows that look nothing short of flat compared to the shaded blobs of green. 

“What are you painting?” His voice isn’t as warm as usual but it’s better than when he made his doctor strange joke. 

“You’ll see.”

“I hate when you say that.” This time he rises and moves to stand behind you. If he had the urge to he could rest his head on your shoulder and watch you work you can feel his presence so close. You try not to think about what gloved hands would feel like on your hip or wrapped around your waist as you worked.

“Oh come on, I stand by my artwork.” There’s a crack in your voice as you try to focus on shaping the colors into something more recognizable. If the hero catches it he thankfully does not mention it.

“I know you do, you repainted the same Steve Rogers joke five times.” Spiderman’s teasing is enough to break the fluster that had taken hold of you. When you look over your shoulder at him, can in hand, you’re certain that he’s smiling back at you.

“I would have stopped at three if they hadn’t put it in the papers.” He laughs again and it sounds even better than before, smaller than usual but no less kind. He hadn’t followed you as you worked until a few pieces after that but apparently the hero had found an equal amount of amusement in the comparison of Rodgers to some sort of turtle. 

“I’ll let the bugle know next time I see them.” You turn back to your work and finally begin to do the outlining on the center of the piece. It used to make you nervous to start adding final touching with an audience but it was hard to sit still with webs so close to you. 

“Oh yeah that’ll go over well.” You murmur, “spider-menance consorts with local vandal. God he hates you.”

“Don’t remind me.” The man groans and then he does drop his head to rest on your shoulder, hiding his face in the material of your hoodie as his hands rest on your upper arms. It’s nothing more than a dramatic overreaction to thinking about the bugle, you know that logically. Your heart, however, does not and has ceased to beat at all at the sudden contact.

“Hey can I ask you a question?” You speak near instantly, desperate to distract him from the point of contact he was making with you and he way that even through the material of his mask and your hoodie you could feel the slope of his nose, could start to imagine what he may look like.

“Uhm, yeah?” the hero raises his head enough to rest just his chin on your shoulder, hands still loose on your upper arms. There’s a hesitance in his voice that makes you worried he’s going to pull away. 

“What?”

“Are you sleeping with that photographer that keeps taking your photo?” There’s a sputtering of noise that escapes him and when he does step back it’s clearly in shock. You miss his touch, but you take some sliver of delusional comfort in the idea that he felt comfortable to rest on you in the first place.

“That Peter something, he takes all the photos of you for the bugle? The internet is convinced you two are sleeping together since he’s the only one that can get you in any half decent shots.” It’s not the question most people would ask but it seems to have been the right choice again. You’d love to ask what he does for a living or to hear more about his aunt but it’s good to hear him laugh and stumble over his words like this was any other night.

“You have one of those?” There’s no glance over your shoulder but you’re certain that he does that familiar headshake that lets you know you’ve amused him but he doesn’t want you to know that. For someone with a mask, he’s always seemed like an open book. 

“No, no.” Not to mention that it means you can stop figuring out if you need to contact the photographer to try and weasle information out of him. There are so many landmines in conversation you don't realize are there until you've already stepped on them. “I mean don’t get me wrong I have nothing against the guy he’s just not my type. I only let him take photos because he always catches my good side.”

“Okay that’s it, I’m leaving.” The bulk of the painting is done enough for the hero to know that he’s made his way onto the wall again, but you’ve avoided doing the detail work on his surroundings. The same parts of you that feel deflated at his exit also take comfort in knowing that he’ll be surprised tomorrow when he sees the finished work. 

“Stay safe out there, okay?” Is all you can manage. You like to think that he hears the unspoken I care about you. I’m sorry for your loss. I hope you know that I’m here for you.

“Safe is my middle name,” His footsteps are slow as he moves down the street. “Make sure you head home soon, okay? If you get sick they might take the opportunity to paint over Steve again.”

“They wouldn’t dare.” His laugh disappears into the night far slower than he does. Long after the red and blue figure has slipped into the dark of night you can still hear it in your head, rich and real as it settles in you.

You hear it again in your head when the photos of your newest mural begin to circulate online. Including a particularly well shot photo by Peter Parker and an opening sentence by a writer you don’t care about aside from the fact that they misspell the scientific names for the hibiscus flowers and forget me nots that you so carefully detailed in the night. 

