#I’m really proud of the first one ngl | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

heavenlyvision · 11 months ago

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Just Friends

Word count: 13.7k

Pairing: Johnny Cage x F!Reader

A/N: Wowee, I am pretty proud of this one ngl! I hope you all enjoy it!!! This idea has been rotating in my brain for a couple weeks now, so I’m pretty stoked to have finished it <33

Summary: When your one-year anniversary raises red flags about your boyfriend you missed, Johnny helps you deal with the fall out in a delicious way, and then he ghosts you. When you find out why, you think his reason sucks but he makes it up to you… kind of.

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, angst (only little bit), virgin!Reader, age gap, reader is in her 20s, fingering, grinding, cum eating, spit swallowing (once), stalking (not by Johnny or reader), minor violence, name calling (not by Johnny or reader), no use of y/n

This isn’t where you would ideally be spending your time, in general you don’t club often but especially not for special occasions, which you classify this as one. You’re meant to be celebrating your one-year anniversary with your boyfriend, he had promised you a romantic evening but instead he surprised you with clubbing. Which, naturally you had no idea was happening, so not only are you not dressed for clubbing but you also are not in the mood to be here.

He's gone off to the dance floor and you’re just sat here by the bar watching him dance and get drunk. It’s uncomfortable for you, you’re dressed up in a nicer dress than what this place warrants and it’s getting the attention of the men around you, attention you really don’t want.

Unfortunately, it looks like your boyfriend is enjoying the attention of the other girls around him, he’s just now engaged in a bump and grind with a girl you both don’t know. This is ridiculous, he knows you can see him right? You’re getting huffy, but when he leans down and whispers in her ear is when you get pissed.

Getting up, you stomp over to him and grab him to get his attention, when he looks at you, he’s none too pleased. Like you weren’t the one watching him flirt with another girl on your one-year anniversary. A whole year with this man and he can’t give you the courtesy of paying you attention and not flirting with other girls. Ridiculous.

Your expression is twisted in anger, “What the hell are you doing?”

“What’s your problem?” He asks, his own expression irritated.

Your eyes become large, shaking your head at him, “My problem is you; you’re flirting with other girls right in front of me! On our anniversary!”

He blows you off and deflects the blame back on you, “Like you care, you have that weird relationship with that old actor dude!”

Of course, he brings up Johnny right now, you roll your eyes at him, “Johnny is just a friend! You know that.”

And he does, you’ve known Johnny for years, or at least your family has, you got closer to him a few years ago when you moved to California. He’s been really kind to you and was the only friend you had here for a while, even though he’s all famous and busy.

He gets in your face and yells at you, “Yeah right, you’re probably fucking him! You won’t fuck me but you’ll fuck him! Is that it?! GOD you are such a whore!” You can smell the alcohol on his breath with how close he is.

This is the first time he’s explicitly said what he’s been implying for months, he’s been so weird about this for a long time, you haven’t had sex with him, or anyone for that matter. And it upsets you when he implies otherwise. His blunt accusation has your eyes welling up with tears.

His shoulders drop and his eyes roll, groaning as he says, “Oh, don’t start that! You are such a gaslighter!”

“We are over, don’t call me, don’t come to my apartment, we are broken up,” you spit it out with as much venom as you can muster.

Turning from him, you get out of there as quickly as possible, hearing him continue to berate you faintly as you leave. The tears from earlier start to fall down your cheeks as you hail a cab, tonight is not what you wanted it to be at all.

This has been an awful experience, and if you were honest with yourself, you’d recognise your relationship had red flags the whole time. You had mostly overlooked it because you wanted it to work so badly but he was mean, pushy, didn’t respect you or your boundaries, he was even prone to violent outbursts, he never hit you but you have a sizable hole in your bedroom wall from the one time he got especially annoyed at you.

These are all things you had kept from Johnny and even then, Johnny had expressed concerns about your now ex-boyfriend, he never overstepped but he very gently told you that he thought he was a freak.

You won’t deny that you like Johnny, you’re attracted to him but it’s not like it’s something you could actively pursue or have even thought about pursuing. He’s older than you and probably wouldn’t look at you the same way you look at him. And even if he did, you can’t think of anything worse than a cheater, you would never want to be cheated on, so you would never cheat on someone. Even if they suck.

Sitting in the cab, you’re forced to reflect on all of this. You wish you’d had a few drinks; a buzz would probably make it easier to sleep tonight. The shock of it all has you most upset because when you search deep down you aren’t even sad about losing him, you’re sad about all the time you wasted on him. All the time you spent trying to make it work with a man who, frankly, didn’t and doesn’t deserve you.

When you get back home, you’re immediately showering the club off of your skin and crawling into bed. What you want most right now is for this awful night to be over, so you curl up in a little ball and hug your pillow to your chest for comfort.

✰ ✰ ✰

A heavy-handed banging at your door frightens you awake; you shoot up in your spot. It’s your ex banging on your door and yelling at you, grabbing your phone you quickly look at the time. It’s currently nine in the morning, he cannot be sober yet.

You walk through your apartment and drop your phone on your kitchen counter before tentatively walking towards the door. His loud banging stops and he knocks again gently, calling your name softly. You don’t want to open the door but you’re worried about your neighbours, one thing about him is that he is as stubborn as a mule.

Opening the door only a bit, you ask him, “What do you want?”

“Fucking finally, let me in,” his voice is angry and he’s pushing the door open more.

You try to keep him back, “You can’t come in.”

He keeps pushing at the door, eventually swinging it open the whole way, “I can do what I want,” his voice raises.

He goes to move inside your apartment and you push him back, his eyes glower at you, he’s scaring you.

“We are broken up, and I don’t want you in my house,” you say, standing your ground.

“We are not broken up; I didn’t agree to that!” he argues, voice getting louder in his anger.

His demeanour is scaring you, the last time he looked like this was when he punched that hole in your wall.

But you are not caving on this, “That isn’t how it works, we are over!”

He puts his hands on you and his grip digs into your skin, hurting you, but you move automatically and punch him square in the nose. His head flies back, he’s groaning out in pain and grabbing his nose. You take advantage of his balance being thrown off and push him out of the threshold of your apartment, he stumbles back and you’re slamming the door shut, locking it again.

“What the fuck! You stupid bitch! Let ME IN!!” His banging gets more forceful, it sounds like he might be kicking the door too.

You’re shaking at what just happened, you’ve never had to punch someone before. Sadly, it didn’t do enough damage to have him leaving, he’s still there and you have a feeling he isn’t going away.

There’s a sudden ringing from behind you, it makes you jump on the spot. Your heart racing as you realise it’s just your phone from the kitchen, you walk over to it, behind you the banging has slowed a bit but you can tell he’s still out there.

Checking your phone screen, you see it’s Johnny is calling, just your luck. If you don’t pick up now, he’ll just keep calling you. He knows you were meant to go on your date last night and you didn’t message him when you got home. He’s always checking in on you, making sure you’re safe but you don’t really want him hearing what’s happening, so you walk into the hallway and answer. Thankful for the moment of quiet outside your door.

“Hello?” You ask.

“Good morning, doll,” he sounds chipper.

“…Good morning,” your voice is wavering despite your efforts to sound normal.

You can practically feel his frown through the phone, “Are you okay?”

“Yup,” you’re trying to keep your answers short.

The banging on your door picks up again, he’s getting louder and yelling, because of course he is.

“What is that?” Johnny questions.

“…Nothing?”

He pauses, you imagine listening to the background noises, “It sounds like someone’s trying to break in.”

“No, it doesn’t,” you deny.

The banging continues at your door, your exes voice yelling, “Let me the fuck in!! God you’re such a fucking bit–”

“–I’m coming over.” He states, hanging up hastily, leaving no room for arguments.

Great, now you have to face the embarrassment of telling Johnny how awful your ex is and is apparently unwilling to let go of you even though he was flirting with and grinding into another girl right in front of you. You’d rather deal with the cops. Sighing, you grab your bat by the front door and crouch next to it, waiting for Johnny to get here. At least your ex will go away when he gets here.

It doesn’t take Johnny long to arrive at all, which is suspicious, he probably sped. You only know he’s here because you can hear the way your ex gets angry at him.

“Cage, Of course she called you,” he says to Johnny, disdain clear in his voice.

It’s the last thing you hear clearly, whatever Johnny says to him is low but apparently threatening enough to have your ex leaving, not before he yells at you one last time though.

“THIS ISNT OVER!” He yells out for you to hear.

“Yes it is, get the fuck outta here,” you hear Johnny clearer this time, he’d raised his voice at him slightly.

Johnny doesn’t knock, instead using the key you gave him to unlock your door. When he walks inside, he looks around quickly for you, not seeing you until he turns around to lock the door. His eyes widen at your small, crouched form in the corner by the front door, holding a bat with a sock on it.

“Jesus, sugar, what are you doing there?” His hand lands on his chest in mild shock.

“In case he got the door down,” you murmur at him.

He locks the door properly before giving you his hand, helping you up.

His brow raises, “What’s the sock for?”

“In case he tried grabbing it, he’d pull the sock off and I’d still have a bat,” you move the sock up and down the bat, demonstrating the slide.

He reaches out and you hand the bat to him, “Sit over there.” He points at your breakfast barstools.

You do as he says and shuffle over to the stool, sitting down on it. He puts the bat in your umbrella stand by the front door. Walking back over to you, he stands between your legs and holds either side of your face, checking you over.

“You okay?” He asks very softly; concern clear on his face.

You nod at him, “Yeah, Mm okay.”

His eyes are still looking you over, “I saw his nose was bleeding, you hit him?”

You nod again and he smiles at you, “Nice, you square your shoulders?”

“I think so,” you’re not sure, it happened pretty quick, the reaction more of a survival thing than a planned attack.

He hums and looks to your upper arms, “He grabbed you?” His hands gently run down your arms.

“Yeah, then I hit him,” you tell him, looking at your arms where he was looking. The skin where your ex had grabbed is irritated, it might bruise.

Johnny’s face is pulled into a scowl, “I should’ve hit him too, fucken dick.”

You shake your head at him, “I just wanted him gone.”

“I never liked him,” he continues.

“I know.”

“If he shows up again, I am hitting him,” his face still scowling.

You shake your head at him again, “Don’t do that.”

“Why not?” He looks into your eyes again; his hands leave you.

“Johnny, you’re not just some guy, you’re famous, if it got out that you hit someone it’d be a whole thing. It could ruin your reputation.”

He rolls his eyes at your concern, “Don’t really care about all that, doll.”

Your expression is doubtful, “Yes you do.”

“It’d be worth it, that guy sucks,” he maintains.

“Johnny?”

He hums at you in response.

“Can you… stay for a bit?” You ask softly, cringing at how pathetic you sound.

“Of course, you aren’t getting rid of me that quickly,” his smile is soft and you give him your own in return.

Getting up off the stool, you walk around into the kitchen, grabbing two mugs out for some coffee.

“You can go sit on the couch while I make some coffee,” you tell him with your back facing him.

He hums a little mindlessly before wandering over to your living room and getting comfortable.

After the coffee is made, you carefully walk to him, you’re watching the mugs and your feet as you walk. Carrying full cups has always stressed you out, you always manage to spill and you’d really rather not have to clean up a mess right now.

Thankfully, you successfully make it to Johnny without spilling anything, “Here you go,” you smile and hand him his mug.

“Thanks, sugar,” he takes it from you, sips at it and places it on the coffee table in front of him.

You sit beside him and silently sip at your coffee, enjoying the warmth of it, the flavour. You think a good cup of coffee could fix just about anything for you.

Johnny watches you sip at your mug, “What exactly happened, doll and why didn’t you call me?”

Yeah, you were expecting him to ask sooner or later, you were just hoping it’d be later.

Sighing, you place your mug next to his, “I didn’t call you because it’s embarrassing, you were right about him and I wanted to handle it on my own, I don’t need everything fixed for me.” You don’t look at him as you speak.

“I know that, you’re an adult but this was an angry, grown man, trying to beat down your door. And sometimes you might not need my help but you can always have me next to you, if it makes it easier.” His words are spoken soothingly, he’s always so gentle with you.

You can’t lie, you did have a crush on him for a long time, but then you met your ex and you didn’t let those feelings cloud your mind, you pushed them away. But just like how you push them away, Johnny’s actions and words push them back. He’s a difficult man to dislike.

“Thank you,” you mumble.

He asks again, “What exactly happened, it was supposed to be your anniversary wasn’t it?”

“He ‘surprised’ me by taking me out clubbing, which was already bad but I was uncomfortable and left at the bar alone while he danced and flirted with other girls.” You recount.

“What the fuck?” His voice is filled with displeasure.

“Mhm and then he was whispering to this one girl and I got annoyed, so I went over to confront him but he brought up y– … he said some mean things to me and about me… he – he made me cry and I broke up with him on the spot.” You leave out what he brought up about Johnny, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.

“How’d you get home?” He asks.

“Took a cab.” You state simply.

“And he just let you? Let you leave and get in a cab, crying, by yourself, in the middle of the night?” He clarifies.

You nod your head at him.

Groaning as he says, “I really should’ve hit him.” He pauses, “Why didn’t you call me?”

You look back to him again, “It was late and I didn’t want to bother you, or explain what happened, I just wanted to get home and get into bed.”

“You never bother me, sugar,” his eyes are compassionate as he looks at you.

Looking at him is intense for you, like if you look at him for too long, you’ll get hypnotised by him. So, you look away, back to your mug on the table.

He moves closer to you and puts a hand on your cheek, pulling your face to look at him, “If anything happens to upset you, and I mean anything, call me, okay?” He stresses on the anything, making sure you understand.

You avert his gaze, “I will call you, if something bad happens.”

He moves his face so he can catch your eyes with his, making you look at him again, “Say again.”

“I will call you, next time.” You reconfirm.

“Very good,” his praise does things to you that you wish it didn’t.

He still holds your face, looking at you, his thumb strokes your cheekbone softly. As his hand slips away from your face, his thumb pulls your lip down with it, before he pulls his hand away completely. His eyes locked onto your lips, gaze seemingly far away.

“Johnny?”

He hums, coming back to himself and looking you in the eyes, “Your pjs are very cute.” He changes the topic.

You grow bashful, you’re wearing a matching set, they’re frilly and have bows, and you like them because not only are they really cute, they’re also comfy. Johnny mentioning them throws you off, you completely forgot you were wearing pyjamas.

His smile is cheeky as he watches you grow shy, “What’s wrong?” He asks, taunting.

“You know what you did,” you pout.

He enjoys flirting with you because of how nervous it makes you. He finds it endearing but you find it annoying, which is another reason as to why he keeps doing it.

He hums happily, pleased with himself, “Cute.” It’s all he says in response.

You scowl at him.

He pinches your cheek, pulling at it.

You slap his hand away, “Stop it, that hurts.”

He smiles innocently at you; he goes to say something but his phone rings in his pocket. He pulls it out and looks at it, and then he rolls his eyes, he doesn’t pick it up though.

“Aren’t you gonna answer?” You ask.

“Nah, gonna let it ring out, I do have to go though, I’m late,” his reply nonchalant.

Expression concerned you say, “Johnny! Leave if you’re late, you didn’t need to be wasting time here.”

“I didn’t waste my time, you’re important.” His face firm as he speaks.

You huff at him, “Get out, right now.” Your tone is urgent.

“You’re pretty when you’re bossy,” he teases.

Eyes widening at him, “Johnny!” You exasperate.

“Okay, okay, I’m going,” he placates.

You walk him over to the door. Both of you standing there, you’re waiting for him to open it and leave but he turns around to look at you and pulls you in for a hug. You return it, appreciating the familiarity of him, you nuzzle your face into the fabric of his shirt and he holds you firmly.

His mouth rests against the crown of your head and speaks into your hair, “If he comes back, call me, okay?”

“Okay,” you mumble into his chest.

He pulls you away by your shoulders and then he leans down to kiss your cheek affectionately. The action makes your skin warm; he doesn’t pull away though, lips skating across your face and ghosting your lips, the minimal contact makes you gasp and your heart skip a beat.

He pulls away suddenly, “I’ll talk to you later.” He says hurriedly, opening your door.

“Have a good day,” you manage to say, almost normally.

He hums a noise of agreeance and then he’s gone.

After he leaves, you lock the door, and then your fingers skate over your lips, thinking about how he almost kissed you. The thought makes your heartbeat faster, he’s never showed interest in you before, at least, you don’t think he has.

Why did he do that? Did it mean anything? Was it an accident? You have so many questions that will undoubtably linger in the back of your head for the whole day, if not life.

✰ ✰ ✰

The rest of your day is spent cleaning up your messes made during the week, tomorrow you have a shift at work so today is really the only day you have to be able to pick up after yourself properly. It feels so incredibly mundane compared to what you went through last night and this morning. The fear of you ex coming back loiters in the back of your head the whole time you’re shuffling around your apartment.

It's earlier in the evening when you finally get to sit down, having completed your list of chores, along with showering and eating dinner. You feel quite proud of yourself for doing so much, you didn’t go grocery shopping like you had planned but you think for now, what you have done is more than enough. Leaving your apartment right now is a scary thought, he could be waiting for you outside the building, or around the street corner. You’re overthinking it but it is also very possible, he was terrifying this morning. It shocks you thinking about how he was in your life for so long and you hadn’t noticed anything bad enough to break up with him sooner.

A knock on your door brings you back from your thoughts, you’re apprehensive about answering the door, you aren’t expecting anyone. The person knocks again and your stomach drops, it’s him.

“Go away,” you call out.

“Just let me in, Jesus – talk to me,” your ex is irritable.

You get up and move closer to the door before saying, “You lost your right to talk to me last night.”

“You’re being such a bitch,” he says.

“I’ll call Johnny,” you try threatening.

“Oooo, I’m so scared of some old guy,” he feigns fear, but you know better, he is scared of Johnny.

You walk into the lounge room and pick up your phone, calling him.

His phone only rings a couple times before he picks up, “Hey, doll. You okay?”

From the door you can hear your ex call out to you, “Are you actually calling him?”

Johnny hears him too, “Is he back already?”

“Yeah… Sorry,” you feel bad calling him again so soon.

“Don’t apologise, I told you to call if he came back, you did good by calling me,” he says, his praise making you feel some type of way.

“I’ll be there soon, don’t talk to him,” he directs.

“I’ll see you soon,” you tell him before hanging up.

You grab your bat and hang out in the kitchen, hiding below the counters and watching the front door. Your ex doesn’t speak again, he doesn’t even knock and you briefly wonder if he left.