#Peter Parker x reader #Spiderman x reader #Peter Parker x you #Spiderman x you #Peter Parker fluff #Spiderman fluff #Peter Parker imagines

[silovsmenot]

Family Skate | Artūrs Šilovs

Requested by anon…

i love ur writing sm.... what if i suggest an imagine where reader and Arturs go on a skate date, like at an ice rink or something, and he teaches reader how to skate. i think that would be really cute idk that man is soooo beautiful and i want to hold his hand

WARNINGS: As usual, this is just pure fluff. PAIRING: Artūrs Šilovs x f!reader. NOTES: I would sell my soul to hold his hand, ngl. I haven't proof read this, so hopefully no major issues. WORD COUNT: 1792

The closing of the season was bittersweet. The team had fought so hard, but with the 3-2 loss in game seven, the Canucks were eliminated from the playoffs. You’d sat and comforted Artūrs all night, barely sleeping as he sat silently and over-thought every decision and move he made in that game.

The loss was nowhere near his fault, but he blamed himself — as would many of the guys, if you’d have to guess. The wives and girlfriends group chat was quiet for the first time in weeks, only the occasional message coming through about how proud each of the partners was of the players. Messages that you showed to Arty, but nothing could draw him out of his slump.

The next day was not easy, nor the day after that. All of the guys were second-guessing themselves and speaking little of what happened. The press-conference came and went, Arty and the boys answering every question that came their way with the lingering dark clouds above their head. But there was a light on the horizon, something that you knew that Arty was looking forward to — whether he’d admit it or not.

It was no secret that you couldn’t skate. Sure, you could stand on skates and, with knees bent and arms clinging to the side, you could shuffle around the boards. But that wasn’t exactly what you’d call skating. Artūrs had long spoken about taking you to the rink when things were quiet, of teaching you to skate and you were excited for the day.

And with the season now over, and the ice days from being lifted, the Canucks organisation would put on their annual private family skate. It would be your first with the team, and while you’d met and become close with the majority of the other wives and girlfriends, it was a daunting idea.

You’d smiled from ear to ear the night before when Art had appeared in the living room of the small condo beside the Rogers Arena with a pair of skates in your size. He’d had them sharpened and made ready all without you knowing that evening — if he was honest, it was a good escape from the weight that still rested upon him. And the sight of your smile was enough to lift a large amount of the sadness.

Unsurprisingly you were the first pair to enter the rink that morning, the short commute from the condo to the family area taking you only about five minutes with skates in one hand and the Latvian goalie claiming the other.

Weaving through doors, he held open the Canucks changing room door for you and followed close behind. There, you paused for a moment — even now, it looked so empty. It came with a solemn feeling in your chest, but the names were still above the stalls and you spotted his  name quickly. Art sat you down first, kneeling at your feet as he worked the laces of the new skates.

“Does that feel okay?” 

You quickly nodded in response, hands clasping yours as you pulled onto your feet. You wobbled lightly, but could stand. He led you a few steps, then back and finally nodded in success.

“They suit you.” Art whispered as he leaned in close, planting a tender kiss upon your cheek which still bought a pink flush to your cheeks. He always told you that you looked beautiful, and you’d never tire of hearing it. 

You stayed standing as he sat to tie his own laces, shifting on your feet to get to grips with the feeling — turning to smile and wave as the door would open for the first flood of players and their partners. Teddy Blueger and Monique were the first to come in your direction, Teddy giving you a playful and light nudge with a hand ready to catch if you stumbled. Both Teddy and Artūrs were quick to grab hands and pull into hugs, exchanging fast words in their native language while Monique rolled her eyes lightly to you.

“And they’re off.” She teased in a hushed voice, pulling you with her to sit. The changing room would soon buzz with life, and with the bare stalls, it was a welcome change. It wasn’t right when it was quiet and bare.

Bodies soon began filing down the corridor toward the ice, the busy chatter filling the silence nicely as you and Artūrs would intertwine fingers once more. It felt strange to him now, walking down the tunnel to an empty ice rink. Of course, it was no different to training, but everything had ended so abruptly… It still hadn’t quite sunk in for him.

But whatever he was thinking, he hid it well from you — the smile still firmly glued to his lips as he watched your face light up.

“Just take it slow, Art.” You quietly said as you neared the ice, your boyfriend stepping onto the ice without hesitation or any kind of shift to his stance. This was just like walking to him, but to you? You weren’t so sure.

He offered a second hand, ready to guide and balance you as soon as you stepped out onto the ice. With a steadying breath, you took the step — perhaps a little eager as your skates attempted to slip from beneath you immediately, the hands of Artūrs rescuing you before you lost your blades.

The soft sound of his laughter followed instantly, and it was so contagious to you. Any sense of embarrassment was lost in his laugh, the first signs of actual joy on his face since game seven. You didn’t care that it was at your expense, you were just so relieved to see it. And the fluttering would instantly return to your stomach.

“Are you alright?” He spoke through calming laughter, pulling you close to him with a soft thud of bodies. There, he could hold you tight as he made slow skating motions backwards. He wouldn’t spare a glance over his shoulder for he was too enraptured by your gaze, slightly shaken up but still entirely captivated by him.

“I’m fine, just go slow.”

And he would from that moment. You’d had your near-tumble-experience, and that was enough for him. He held both of your hands, skating backwards as you struggled on forwards. He’d give you tips with every movement, bending your knees, not leaning forward, keeping your head up and so many more. You were struggling to keep a note of each tip, but you were comfortable within his hands — Artūrs wouldn’t let you fall.

With every lap of the large rink, you felt more comfortable. The Latvian goalie gave a little raise of his brow as you released one of his hands, to skate side-by-side with a little confidence. You were less step-skating now, and more gliding. He was certainly pulling you along, but you were trying and he was thriving on the sight of you trying your best with this.

“Keep your knees bent, push forward with your skate — yes, just like that.” He encouraged with each passing moment, grin growing exponentially as you were doing well. 

Artūrs was a pretty good teacher and an even better balancing point. He did a good job of distracting you from everyone else around, skating with ease or children stumbling and giggling. You were in your little skating world with him, the occasional squeeze of your hand as silent encouragement from him.

You were enjoying yourself. Even when he released your hand with a playful wiggle of his brows, skating backwards in front of you, just out of reach — the look of mischief clear upon his face.

“Artūrs, come back here. Please!” You cried out through the lingering laughter, the confidence leaving your motion instantly. Your gliding movements turned back to awkward step-skating, with hands outstretched for him which only served to have you leaning forward.

“Straighten up, y/n.” He calmly said, stopping himself before you. He was close enough to grab you if you fell, but far enough that you couldn’t just hold onto him. “You can do it.”

You weren’t sure if you could, but you concluded that there was no harm in trying — as long as he caught you. You didn’t want the bruises.

Another heavy, steadying breath parted your lips as you straightened up. Your hands at your sides as you took the first step, pushing your bladed foot forward as he’d taught you. You clenched your eyes shut, half expecting the tumble into his arms or the ice, but you drifted. So you took the second step, skating gliding forward — you took the next step, and the next, until you were skating alone.

Artūrs looked simply triumphant as he watched you, weaving backward without even lifting his skates. He didn’t even try to hide the pride on his face from you as you sheepishly laughed to yourself, hands balled as you stopped yourself from dancing (knowing you’d definitely go tumbling with that).

“You’re a natural, y/n. Want to join the team?” The voice of Jack Hughes shouted as he neared, shooting a cheeky wink in your direction and was gone as quickly as he appeared. You batted his hands away with a dramatic swatting of your hand, gaze playfully narrowing in a glare toward him which only served to make the captain laugh.

Almost as soon as you were getting truly confident with it, the session was over. The honking of the zamboni turning all heads, and the rink staff standing ready at the gate. Couples and families were quick to file off the ice, till it was only you and Art making your way toward the nearest gate. He waited on the other side, hand ready to support you as you’d make the first step off the ice.

In comparison to your step onto the ice, you did it with grace. There was no tumble this time. And as they often did, fingers tangled together at the first touch of his hand — the smiles immediately upon both faces.

“Did you enjoy that?” Art was quick to ask. Your head nodding swiftly and truthfully. “You did really well, I’m very proud of you.”

You simply melted to hear him say that. And you’d only melt further as he leaned down, pulling you into him as lips would collide. His free hand softly playing with the strands of your hair, you could feel how he smiled into the kiss and it was intoxicating.

“Come on, lovebirds — we’re going for a drink!” A voice shouted from down the corridor, abruptly breaking the kiss with a shared laugh. You raised a hand to acknowledge the shout, foreheads resting together as you simply revelled in the moment together.