The wait doesn’t take long, and you know it’s Johnny when you hear the key turn in the lock. He enters the apartment and you pop up from behind the kitchen counters, still holding your bat. He shakes his head at you, amused at the sight of you appearing from nowhere.

Turning around he makes sure to lock the door and walks to you in the kitchen, “You okay, sugar?”

“You’re always asking me that,” you comment.

“I always want you to be okay,” he retorts.

You smile at him, “I’m okay.”

“Good,” he nods his head to the door, “He wasn’t out there.”

“I thought so, I think he heard me on the phone to you.” Your ex must’ve been too scared to face Johnny again, whatever threat he gave working, for now.

“Pussy,” Johnny insults him, it has you laughing lightly. “He really doesn’t like me, do you know why, doll? He ever tell you?” He’s curious.

You hum and look away from him, “No idea.”

“You’re lying.”

“How insulting, I have never lied to you,” you’re looking back at him, trying your best to look innocent.

Both his brows raise at you, “Not from lack of trying.”

You squint your eyes at him, “I am a good girl, I don’t lie, smoke, drink, party… so on and so forth,” you’re being facetious.

“Yes, you are a very good girl, so tell me the truth, mmm?” He practically purrs at you, with the way he spoke to you and how he’s looking at you right now, you’d tell him anything he wanted to know.

“Okay, so maybe I do know why he dislikes you,” you cave but can you be blamed?

He raises a single brow at you, encouraging you to continue.

Fiddling with your hands, you’re hesitant to tell him, “Mmm, so maybe he thinks that we’ve been… hooking up.”

“What?” His eyes are wide.

“He accused me of sleeping with you… which I assured him was not the case and that we’re just friends… but he didn’t believe me, and maybe he called me a whore for sleeping with you and not him…” you can’t look him in the eyes right now.

“I don’t even know where to start,” his expression is confused. “I want to injure him… badly, for calling you a whore,” he starts, his eyes burning.

“I just want him to leave me alone,” you murmur.

“If I break his legs he’ll have to leave you alone for three… to six months, depending on where I break him,” he remarks.

You shake your head at him, sighing.

He continues, “He’s a dumbass for accusing you of sleeping with me,” he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Are you done?” You ask.

“I have one more question, and since you’re such a good girl, you’re going to answer it without tip toeing around it,” his tone only a little bit teasing.

You look sceptical, trying to save face you say, “Maybe.”

“Why would he think you’re sleeping with me and not him,” he asks.

You avert his gaze quickly, “Well… you see, that’s a bit more complicated.”

“How?” He’s direct.

“So…” You trail off.

“No, don’t do that, don’t skirt around your answer… and look at me,” his tone absolute.

You look back to him, your eyes worried, “I’ve not slept with him… or anyone for that matter… as for why he thinks I’m sleeping with you, probably insecurity,” you shrug your shoulders at him.

Johnny looks surprised by your confession, whatever he was expecting you to say, it wasn’t that.

“You’re a virgin?” He clarifies.

You nod your head at him, “Yes…”

“Well shit, sugar, I didn’t mean to make you tell me something that private.” He feels bad.

“It’s not private, I’m not ashamed or anything, I just haven’t wanted to sleep with the men I’ve dated.” Which is true, you’ve been attracted to them, you just haven’t desired them enough to let them have you completely.

“I just feel like whoever I do sleep with, I should crave their touch, and I haven’t… felt that way about the men I’ve dated,” you’ve only wanted one person that way and he’s standing in front of you. Much to your dismay.

“So, your idiot little ex, has somehow got it in his head that you want me?” He asks, big smile on his face.

Frowning, you say, “Don’t look so proud of yourself.”

“Sorry doll, trying not to be but it’s a bit of an ego boost,” he chuckles.

“Like you need one,” you quip. Undeniably though, his confidence is something that makes you feel hot and bothered.

He smiles at you devilishly, going to say something before there’s a knock on your door.

Johnny groans, “Does he not give up or what?”

Another, harsher knock.

“That’s it, I’m kicking his ass,” he starts walking to the front door.

You jog to get in front of him, “No, Johnny, you can’t.”

“I’m fairly certain I can,” he huffs but he stops walking.

You give him a pointed look, “your career?”

“Didn’t I tell you earlier today that I don’t care?”

“I care,” you give him your softest eyes, begging with him not to resort to violence.

He groans in annoyance at how well it works on him, “Arghh, fine.”

“Thank–”

“–But, you should moan so he thinks we’re fucking,” he says, smiling like he’s come up with some master plan.

It’s embarrassing to admit to him but, “I don’t… know what I’d sound like.”

“Never even touched yourself, doll?” His question makes your face feel hot. His bluntness a lot for you, it makes you feel fuzzy.

“I have… I just never really made any noises,” you answer him hesitantly.

Looking at Johnny, he has a very serious look on his face, eyes dark. You only see it for a second before he’s smiling sweetly at you, “Bet you make the cutest sounds,” he teases.

He stalks towards you and you walk backwards, you end up with your back against the wall by the door. Johnny has caged you in against it, one of his hands resting on the wall beside your head.

His voice is low, “Wanna find out?”

You look up at him, “Find out what?”

More loud knocking comes out from beside you, your ex still there, still refusing to leave, “I am not going anywhere!” He calls out.

You turn your head to look at the door, but Johnny’s hand pulls your face back to his, “Keep your eyes on me and answer my question, sugar.”

“What was your question?” You don’t remember.

His fingers play with the strap of your pyjama shirt, “Wanna find out how you sound?”

“What?”

He tuts, “Simple yes or no, sweetness.”

The skin of his fingers brushing against your shoulder has a shudder threatening to run down your spine, he’s arousing you and you don’t feel sure in a lot of things but you feel pretty damn sure in yourself as you say.

“Yes.”

He grins, pleased with your answer, “Can’t hold back, gotta let yourself make noise, okay?”

Nodding your head, you agree.

“Perfect.”

His hand that was playing with your shirt slips down to your hip, holding you there before asking, “Are you wet?”

Your thighs involuntarily clench at his question, “Yeah.”

“What from,” he presses you for more answers.

His hand slips under your sleep shorts but not into your panties, his two middle fingers massage your pussy over your underwear, he can feel the wet patch on the front of them that had formed. Your mind drifts, losing yourself in his light touch.

“Gotta answer, sugar.” He reminds you.

You bring your focus back to his words, “From you…”

“What about me?” His pointer and ring fingers spread your folds through your panties, wet noises resulting from the action, “Fffuck, listen to how wet you are.”

You want to shrink in on yourself, his brazen words embarrassingly hot. His middle finger pets at your clit gently, the stimulation makes you gasp and one of your hands grabs at the wrist of the hand he has on the wall beside your head, the other resting flat against the wall.

“C’mon doll, pay attention,” he chastises.

“The way you – ngh – talk to me,” you confess maybe a little too easily.

“What specifically?” He’s too curious for someone touching you in a way that makes it difficult for coherent thought.

His middle finger is still gently grazing your clit, never straying, the stimulation making you so wet. Your panties no doubt ruined under his ministrations.

“Your voice, your praise, nicknames – hah, jus like the way you talk to me,” you feel breathless.

“Mmm, like being praised? Told what to do?” He asks in a mocking manner.

You’re lacking any critical thinking skills right now though, because you normally wouldn’t feed his ego so much, “By you, yes.”

“Fuck sugar,” he curses, your honesty getting to him.

His finger still stroking you over your underwear, your hips twitching in response to it. He hums at you, enjoying how much you’re squirming below him.

“Johnny,” you call to him, his name coming out whiny.

His response is far away, “Mmm?” he doesn’t look up to you, instead he pulls your shorts all the way down, wanting to watch the way he plays with your clit over your panties.

He adds more pressure to the finger stroking you, the feeling making you gasp, an almost moan slipping from you. Without realising, you hold it back and it comes out strangled.

“Not supposed to hold back, doll.” He reminds you quickly.

But you’re still conscious of your ex lingering in your hallway, something that Johnny is also aware of, which is why he wants you to be louder. He decides to pulls your panties down, removing his fingers from your pussy to do so.

The loss of contact has a whimper exiting you and Johnny chuckles at the sound.

“Needy aren’t ya?” He hums at you, amused.

You huff at him, not really appreciating the teasing.

His fingers move back to your pussy, sliding through your very wet cunt, spreading your slick around, his chest rumbling with a growl at how wet you are. Your thighs are wet and your whole lower half is slippery. The teasing he’s put you through too much, you’re beyond horny and you really just need him to touch you.

You look up at him, eyes big and wet, pleading with him to touch you properly without asking aloud.

The hand by your head moves to cup the side of your face, his smile is large as he looks at you. Enjoying the way you’re falling apart in the palm of his hand. He shows you pity though, and his finger slips to your pussy hole, gently pushing into you. Your cunt spasms lightly around it and he sighs a groan at the feeling.

“Damn sugar, you’re… fucken soaked,” he comments.

You don’t reply to him, you can’t, too lost in the feeling of his large finger carefully pushing into you. The hand he has on your face still holding you, making you look at him. His thumb pulls your bottom lip down, his eyes mesmerised by your expression. You have a soft and needy look on your face, eyelids low, your breaths whiny. He’s enamoured by you, getting lost for a moment.

But he remembers himself and removes his hand from your face, instead holding your hip, your back arching off the wall slightly. He pushes his finger in the rest of the way, stroking against your walls, his thumb rubbing circles into your clit.

Your breaths turn into whimpers and as he pulls his finger in and out, you moan in response, the feeling overwhelming. Your hips are writhing in his grip, and your head is thrown back on the wall, moans growing louder.

He holds your hips steady, gaze flicking between the way your cunt is sucking his finger in and the fucked-out expression you’re wearing on your face. Your chest rising and falling quickly with your breaths.

For the first time in a while, he’s lost for words, he doesn’t even want to say anything. Just wants to push you over the edge, have you moaning and writhing against the wall for him. He’s painfully hard and ignoring it, but his dick twitches every time your cunt tightens or moans get louder.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Your ex pounds on the door, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

You had forgotten about him, too lost in your own pleasure. You squeak at his yelling and bite your lip.

“Don’t you fucken dare, need you to keep making those noises, sugar,” Johnny’s thumb tugs your lip free of your teeth.

The pounding beside your head gets louder, your ex yelling belligerently at the two of you, cursing Johnny out.

“She has the tightest little cunt!” Johnny calls out to your ex, just to piss him off further.

“Johnny,” you try admonishing him but his name borders on a whimper. The feeling of his finger moving in and out of you affecting you. Your moans are barely contained.

Your ex smacks the door harshly once before yelling at the two of you, “I FUCKING KNEW IT!”

He murmurs curses, calling you names and yelling about how he was right the whole time, before you hear his stomping feet walk away. Seemingly leaving.

Briefly you wonder if Johnny will stop touching you now that your ex has left but if anything, his pace increases, his finger fucking into you quickly, thumb circling your clit firmly. Your moans spill from you, breaking off into whimpers. Johnny has a feral look on his face as he watches his finger fuck into you.

The wet sounds of your pussy getting louder with his increase in speed. His hand on your hip again, keeping you still. His forehead leans forward and rests against yours, you can’t help but watch his lips, wanting him to kiss you.

He’s busy watching your cunt, “Fuck, sugar, really do have the tightest pussy.” You shudder at his words and he continues talking, “Fucken, messy too.”

Your hands claw at the wall behind you, trying to brace yourself against something sturdy.

“Can I add another?” He asks, wanting to stuff you full of his fingers.

“Please,” it’s a desperate sound that escapes you.

His middle finger pulls out to add his ring finger alongside it, both pressing into you gently, not getting far with how tight you are. The width of them stretching you open, burning slightly. His thumb keeps rubbing at your clit, trying to ease the stretch.

“Relax, doll,” he directs.

Taking a deep breath in, you relax slightly and Johnny takes advantage of it, slipping his fingers into you completely.

A keening whine pulls from you at being full of his large fingers.

“Thas it, such a good girl for me,” he groans out at you.

Your pussy clenches down on his fingers at his praise and a soft moan escapes from him, his composure slipping for a moment. If you had your wits about you, you’d notice how his own eyes look a little fucked out, that he’s worked himself up so much just from finger fucking you.

His hand on your hip grips you tighter, grounding himself. Both his fingers fucking into you in earnest, determined to have you cumming on them. His pace picking up to what it was previously, your walls clinging to him desperately. His own breathing is coming quick.

You’re teetering on the edge of something beautiful, “Feels like too much,” you whine at him.

“It’s meant to feel like that,” he coos at you, pity in his voice.

His fingers are persistent and so big and your cunt is fluttering around him with how close you are. Your eyes close, eyebrows knitting together against the pleasure. You feel something brush against your lips, so softly, that you think you imagine it.

Johnny removes his hand on your hip, grabbing your face again. Thumb coming up to your mouth and pushing inside it, you take it, wrapping your lips around it and sucking. He groans at the sight and feel of your warm, wet mouth. He pushes his thumb down onto your tongue, you’re salivating against it, drooling slightly.

The pleasure he’s giving you is so much, from never being touched by someone like this to being touched by someone whose touch feels like he’s attempting to pull you apart from the very depths of your being, is an insane jump. His presence alone crushes you; this is a completely new experience.

Your cunt pulses around his fingers, your moans muffled around his thumb. Johnny’s eyes drop from your face and look down between you both, watching your pussy, again. Infatuated with how you’re taking his fingers.

“C’mon doll, can feel you, you’re so fucken close,” his voice is strained as he talks.

But his voice is devastating to you, the gruffness of it sends you over the edge, your hands paw at his chest, needing something to hold onto. His thumb removes itself from your mouth, grabbing one of your hands instead and interlocking fingers with you.

Your hips grind down into his hand, riding out your high, moans tumbling from your lips as you throw your head back, his name mixed in with your moans. Distantly, you can hear Johnny moan at your orgasm, delighted by the state of you. Your breathing is harsh, chest moving quickly, you feel far away from your body. Hearing poor with how the blood is rushing through your head.

Johnny pulls his fingers from you carefully, you’re watching him through dazed eyes, slumped against the wall. His own eyes looking at his fingers and the way they’re soaked in your slick and cum. He shocks you when he licks them clean before putting them in his mouth, sucking you off them. He hums around his own fingers at the taste of you.

The display is obscene and has a small whimper being pulled from your chest. He pulls his fingers out of his mouth, keeping eye contact with you. His heated look making you squirm a bit.

He shoots you a charming smile, “I was right, you do make cute sounds.”

You cover your face with your hands, wanting to escape his penetrating gaze.

Johnny locates your shorts and helps put them back on you, he kisses the top of your head, “I got carried away, doll. I’m sorry.”

Pulling your hands away, you look at him. He’s wearing a troubled expression, disappointed in himself, seemingly, out of nowhere.

“It’s okay.” You assure him.

He shakes his head, “No it’s not, I should’ve known better, I’m older than you. Shouldn’t have done this.”

You’re getting a bit annoyed, you’re an adult and you told him yes when he asked, “Johnny, I agreed.” You try reminding him.

“Doesn’t matter, should’ve controlled myself.” He’s getting hung up on his morals, frustrated in his actions tonight.

“I could’ve stopped you if I didn’t want it,” you push.

He looks at you dubiously, something telling you that his internal struggle is deeper than what he’s sharing with you.

“I should go, doll. I am so sorry.” He apologises again, but there isn’t anything he needs to apologise for.

He doesn’t touch you as he leaves, he looks like he wants to, but he doesn’t. Instead, he rushes out the door, not letting you argue with him any further. You hear him lock the door with his key as he leaves.

You’re left leaning against the wall, shell shocked as to what the hell just happened. He gave you your first and best orgasm and then left suddenly. Acting like he’s committed some kind of crime.

Calling him doesn’t work, he won’t pick up and he hasn’t replied to any of your texts. You don’t think he realises that he hadn’t fucked up before but he certainly has now, because what the fuck???

✰ ✰ ✰

By the next morning, Johnny still hasn’t replied and you have to go to work. You’re extra cautious as you leave your apartment, anxious about your ex possibly approaching you. Luckily he isn’t anywhere to be seen and you make it to work with no issues. Though, you did feel like somebody was watching you for a bit, you chalk it up to your nerves. The past few days not really doing great things for your psyche.

Your shift is a long one, gruelling. The whole day you’re thinking about your ex harassing you all day yesterday and when you finally think about something else, it’s about how Johnny is ghosting you.

On your break you try messaging him again, telling him it’s fine and if he regrets it that much to just forget about it. You aren’t going to be clingy and make him marry you or something now, if you knew how this would end, you wouldn’t have said yes. You don’t regret what happened but you will if you lose him as a friend over it. You want to convey that to him but you aren’t the best at communicating your feelings, things come out wrong and weird in your desperation to explain your thoughts.

So, you settle for sending him a text that boils down to ‘if you regret it, we can just forget it. I’m not mad at you’. Though, you feel like that might bite you in the ass later.

When your shift is finally over, you don’t want to go home. A bad feeling consuming your whole body, worried about what you might come face to face with. Worried you might run into your ex on the way back. You’d appreciate having one of your work friends walk you back but you don’t know any of them well enough to ask, and you don’t wanna call Johnny right now, not that he’d pick up anyways.

The walk back is tense, you’re on edge and when you get to your apartment, you realise you were right to be so. Your apartment door has a hole in it where it’s been kicked in, picking up your phone, you call Johnny but of course he’s still avoiding you. So, you leave a message for him and instead call the cops.

You wait for them to arrive; it doesn’t take them long but they weren’t quick about it either. They check it out for you, making sure it’s empty and when they confirm that it is, they tell you so. You walk into your apartment and they ask you a few questions.

You tell them, “I know who did it, it was my ex, he harassed me all day yesterday.”

“Did you report him?” One of them asks.

“Not at the time, but I didn’t think he’d do this,” you raise your hands, gesturing to your ransacked apartment.

“We can’t do much without actual proof, next time you’ll just have to hope to catch him in the act.” The other says.

“We will keep record of this, but yeah, unless you get actual evidence, we can’t do anything about him,” The first one adds.

You could definitely question him, you think.

This is why you didn’t want to deal with the cops in the first place, they never give a shit about things like this until someone is dead.

“Yeah thanks, I’ll be sure to prioritise that next time,” you tone is facetious but you can’t help it, your home has been broken into and possibly robbed and they couldn’t give less of a fuck.

They ignore your attitude, “If you find that some of your items are missing, report it, we’ve got another call to go on, stay safe.” And then they’re both leaving you there, in your messed up apartment.

The place you’re meant to feel safe has been broken into by someone you had dated for a year, someone you used to trust and now you’re just left here. Knowing that he’s still out there and could come back whenever he wants, they didn’t even ask for his name. What are you meant to do? Where are you meant to go? Cause there is no way in hell that you’re staying here.