#arturs silovs #my baby goalie #silovs #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl oneshot #arturs silovs x reader #nhl x reader #arturs silovs x y/n #nhl blurb #hockey imagine #you just know he's a wholesome bean #he'd be an amazing boyfriend #silovsmenotwrites #imagine requests

[andywinter16]

Would it be okie to ask you to write hcs on cor and drautos falling for the same person and they ended up picking drautos. Breaking poor cors heart

HELL YES anonie!!! I need to say that if I had to chose then only both (I know, I am greedy but look at them! XD)

so let me put you in the situation - you´re working in the Citadel, (unspecific profession)that is in daily contact with both Titus and Cor

it all starts absolutely innocently (compliments there and there from both of them)

fleeting touch from Cor when you brough him a coffee, brief smile from Titus your way (you slowly fell under their charming spell, wishfully thinking that they would reciprocate your feelings)

but why would such handsome and prideful men be interested in you, right? So you tucked your feelings away, after all it wasn´t professional.

But oh my, weren´t you wrong! Those men were crushing hard on you the moment they saw you

When they realised they were in love ... You needed help with something and both of them were at the right time at your service. "Marshal, Captain if it isn´t inapropriate of me, I would like to reward you for your assistance." You took leap of faith and shyly kissed of their cheeks while tiptoeing. You just made those huge dangerous men blush, you know ...

and the realisation that both of them wanted the same person ... let´s just say that war wasn´t only outside Insomnia

You were showered with such exquisite gifts. If one bought you 50 pieces of your favourite flowers that the other had to double it and add something extra (those men have tons of money that just laid on their bank accounts)

and don´t let me start about the over the top dates! Theatre play that was sold out, VIP tickets to your favourite band, romantic dinner on the roof of palace, to name a few ...

both of them were intense in their courting, they even wear tailored suit because of you (Cor even dusted his old Crownsguard uniform, that hugs his form perfectly)

you were realising that even though you spent time with both of them equally ... Titus was the one who occupied your mind and dreams (very pleasant dreams, indeed)

so you called Cor, that you wanted to meet somewhere private

"Cor, you´re wonderful man with such a pure heart, everyone would be happy to be yours truly, but ... I am not that person who will be at your side. I am sorry, but I made my choice. I wish you only the best in life, Cor."

That ... that hurt him so much, it felt like his heart broke in many pieces. He respects of course your decision, but deep down ... he wished it could be him besides you

Cor immerses himself in the work, to forget his shattered heart (still, he makes sure you´re okay, and if Titus isn´t mistreating you)

but would you regret choosing Titus? Only time will tell ...

#ffxv #ffxv kingsglaive #final fantasy xv #anon ask #titus drautos #cor leonis #I am so sad for my boy :( he deserves love too #gender neutral s/o #Cor is like sweet devotion #and Titus is tempting sin

[jj-lynn21]

THE PARTY YACHT

warnings 18+, smut, angsty, fun,

 The whole week had been hazy and hot. Temperatures reaching 100 degrees Fahrenheit. Bill and his love had been working overtime at their jobs. Their first day of three-day weekend started out with pure slothiness.  

Bill woke first. After slipping on some cloths, he quietly snuck out of the bedroom to make some morning coffee. He sipped on some before returning with her cup. He put it right under her nose to rouse her with the aroma. She blinked a few times before open her eyes to his smile and the mug of life. She snugged close to him as she finished her hot brew.  

He leaned down to kiss her slow and deep as his hand put the coffee cup on the stand. It had been a few weeks since they had been so intimate, so they took the morning very slowly. Love and exstacy rolled over their bodies as they satisfied what they were missing.  

After their morning romp they headed to the kitchen for more coffee and food. She wore his big burnt orange sweater with grey sweatpants and pink and white pock-a-dot fuzzy slippers. Thier house was an ice box contrasting to the heat outside. With Bill’s Nordic blood he still lounged in a white t-shirt, navy sweatpants, and bare feet. He bumped her and she giggled as she stirred up pancake mix. Bill made eggs bacon and sausages.

“Blueberries, or chocolate chips in these?” She asked.  

“Both.” Bill replied. “How about I chop up some pecan also?” He had been on a strict diet for shooting but now that it was all over, he was ready to splurge. “Lots of syrup.”

She laughed. “Okay, sounds perfect.” She sprinkled the chocolate chip morsels and the blueberries in the pancake batter. “Do you have a pan over there ready for these?”

“All buttered up.” He put some batter in a pan making a perfect circle. After a few moments he flipped them. Then dissed up the eggs and sausage.

She made the table up while he finished cooking the huge feast. She freshened up their coffee but also poured them some orange juice. She put out some grapes and strawberries, honey, and syrup. He setup all the cooked food. They ate most everything they made.