You’ll have to look for hotels in the area, you’ve only made a few friends here and most of them are campus living. Also, you’d prefer people didn’t know about this. You’re feeling incredibly vulnerable and alone at the moment.

Looking around the room, you see that heaps of your breakables have been chucked around, he broke your tv, some of your favourite mugs, a framed picture of you and Johnny. He’s made holes in some of the walls and flipped over furniture.

Sighing, you go to check your room, and sadly, it didn’t fare any better, it looks like he cut open your mattress and tore up some of your clothes. A lamp broken and on the floor. Right after you just cleaned up the day before too, ironic.

You hear the sound of shuffling in the entryway, stuff being walked into, it makes you freeze in your spot. The footsteps become frantic, walking quickly around your apartment before heading towards where you are at the end of the hall in your bedroom. There isn’t anything you can grab as self-defence, but it’s okay because you see when he enters the room that it’s just Johnny. He was the one stomping around quickly, worried about you.

“Oh my God, why didn’t you pick up the phone, been calling you.” He stresses as he walks up to you, pulling you into his embrace.

You don’t hug him back, annoyed at him, but he doesn’t stop hugging you anyways.

“I put my phone down in the lounge room, didn’t think you were gonna call.” You weren’t expecting him to come, you weren’t even expecting him to check his texts from you, let alone a voicemail.

He huffs, agitated with himself, because yeah this is on him, “I’m sorry, I’ll always come when you call.”

“I called you first,” your voice shakes, tears threatening to fall.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats.

A tear slips down your cheek, “Don’t want you to be sorry, wanted you to be here.”

“I know, doll, I–” You think he was going to apologise again but cuts himself off, “What happened?” He still hasn’t let you go, and you still won’t hug him back.

“Came home from work, saw my door had been kicked in so I called you, you didn’t answer, so I called the cops.” You detail.

He asks, “What did they say?”

“They can’t do anything to him without proof,” you’re crying now, remembering just how unhelpful they were.

He pulls back to look at you, his thumb wiping away your tears, his hands holding your face gently, “What do you mean?”

“That’s what they said, they can’t do anything without evidence. This will be kept on record but because I have no proof, they can’t do anything about him.” You sigh out.

Johnny looks unbelievably pissed.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do, he broke so many of my things, I don’t know where to go,” you’re almost sobbing now, working yourself up.

“Calm down,” he shushes you, “You’ll be staying with me.” Your expression is doubtful, “What’s that look for?” He questions.

“You literally just ghosted me out of nowhere, over an imaginary problem that you created,” you remind him.

His hands let go of your face and land on your shoulders, “That was me being stupid about me being stupid, I fucked up, but I am here for you and you will stay with me.” He cements, not really leaving you any room to disagree.

Tears are still falling down your cheeks, you wipe at them with the back of your hand, “Okay.”

“Good, now pack a bag,” he lets go of your shoulders.

Locating one of your suitcases, you pack as many clothes as you think you’ll need, as quickly as you need, not wanting to stay here any longer than necessary. You also grab some of your basic necessities and memorabilia.

On your way to the front door Johnny carries your bag, “Wait a sec,” you call out to him.

He stops where he is and you walk over to the lounge room, picking through the glass on the floor.

“Be careful,” he warns.

Humming at him in response, mostly ignoring him, you fish out the photo of the two of you. It’s one of your favourites and you’d hate to lose it.

Johnny’s expression is curious, “What is it?”

“Us,” you turn the photo around to show him, “It’s my favourite.”

He smiles at the photo before he frowns, “What a freak, real insecure guy,” he says in reference to your ex.

You smile a bit, because yeah your ex is very insecure and a huge freak but, “You literally fingered me within earshot of him.”

Johnny pouts and looks away, “Still…”

“Let’s leave,” you save him from whatever he was going to say in protest.

He nods at you, “Sounds good, sugar.”

✰ ✰ ✰

Walking through the lobby of Johnny’s apartment is always a bit of a shock, his apartment is nicer and has actual front desk security. You can already tell that you’ll feel safer here, even if you were left alone. You can’t help but feel a little bad for him though, he loved his mansion and he had to sell it.

The ride up the elevator is quiet, which you’re thankful for right now, you’re not really in a conversational mood. Just wanting to shower and get out of your work clothes, wash off the day in general.

Inside his apartment, he shows you to the guest room and drops your bag onto the bed.

Turning to him, you ask, “Can I have a shower?”

“I dunno, can you?”

You scowl at him, “May I have a shower?”

“You may,” he smiles cheekily.

He shows you to the bathroom, you’ve been here before but he’s a thorough man, double checking that you’re comfortable and know where everything is. When you affirm that you will be okay and have everything under control, he’s leaving you to your own devices, wandering off into the living area.

Grabbing your toiletries first before you’re immediately getting inside the shower. All too ready for the comfort the warm water will give you. You let the water run over you, allowing yourself a moment to lose your composure, letting yourself cry under the water. Things could be worse but they could also be better and in this private moment in the shower, you let yourself feel like the world is ending.

After you’ve finished in the shower, you towel yourself off quickly, walking to the guest room with the towel wrapped around you, having left your clothes in there. But as you shuffle the clothes around in your suitcase, you notice you’ve not packed any pyjamas, and now you want to cry again. Because how are you so stupid as to forget pyjamas.

Stopping yourself from spiralling, you take a few deep breaths and go looking for Johnny, you’ll just have to borrow a shirt of his. You find him in the kitchen, sipping on a drink.

“Johnny?” You call out to him; his back is facing you.

He hums as he turns around, eyes growing wide as he realises you’re only wearing a towel.

“What’s up, sugar?” He’s straining himself to keep looking into your eyes and not anywhere else.

Rocking on the balls of your feet a bit, you tell him, “I forgot pjs, do you have a shirt I can borrow or something?”

His gaze is distant for a second, you walk closer to him and wave a hand in front of his face. He catches you by the wrist, “Sure I do, gimmie a sec,” he smiles at you, his eye twitching the slightest bit as he talks.

He wanders away for a few moments, when he reappears, he’s holding a shirt of his. It’s long sleeved and has different coloured sleeves to the rest of the shirt, you gratefully accept it.

“Thank you,” you say, walking away hastily to change.

You hear him hum out a response to you as you waddle away quickly.

When you slip it over your head, you first note how soft and warm it is, and second you note how large it is on you. It covers your lower half fairly well, but you didn’t ask for bottoms and he didn’t give you any so you pick out a pair of boy short underwear, they aren’t anything special but they do have little stars all over them.

Anyways, they’ll do as more conservative bottoms for the night, you’ll go to get some of your pyjamas tomorrow. For now, these will pass as shorts, kind of, it’s unlikely they’ll even be seen anyways. Are you overthinking this? You feel like you’re overthinking this.

Exiting the room, you go back to the kitchen and notice that Johnny isn’t there anymore, nor is he in the lounge room. Shuffling around his kitchen, you look at his ingredients, wanting to cook him something as a thank you for taking you in temporarily.

He hasn’t got heaps but you can make a carbonara, he has the basics for it, pasta, cream, bacon, etc. You think this will do nicely, though mostly you’ve just talked yourself into wanting pasta.

When Johnny comes back into the kitchen, you’re standing by the stove making the cream. Quickly glancing to him, you realise he’s also showered. He looks good, domestic. In a casual t shirt and sweatpants, your eyes linger for a bit longer than what’s appropriate. Swiftly snapping your head back to the stove when you notice you’re staring for too long.

“What’s cookin’ good lookin’,” he sing songs to you, coming up to stand by your side.

You can’t help but roll your eyes at him, “Creamy carbonara.”

“Smells good,” he comments.

“That would be the bacon,” you nod your head to the bacon bits you had previously cooked.

When you look up to him, he’s already looking down at you. His eyes are filled with a kind of affection for you that you’ve never taken any notice of. His eyes flit from your eyes to your lips, his hand coming up and grabbing the side of your face, thumb stroking high on your cheek bone.

You lean into his hand and he’s dipping down to you, “You look good in my shirt,” he whispers to you, lips almost touching.

Just as he’s about to take your lips in his, there’s a bubbling sounds coming from the stove.

“Ah, the pasta!” You move out of his grasp quickly, lowering the heat on the stove. It had almost boiled over in your distraction, “Go away! You’ll make me ruin something!”

“Wanna ruin you,” he mutters as he walks away, though you don’t hear him.

“What?” You ask him as he walks away.

He calls out, “Nothing!”

His restraint is wearing thin around you and he wonders briefly, if having you here is going to end well. He almost folded just from you wearing his shirt and cooking for him, he has to find a grip and hold it.

Seemingly, you are completely unaware of his own internal conflict, happily humming to yourself in his kitchen, cooking a meal for the both of you. Johnny watches you from the breakfast bar, enjoying the sight of you flitting around his kitchen.

“Where are your plates?” You ask him.

“Bottom cupboards, by the stove,” he answers.

Bending down you open the cupboards but there’s only baking trays and other miscellaneous oven trays in here. He watches as you bend over, enjoying the sight of his t shirt riding up, seeing your small ‘shorts’ as it does.

You huff, standing up, “No they aren’t.” You turn around to look at him.

“I know, I lied,” he smiles innocently at you.

Scowling at him you ask, “Why?”

He avoids the question, “Just cause,” he shrugs at you, “they’re actually in the bottom cupboards on the other side.”

You look at him sceptically, walking closer to him and looking in the cupboards again, and this time he told you the truth. Grabbing two plates, you place them on the bench top.

Choosing to ignore him, you continue humming a mindless tune as you dish out the pasta. When you’re finished, you slide the plate over to him. Walking yourself around the counter so you’re next to him, you sit beside him and reach forward, dragging your plate to yourself, ready to feast.

“Thanks, doll,” he says.

“Mmm, thank me when you’ve tried it,” you remark.

You both sit in a comfortable silence whilst you eat, which you are grateful for. You’re hungry and want to eat without having to stop to talk. The food tastes good, probably one of the better ones you’ve made, it’s an easy recipe, one of your go to’s and it never fails to fill a hole in your heart where pasta lives.

After you’ve finished, you get up to clean up but Johnny stops you, “Ah, you cooked, I’ll clean.”

“But I’m the one that made the mess,” you contend.

He looks at you with a brow raised, expression reading as ‘really?’ You sigh and allow him to take your plate. As he bends over your shoulder to take it, he kisses your cheek, “It was very good, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” your face feels hot all of a sudden.

He stands at the sink, rinsing the plates off before putting them in the dishwasher, “What made you cook?”

“A thank you, for letting me stay,” you smile watching him clean up, “I’m being a good house guest.”

“Ah, can I expect a cooked meal every night then?” He teases.

Your face pulls up in a joking scowl, “Absolutely not! You can cook tomorrow… and the day after and the day after.”

“I see, so it was a one-time deal,” he nods in understanding.

“Can’t give it away for free, you gotta want it,” you joke.

A quiet falls over the both of you for a moment, neither of you sure what to say next.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” You ask him.

He’s moved away from the sink and is back at the bench, arms holding himself up on it as he looks at you deviously, “What movie?”

You know what he wants, “Not one of yours.”

“That’s not very nice, doll,” he groans out in complaint.

Arguing with him, you say, “I have already seen all of your films, we are not watching one tonight.”

“Whoever gets the remote picks the movie,” he states quickly before making a run for the lounge room.

You aren’t as quick as him, scrabbling out of your chair to chase after him, “Johnny, not fair!” You don’t even know where his tv remote is.

When you make it into the lounge, he’s already holding the remote, wiggling it back and forth, taunting you. Groaning, you trudge up to him.

“That was not fair,” you complain.

He has a large victorious smile on his face, “Wasn’t trying to be fair, sugar. I was trying to win.”

Trying to be sneaky, you move closer to him, but he holds a hand up as you approach, “Ah ah, stay where you are, I won,” he informs.

“I’m not doing anything,” you shrug.

He keeps moving away from you, you’ve successfully rounded him so that his back is facing the couch now. Moving closer to him, he has no where else to go. It doesn’t bother him though, he squares his posture, holding his ground.

“I wouldn’t recommend whatever you’re about to do, doll.” He warns you.

You repeat again, “I’m not doing anything.”

Standing right up against him now, you go to quickly grab the remote but he moves it up and away hurriedly. You grab onto his forearm and try to pull it down as you jump for it, he’s laughing at you. His evasion of your attempts at grabbing the remote are effortless, you’re still trying to pull his arm down to you but you think he’d sooner be able to hold all your weight on one of his arms, than you bringing it down to you.

This isn’t working, you need a new plan. Pulling back, you look up at him.

“That won’t work on me,” he says.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” comes your reply.

“That,” he gestures towards your face, “Looking at me all cute like, won’t work, not tonight.”

You smile sweetly at him, “But another night, it would work?”

He squints at you, unsure of what you’re planning, “Maybe…”

Your plan wasn’t anything along these lines, but it’s fun to know that apparently you could get him to bend to your will in different circumstances with just a sweet look.

Stretching up, you go for the remote again, he steadily holds it out of reach, “C’mon sugar, you know this isn’t working–”

You take the chance while he’s talking to jump up on him, legs wrapping around his hips, your hands making a move for the remote. He’s shocked, his free arm automatically coming to rest under you to hold you steady. The only thing he can think to do, is drop the remote onto the floor and kick it across the room, away from the both of you.

“No!” You protest, moving to unwrap yourself from him and go after the remote.

Johnny holds you to him though, before using his grip on you to chuck you down onto the couch, you’re laughing and struggling against him, still protesting. You don’t stop wiggling, even though he’s straddled you and is holding your wrists down to the couch.

“Stop squirming so much,” he chuckles at you. The shirt you’re wearing has ridden up your hips, exposing your underwear completely to him, “Those are really cute, doll,” he teases you.

“You can’t distract me, we are not watching one of your movies,” your wrists struggle against his grasp.

“I can hold you here all night, sweetness,” his smile devilish.

You scowl at him, “If it means we don’t watch your movie, then go right ahead.”

His threat isn’t much of a threat to you, in this moment you feel yourself growing wet at his harsh hold on you. The way he effortlessly overpowered you making you feel some kind of way, you find yourself wishing he’d fuck you into the couch. You’re working yourself up the longer he holds you here. Your thighs lightly clenching at the thought of being opened up on his cock, the first man you’d ever be with.

“What are you thinking bout, sugar?” He asks, catching the faraway look in your eyes.

You blink once and shake the thoughts out of your head, “thinking about how much I don’t wanna watch your movie,” you retort.

“Aww you’re hurting my feelings here, doll.” His expression faux sadness.

Both of you looking into each other’s eyes, neither of you planning to cave, at least not anytime soon. Johnny has enough of it and decides to play dirty, his hands leaving your wrists and instead come up to tickle at your sides and ribcage.

Laughs fall from your lips, along with pleas trying to ask him to stop. The feeling making it harder to breathe, you’re taking in big breaths in between gasping laughs. Your body tries wiggling away from him, you manage to flip onto your stomach and try to crawl away from him but his thighs keep you locked in place, if anything you’re more immobile now. His tickling is unrelenting and you feel like you might pass out.

Tapping the couch as you say, “Okay, okay! I concede, just please stop!”

He hums and leans down from above you, whispering into your ear, “Good girl.”

You hide your face in the couch, skin hot and pussy aching, he isn’t being very nice to you tonight. Working you up, leaving you high and dry. He hops off you and grabs the remote, lifting your legs and sitting back down, resting them in his lap.

He slaps your leg lightly, “C’mon, you have to watch it now.”

Grumbling to yourself as you move up in a sitting position next to him, expression none too pleased. He’s smiling brilliantly at you though, overjoyed with his victory.

Sighing as you sink back into the couch, “I dislike you right now.”

“Well, I like you a whole lot right now,” He counters.

He flicks the movie on and you get about a third of the way into it when your eyelids start slipping shut, tired from the very difficult last couple days.

Thankfully, your dreams are pleasant, though they are filled with Johnny, mostly memories of last night, when you were stuffed full of his fingers, the sounds he was making, the words he spoke to you.

Your mind conjures images of him fucking you, how he would look above you, grabbing your hips as he rocked his dick in and out of you. The dream is pleasant, the feelings it offers you divine.

Suddenly, you’re being pulled back to your body, you awaken with a jolt.

“You fell asleep! That’s really rude of you, y’know. Hurting my feelings here, doll,” he criticizes you.

Based on the last scene you remember watching and where you are now, he either let you sleep for a while, or didn’t realise you were asleep.

You wipe at your eyes, “Mm sorry,” you mumble, stretching out a little.

He’s got an evil smile on his face when you look him in the eyes, “You were moaning.”

“Was not!” You don’t believe him.

“You definitely were, and I’d know,” his smile large as he teases you, “It was cute, what were you dreaming about, mmm?” he hums in delight.

You wonder for a moment what his end goal is here, he teases you but never follows through, aside from the other night but then he seemingly regretted that right after it happened. You decide to try something outside of your comfort zone.

You look at him, “And if I told you I was dreaming of you?”

He goes to shut you down, “I don’t–”

“–If I told you how wet I am right now, from thinking of you?”

“Don’t.”

“Why not?” You press.

“You know damn well ‘why not’,” He argues, “I’m older than you, and you’re a virgin!” He tells you these things like you don’t already know.

“…I want you, making my panties all wet,” you’re squirming in your seat lightly.

He groans out at your words, “Doll…” his expression is pained.

Feeling insecure you ask, “Do you not want me?”

“Are you kidding?” Dubious expression on his face, “You get me so hard, doll.”

“Then why won’t you even kiss me?”

“I want to, all the time,” he confesses.

You crawl across the couch and straddle his lap, his hands come up to your hips straight away. Grip digging into your skin, restraining his desire, wanting nothing more than to fuck into you how he wants.

“Why don’t you,” you press him for answers.

“Don’t trust myself around you, can’t help but tease you, touch you,” his grip on your hips tightens for a second, “The last thing I wanna do is take advantage of you.”

“I want you to take advantage of me,” the statement is true, you’ve never wanted to be with a man more than you do him.

He’s using every fibre of his being to control himself right now, refusing to do any more than hold you, his hands are holding you away from his lap. Knowing if he feels the warmth of your cunt through your panties, he’s going to lose his mind and all self-control.

Bringing your hands up, you place them on his shoulders, and then you lean forwards. Pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, moving to the other and placing a kiss there, his breaths become laboured. Your lips travel across his cheek, pecking him as you go, kissing the corner of his mouth, and then a light kiss to his full lips, he sighs against you and kisses you back.

It’s quick, because you’re continuing to peck kisses on his face, a kiss to the other corner of his mouth, and his other cheek again. As you travel back, kiss on the corner of his mouth again, and as you kiss him lightly on his lips, he kisses you back harshly, hands coming up and grabbing your face. He angles you and deepens the kiss, his kiss is desperate for you, fuelled by need.

Without his hands on your hips, you can drop to his lap properly, you sigh at the hardness of his dick against you, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into the kiss. You moan against his mouth in response and he groans.

Tentatively, you grind down into him lightly, needing some kind of friction. He distracts himself with kissing you, trying not to lose himself in the feel of your pussy grinding into his very hard dick. You’re so horny and this isn’t nearly enough for you.

Pulling away from his mouth you complain, “Want more.”

“You really are needy, aren’t ya, doll?” He teases.

But you roll your hips into his and he grunts in response, his hands gripping your hips again, without your lips on his, he’s hyper focused on the way you rut into his dick. You pull his sweats down, his cock bare, he’s not wearing anything under his pants and it has you moaning.

You sit down again; your panties are soaked and the feel of the slippery fabric rubbing up and down his cock has Johnny whimpering. You keep grinding into him, groaning in frustration, wanting more.

His hand grabs onto your panties and rips them from you, just straight up tearing them off your body, the display of strength makes you whimper.

“You gotta do this my way, sugar.” He tells you.

You nod your head at him, you’d probably agree to arson right about now.

“God, so fucken eager.” He chuckles at you, sliding you against him again.

The bare contact has you keening, rutting down onto him with more urgency. Wet squelching noises are filling the room as you slide against his cock, you want him inside you so badly. The thought of having him inside you making your cunt drool on his dick.

“You’re so fucken wet, ffffuck,” Johnny is groaning out, his control of the situation hanging on by a thread.

“I want you inside,” you tell him.

“No,” his voice is stern, it’s a line he refuses to cross.

You huff at him, “Johnny please–”

“ – You can plead all you want, Mm not fucking you, your first time isn’t –nghff– going to be on my damn couch,” his voice is strained.

“Want it,” you tell him, eyes teary with how needy you feel.

“And you think I don’t?” He snaps at you. His reaction makes your heart flutter and your pussy throb, “God, you are sooo –ngh– feel so good, sugar.”

His grip is guiding you now, taking control of the pace, of the pressure. He holds you tightly to him, slipping his cock through your slick folds, the head of his cock bumping your clit. Lewd wet sounds are coming from you and if you weren’t so horny you might’ve been embarrassed at how aroused you are.

The head of his cock catches on your pussy hole and you flutter around the very tip of him, a loud grunt coming from Johnny, his chest rumbling with the force of it.

“Please?” You try again, while he’s weak.

He shakes his head at you, his own expression dazed, “No…” he grits out, cock twitching against you.

You push down a bit on him, his eyes shoot to yours, a restrained kind of anger residing inside them, “I said no.” He scolds.

His chastising makes your cunt flutter against him again and his eyes roll back, he pulls you away from him. He manhandles you onto your back so you’re laying against the couch, he pulls off his shirt before spreading your legs open for him, his hips fitting between them.

Resting his cock between your folds again, slipping against you, “You take what I give you, or you get nothing, doll.”

You hum out a moan, letting him do whatever he wants to you. He tugs his shirt up your chest, exposing your upper half to him, mouth immediately going for one of your nipples, sucking and licking at it. The feeling making you whine, chest rising up into him, hips chasing his.

When he pulls away, he nips at you a bit, a shudder running down your spine. As he looks you in your eyes again he says, “Jesus, you have no idea how fucked out you look right now, pretty little girl, so fucken wet, so goddamn needy.”

He grinds down into you, leaning his body against yours, his weight resting on his forearms beside your head. Your hands grip his bare back, his head rests beside your ear, lips whispering filth to you.

“Want me to fuck you so badly hmm? Won’t fuck any of your little boyfriends –ngh– but you’re beggin’ me for my cock,” his words are disrupted by the moans he lets out at the feeling of your slippery cunt.

“Mhmm,” you agree because, yeah pretty much, “I’d let you do almost –hah– anything to me,” you tell him.

He curses, “Fucken filthy, you’re making me lose my goddamn mind, doll.”

You wrap your legs around his hips, locking them behind him, his movements grow more urgent, desperately humping into you. He pulls his head from your ear to kiss you deeply, tongue exploring your mouth, it has you moaning into him.

Pulling back, he checks, “Let me do anything?”

You nod your head at him in confirmation.

“Open your mouth,” his thumb tugs your lip down.

You open your mouth for him and he spits into your mouth, onto your tongue, the action makes you gasp, face hot.

“Swallow,” he says, eyelids low.

His voice makes you shudder and you swallow his spit down, the sight of it makes him curse. He kisses you again, taking your breath away. Your fingernails dig into his back.

His hips are rutting into you, pace growing quicker, the wet noises sounding slicker, the way he glides over your clit has your eyes crossing behind closed lids. Your moans turn into whimpers, right on the precipice of cumming.

Johnny pulls his lips back, forehead resting against yours, his brows knit together, moans falling from his lips. His tongue flicks over his lip quickly, you’re gasping under him.

“Look so fucken perfect, doll. Should I keep you like this under me? Play with you how I like, mmm?”

His words and deep voice are what send you over the edge, the idea of him teasing you how he pleases has you cumming. You’re sputtering out nonsensical words, whimpers ruining any words you try to create.

Johnny groans at the sight of you cumming, he looks down between the two of you, enamoured by how he’s sliding through your folds. His cock wet and shiny from your slick and cum, it has a shudder running down his spine.

“Wan you to – nghfffuck me nex time, wan – hah – na be fill with you, –mm– with your – ngh – cum,” you’re babbling to him, barely making sense to yourself, you aren’t even convinced you’re talking right now.

But Johnny knows you are, your words have him cumming violently, dick jerking against your cunt, his cum spilling all over your pussy and lower stomach. His groans turn into moans, and then he’s whimpering as he keeps rutting against you.

He looks at your lower half and the way his cum has gotten all over you, he uses two fingers to scoop it up and shoves them in your mouth. The taste bitter but you suck his fingers clean, swallowing around them. His gaze is captivated by you, groaning at you eating his cum.

Johnny gets up from you and tugs on his sweats, walking away momentarily and coming back not long later with a washcloth, wiping the rest of his cum off of you. When he’s cleaned it off you, he tugs your shirt back down, giving you back some of your modesty. Wandering off again, he disposes of the cloth and comes back with a glass of water.

“Drink this, sweetness,” he instructs, handing the cup to you.

Sitting up on the couch, you accept the cup and drink it down, appreciating the kindness. He sits beside you and strokes his hands up and down your thighs.

He takes the cup from you and places it out of the way, you’re a little dazed still, lost for words at what just happened.

“This can’t happen again,” he tells you gently.

Your expression is confused, “Why not?”

“I won’t be able to control myself next time.”

“I didn’t want you to this time,” you retort.

“Sugar, it’s not just a couple years between us, it’s a decade,” he stresses, “This is inappropriate.”

“Johnny, I appreciate your concern but I am an adult and I can choose who I sleep with.”

“I don’t want to defile you,” he’s terrified of ruining you somehow, of taking advantage.

“If you don’t want to ‘defile’ me, I’ll go fuck someone else and then it won’t be like I lost my virginity to you.” You’re just teasing him.

“Do not fuck someone else,” the look he gives you is even and serious, not even considering the idea of you having sex with someone else. He doesn’t find your comment funny.

You ask him eagerly, “Does that mean you will have sex with me?”

The look on his face is one of a good man trying so hard to stick to his morals. You smile at him sweetly and he practically melts for you, he grabs you and pulls you to him for a hug. Laying back on the couch with you resting on top of him.

He sighs, “Maybe one day.”

You can work with that for now, you smile to yourself, proud of your small win.

✰ ✰ ✰

A/N: Thank you for reading it all!!! I hope you enjoyed it; I wrote a 1k outline for this fic and I wasn’t expecting it to get this long but I’m not mad about it :)) Hopefully you aren’t either! I have a part two planned for this, I’ll probably only write it if people ask for it just cause this one took me a few days to write heheh. As always, requests are open, but don’t hesitate to reach out if you have questions about me, my blog, or specific fics, I love interacting with everyone and answering questions <33 I LITERALLY LOVE YOU ALL

˗ˏˋPart twoˎˊ˗

#johnny cage x reader #johnny cage x reader smut #johnny cage smut #johnny cage mk1 #johnny cage x you #mk1 smut #mk1 2023 #mk smut #smut #fanfic

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elllisaaa · 9 months ago

Note

Update! I’m back a legal adult now, as of yesterday as promised.😖🤞🏽 I missed you everyday babes😫🫶🏽, so I have a birthday request, how about Bangchan birthday sex?😵‍💫🤞🏽‼️

hiii lovely ! ngl i missed seeing you on my notifications too 😖 wishing you a big happy birthday even if i'm little late and i hope this will be enough of a present ! enjoy reading !

BIRTHDAY GIRL - BANGCHAN

-> pairing : softdom!chan x sub!reader

-> words count : 1.1k

-> genre : smut

-> warnings : teasing, dirty talk, praising, body worship, use of 'good girl', oral (f. receiving), fingering

+ the way i'm depicting chan does not represent him, it's only a work of fiction.

-> 18+ content bellow, minors dni

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language

-> masterlist | skz masterlist

Your birthday has never been too important to you. Sure you had little parties with your closest friends and family members, but not too much. But for Chan, it was way more than any other day of the year. He wanted to surprise you, to remind you how loved you were and how proud of you he was. So everytime he had a day off, he spent it planning this and organizing everything so that your friends and family could be there.

And all these sleepless nights trying to make everything perfect were definitely worth it when Chan saw the tears of joy in your eyes, and the biggest smile he had ever seen stretching out your lips. As he watched you laugh and be happy the whole night, talking with everyone he had invited, he couldn’t wait for the moment he’ll have you all for himself, couldn’t wait for the moment he’ll take care of his birthday girl.

When you closed the door of your shared apartment after your best friend finally left, you couldn’t help another smile from blossoming on your face. Chan was often away or busy with his work, but everytime he did things like this, you were remembered of how much he loved you, of how much he cared for you. You decided to leave the mess of the living room and the kitchen for tomorrow morning, walking to your bedroom to finally rest and have some time alone with your boyfriend.

“- Baby ? Where are you ?”

You frowned while searching for him in the empty room but not seeing him anywhere. However, you noticed a neat, black box displayed on the sheets of your bed. You approached it slowly, untying the white bow that was holding it together, and opening it to discover a beautiful lingerie set. It was in your favorite color, in the perfect shape to compliment every one of your curves.

“- Do you like it ?”

You turned around when hearing Chan’s voice, seeing him wearing only a pair of shorts and leaning against the doorframe.

“- If I like it ? Channie, it’s beautiful ! But it looks so expensive…”

Chan approached you, leaning down so that he could kiss your lips, hands coming down to hold your waist.

“- You know it doesn’t matter to me, I just want to spoil you baby.

- You really are too good for me…”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him down so that you could kiss him back, softly at first, sweetly. But Chan had been holding back the whole night from letting his eyes wander all over your body, and now that he had you all for himself, he needed to feel you. Quickly the kiss got more and more heated, his hands slipping under the hem of your dress to find their spot on your ass, and yours coming up to play with the strand of his hair, tongues dancing along with each other.

“- You look amazing, couldn’t stop watching you all night.

- Yeah ? I wore that dress for you, know that you like it a lot.

- Fuck… Yes, I do. But I want to get a look of what’s underneath, will you let me ?”

You only kissed him as an answer, sweeping the lingerie box away from the sheets and getting him down on top of you. Neither one of you was in a rush, wanting to savor the taste of your skins. Chan slowly got you rid of your little black dress that has been driving him crazy, kissing every inch of your body up and down, caressing the delicate skin with a feather-like touch. You surely did some more dirtiest things before, but to have your boyfriend worship you wasn’t too bad either. The slightest touch had you shivering and moaning quietly. Chan lazily marked your skin from your neck, to your breast that he spent a lot of time sucking and massaging, and finally down to face your now dripping cunt.

“- You’re so wet baby, want me that much ?”

The pout forming on your face had Chan giggling but he listened to your unspoken request, diving in your cunt and practically making out with it. He knew you loved it, and he loved it just as much, loved feeling your hands pulling on his hair when the pleasure was too much, loved having to hold you down so you stopped squirming away, loved hearing your broken moans for more.

“- Channie, feels so good…”

You could feel the proud grin on his lips as he sucked on your clit harder, one of his fingers entering as a reward for voicing your emotions. And also because he loved to be praised, loved to have you put into words how good he was making you feel. His tongue lapping at your juices paired with the now two fingers pumping in and out of you had you close to your orgasm already.

“- I’m so close Channie, can I cum please ?”

Your eyes were watery, feeling on the verge of crying as the pleasure was building up quickly, heating up your whole body. Chan detached himself from your pussy, his chin and lips covered in your slick, his gaze soft despite the smirk on his face when he looked back at you.

“- Such a good girl asking for permission… Go on baby, cum on my fingers.”

This was all you needed to let go, the knot in your stomach snapping, covering his hand in your release. The sight of your fucked out face and your loud moans resonating in the bedroom were enough for Chan’s cock to leak precum, and for making him crave more of you. But tonight was all about you, tonight was all about what you wanted and needed, tonight was all about satisfying you. Chan knew he was not always here when you needed him due to his packed schedule, but he intended on changing that right now by spoiling you and making it up for all the times he came home late and left you hanging on your own fingers and toys to cum.

And the smile on his face was telling you just that as he came up to your face, kissing you hungrily as his hands roamed all around your body once again. Chan was convinced that he would never get enough of you, of your taste, of your lips, of your hands on him. But for now, it was his responsibility to satisfy you, not yours. So he pinned your hands to the mattress, watching you restrain the little whimpers that were about to slip past your lips.

“- Tonight is all about you baby, let me make you feel good all night and relax, okay ?”

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my work.

skz taglist (fill in this to be added) :

@minnies-babie @binwons @yoongles2025 @thicccurls @caitlyn98s @sharonxdevi @skz1-4-3 @bbgnyx @hann1bee @lil-kpopstan @iraisswiftie @puppy-minnie

#stray kids #skz #stray kids fic #skz fic #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids smut #skz smut #bangchan #chan #bangchan x reader #chan x reader #bangchan smut #chan smut #eli answering your questions

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goldsainz · 1 year ago

Text

SPECIAL GUEST — one shot

pairing: daniel ricciardo x reader

MASTERLIST.

NOTE: this is inspired by the wonderful idea of @thatsdemko!! florence is the loml and i’ve been dying for an excuse to make a fic with her😭 i actually really liked writing this, anything daniel related is always so nice to make. also, this is coming out of my drafts sooner bc of danny’s bday!!!! i wish him a great day, lots of love and a hug 🫶

liked by danielricciardo, harrystyles and 3,852,047 others

yourusername cooking with y/n has gone to vogue… so to celebrate i will be doing another episode sometime this week!

view all 57,680 comments

ynfan1 i used to pray for times like this

ynfan2 nah we’re getting fed fr

haileesteinfeld i better get invited one day…

⤷ yourusername you’re always welcome!! 🫶

ynfan3 YAY!!!!! MORE COOKING WITH Y/N CONTENT

danielfan1 daniel… why are u lurking around here…

user1 i’m so proud of her

ynfan4 TELL US WHO THE MAN IN YOUR VIDS IS

ameliadimz You need to come over asap

liked by yourusername, chickenshopdate and 157,483 others

⤷ ynfan5 OMG??

liked by ynfan21, danielfan21 and 27,105 others

dr3updates Daniel seen with rumoured girlfriend, Y/N Y/L/N, strolling around in Australia!!

view all 407 comments

ynfan22 WHAT

danielfan22 daniel rizziardo strikes again

danielfan24 him taking his camera everywhere😭

⤷ user21 it’s kinda cute ngl

user22 they ain’t slick… this is 100% staged

danielfan25 NOT THIS HAPPENING AFTER HE MESSED UP IN THAT INTERVIEW

⤷ ynfan23 DON’T FORGET Y/N’S INTERVIEW

⤷ danielfan25 Y/N AND DANNY IS TOO MUCH POWER IN A COUPLE

ynfan24 her wearing his merch 🫶

yourusername has uploaded an instagram story!

danielricciardo responded to your story!

Daniel Ricciardo

Excuse me?

Y/N Y/L/N

i’m in the next room😭

Daniel Ricciardo

Idc

It’s almost my birthday and this is how you treat me 😔

Y/N Y/L/N

sorry not sorry

but please continue the princess treatment

🙏🙏🙏

Daniel Ricciardo

Mmm…

Just because I kinda like you

Y/N Y/L/N

don’t even

you love me

liked by maxverstappen1, willpoulter and 4,527,830 others

yourusername happy birthday to this menace and also my boyfriend!! 34 never looked so good on someone! i love youuu, sweetheart 💛🎉

view all 63,867 comments

danielricciardo Aww… so will you let me be your first and special guest on cooking with y/n or…

⤷ yourusername someday, mr ricciardo, someday…

ynfan31 EXCUSE ME

danielfan31 not even a hello, how are you… nothing

danielfan32 they’re too cute

maxverstappen1 Ok.

⤷ ynfan32 IM CRYING

⤷ danielricciardo You know the truth, Max ❤️

⤷ yourusername THE ONE TIME I MAKE A CUTE POST

ynfan33 sat for cooking with y/n ft daniel

user31 how did they keep this a secret for over a year😭

redbullracing We need you in the paddock!!

liked by yourusername and 274,639 others

ynfan34 THIS IS SO SPECIAL TO ME YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW

danielfan33 oh i hate them sm (i love them more than my parents and i don’t even know them)

2K notes · View notes

cvlutos · 2 years ago

Text

“No Nut November” Pt.3

| Repost: 01.09.23 | 1.4K | Mature |

NRC 3rd Years X GN!Reader

Earl’s Notes: A special thanks, to those who have reposted and shared as such with me<3

♡ TREY CLOVER ♡

LOSER #ONE

Let me preface all this with those who lost, lost most definitely on purpose, except for Cater and Idia. Trey’s losing. That’s his first thought when Ace and Deuce ramble about it to him and knows he’ll lose if you’re anywhere near him. If you just don’t ever acknowledge his existence, he’s automatically winning. But you don’t, 'cause he’s got baked goods that you like and they're free. Ain’t no way you're avoiding him. Trey also doesn’t take NNN super seriously, so it’s okay if he loses. I also have this slight thing that Trey already loves when people eat his deserts, but with you, it turns him alil on, not in a creepy way, but ya know. He’s turning the other way if you get any sorta food stuck on your lips, or face.