They lounged on the couch watching movies and eating snacks the rest of the day. Her in his lap feeling safe, loved, and warm. If you would have asked either of them, it was the perfect way spend the day after weeks without a break from work. She fell asleep there right in his arms, so he carried her up to bed. He slid in beside her with a book he was looking forward to reading but drifted off with his glasses on soon after he started. When his love woke in the night, she took his glasses off him before sliding out of bed to get a glass of water.  

They eat a little lighter the next day. Mimosas and fruit by the pool. Bill looks over at her body glistening in the sunshine. They are both sun kissed.  

“I think we should do something fun today.” He suggests.

“Like what?” She questioned. “I have fun just hanging here with you.”

“Yeah, this is great.” He finishes off his drink. “We have not seen our friends and family in a few weeks.”

“That is true.” She ponders. “What do you suggest? If you plan something, you know I will follow.” She finished her drink and held it up to him. “Refill?”

Bill grabs her glass. “I will bring you a bottled water. You need to stay hydrated in this heat.”

“I can swim to cool off from the heat.” She whined.

He laughed. “You can do that if you want, but I will also bring you some water.”

She jumped in the cool water as he walked inside. He called his siblings, friends, cousins, and her friends. He had a plan. He called the docks next for the biggest party boat available. One friend was a DJ, so boat had to have electrical hookup for equipment. Next, he called a caterer.  

As she stepped out of the pool Bill was there with her robe and a smile. “Get on one of your prettiest summer dresses with the new bathing suit I bought you for swim parties underneath. I rented a party boat and invited everyone we know.”

Her jaw dropped. “Really?”

“Yep, it's time to have a fun time before another shoot Starts in about a week. I will have to start prepping as soon as they send me the script.”

“Let’s not think about future work obligations.” She smiled and stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “It is time for good times with family and friends. Do we need a picnic or beverages?”

“I have it all covered, babe.” He slapped her bottom. “Just go get ready for fun.”

They pulled into the docks at the same time as Valter who had a car loud of friends. There were fist pumps and hugs of greeting as they all walked towards the music being played on the party yacht.  

The yacht was three levels. On the highest level a d DJ was set up playing the hottest summer tunes. A small buffet of wings, herring, salad, and mixed fruit in a watermelon was also setup on the top deck. A cooler with beers, wine and a variety of other drinks were near the table. There was also a slide right into the water off the top deck.  

There was plenty of room on the middle level on the bow and stern of the yacht for dancing and mingling. Bill just wanted to talk to everyone as the yacht pulled away from the dock. He was a social butterfly when in the mood. His girl on the other hand just talked to a small group of friends. Too much of a crowd made her anxious.  

Bill comes over and snakes a hand around her waist as he says hello to her friends. He was always watching her from afar and realized her discomfort in the crowd. “Excuse us.” He grins “Its slide time.”  

She throw her dress off to a chair, Then she pretends to fight him flailing her legs and arms as he carried her to the stairs for the slid. She climbed the stairs hesitantly. Bill was right behind her eager for the splash in the refreshing ocean water.

She turned to him as they got to the top of the slide. “You are going with me, right?”

Bill chuckled. “Okay.”

She sat with her legs together holding the sides until they were both ready. Bill sat with his legs around hers and his arms around her. “You can let go of the sides now baby girl. I got you.’

“When I am ready.” She looked down what seemed to be a huge slope.  

He grabbed her hands pulling them up in the air. They slid quickly. She screamed and he laughed as they plunged into the chilly water. She clung to him when they appeared from under the water. Bill treading water to keep both afloat. Others swam around them after sliding.

“You jerk.” She laughed as she pushed his head under the water.  

He popped back up. “You loved it.”

“Not the point.” She started swimming back to the boat.

“So, we are going to do it again?” He swam by her side.

“Of course.” She beat him to the ladder to get back on the yacht by one stroke when she pushed off him for leverage.  

They played on the slide laughing and splashing each other in the water until they were about too tired to swim to the ladder. They decided to take a break. Hunger was heavy in their stomachs. They stood near the buffet.  

“You didn’t get any herring on your plate.” He offered her a bite. “Try it. It tastes great.”  

She wrinkles her nose. “I’m not so sure.”

“Come on.” He pouts his lip. His emerald gaze looking at her pleading.

She rolls her eyes and takes the bite he offers. It was salty on her tongue. A flaky fish she had never tried before. She swallowed. “Mm good.”

“Hey, Bill.” A group of guys waved for him to come over. They were holding a box of cigars.