Ngl, he probably daydreamed about this exact scenario, as much as he hates to admit. He just learned a new recipe for your favorite dessert, deciding to add a Lil whipped cream. He was so proud of himself, as he texted you about it, and you, being a loyal friend without hesitation, pull up. You and whip cream, we know what this leads to. You, silly Lil, you end up with whipped cream on your face. Trey, without skipping a beat, imagines it as his cu—he has to excuse himself. Moving to his room to jack one-off. He’s extremely guilty after.

“I’m glad you like the dessert. I made it with you in mind.”

♡ CATER DIAMOND ♡

LOSER #TWO

Stood not a chance. Wasn’t even gonna try. He’s such a horn dog. It’s almost embarrassing at this point. 90% of the time, you're responsible for his third boner of the day. Because Cater is such a social phone person, he has multiple pictures and most definitely trades with Ruggie. He just has the most innocent to the most scandalous (as in you sleeping at Heartslabyul, don’t be weird) Like he has access to you, or your pictures 24/7, a recipe for disaster.

So, as always, it’s a nightly ritual at this point. Laying on his back, his roommates are far into dreamland. It’s late as his eyes gradually run along the phone screen, slowly pumping his dick. Your name is a silent cry on his lips. He’s shamelessly losing and doesn’t give a damn.

“[Nickname]! You are simply the cutest, letting me take a pic!”

♡ LEONA KINGSCHOLAR ♡

LOSER #THREE

Not only is it a chore to participate, but also a chore to actually do the deed. As well as Ruggie sending photo after photo of you, being you. Which has the lion beastman slightly interested, but far too damn lazy. Leona is lasting till the end of the month, simply because he doesn’t get horny, like could go weeks without masturbation. So it really is a ‘if he feels like it’ situation. Like if he needs to cum, he’s going to. Not some imaginary competition is stopping him. Though Leona attempts the competition for about 5 minutes before he’s bored with it.

He definitely forgets for the later weeks of November, till one compromising moment. Not even something inherently sexual, you had massages his ears, something that only lovers would do. Most definitely tried to ignore the boner that tightened his boxers as he tried to sleep, tossing in turning. He finally settles with a growl, nearly shoving his hands into his underwear. (Though I’m personally a firm believer Leona would never wear clothes to bed, you and Ruggie probably begged him to at least wear underwear so that when you had to wake the lion prince, he didn’t whack you in the face with that horse of his. Ruggie’s actually been slapped, which is hilarious)

“Leave me be, Herbivore. I’m not doing something so dumb.”

♡ VIL SCHOENHEIT ♡

WINNER #ONE

Short and sweet, if he’s going to cum to you, it’s going to be within your presence. He’s not going to fantasize about you, he’s going to have you. So he’ll wait till he has you. Period.

“I have no desire, Spudling. Why is it you care? Do you desire to bed me?”

♡ ROOK HUNT ♡

LOSER #FOUR

We saw how he is with Neige and this man damn near nearly cums with anything he sees as beautiful. Like he’s weird. Rook Hunt is mad weird. Though I love him for it. #RookHuntforPresident. Similarly to Cater, he has photos of you, physical and digital, and honest access to you at any point, though he’d never masturbate to you in a tree outside of ramshackle, he has thought about it. He honestly is similar to Vil. He wants to be able to fully experience you and revel in the moment with you, but he ends up thinking about it far too much which leads him being hot and bothered.

So that’s why he loses and isn’t that so beautiful, that he can put competition aside for love and beauty. His breath comes out as short huffs, legs unusually shaking, his hat discarded to the side. His face flush and eyes that seemed to glow, a low moan of your name, cum sputtering from his dick head.

“Mon très cher Trickster, permettez-moi de prendre soin de vous de toutes les manières!”

♡ IDIA SHROUD ♡

INDEFINITE LOSER

Idia is a hentai-watching, cum-drinking slut for you. Like I don’t make the rules. He hypes himself up for NNN, bragging, chatting, confident with all his lil e-friends, til the actual day NNN begins. His goal was to simply ignore you, like as if you didn’t exist, like you wouldn’t just show up uninvited. How hadn't he included that in his calculations? Most definitely has a school uniform kink, like have you met this man? You could be dressed for a day at the church and he’s cumming at the thought of you sucking him off while the choir sings of the lord. He’s shameless.

His hair wildly burning pink, voice stuttering as his tongue runs across his lips, trying to stop himself from drooling and cumming as he fucked his hand, leaning back in his gaming chair. Your voice is just so nice. His eyes roll into the back of his skull, a shuddered breath as he realizes he’s close. He damn near breaking his phone to hang up as he cums, painting his computer screen. Leaving you on the other line, completely confused.

“I-I-I wasn’t avoiding you! Just—Just working…. Yes! This game counts as work! Get Out!”

♡ MALLEUS DRACONIA ♡

WINNER #TWO

Now, why would you tell this man about NNN? Cause he’s genuinely distraught. Like should he win in your honor, or should he simply indulge in his desires to bed you? Literally asking Lilia, the worst person to ask, cause Lilia is having a field day. Best day of Lilia’s life. He’s telling Malleus to simply have fun and try. It’s better that way if you wait. The problem is Malleus doesn’t want to wait. Spoiled royal rich boy. I swear. Why must he suffer in simply doing what he pleases with his soon-to-be darling? Half of Diasomnia recognizes you as Malleus’ spouse, which is a little problematic once you actually go to the dorm and half the people are referring to you as if you're royalty. Malleus is absolutely pleased that Diasomnia accepts you, even though you aren’t together yet.

Malleus is the only one on this list who will directly go to you. Without a doubt, just appearing with little fairy lights in your bedroom, a large unhidden bulge. Like who let a horse in the house. Literally scares you out of your skin. Grim, luckily, isn’t home. He’s sorry but swears it’s urgent. Thinks you jacking him off is a loophole to NNN, he’s a darling. So when you send him away, embarrassed as hell, he’s sulking in his bedroom. Refusing to masturbate unless you're there. (Deadass sitting with arms crossed, glaring at the wall with a pout, boner still very prominent. He’s a spoiled, royal rich kid.)

“Then I will simply make them mine. That way I can indulge happily.”

♡ LILIA VANROUGE ♡

LOSER #SIX

Menace. Loses, cause it’s funny. You being scared by him turns him on. Like it’s hot to see your body flinch, and your eyes widen. Loves it. He’s lived so, so long, so the oddest of things turn him on. This is probably a cycle through all of November, him scaring you, but purposely not cumming till the very last day.

Teeth digging into his lower lip, hand slowly teasing, dragging along his cock, imagining it's you. Rolling his head to the side with a hot chuckle. Your name is hot and playful on his tongue. You’re so worth the wait, so worth the pain. Though this isn’t a victimless crime, you feel what he felt one day. (Bout to become a Lilia Supremacist)

“Fufufu~ [Name], you teasing little thing~”

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allur1ngs · 11 months ago

Text

✮ 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. ❞

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@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

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lilybug-02 · 1 year ago

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Happy 2 Year Anniversary to The Chara Timeline ✨

I FINALLY made drawing references for you guys, yippie!✨

It’s wild how long I’ve been working on this comic without reference sheets. I’m never that consistent with my art style, so I figured it was a waste of time 🫥💀😔 this is my first full comic okay…

Thoughts and Feelings About the Comic Below ❤️💖💕💞

Wow. It’s been 2 years??? I thought I would be done with this comic in 2 months! I don’t know whether to feel worried or accomplished!!

(With months between each update, I understand why it’s been 2 years. I’m a slow writer and artist and well- many things have come up in my life that had to come first, like my sisters wedding! 💞 and college 😅)

I want to thank my family and friends (WHO DO NOT READ THIS COMIC- THANK GOD) 💕 AND I want to THANK YOU! The readers! 💐💐

You guys are relentless! I’m as impatient as traffic and yet you guys wait for weeks or months at a time for like 4 pages?! You guys don’t even complain!!! I truly want to thank you all for that ❤️ it helps me so much. Being busy and getting burnt out are common and it helps me feel relaxed that i'm not on a timer. Literally tho- you guys keep this comic chugging I swear. Tysm 💐

Unorganized rambling about the comic ahead :) ⭐️🔥

—

My feelings with this comic are actually so complicated. On one hand I hate looking at my older art because GOD IT LOOKS SO OFF I want to stab it, and then on the other hand I am so so proud of myself for even continuing it this far. Ngl the weird route has been one of my favorite parts of this comic. It took me FOREVER to figure out an ending, but damn do I still get chills >:) hehe.

I’m still miffed that I named this project “Deltarune: The Chara Timeline” I could have gone for something so much COOLER. Doesn’t help I use like 7 different titles for it either. We got Deltarune the Chara timeline, Deltarune chara timeline, THE Chara timeline, chara timeline, Ct??? Man,,, I’m crazy. I take after my family so hard. We have 3 names for each of our dogs 💀.

Comic/Animation Tip i have learned. It is VERY GOOD to make the character relatively simple in design. Shape language is also super important, ((but I never really got around to doing that before I was half way through the comic, woops.)) These things can make ur process go by so much faster. This whole comic has been a HUGE learning curve. LIKE OH MY GOD. I had to learn how to draw backgrounds, write dialogue, plan a story, learn how to draw fast and draw noses (which god damn I really still can’t). And I had to learn how the heck to squeeze art into a tiny page and make it not look grainy. It's intense!

Anyways.... this has been such an awesome opportunity! Thanks Toby Fox!

I totally ran out of “art time” for my iPad and wanted to finish this today. So it’s a bit rushed. I’ll add weapons and possibly the other characters later :)

Oh shi- I forgot to add this grainy image of the next few pages lmao

#chara is literally built like a rectangle. idk why ive never noticed that #a thick greenbean #and Asriel is kinda half and half when it comes to standing on his toes or regular foot. He has a more top heavy approach to his balance #bread #undertale #deltarune chara timeline #my art #chara #asriel #character sheets #character references #art #deltarune #happy 2 year anniversary!!!!#college chara #college asriel #darkworld

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pallotdip · 1 month ago

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finally zine posting! :D aaaa i’m so late..

this was the first of the two pieces i did for @ygocookbookzine ! 🍨 i did alit’s BARian milkshake, with a lil er um diner twist 👯‍♀️👯‍♀️

this was my first zine experience and it was super fun to do! everyone was so sweet and did amazing, i’m really proud of all our hard work! 😊💞💞

aaaaand some wip stuff under the cut! working on this was so fun <33

the original idea

yes it was a lot. no i couldn’t fit the hands in. very sad about that tbh

the 3ds had to be there (cuz like???? the 3ds zexal game?? i had to show that somehow)

the colors were hard to decide and i eventually settled, but i still like the darker one ngl…. the red eye is so cool

and a bonus that i never got to flesh out in time, which is ok! maybe someday

also psst… the bow tie heart’s face was based off of omori’s sprout moles! 🌱 and the menu hearts were based off hanna-barbera cartoons! 🐻 bonus fun fact :0

this was so fun! 😊💞💞

#i’m super late to this but i’ve been caught up in like a lot of stuff lately ahaaa :’D #i want to just quietly sip a milkshake now #yugioh zine #yugioh cookbook zine #ygo zine #yugioh #ygo fanart #ygo zexal #alito yugioh #alito zexal #my art #pixel art #dot pict

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ghostsarepeopletoo-2 · 1 month ago

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My Live DRDT episode 16 reaction

HERE WE GO CHATT

SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT

“Are we all ready to vote?” It’s so Aceover

how much you wanna bet David voted for Teruko

“Congratulations!” ITS ACEOVER 😭

“I’m proud of us-!” Can he stfu already

“What do you have to say in your defense?” Can SHE stfu already I’m sorry Hu fans but at this point she makes me want to punch the wall

“I killed her. And if you never forgive me for that, then there’s nothing I can say.” THE NICO PARALLELS?!?!! THE FOILS OF ALL TIME

“This… This all could have been prevented, couldn’t it?” YES THANK YOU EDEN

of course Eden would be the one to point that out first…

“It’s just… misfortune.” Yeah you would know a thing or two about that wouldn’t you

I actually see this line as Teruko refusing to accept either blame or the idea that she could turn out like Ace

“So we can’t possibly blame ourselves…” Hu. HU.

This time I KNOW she’s refusing to accept blame. It’s become a theme in her character, that she refuses to take criticism or herself or those she cares about. It’s a very interesting character trait and I really love her as a character but oh my GOD does she make me mad-

I guess I should specify that while it’s technically everyone’s fault that Ace committed the murder, it’s Ace’s fault most of all for making himself so unapproachable in the first place. I’m not gonna ignore that just because he’s my fav, I’m not gonna do the same thing I literally just criticized Hu for. However, it was Nico’s botched murder attempt that led to Ace finalizing his murder plan, and Hu’s blind defense of Nico didn’t help matters. Out of everyone she might be one of the people who made him want to kill the most.

“… He was happier, and he trusted people more.” “Like adding stones one a pane of glass… until eventually, the glass cracks.” Okay nvm you guys really did ruin him didn’t you

“Nico’s attempted murder isn’t a cause, it’s just a symptom…” Maybe I was wrong okay I’m sorry Hu

“Whatever. Whatever!” Uh oh

“Did you all get the Veronika virus or what?” “You all are wrong, so shut up!” I was gonna say, it’s pretty rude to talk about him like he’s not there 😭

“I didn’t want to die. That’s all.” My boy… my boy you are cooked

“Don’t think that I forgot about your secret, you damn murderer!” Man I was so sad about everything else I almost forgot about Acevi. Almost.

“It’s really funny in hindsight how you acted all betrayed when you found out Levi was a murderer, as if you were unaware that you yourself had killed someone.” I fucking hate him but fair.

I’m not gonna quote anything else David says unless it’s important because I hate him with a burning passion

“But still, I-! I don’t care what it was! I don’t care if it made me a hypocrite!” Acevi is gonna kill me dead just fyi

“I just needed a reason to stay mad at you…!” This yaoi is so doomed I’m gonna kms/j

“I can’t understand you, no matter how hard I try.”

“I need you to do a favor for me right now. It might just save your life.” Huh???? Wha??? Teruko what’re you cooking

is she gonna ask Ace to dropkick Monotv omg

“The whole reason this killing game keeps going on is because we’re all forced to follow MonoTV’s rules.” HOLY SHIT SHE IS

I wanna see a cg of Ace vs. Monotv so bad ngl

“Yeah, more murder! Wait, what??” I love this stupid cat. Rip Monotv you will be missed

“I can’t…do it.” What is wrong with him/genuine concern

“I don’t wanna die. I can’t do that-” my brother in Christ you are cooked anyway. Go out in a blaze of glory

OH MY GOD A WHOLE ENTIRE FUCKING ANIMATION!?!?!! AND HE GOT MONOTV, ITS MONOVER

I FUCKING KNEW THAT WOULDN’T WORK THERE’S NO WAY- wait did that say XF-TURE?!?!?!!

XF-TURE IS BEHIND THIS, OR AT LEAST CREATED MONOTV

Help ain’t no way Ace’s about to get cooked by a default personality 😭

“Sorry, Ace.” Help 😭

“To run this killing game until the death of every participant.” WHAT

okay lore drops this episode: XF is behind, or at the very least heavily involved in, the game. The game is designed to run until every participant is dead, implying that the mastermind wants every participant dead- possibly including themself. If that’s true it puts major points for people such as Hu, David, or maybe Whit to be the mastermind as they have been shown to have suicidal ideation. (Whit not so much but I can assume)

“I will pass the punishment for breaking the rules to the one who made that decision.” ITS TEROVER. wait but she’s the ultimate lucky so she’s probably gonna survive

imagine it becomes a running “joke” that Teruko has a near death experience in every chapter lol

ITS TEROVER- does she not gaf 😭 maybe Teruko could be up there with our suicidal peeps

she really doesn’t gaf 😭

this is so wild she doesn’t care bc she’s lucky and her life sucks and-

“I was perfectly willing to get shot.” Was???

ITS LEVIOVER NOOOOOOOO

MY POSITIVE ASPD REP 😭

ACEVI BOTH DOWN IN ONE CHAPTER WE ARE SO COOKED

“LEVI!!” Oh so you do care. Okay. Okay. A single tear rolls down my cheek

oh yeah I forgot about Charles’s whole thing. Thanks for being a good bf Whit

“His injuries are not fatal.” PRAISE THE LORD HALLELUJAH

YOU CAN’T TAKE HIM TO THE INFIRMARY YOU HAVE TO WATCH ACE GET COOKED- wait YO IS THAT A SAD WHIT SPRITE??? Isn’t that one of the harbingers of the apocalypse or smthn

Ace is gonna die not knowing if Levi survived… oghgh

Ace speeding up his own death to save Levi 😭 I’m gonna 😭

“Stop saying you can’t do it, because you can!” Maybe with the power of belief, anything is possible

Ace is gonna die and Arturo’s gonna be like “yeah Levi’s dead” like immediately

ARTURO HAVING A MOMENT THATS NOT ABOUT HIM SUCKING HELL YEAH

not Ace calling him a coward 😭 stones in glass houses looking ass

here we go boys/gn… it’s Aceover

HES COOOKED

NOT A THANATOPHOBIA THEMED EXECUTION I QUIIIIT

the last ones gonna be death by horses just watch

DID HE DIE OF FEAR???? IM KILLING MYSELF

THERES NO FUCKING WAY THAT HORSES WEREN’T EVEN MENTIONED

Teruko what’s your deal

“I’m a hypocrite” chewing on her. Grrr grrr

“I have no choice…” there is no way drdt is out here trying to give depth to the MONOKUMA equivalent, of all things. I’m out

she blames herself… honey no…

the. the ending. I’m killing myself I quit I can’t-

ace has hand trauma too??? You know what sure at this point

you don’t get any final thoughts bc I’m tired. Have a nice day

#danganronpa despair time #monotv #ace markey #david chiem #teruko tawaki #hu jing #nico hakobyan #eden tobisa #veronika grebenshchikova #j moreno #levi fontana #acevi #charles cuevas #whit young #charwhit #(barely)#arturo giles #rose lacroix

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caplanbuckybarnes · 1 month ago

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Unhappily Married (Jason Todd)

Summary: you're in an arranged marriage. You won't be unhappy.

Warnings: Flangst, Arranged Marriage

WC: 770

A/N: really proud of this one, ngl.

Read on Ao3!

The grand hall was cold, despite the warmth of the chandeliers overhead and the rich velvet curtains that adorned the windows. Your wedding gown, heavy with intricate lace and satin, felt more like a chain binding you than something meant to celebrate the happiest day of your life.

But this wasn’t the happiest day of your life.

Jason stood across the room, leaning against a table, his tux slightly askew, his hands shoved into his pockets. He was scowling—though to be fair, he was always scowling. But tonight, it felt sharper, the weight of the forced union hanging between you like an impenetrable wall.

The marriage had been arranged, a deal struck between families—his and yours. It wasn’t love, and you doubted it ever would be.

You walked over to him, needing to break the tense silence. "We should talk."

Jason didn't even look at you, his gaze still fixed somewhere out the window. "What's there to talk about?" His voice was rough, distant.

You crossed your arms, frustration bubbling to the surface. "I get that you’re not happy about this either, but we can’t ignore each other forever."

Jason finally turned his head, meeting your eyes with that intense, hardened stare he’d perfected. “I never wanted to marry you,” he said bluntly, his voice cold but filled with an honesty that cut through you like a blade.

You stiffened at his words, though they weren’t exactly a surprise. You had known, from the moment the arrangement was announced, that Jason Todd was not a willing participant. But hearing him say it aloud? That hurt more than you had expected.

“Trust me, I never wanted to marry you either,” you shot back, your tone sharper than you intended. “But here we are, so what do you suggest we do? Just hate each other forever?”

Jason sighed heavily, pushing himself away from the table and stepping closer. His eyes softened just slightly, though the tension in his posture remained. “I don’t hate you. I don’t even know you.”

“That’s the problem, isn’t it?” You met his gaze, refusing to look away. “We don’t know each other at all. And now we’re stuck in this… this marriage. I’m not asking for us to fall in love overnight, but we can at least try to make this bearable.”

Jason ran a hand through his hair, looking conflicted. “Look, I get it. This whole thing is messed up. But I’m not exactly great at… letting people in.”

You sighed, the weight of the situation pressing on your chest. “I’m not asking for you to pour your heart out, Jason. But I can’t be in a marriage where we’re just pretending the other person doesn’t exist. We owe each other more than that.”

Jason’s jaw clenched, his eyes flickering with something you couldn’t quite place. Regret, maybe? Guilt? He took a deep breath, stepping closer, his voice lower now, softer. “I never wanted to marry you… because I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the shift in his tone. “What do you mean?”

His eyes held yours, and for the first time, you saw the weight of the life he carried—his dangerous world, his enemies, the shadows that always seemed to follow him. “You don’t deserve to be dragged into the mess that is my life. I’m not exactly the kind of guy who can promise you some perfect, fairytale marriage.”

Your heart softened as the pieces started to click into place. Jason wasn’t just being difficult—he was trying to protect you. He was pushing you away because he was scared of what being with him might mean for you.

“Jason…” you said quietly, stepping closer. “I don’t need perfect. I just need honest. And I can handle more than you think.”

He looked at you, really looked at you, and for the first time, some of the hardness in his expression melted away. He still seemed conflicted, but there was a shift, a tiny crack in the armor he kept around himself.

“I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted, his voice low. “But I’ll try. For you.”

Your breath hitched, surprised by the vulnerability in his words. Slowly, you reached out, taking his hand in yours. His grip was hesitant at first, but he didn’t pull away.

“That’s all I’m asking,” you whispered, giving him a small smile. “We can figure this out together.”

Jason’s gaze softened as he looked down at your joined hands, and for the first time since the marriage had been arranged, there was a glimmer of something you hadn’t seen before—hope.

consider joining my tags list?

#jason todd x reader #jason todd au #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x male reader #jason todd x oc #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd fic #jason todd angst

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rosemarie333 · 1 month ago

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Astro Opinion(Vedic Sextologyyyy 🔞)

I should be sleep but at the same time I can’t because I want to do this one HEHEHEHE

Please do not read if under the age of 18.

ANYWAYSSSS this is my own opinion. All women are safe and sound here but not necessarily for the menzies LMAO sn sn all is welcomed buttttt my opinion is strong so beware. Also I am not well versed in astrology that well but I’m using my own opinion from my experiences with others soo hehe let’s get started!

I’m writing this and tbh I feel like a weird energy when saying this like someone is sitting my stomach and i feel like spinny like IMMA SPEAK WITH MY CHEST STOP IT SPIRIT

1. NOWWWWW girlie don’t ever get me started on a jupiterian man. They are the ones with the biggest THANGS ever but every one that i met doesn’t know how to rock the boat. Like how god bless u with a big one yet you not don’t nun?????? PLEASEEEEE help me. I remember my first ex who was a vishakha moon, uttara bhadprapada sun and jythesta rising like you would think he’d know what to do but baby no. LIKEEEEEEEEEEEE it was so many times i would leave unsatisfied and i don’t know why i kept going back😭😭😭😭. AND we had 7th house synastry AND FUCKING 5th house (well i did to him and my venus was in his 7th) and it still wasn’t good lol idk what lies i’ve been told but bitch 8th house synastry is where it’s at FUCK THE 5th ( i’m kidding LMAOOO)

2. Martian Men, please dm me🙏🏾. I know some people can’t handle the aggression and tbh i can handle it to an extent but like at the same time i love aggression (i’m a krittika sun and venus in kritikka in as my ak in my D9 which i’m not proud abt but I LIKE AGGRESSION). I had a fling with a Dhanishtha sun and Pushya moon man and omg it was great. I also watched Claire Natiki (love her!) where she talks about ashleshas wanting to be dominated and advising us to try martian people bc they have warmth to them we don’t have LMAO bc yk where serpents and we have this cold coiled energy which was SPOT ON BITCH he made me feel some thangs and really took me out of my shell. Too bad he was immature and he wanted to fit in with losers. i think he was a uttara phlanguni rising.

3. Moon men count your days. Y’all are so fucking conservative just like the ladies and for what? I dated a chitra sun man with a magha moon and i think ashlesha rising with a hasta venus and here i am reading that debilitating or fall placements do better than the exalted or the other one and BITCH WHERE WAS THAT IN HIM! LMAO LIKE his whole thing around sex was very tip toey and i respect that he wasn’t necessarily domineering and things but he wasn’t so nice to me in the sexual topic of things. i can attest i wasn’t the best either as reassuring him and i wasn’t perfect in the relationship 😭😭😭(bc i’m a sexual person he felt that i would cheat on him like nigga wtf u mean u cheated on everyone you have been like BE SCARED OF URSELF TF!) anyways he cheated on me and ghosted me after i stupidly took him back so💀 even i’m lunar dominant and i can be conservative at times but tbh i can’t and could never hide the fact that i’m a sexual girly 🤷🏾‍♀️. once i taught him what i liked it did get so much better tho ngl😋

4. Saturn mennn i have a love hate relationship with y’all likeeee very dominant which is what i like but y’all also sassy like how that works? LMAO

Never had an experience with solar men but they are very egotistical and yk CHEATERS so

Mercurial men idkkkkkkk i haven’t experienced any one of y’all so YALL SAFE or venusian men that i remember LMAO. But venusian men are def the type to fuck the baddest in the room for the status LMAO imo idk.

As someone with a sun DK and saturn AK lol 😭def a pattern i see but overall i think i had the best experiences with martian men tbh hehehe hbu y’all! (would love to hear other’s experiences)

#astro opinion #vedic astro observations

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moni-logues · 2 years ago

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Dickless

Pairing: Taehyung x reader

Genre: basically pwp but like, enemies to lovers if you REALLY squint

Summary: Your boyfriend won't go down on you and it is a Problem. Fortunately, your friendly neighbourhood fuckboy (or is he??) Taehyung is there to lend a mouth hand.

Word count: 11.1k

Content: oral sex (f. receiving), protected sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, infidelity, some very poor communicating

A/N: it's another repost!!! because this just hit 2k notes on the old blog 🥺🥺🥺 I have a secret soft spot for this fic, ngl. I'm secretly (not so secretly) proud of the smut; I tried to do something a bit different with my writing and I like how it came out, at least those parts. I have not edited this at all due to the aforemetioned bottle of wine so, here it is as it always was

ETA: the sexual politics of this one are 🥴😬 because reader essentially won't accept the truth that sexual incompatibility is both real and a valid reason to not continue a relationship. No one should be pressured into doing something they don't want and that extends to her bf! It's not his fault! She should have dumped him months ago! And she didn't! And she's in the wrong for that!! To be clear: she is in the wrong!!!!

That said, she's not a total cunt; she is struggling with it and doesn't want to break-up with him because she does (did) love him and she feels like she should just be able to give up this thing because it's only her, it's only what she wants, it doesn't really matter-- except it does matter; what she wants does matter and she had to come to terms with that and the fact that that means she and her bf can't be together.

* * *

You remembered the first time you saw Taehyung. You were at a bar your friend had dragged you to because she knew he would be there; they had been sleeping together for a couple of weeks and she wanted to ‘casually’ run into him as he had stopped replying to her texts.

“There he is,” Tara had hissed, pointing to a tall man across the room, dark curls bouncing on his brow, long fingers curled around a wine glass, and an intense look on his face.

Moving further into the room, it had then been revealed that the target of his gaze was another woman and, despite your friend’s best attempts, Taehyung was not interested. She had dragged you to the toilets where she cried, real, huge tears.

“It’s just been a couple of weeks, hasn’t it? Did you say you were exclusive?” you had asked, trying to be sensitive but shocked at the display of emotion. She wasn’t usually like this.

“I’m not crying because I’m in love with him or something!” she had replied, her voice thick with tears. “I’m crying because he’s never going to sleep with me again!”

“What?”

“If he’s done with me, then that’s it. I’m done for. I’m done with sex.”

She had fixed you with a wet, shining stare.

“No one is as good in bed as Taehyung.” Her voice was hushed, awed. “He... You just don’t know if you haven’t slept with him, ok? He has ruined me. I can never sleep with anyone else, not knowing that he’s out there somewhere, not sleeping with me. No on-”

“No one is that good at sex. Come on; it’s not like he’s got a magic dick or so-”

“Yes, he has! He absolutely has. But it’s not just his dick – it's his everything. I’m telling you, y/n-” she had sniffled for dramatic effect, her tears were mostly dried- “he’s the best I’ve ever had or will ever have and, honestly, if he ever shows any interest in you, take it.”

“I have a boyfriend.”

“I don’t care.”

Your mouth dropped open in shock; she knew your boyfriend; you had thought they got along well; but she interrupted you before you could argue.

“I’m serious, y/n. This is a hall pass situation. Do not turn Taehyung down.”

“So I can end up like you, crying over his dick in a toilet?”

She had fixed you with a death glare but could not exactly say you were wrong.

* * *

That was months ago now. And, somehow, Taehyung kept popping up in your life. At the pub, at bars, at a party where you weren’t even sure he knew anyone – he just happened to be there. It wasn’t that you didn’t like him because you didn’t even know him, but you certainly had no interest in getting to know him. Men like him were ten a penny and, despite what you had been told about him, you were not convinced he was all that in the sack, because men like him never are.

He was certainly handsome; you wouldn’t deny that. But attractive? No one that smug, that arrogant, could ever be attractive to you. Someone who thinks the world is at their feet, that everyone should fall to their knees for them, that other people exist only for their delectation... That was disgusting, not sexy. Even if you hadn’t had a boyfriend, you knew there was no way his ‘charm’ could work on you. All bluster and machismo and that quirked eyebrow and little smirk? No, thank you.

“You know, I’ve been seeing you around a lot, but I don’t think we’ve ever spoken.”

The voice came from behind you and you knew, without having to look, who it would be. You replied not even bothering to turn around.

“No need. I know who you are.”

“Oh? And who am I?”

He was next to you then, leaning against the wall, your arms touching.

“You’re Taehyung with the magical dick.”

“Oh, is that what they call me?”

“Well, I don’t-”

“You just did.”

“I don’t but rumour has it... Of course, I don’t believe a word.”

“There are rumours going around that I have a magical dick and you don’t believe them... You know there’s one way to know for sure?”

You turned to him, then, stared into his eyes – wide, innocent, as if he wasn’t just asking you to fuck him without even knowing your name – and scoffed.

“No, thanks. I have a boyfriend.”

“And does he have a magical dick?”

You didn’t hesitate, not really, not for more than half a second, but it was enough.

“Oh, sweetheart, that’s a real shame. You want my number so you can pass it on to him? Maybe I could give him some tips?”

“Ugh, goodbye, Taehyung.”

You pushed yourself off the wall and made your way through the room, but he followed after you.

“Or,” he continued. “You could just take my number and not pass it on, maybe keep it for yourself. In case of an emergency or-”

“Emergency? What emergency might I possibly ever have that I would require your assistance?”

He leant down, so close that you could smell his shampoo and his drink on his breath. His cheek barely brushed yours as he brought his lips to your ear.

“Maybe your boyfriend with the disappointing dick can’t get you off and you’re so on edge that you think, god I’d do anything, anything, to come right now, but you can’t. Then you’re lying there, hot and bothered and unsatisfied, yearning for something, someone, to come and sort you out, to show you the kind of pleasure you’ve not even ever dreamt of. And you think of me, and my magical dick, and you think, oh how I wish I’d taken his number; if I had his number, I’d call him right no-”

You put a hand against his chest and pushed him back.

“I’m not taking your number and I’m not going to call you. This-” you gestured broadly to him “this doesn’t work on me. You’re a fuckboy and I don’t fuck with fuckboys. Goodbye.”

As you walked away from him for the second time, he didn’t follow and you had to stop yourself turning around to see if he was still looking at you. It didn’t matter if he was or not, but you liked the idea of denying the undeniable man, of being one person he couldn’t charm, couldn’t win over. You didn’t care if his dick really was magic or not because you knew you would never be finding out.

* * *

The next time you saw him was a few weeks later, at a party. He was on the sofa, slouching low, an empty glass held slack in his hand, dangling at the end of his wrist. He wasn’t talking to anyone, not making moves or scanning for prey; just sitting, staring into space. You turned away from him; you didn’t want to think about a sex god right now; you didn’t want to think about sex full-stop. You ideally wanted to not think at all. You left the room.

Later that night, when you went back inside, you saw him again. He was still sitting on the sofa, empty glass (the same one?) in hand, still staring into space. You briefly wondered if he was on drugs and, if he were, whether that was deliberate or he’d had his drink spiked. Most people seemed to be ignoring him, or they hadn’t noticed him at all. You sat down next to him.

“No conquest tonight?”

“Nope.”

“What? Not even one? You can’t be telling me your magical dick would miss an opportunity like this: all these people, drinks flowing, inhibitio-”

“I said no.”

He tipped his head over the back of the sofa and stared at the ceiling.

“Are you ok?”

“Yep.”

“Are you lying?”

“Yep.”

You had to stifle a giggle and take a pause before you continued.

“Don’t tell me you’ve had your heartbroken. Mr Magical Dick, Mr Fuck Anything That Moves, Mr Don’t Keep Anyone Around For More Than Two Weeks has had his little heart broken?”

You could see his jaw work as he tongued at the inside of his cheek, as if deliberating whether or not he would confide in you.

“In a manner of speaking.”

The way you gasped was uncharitable, and on a different night, you might have been less callous, but misery loves company and you were delighted to find out that someone else – Kim Taehyung at that – was having relationship problems. You were just fixing on your best retort, tidying it up on the tip of your tongue when he spoke again.

“Before you say whatever clever remark you’re currently labouring over, my fucking grandmother died, ok? So save it.”

“Oh.” Surprised didn’t even come close. “I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

He stood and walked away but you followed him, up the stairs and into an empty bedroom where he collapsed on the bed. You followed him in and shut the door behind you, but stayed next to it, unsure what to say or do.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you ventured.

“No.”

“Do you want to drink about it?”

He lifted the empty glass in his hand as if he were about to take a sip and then held it out to you.

“Sure.”

“Ok, uh, stay here then and I’ll be back.”

When you returned to the bedroom (bottle of unfortunately cheap vodka in hand), you thought he must have left: the bed was empty. Then you saw his feet poking out from the other side and found him lying on the floor. You took his glass, poured him a drink, and watched him as he knocked it back. He grimaced and looked at you.

“This is horrible.”

“Yeah, I know, but I figured it wouldn’t be missed. Sorry.”

He held his glass up for more.

You sat, drinking in silence. You didn’t know what to say to him and he was obviously not interested in conversation so part of you wanted to leave him alone, but he hadn’t told you to leave, and he was still holding his glass out for more, and you didn’t really feel like he should’ve been alone. So, you stayed. It was nice, actually. You hadn’t really been in the mood for a party – you had just wanted to get out – so you were enjoying the quiet. You were enjoying the way the vodka was making you warm, edges all fuzzy and soft, the noise far away.

“She basically raised me.”

His voice was quiet and thick; you weren’t sure if he was talking to you or just talking.

“Yeah?”

“She-”

He looked at you then, his eyes not quite focusing, and stopped talking.

“You can tell me about her, if you want.”

He shook his head with a groan and drew his knees up to his chest, dropping his head between them.

“I’m going to go home,” he said after another short while had passed.

“You sure?”

He nodded.

“Can you get home ok? Did you need me to get you a taxi or call someone?”

He shook his head and fished his phone out of his pocket, waving it at you, unlocking it to order a car. You almost didn’t reach out for it, but you knew you would feel responsible if something happened, so you took his phone and entered your number into it.

“Please let me know when you have got home safe, ok?”

He looks at you, suspicious, and then playful as that all-too-familiar smirk returns to his lips.

“It was all a ruse, huh? Get me drunk and give me your number under the pretence of concern for me, huh? I knew you wanted me.”

“What I want, Taehyung, is to not be the last person to see you alive and the subsequent subject of a murder investigation.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever you say. You’re the one who calls me magic dick...”

He winked at you and then turned, waving a hand in your direction, stumbling down the stairs. You figured you might as well call it a night yourself.

You were back in your apartment, washed and undressed, tapping impatiently at the side of your phone, not sure if you should wait to hear from Taehyung or assume that he’d forgotten and just go to sleep yourself. Then a message came in from an unknown number.

A head shot, but with enough of his shoulders displayed to make it clear he was topless, his black hair splayed on the pillow behind his head. He had his eyes closed, his fingers in a V over his mouth.

???: Didn’t die.

???: Unlike my grandma 🙁

You choked on surprised laughter.

y/n: Glad you got home ok. Sorry about your gma 🙁

* * *

Your phone rang the next evening while you were making tea and you answered without looking who was calling.

“Hello?”

“What the fuck is this I hear about you and Kim Taehyung?”

It was your boyfriend.

“Uh, I don’t know; what did you hear?”