“Are you good, Babe?” He scarfed the rest of the food on his plate waiting for her to excuse him.

She laughed. “Go play with the boys. I’m fine.”

Bill hugged and kissed her gentle before going to hang with his boys. She sat down on a bench with her plate to nibble. Two girls with long blond pony tales looked over at her. She would have thought they were twins with their matching bodycon dress, but one had blue eyes and the other brown. Plus, one had a little bit of chestnut brown roots showing. She was obviously trying too hard to be like her friend.  

“Hi, I am Misty, and this is Kristy.” The girls smiled as if they were taught to do so no matter what. “We saw you talking to Bill. He does not talk to every girl. What is your secret?”

She giggles. “I don’t have a secret. We have been dating for months.”

“No sir.” The girls say in unison shaking their heads no.  

“How?” Misty thought aloud. “What is your profession that YOU (she emphasized the word like it was ugly) got a Skarsgard.”

“Nothing special.” she frowned

“We are models.” Misty smirked.

Kristy also smirked. “We were invited by Valter who we met at a club last night. Well, his bodyguard invited us.”

Misty glared at Kristy.

“What?” Kristy said. “It still counts he wanted us here.”

Bill’s girl tried not to laugh at them. “That is a good job. I bet you run into actors all the time.”

“What about you?” Misty seethed. “What is this nothing special job that got you so close to a Skarsgard?”

“I just work in a cloths story.” She laughed uncomfortably. “I was working when Bill came in for a new shirt when he dumped coffee on his dress shirt on the way to an interview. He bought five shirts that day. I helped him find what he needed quickly. He came back every day asking for me to help finding outfits. Then eventually he asked when my break was so we could grab a coffee.”

“What a cute story.” Misty rolled her eyes to Kristy. “Don’t get to use to him. Skarsgards are notorious Flirts. You think you have one and then they are off to the next shop girl or whatever. He probably has his eye on another girl right now.”  

Misty and Kristy grin evilly as the girl tries to scan the crowd for Bill. There is another girl that has joined their boys club. She is talking to Bill and giggling. Could he fall for that? Is he really going to move on so quickly? She thinks deep down it was crazy to think someone as beautiful as him could really love her.  

“Excuse me.” She politely gets up. Her eyes burn with tears as she grabs a bottle of whatever was on ice. She has the feeling to flee. But where do you go on a yacht full of people? She found her way down to the cabin below deck. It was cozy with a large couch, two tables, and a few chairs. There was a small restroom where she went to splash some water on her face. Luckily, she had good water-proof mascara that did not run down her face like her tears. She sat on the couch taking big swigs of the wine.

Bill, meanwhile, started glancing around for her. He had been checking up on her from afar. But he did not see her anywhere. The last he saw she was laughing with two air heads that followed his little brother Valter. He walked around the deck causally looking for her. Then he decided to look below decks. There she was. Huddle on the couch. She looked up to him with red eyes.

He locked the door and rushed to her putting his cigar down on the nearby table before holding her. “Did the crowd get to you sweetheart?”

She shook her head “no” as it was buried in his chest.

He lifted her head to look at him. “Tell me what’s wrong.” his voice more commanding.  

“Are you looking for new girl?” she could barely look in his eyes. Part of her did not really want to know. She wanted the bliss of thinking her loved only her.  

He was shocked by the question. “Why would you say that?”

“Are you?” She slid to the floor.

He got down the floor to hold her again. “No, I’m not here for anyone but you.” He kissed her deep to drive home the point. “I don’t want anyone at this party but you.” He kissed her again as she clung around him,

She kissed him back. Need arising in both quickly. Bill slid his wet swim trunks off. Then slid her bottoms off. When she took her top off, he just stared a moment. Then he laid her back on the floor. The carpet was fluffy to comfort her position.

“You are so beautiful.” He kissed her neck as he readied himself. “Never let anyone tell you how I feel for you. Or make you feel I might not care.” He eased his manhood inside her tightness.

She took a deep breath wrapping her legs around his waist. “I’ll try. I just don’t think I deserve you sometimes.” She gasped as got fully sheathed.

“It is me who got lucky to find a girl like you.” He breathed “who takes all of me so well.” 

He was huge in all sorts of ways. It made her feel safe and loved in this moment of passion unbridled. As they were reaching for their height of pleasure someone tried the door. Then they knocked.  

“Hey, I have to use the bathroom.” Valter screamed as he pounded on the door again.  

“Go piss in the water.” Bill groaned out.