“Apparently, you’re fucking.”

“WHAT?!”

“Apparently, when you were out last night, you and Taehyung went into a bedroom for a very long time and he came out looking very pleased with himself.”

“Ok and? That means we’re fucking, does it?”

“I don’t know; I’m asking you.”

“Ok, well, no, we didn’t. We didn’t really do anything. We just sat and drank.”

“What do you mean you just sat and drank? What even is that?”

“I mean we literally sat and drank. I wasn’t in a good mood and neither was he, so I nicked a bottle of vodka from the kitchen and we sat in the dark, in silence, drinking it. That’s it.”

There was an aggrieved sigh from the other end of the phone.

“So, it’s my fault, is it? Is that what this is about? You trying to make me jealous or some sh-”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m supposed to believe it’s just a coincidence that, almost immediately after we have an argument about me not going down on you, you end up at a party with the most notorious fuckboy in the fucking country?”

You could feel anger swelling within you, sweat pricking on your back and in your palms.

“Believe what you want. I’m telling you nothing happened.”

You hung up. You were not about to be accused of cheating by a guy who, frankly, already owed you an apology. As if you would’ve done that. Even if you had been single, you wouldn’t have slept with Taehyung – not ever, but certainly not last night. You had a little more decency than that. Hell, even Taehyung had more decency than that. You tried to push it from your mind; if you had been your boyfriend, maybe you would’ve thought it, too, or at least, felt insecure about it or unsure. You could admit that it didn’t necessarily look great – you were very aware of Taehyung’s reputation and maybe you should have considered that before shutting yourself in a room with him. But you also knew you hadn’t done anything wrong. So you were prepared to let it blow over.

* * *

Taehyung: You coming tonight?

y/n: Coming where?

Taehyung: Jimin’s party?

y/n: 🤷‍♀️ not invited

Taehyung: Ok, I’m inviting you.

Taehyung: So you coming?

y/n: Can’t. Have a date

Taehyung: You dumped disappointing dick??!!! 😄😄😄

y/n: No.

y/n: He’s still my boyfriend. My date is with him.

Taehyung: Boo 😒 let me know when you finally leave him

y/n: Fuck off, taehyung

* * *

You didn’t see him for a few weeks after that, until you found yourself actually searching for him, peeking into dark corners in clubs and bars to see if he was there. You weren’t sure why you did; you weren’t friends and you certainly weren’t interested in him. But you were intrigued. You always assumed people like him were shallow – truly of the no thoughts, head empty kind. You hadn’t really considered that he might be a real person under there somewhere. Albeit a smug, arrogant, charmless, shameless person. Who may or may not have had a magic dick.

You thought about what your friend had said, the first time you met Taehyung. How she had cried, not because she liked him, not because he broke her heart, but because she would never get to sleep with him again. You couldn’t imagine it, sex that good. Not that the sex you had was bad (it wasn’t), it was good, even, but you couldn’t imagine it being so good, so much better than now that it would inspire such a reaction.

You began to think about it more and more as things with your boyfriend went from bad to worse.

The club was hot and loud and you were happy to be drunk and dancing. Happy, that is, until you weren’t. Your phone buzzed once, twice, three times, four times. You knew it was your boyfriend and you knew it was because you were out without him. Which was kind of the whole point; you didn’t want to speak to him.

You wandered outside to the smoking area, for some air, to scan your eyes over your boyfriend’s messages and see if there was anything worth replying to. And there was Taehyung. He hadn’t seen you yet and you knew you had only a few seconds before he turned around and noticed you. You realised, with what might have been clarity or might have been too much gin, that of all the people in all the world that you might speak to about your problems, Taehyung was probably the best: experienced, not your friend, you didn’t care about his opinion of you, and he didn’t think much of your boyfriend.

“Hey, Taehyung,” you called as you approached.

He turned and his smug, little smirk turned into a genuine smile when he saw you.

“Y/n! It’s been a while. Still being disappointed in the bedroom?”

You almost changed your mind.

“Shut up, Taehyung. I have to ask you something.”

“Go ahead.”

“You have a lot of sex, right? Like, a lot of sex with a lot of different wome-... people? Right?”

He shrugged.

“Some, sure. Maybe a lot. Depends who’s asking.”

“Whatever, you know what I mean. When you have sex with someone with a... with uh, a vulva, do you go down on them?”

He looked at you as if you had suddenly grown another head and, when he answered, he spoke slowly, as if you were an idiot.

“Yes, if they have a pussy, I go down on them.”

“Always? Like, every time?”

“Well, I guess probably not 100% of the time, but... I don’t know, 95?”

This was not the answer you had been hoping for.

“Why are you a-” He cut himself off with a gasp and looked at you, shock and glee in equal measure on his face. “Does Disappointing Dick not go down on you?”

You blushed furiously, your face hot, and stomped your foot, shushing him viciously.

“No,” you admitted, through gritted teeth. “No, he doesn’t. Not ever.”

“Not ever?”

“Not ever.”

“Like, not even a little?”

“I said not ever! What do you not understand about those words?”

“Why?”

“You mean why doesn’t he?” You shrugged, trying to appear more unbothered than you were. “He says he doesn’t like it.”

“Doesn’t like it? Is he gay?”

You rolled your eyes and turned away with a groan, intending to drop it, but he grabbed your arm and turned you back.

“I’m being serious. If he’s not going down on you, he can’t be that into pussy. Is it just you or was he the same with previous partners?”

“He says it’s everyone, not just me. He says he just doesn’t like it.”

“Has he tried? With you, I mean?”

You grimaced at the memory.

“Once.”

“And how was it?”

“Awful. I couldn’t relax because all I could think about was how much he didn’t want to do it and he was so awkward and tentative and then he got annoyed because I wasn’t enjoying-”

“He got annoyed?”

“Yeah.”

Taehyung’s brows came over his eyes and his lips pouted forward. He looked at you, thinking carefully.

“Do you go down on him?”

“Well, yeah, but I like doing it so it’s not an issue.”

“But him not going down on you is an issue?”

“Yes. I know I shouldn’t make it a big deal and maybe it’s not and I’m just being selfis-”

He held up a hand to cut you off before you could even finish the word.

“You’ve done things you aren’t that keen on in bed, right?”

“Uh, wh- what do you mean? No one’s ever forced me to do-”

“No, I don’t mean that. I just mean... There are some positions you like more than others, yeah? Or maybe he likes to fuck in the shower but you prefer not to or he likes morning sex and you don’t really, but you sometimes do it anyway, even though it’s not your favourite thing?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“So why do you do them?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well if they’re not really top of your list, why do you do them at all? Why not just say no and only do it how you want?”

“Because it’s not just about me. It’s about them, too, and I want them to have a good time. And, ok, maybe we do it that way this time, and next time, we’ll do it my way.”

“Exactly.”

“I don’t see your point.”

“My point is that, even if eating your pussy isn’t his favourite thing to do, he should still do it because it’s something that you like and that makes you feel good and he should care about that.”

“You care, do you? About all the people you have sex with?”

“Yes, I do.” His eyes were sharp, his lips almost sneering. He seemed annoyed but you couldn’t work out why. “Why are you asking me about this anyway? Want me to give you what you’re missing?”

You punched him in the arm, a little harder than you’d intended, and he scowled, giving the area a rub.

“No. Why would you ask me that? Of course, I fucking don’t. I have a boyfriend.”

“Yeah. And maybe you shouldn’t.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

He lifts an eyebrow at you, disbelief and impatience clear on his face.

“You know what I mean. And you know I’m always here for you.”

For one second, you really thought he was being nice and thoughtful; you thought he might be treating you like a friend. And then reality came back to you and you realised precisely what he meant. You punched him in the arm again.

“Fuck off, Taehyung. I’m not fucking you.”

“That’s not what I offered. Come on, sweetheart-”

“Don’t fucking call me that!”

“Y/n, seriously.”

He cradled your cheek with his hand and looked closely at you. His brown eyes were so warm, inviting, so wide and open and sweet that you couldn’t believe what came out of his mouth next.

“What’s a little oral between friends? Let me show you your pretty little pussy’s worth wanting.”

“Ugh!”

You ripped your face away from his hand and stalked off, even as he called after you. The juxtaposition of that cute, teddy-bear face and his fucking depravity would give you whiplash. You told yourself that’s what it was; that he was confusing and you didn’t know how to take him, didn’t know if you could trust him. That’s why you could feel a cold stone of anxiety sinking in your stomach; you were discombobulated, that’s all. You were drunk. He had knocked you off kilter.

You were fine.

The next day, Taehyung messaged you.

Taehyung: I’m sorry for overstepping, ok?

You didn’t have time to read the rest before he was video-calling you.

“Hi.”

“You haven’t even given me three seconds to read your messages yet.”

“I know, but it said you read them so I knew you were looking at your phone and I wanted to speak to you.”

“I don’t know if that’s smart or creepy.”

You could tell he shrugged by the jolt of the camera.

“What do you want, then? You’ve already apologised.”

“I don’t want to apologise. Not really... Well, I do if I made you uncomfortable. I am sorry if I did but I’m not going to apologise for anything else. Not even this...

“No partner should ever make you feel weird or self-conscious or bad or insecure or anything like that. If you are putting your trust in someone, if you’re literally putting your body in their hands, they had better make damn fucking sure that they’re treating it right, that they’re taking care of you, that you feel good, that you feel better being with them than you do on your own. That’s all non-negotiable. It doesn’t sound like Dickless is doing that.”

“What happened to Disappointing Dick?”

“I demoted him. He doesn’t deserve a dick.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes.

“I’m fucking serious. You deserve better.”

You hung up on him. You didn’t want to hear it because you didn’t want to admit that it did make you feel bad; that you were self-conscious now; that something bad was definitely happening inside your brain and you didn’t, somehow, feel like you had the right to blame your boyfriend.

Taehyung, persistent as ever, sent a text.

Taehyung: I’m sorry if you’re upset but I’m also not sorry. You deserve better. You deserve to be feel like your body is perfect because it is. Your body is a site of worship and if he’s not praying to you, sacrificing to you, he’s blaspheming. You deserve to be fucked by someone who will recognise what you are, will recognise how lucky they are to be with you, will make sure they let you know just how desirable and sexy and fucking perfect you are. That's all.

Y/n: You mean someone like you?

Taehyung: 🙄🙄🙄

Taehyung: NO. I’m not trying to fuck you; you’ve made your feelings on that abundantly clear. This is not about me at all. How many times do I have to say I’m serious about this? Your boyfriend is a sack of shit.

You did not reply.

* * *

It was a Monday morning, hardly the highlight of anyone’s week, when you next ran into Taehyung. As you entered the café, you could see him, waiting for his coffee at the other end of the bar. You ignored him and placed your order, hoping he would be gone before you had finished.

No such luck. Worse still, he immediately started talking to you.

“I just have one question; will you let me ask one question?”

“What?”

“Are you prepared to go the rest of your life with no one going down on you?”

“What?”

You could feel your face heat and you glanced nervously around, hoping no one else had heard him. You were furious with him for bringing it up here, in public, first thing in the morning, but you were also not prepared for that question and a cold feeling of dread slipped through your veins like ice.

“You’re in a relationship with this guy; at some point, eventually, you’ll get married, right? And that’s it, then; you’re staring down the barrel of what, 70 years without it? You’ve already had your last time. Do you remember it? Was it even good?”

You knew it wasn’t because the last time anyone did it was the first – and only – time your boyfriend had and that had been an unmitigated disaster.

“We’re not that serious, Taehyung. We’re not getting married.”

“Maybe not now, but if you don’t break up, that’s where you’re headed, isn’t it? Is it really something you’re willing to give up forever? For him?”

Your coffee had arrived and you had hoped you could take it and run, but Taehyung picked up your cup with his spare hand and wandered towards a spare table.

“I don’t even know why you care so much,” you hissed as you sat opposite him at the table.

“I don’t know why you don’t. You asked me for a reason and you are apparently completely unwilling to listen to anything. Is what I’m saying so radical? What do your other friends say?”

You couldn’t answer that question because you hadn’t told anyone else. It was too embarrassing.

“Have you even told anyone else?”

“No.”

“Then why me? Because I’m just some disgusting, shallow fuckboy whose opinion you don’t care about except when it might benefit you? Because you expected me to say that I don’t go down on the women I sleep with? Expected me to make some crude joke or cruel comment about them? Because you think that, just because I sleep with a lot of people, I must not respect them enough to treat them right? All of the above?”

The silence between the two of you was thick, untouched by the noise and bustle of the café around you. You couldn’t deny that basically everything he had said was true, but hearing him say it made you feel thoroughly shamed.

“I’m not offended,” he continued. “Because I know that none of that is true, as does everyone who actually knows me. You haven’t bothered to get to know me-”

“Yeah because all you do is try to get in my pants!”

“How is that true? Did I not just tell you that I’m not trying to fuck you? That this isn’t about me? Contrary to your beliefs, you are actually not some kind of irresistible siren whom I will make it my life mission to bed. I can live without fucking you, thank you very much. And you think I’m arrogant.”

“I don’t think I’m irresistible,” you protested weakly.

“I’m not interested in arguing with you. I’m a lover, not a fighter.” He paused to give you a dramatic, over the top, sexy wink and you couldn’t stop yourself rolling your eyes. “But, for the millionth time, I am serious about this. And you need to get serious about it. Here, enjoy your coffee, sweetheart.”

He slid your cup towards you, stood, and left before you could tell him off for calling you that again. You were rattled and frustrated and couldn’t stop thinking about the rest of your life.

You couldn’t stop thinking about it that day or that week or even into the next week. You saw your boyfriend three times and had sex that you couldn’t enjoy because you couldn’t stop thinking about it.

It was the last time, with him pounding away inside you, that he finally noticed.

“Hey, y/n.”

He slowed, but didn’t stop.

“Where have you gone? I feel like you’re not there.”

You dragged your eyes back into focus, onto him.

“Do you think you’ll ever like it?”

He frowned, confused, and came to a stop, resting his weight on you a little.

“Like what? What are you talking about?”

“Oral.”

He groaned and you knew, even though you couldn’t see his face as he rested his forehead on your clavicle, that he was rolling his eyes.

“Do we have to talk about this again? I feel like this is all we ever talk about and I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I want you to give me a reason! Tell me why you won’t do it!”

He rolled away, slipping out of you, and sat up and you pushed yourself upright next to him. He had never really given you an answer, other than that he ‘just doesn’t like it’ and you thought this little pause might be him finally deciding to tell you.

“Tell me why it matters so much!” he countered and your hope deflated. “I get you off, don’t I? It’s not like I’m selfish. Why do you need me to do it so badly?”

“Because I like it! Because I do things for you! Because... Because it makes me feel bad that you don’t.”

“Oh I make you feel bad? All this time I spend trying to make you feel good-”

“I don’t! I don’t feel good! I don’t feel good because you make me feel like there must be something wrong with me! No one else has ever had a problem with it-”

“Now who’s making who feel bad? If everyone else you’ve fucked likes it so much, why don’t you just go and ask them to do it?”

“What?”

“Well, if they all love doing it so much and you need it so fucking desperately, why not ask them?”

“Are you serious right now?”

His jaw dropped as if you’d just hit him.

“Of course I’m not fucking serious! Are you joking? You’re my fucking girlfriend! As if I would let you do that! I don’t understand why you can’t just be happy with what we have.”

He was standing and putting his feet back into his boxers and trousers. You didn’t want him to leave. Because you wanted him to stay and change his mind. You wanted him to suddenly turn around and say, actually, I was wrong, please allow me to go down on you for hours and hours... You knew he wouldn’t.

He sat down on the edge of the bed and took your hand.

“Do you love me?”

At that moment, no, you truly didn’t. It took all your strength to look him in the eye and answer.

“Yes, of course.”

He kissed you and told you the same and then he told you to get some rest and sleep on it and that things would look better in the morning.

You had had this argument enough times to know that it wouldn’t. Things would look the same in the morning. In actual fact, they looked worse.

You still couldn’t get Taehyung’s words out of your mind, any of them. The idea of anyone worshipping you was faintly absurd, a rhetorical flourish you’re sure he didn’t mean literally, but he seemed so sincere and, well, they didn’t say he had a magical dick for nothing.

You called Tara.

“Ok, I need you to be really real with me and also to not ever tell anyone I asked you this.”

“Oh my god, the intrigue... Go on.”

“Just exactly how good is Taehyung in bed?”

She cackled loudly down the phone and then sighed, suddenly wistful.

“Still, by far, the best I have ever had. I still miss him.”

“Ok, but I don’t know how good the other people you’ve slept with are. I need like, some objective measure-”

“Why? Are you planning to sleep with him?”

“No! God no! I just don’t believe that what people say about him can be true, so I’m … I don’t know... checking...”

Her responding hum sounded unconvinced.

“Well, he once made me come for like, two straight minutes. I thought I was going to die and I could barely walk the next day; every muscle in my body was sore.”

“Is that... good?”

“YES! I meant it when I said you shouldn’t turn him down if he ever offers. I have never had as many orgasms in one night as when I was with him. He just... He fucking loves it and he loves you when he’s fucking you. He kind of takes it almost weirdly seriously? But like, in a good way. I don’t know. It’s hard to describe. I may have been drunk at the bar that time, but I honestly could still cry about how much I miss fucking him.”

“Jesus.”

“Not even he can help me, y/n.”

“Ok, well, thanks. I guess.”

“Did that help? I seriously think you should fuck him; I promise I won’t even be jealous because it is truly something I think everyone should get to experience at least once.”

“I am not sure that’s a normal thing to say about someone.”

“Taehyung is not normal.”

* * *

Two days. It was two days before you snapped. You took a deep breath, pressed call, and held the phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Do you want to eat me out?”

You could hear choking at the other end and a muffled ‘hold on’. You held on.

“Sorry, what the fuck did you just ask me?”

“I said, do you want to eat me out?”

“Is this a hypothetical question? Because you know I have already made the offer.”

“So you do want to eat me out?”

“Again, is this hypothetical or are you asking me over right now?”

Another deep breath.

“I’m asking you over right now.”

“Give me your address.”

You paced up and down your living room, anxious, impatient. The sheets on the bed were clean; you’d showered and then done it again for no real reason other than an irrational fear of him thinking you were dirty; you hesitated over whether or not to light candles – it felt like too much, too romantic but would also mean you could turn out the lights, keep it dark... You were just about to find the matches again when there was a knock at the door.

“Hi.”

“Hello.”

His grin was wide as he stepped over the threshold but it did nothing to put you at ease.

“Do you want a drink or something?” you asked as you made your way to the kitchen.

“Whatever you want. I am at your service.”