“Fuck, Bill is that you?” Valters seethed. “I have to take a shit, unlock the door.”

“No.” He grinned a little as he was performing. His girl whined. “Shhh I got you all the way babe.”  

“Come on man.” Valter screamed.

“Go...in... the... lake.” His words emphasized with each thrust.  

“Fuck you man.” Valter retorted. “Your gross.”

The passion in the room climaxed into blissed after glow. Bill rolled on to his back and pulled her close in an embrace. He kissed her cheek before getting up. He got his shorts on and sat on the couch. As he reached for his cigar, he looked to his girl recuperating. “When you are ready, we can catch the sunset.”  

She got up and got her swimwear back on. With a smile on her face, she took his hand. “Let's go enjoy the sunset.”

Valter was still at the door when Bill opened it. She blushed as she passed. But Bill got in his face. “The Barbie twins are not to follow you to another one of my parties.”  

“No, problem just let me through.” He lightly pushed Bill out of the way so he could get to the restroom.

The couple made it above deck just has the sun was dipping into the horizon.She found her dress to slide on over her swimwear. The embraced as they watched the sunset. The colors were a beautiful yellow, orange and read. It was a perfect view for a mostly amazing day as the yacht headed back to the shore.

#au bill skarsgard #bill skarsgård #summer #x-reader #yatch #party yatch #party time #summer party #slide time #lake day #on the lake #love #mean girls

[reynie-muldoons]

"Blank Expression" liveblog!

This episode title scares the shit out of me. Let's crack in.

0:17 so Dr. Garrison is in the recap 👀 methinks she will be in the episode

0:57 they got *off*??? WHY WOULD THEY GOT OFF WITHOUT HER

1:19 angy Kate is angy

2:29 "actually.. there might be someone" I know they cut to tetherball so its 100% Martina but my heart was asking for Moocho 😂 it's so cool they're bringing her back, she deserves it

2:37 THERE'S OUR GIRL!!!! She looks so fucking good!!

2:52 oh my gosh the tearaway pants hahaha

2:58 i had a thought that I will not elaborate on- she's the athletic version of Dipper Pines

3:15 AWWW THAT FAAAACE

3:19 okay the music was creepy but Constance still looks cute as a button in that coat

3:31 daaaayum! There she is!!!

4:27 I'll never skip this intro. Never

4:52 I love that the bucket is their identifier

5:24 "I dont think Curtain is the only armchair neuroscientist in the game" something about that sentence scratches the back of my brain 😂

5:33 Milligan's chemist background is peaking through

5:54 I would say that I would kill for her, but Rhonda can handle her damn self. You go bbg

6:28 ooooh is it time for vigilante Garrison??

6:32 "I invented it." there it is 🙃

6:44 alright, a little more respect for her here. She wasnt willing to test this shit on people without further testing, knowing there could be some crazy side effects

7:01 shit, did she rebuild the whisperer?

7:03 shit she did rebuild the whisperer

7:17 I cant tell if Garrison is about to try to make Constance a lab rat, try to team up, or try to make her disappear

7:47 okay so like a mixture of lab rat and team-up, got it

7:54 "I'm not your dancing bear. I eat bears." What does that mean 😂😂

8:00 shit. fuck. Okay, so it's a combination of lab rat, team-up, and making her disappear. Shit.

8:27 I dont like this. I really dont like this.

8:37 two things:

1. What the fuck is that weird-ass jumper suit outfit 🥴 get a sense of style

2. What is it with this guy and tableside meal preparation

9:03 "the constant grip of existential angst" that describes my day to day LOL

9:16 "you are going to completely reverse whatever it is you did to him" that's the thing, I dont think Curtain even can. He didnt let Garrison run the necessary testing

9:37 he's eating a crepe at her 🥴

9:54 "I'm not hungry" I'm bitter they left that part of her book characterization out of the show, it would have been so easy to adatlpte

10:04 "I'm not falling for it" okay but what if it's not something you fall for, it kind of seems like something that can happen passively if you're focused on him enough

10:37 she fucking chose that name, fuck off and stop trying to recruit her as your new Dr. Garrison

11:02 "you know how I know? Pure joy triggers his narcolepsy." Oooooh. Mic drop.

11:34 as she should. Eat your fucking crepe babe

11:46 awwwwww

11:56 PIE TRUCK. THEYRE SO CLOSE

12:00 MARTINA IN A PIE TRUCK!!!!!

12:04 oh wait wait that's not a pie truck that's their team's truck 😂😂😂

12:18 "how hell-bent on vengeance do you have to be to go after a tiny child?" I love that Martina is the voice of reason. Scratch that, I just love Martina

12:37 "I bought in, I excelled, and no on cares." Spoken like a true ex-cult member

13:09 I don't know about a leader

13:16 "doesnt your team need this gear?" "Yeahh, probably" dude 😂😂😂

13:34 "maybe if they dont appreciate what I bring... maybe they dont get a van." Impeccable logic!

13:46 what the fuck is happening

14:02 this poor child wtf

14:43 "no one will be left out of our loving, loving family." See, this is why the whole fake happiness thing is fucked up. Curtain's like yeah hey come love in our compound, it's really nice :) but you cant leave. You'll be really fucking happy! But literally nothing else, only happy. There are no strings attached! Except everyone owes me for making them not be miserable anymore. It's similar to the Institute, where they stated there were no rules but there absolutely were. That's not to mention the mental unhealthiness and unsustainability of it all, and the manipulation that comes with this.

14:53 another one 🙃

15:29 "you are sanguine." "I am undercover!" Their dynamic right now reminds me of a drunk person trying to convince a sober person they're not drunk

15:39 this is real weird

15:49 oh lord now mr b has to play both sides

15:58 fucking christ

16:16 aoon enough the storeroom wont be big enough to hold them

16:21 Roll credits!

16:32 allergic reactions dont do that bud

16:38 alright, stiff necks. Noted. Can't wait to see mr b rubbing his neck like sebastian was in like 2 episodes

16:57 gotta love medical malpractice

17:10 so the polo team's with Garrison. I didnt put that together earlier lolol

17:38 I bet she doesnt give dental

17:48 "any financial stress-of which there is none-is worth the freedom I have now" methinks the lady doth protest too much

17:51 "being out from under that man's oppressive thumb is priceless" HA that's one sure thing she's being truthful about

18:23 awwwww. Reynie was about to take the blame, but Sticky made it clear they all agreed and went out together :')

18:55 yeah no I dont like that she called Constance an asset either, but now's not the time

19:13 them 30 seconds ago: "we havent covered the whole area" them, walking 2 feet across the tracks: "OH LOOK PRINTS"

19:37 I find it funny that they put a translation of the train sign in that 1 second between dialogue

20:09 RHONDA SLAY

20:39 a chemist who just had a baby, its Milligan all over again 🥺 Rhonda will defend the chemist, surely

20:52 smart move

21:52 you cant just tell someone to get that angry on command 🥴

22:05 well, she did break it

24:05 "I see a broken person who's angry." therapist!Constance is not wrong

24:33 she sounds like how Curtain did in the season 1 finale right before he had an narcoleptic episode- in denial

25:55 I love how Kate doesn't use bobbie pins in her hair but she sure does have them in the bucket

26:12 they made it burggrub, but the kids got off the train before it could ever stop there. Fun little game of tag that the adults are marvelously failing at

26:17 I know I've said this every single episode but I love Milligan and Miss Perumal's dynamic SO MUCH

26:20 DIPIKA????? The show strikes again with coming up with first names names for characters that we were never canonically told

26:24 ohhhh no no no no

26:24 alternatively, does this mean the two of them will be taken to the compund? With Mr B and Number Two?

26:44 noooo not the hippie clothes

27:16 I dont know how much this faux happiness thing is messing with his thought patterns. Like is he actually trying to use his position as leverage, or is he just saying that to try and stay longer?

27:25 there's a plan hatching and I'm worried about it lol, she's been murderous all season

27:33 "we're gonna kidnap him." "What?" LMAO SHE'S SO FRANK ABOUT IT

27:49 *graphically describing the death of a proverbial animal* remember how I said she's been murderous all season? Yeah 😂

28:05 llama!

28:14 shit. I didnt think he had been a recipient of the technique thing?? But apparently so

28:27 oh my gosh the sobbing in the distance. What did therapist!Constance do to this poor woman

28:39 this is about what I expected HAHA

28:55 "did she hurt you?" "She's the one who's hurting." Therapist!Constance strikes again

29:12 man, I thought we were getting somewhere with her 🥴

I'm excited to see where this goes! The kids have had a startling reunion, and the adults are about to have one themselves.

29:18 man. They just had to end it there. This season's had some great cliffhangers

Bingo for the next episode is coming tonight :)) what did you guys think?

#mbs liveblog #blank expression #mbs disney+ s2 #the mysterious benedict society #charity's talkies