He bowed, thrusting an arm elaborately to the side, his head dipping low as he bent deeply from the hips.

“Please don’t be weird. Don’t make this weird.”

“What’s weird about it? Like I said, what’s a little oral between friends? Platonic pussy eating, that’s all it is.”

“I said don’t be weird! Why do you have to put it like that?”

“Well, what is it if not that? I assume you don’t suddenly want to date me.”

“God, no-”

He raised his eyebrows at you, questioning, demanding.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. Sorry.”

He shrugged.

“It’s alright. I know you still think we’re not friends, but, just so you know, I wouldn’t do this for just anyone.”

“Oh, wouldn’t you?”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

He was suddenly close to you, a little too close. He looked down at you, and you expected to look up and see that arrogant smirk, the quirked eyebrow that he thought was so sexy, but he’s just smiling, sweet, cute.

“I’m glad you called, though. Glad you’ve finally seen the light and ditched Dickless-”

“I haven’t. We’re still together.”

His eyebrows shot up, his mouth a little ‘o’ of surprise.

“You haven’t? And yet here I am... I thought you were a good girl.”

“Shut up, Taehyung. Stop trying to flirt with me.”

You moved away from him, towards the fridge, and got out a bottle of wine, more for something to do than anything else. You poured two glasses and held one out to him.

“How do you expect me to go down on you if you won’t even let me flirt with you a little?”

“You don’t have to flirt with me if I’ve already agreed to it. There’s no need.”

“That’s what you think flirting is? Just a way to get into somebody’s bed? That is not what flirting is for – well, not the only thing.”

He considered you carefully over his wine glass and you could feel yourself blushing all over; he kept his gaze steady, his face betraying nothing, and then he held his hand out to you. You didn’t take it but you moved closer to him, just close enough that he could reach out and grab you by the waist, pulling you up against him.

“Just so we’re clear,” he began, his voice low, his eyes pointedly fixed on yours. “If we do this and you don’t break up with Dickless, I will consider it a failure.”

You didn’t know what you felt. What would make this a success? What would make it a failure? Did you want it to be good? So good you ended your relationship? Or did you want it to be disappointing, maybe literally anticlimactic, so that you could stay with him and not feel like you were missing out? You had absolutely no idea. You didn’t even really know why you were doing it. Was it a good idea? What had possessed you? All you knew was that it had to be done. Now or never. For once and for all.

He placed his wine glass on the counter and slipped his fingers underneath the hem of your shirt, his fingers just lightly grazing your skin. Your stomach twisted and you squirmed out of his grasp.

“What are you doing?” you asked, trying to stop your heart racing.

“What are you doing? Did you or did you not invite me over so I could go down on you?”

“Well, yes, I did, but that doesn’t mean all of... All of that.”

You heard him chuckle behind you and you turned slightly, just enough that you could see him run his hands through his hair and roll his eyes, the boxy grin back on his face.

“Y’know, I’m starting to think that maybe you are the problem. At least a little bit.”

When you didn’t move and didn’t respond, he sighed again, lightly exasperated.

“Come here,” he commanded softly, holding his hands out to you. When you didn’t move, he walked towards you instead. He took your face in his hands and made you look at him. “Do you trust me?”

When you didn’t answer, he shook your head lightly side to side.

“I don’t mean like, trust me with your family secrets, trust me to take care of your pets while you’re on holiday. I mean... Do you think I’m going to hurt you?”

You shook your head and he moved his face even closer.

“Do you think I’m going to do something you don’t want?”

You shook your head and he lightly pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“Do you think I’m going to make you do something you don’t want?”

You shook your head and he kissed your other cheek.

“So, do you trust me?”

You nodded, dumb with anticipation and tension, shocked at the way your body was responding to this, just this: he hadn’t even kissed you on the mouth but you were trembling, warm, wet.

“Ok, then,” he whispered and he moved his hands down your body, then back up on the inside of your clothes. His hands were cold and you shivered against him, closing your eyes.

“Look at me.”

Your eyes flicked back to him and he kissed your lips, just barely, still looking you in the eye, and a whimper caught in your throat. He closed his eyes and pulled you closer, his lips pressing against yours now. He removed a hand from your waist and gently pressed his thumb against your chin, opening your mouth to allow his tongue inside. His kiss was warm and sweet with wine; his tongue was soft against yours, slow as he licked into your mouth and retreated. You chased after his mouth when his lips left yours and you could feel him smile as he let you close the distance and kiss him again. He ran his tongue along your bottom lip and sucked it gently, a barely perceptible pressure that made your knees tremble.

You could feel all the heat rushing through your blood, flowering on the surface of your skin in warm blooms as you let yourself relax. All the tension you were holding melted away, evaporating on your skin, leaving you soft and pliant. A deep, dark want blossomed in you, its petals unfurling in your core, arousal first like dew drops, then like a sudden summer downpour buffeting the pale heads of roses. You had thought this would be quick, frantic with need, with guilt, with anxiety, but all of that was held at bay by the gentle way that Taehyung ran his tongue over yours, ran his hands over your body, held you just close enough that you could feel him against you but not so close you felt trapped.

He moved from your mouth and placed kisses on your temple, your ear, your jaw. As he sucked kisses down your neck, you were so distracted that you didn’t notice him unclasp your bra, only aware when he rubbed his thumbs over your nipples, already hard. He moaned against your skin, his teeth sinking into your flesh as he pulled your hips against his. You gasped, both at the bite, and at the feeling of him, stiffening, growing against you. He ran his tongue over the indentations in your neck and you shivered.

“Can I take your clothes off?”

His voice was raspy and low in your ear as he tugged at the bottom of your shirt. You sighed a yes and looked into his eyes as his fingers worked on the buttons of your blouse. His eyes were soft, liquid, the light glinting off them in gold and honey. He took his time, each button slow, his eyes never leaving yours. He nudged your nose with his, licked your bottom lip, sank his teeth into it, sucked it into his mouth.

He pushed your shirt off your shoulders and let it fall to the floor, then he pulled the straps of your bra down and it fell, too. He finally dropped his gaze and took in the sight of your naked torso, nipples taut, goosebumps spreading over the swell of your breasts as he gently took them in his hands, massaging, squeezing your nipples between his fingers. He hummed quietly.

“Shall we go to the bedroom now?”

You couldn’t speak, only nodded, and walked backwards until your legs hit your bed, then you let him lay you down.

“Can I take this off?” he asked again, holding the edge of your skirt. Again, you nodded and he pulled gently, the fabric almost burning against your legs as it dragged. He kissed your feet and you squirmed.

“Ticklish?” He grinned and licked the sole of your left foot from heel to toe with the tip of his tongue as you squealed.

“Yes, I am!” you gasped. He chuckled and relented, trailing soft, wet kisses up your legs. You held your breath as he licked at your inner thighs, anticipating him at your core.

But he wasn’t there. He slipped his hands underneath at the hips and lifted the fabric so he could lick the crease of your leg and then pulled it down so he could kiss across the waistband from hip bone to hip bone, but he didn’t touch you. Your heart was racing in your chest now; what was he waiting for?

He hummed against your skin and moved above you, his hands on either side of your chest. He looked at you, almost quizzical for a second, and then that look faded into a smile that – had it been anyone else – you might’ve called adoring. He lowered his face to yours and kissed you.

“Relax, y/n. I can feel your heart beating from here.”

Resting his full weight on one hand, he placed the other between your breasts, atop your sternum, your heart pushing back, thumping against your ribs.

“But aren’t you gonna...?”

He kissed you again, forceful this time, leaving you breathless as he pulled away.

“Yes, I am. But we’re doing it my way, ok? Just relax; I’m going to take good care of you.”

He shuffled downwards, lips everywhere on his path down your neck, across your chest. You whined when he took your nipple in his mouth, your back arching into him as he sealed his teeth around it, his tongue lapping at your tightened bud.

Everything was so slow. You felt like a frog in a pan; you hadn’t really noticed it building, this huge, hungry desire, but now you were drowning in it, burning, melting. It enveloped you, held you, suspended, cushioned in its warmth but needled by its intensity. It sent its buds out from your centre to your extremities, your fingers and toes tingling, your body trembling, your breath catching in your throat. Flowers of want blooming all over you, petals falling from Taehyung’s lips, soft and sweet and warm.

You let out a long, shaky whine when he finally locked his fingers around your underwear and tugged them down, his hands sliding against your legs as he pulled them all the way off.

“Taehyung,” you whispered as he pushed your legs apart, crawling back towards you.

“Yes?”

You didn’t know what to say. You knew there was something, something inside you that you wanted to tell him, but you couldn’t find the words. Everything was obscured by the veil of your greed, your craven yearning for him. You wanted his mouth on you so badly, wanted to be wanted. You remembered what he said about worship and a sudden panic sliced through you with painful clarity.

“I-… What if it is me? What if there’s something wrong with me?”

He pressed a soft kiss against your inner thigh and then loomed over you.

“It’s not you, I promise.”

He rested his forehead against yours, your noses pressed together, his hand on your cheek.

“You’re perfect. Perfect, you hear me? If you’ve changed your mind about this, that’s ok-”

“No, god no,” you answered quickly, immediately, absolutely sure that you wanted this, your nails digging into his arms. “Please...”

He kissed you, slow, even slower than before, and he lowered his body down on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. It’s only then that you realised he was still fully dressed. And you were completely naked beneath him, so exposed and so vulnerable. You pushed him back, a light palm against his chest, and he looked at you, frowning.

“What’s wrong?”

You looked at his eyes, somehow both shining and dark at the same time; his pouty mouth just barely open; his hips pressing into yours; his erection hot and hard against you, almost exactly where it needed to be, so you could just tip your hips and rub yourself on him, feel the friction you were desperate for. He looked at you so openly and it wasn’t like you expected it to be at all. None of it was. You thought he would be arrogant, cocksure, swaggering; you thought he would be rough, wild, frenetic; you thought it was all bluster and machismo, that he’d keep calling you ‘baby’ and asking how you liked it and trying to make you scream. You hadn’t even really believed that he would get you there. Whether due to you or to him, you had thought it probably wouldn’t happen. Your boyfriend had made you too self-conscious; Taehyung wouldn’t put the effort in or wouldn’t know what to do.

But it wasn’t like that at all. He looked at you questioningly, searchingly, like he actually cared. And he had moved so slowly, so patiently; he was rock-hard against you, but hadn’t even mentioned it. He hadn’t even taken his clothes off. This was the first time he’d even really pressed his hips against you so you could feel him. You closed your eyes and tried to control your breathing, tried to feel yourself in your body. You could feel the ghost of his breath over your face, his hand curled around your shoulder, fingers dancing lightly over your skin. There was the weight of his body, the warmth of it. You wanted to feel his skin in yours.

“Take your clothes off,” you whispered, opening your eyes to look at him.

He grinned and sat back on his knees, unbuttoning his shirt. You reached out to unzip his trousers but he batted your hand away. He unzipped them himself and stood to step out of them.

“Better?” he asked, already making his way back to you, but shook your head.

“No. Everything.”

His eyebrows raised just a hair and he paused, considering you.

“You know this is not about me, right?”

“I know. I just want to see you.”

He nodded slowly and hooked his thumbs into boxers, sliding them down and stepping out. His dick was wet with pre-cum and you couldn’t believe he could be so hard when you hadn’t even touched him, when he had barely touched you. He knelt at the end of the bed and grabbed your ankles, slowly pulling you down, down, down, until you were just barely still lying on it, your feet touching the floor until he spread your thighs to the side, as wide as they could go.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” he asked, his words muffled as he kissed your thigh.

“Yes, fuck. Yes, Taehyung. Please.”

He was still slow. Slow as he pressed kisses against your lips, on your mound, back out to the crease of your hip, your thighs. You whined when he ran his fingers through your folds, hearing the slick of your arousal as he dragged up to your clit and down again, as he opened you up. He pressed a kiss to your clit and you jumped, swallowing hard, trying to catch your breath as he opened his lips and sucked. He laved over your clit with the soft, flat pad of his tongue and you sighed, having forgotten this feeling.

“Talk to me,” he said softly, sprinkling kisses across your legs, your mound, your lips. “Tell me what works for you, what doesn’t.”

But you couldn’t speak. You moaned and mewled and whimpered, but no words would come. You were swept away on a wave of pleasure, not in the room anymore, but somewhere else, somewhere nothing else existed – just you and Taehyung and this bed. You wanted to tell him yes, like that, more, yes, please, please, please, but the air was tight in your lungs, stuck in your throat, whipped away as it left your mouth in a strangled whine.

He moaned loudly as he licked over your slit, drinking you in.

“Y/n.”

His breath was warm, brushing against your flushed skin.

“You taste so good, y/n. I fucking knew you would.”

He moved his mouth away again, biting down on the soft flesh of your inner thigh as he slipped first one and then two fingers into your wet heat. You whined, greedy, needy, grinding your hips, trying to feel some friction back on your clit. Taehyung hummed against your skin and you felt his lips stretch into a smile.

“Don’t hold back, y/n. I love the way you sound.”

And you didn’t. You let yourself go, let yourself fall into it, abandoned yourself to him. With his fingers still inside you and his mouth back, sealed against your clit, his tongue alternately flicking hard circles around it, then licking softly over it, you felt your body shuddering to its climax. You expected him to stop as your walls clenched hard on his fingers, to stop when your legs clamped over his ears, to stop when you writhed beneath him, fully overwhelmed as wave after wave swamped you with pleasure.

But he didn’t. He thrummed his fingers hard against your front wall, not letting you squeeze them out. He kept his mouth on you, your slick and his spit mixing as you came, gushing around him. When you finally cried out, cursing him, calling his name, he slowed, but he still didn’t stop, and you felt your whole body convulse under him. With a flash of clarity, you remembered what Tara had said, and you couldn’t believe it, knew you couldn’t take it, knew this would kill you if it went on any longer.

But it did. And you didn’t die. You felt yourself floating, your limbs weightless, your head dizzy as you climbed to your second peak, your, soft, weak body tightening, pulling in all directions at once, your skin burning, your heart like a hummingbird’s, blood roaring in your ears like the waves of the ocean. Your hands twisted in the bedsheets as you came, the noises you were making nothing short of animal.

When you flopped, spent, melting into the mattress, you pushed your fingers through Taehyung’s hair and tugged, your body screaming with over-stimulation, your bed and thighs soaked. You could hardly see; nothing but flashing lights in front of you, stars shining and twinkling on your ceiling, swirling, disappearing and reappearing like a kaleidoscope.

“Taehyung,” you panted, weak and quiet. “Stop.”

He was immediately still, those wide, open eyes looking up at you. You whimpered as he pulled his fingers from you and you fell, slithering like a slinky from the bed and into his arms. He held you tight, pushed your hair from your face and kissed your forehead.

“You ok?”

You looked up at him, blinking hard to stop your vision swimming. He was shiny and sticky all around his mouth, all over his chin. Those deep, autumn eyes all dark now, swirling black, glazed and penetrating. You summoned what strength you could and crashed your lips against him. You could taste yourself on him and you knew he was right. You weren’t the problem. It wasn’t you. And it certainly wasn’t this.

“Fuck me, please,” you asked, taking his face between your palms. “Please, Taehyung.”

He started shaking his head, his lip bitten between his teeth.

“That’s not what- you don’t have to- we don’t have to do that.”

“I want to. I want to. Please.”

You twisted in his lap so you were straddling him, his cock leaking against you between your bodies.

“If you want to,” you added. “I... Only if you want to.”

He laughed, deep-throated and rich – you could feel it rumble in his chest.

“Oh I absolutely want to but this is... Are you sure you want to? I mean... You are still with Dickless and this-”

“Don’t fucking talk about him. I don’t want to think about him. Please, Taehyung.” You pressed another kiss against his lips, insistent, urgent. “I want you. I just want you.”

He moaned against your mouth, his arms encircling your waist, his tongue encroaching. Then he rolled and lay you down, the carpet surprisingly soft against your skin.

“I just,” he said, his mouth wandering all over you, slowly making his way down. “I just want one more taste. Please.”

He looked at you, waiting. He licked his lips and held the bottom one tight in his teeth. You could see him swallow hard, his breathing deep and heavy. You nodded and dropped your head back, keening as he licked through your folds, humming against your clit, smacking his lips as he raised himself back on his hands and knees.

“I told you you were fucking perfect.”

You moved backwards, out from underneath his arms and gave yourself carpet burn on your knees as you shuffled to the bedside table, rifling for the box of condoms you kept there. You grabbed the whole thing, crawled back to Taehyung and emptied it onto the floor. He laughed again.

“Sweetheart, even for me, that is truly ambitious.”

“Shut up.”

You fell back, your chest still heaving, your limbs still trembling, as he tore one open and rolled it down his length. He paused, his dick in his hand, held at your waiting entrance and he looked at you.

“For god’s sake, Taehyung, don’t ask me if I’m sure. Please just please just fuckin- ahh...”

He didn’t wait for you to finish. He plunged into your soft, wet cunt and moaned.

“Fuck. Please tell me that feels good.”

“It feels fucking incredible.”

He grabbed at the backs of your thighs and lifted, pushing them up and out, keeping hold of them as he began to move. Smooth and fluid, his hips rolled. Your cunt, wet and soft and sweet, held him tight, moulded to his cock, your walls fluttering around him. Heat radiated from your centre, a fire burning there, flames licking up your body. You were so sensitive, close again almost immediately, whimpering with every thrust.

You grabbed at him, pulling him down, your hand around his neck to bring him closer and closer ’til you could kiss him. Your tongues tangled and the adjusted angle made you moan straight into his mouth. You could still taste the wine, still taste yourself on him and with a shock of remembrance, you whined. This was what you loved; this was what you had been missing. The proof of the pudding: your arousal all over his face made you hot with a sudden rush. Your boyfriend could never be enough. Because it wasn’t just about you and your desire; it was about his, too. And he didn’t have it, not like this. Not like Taehyung. The strangled moans and gutteral groans escaping his throat, the rumble in his chest as he breathed ragged and uneven made you shaky with feeling. Feeling wanted in your entirety. Wanted in your animal mess. Wanted from head to toe. Inside and out. No holds barred.

“Taehyung.”

“Fuck, y/n, yeah? Tell me- tell me...”

He kissed your lips and your cheek, his hand skirting your body and grabbing at your thigh, pushing further, holding tighter, his thrusts faster now, harder, his pelvis tantalisingly close to your clit. You put a hand down between you, circling slowly, your third orgasm bubbling through your veins.

“You feel so good,” you breathed. “Fuck, so, so-… ah... shit.”

Already there, your toes curling, Taehyung hissing, cursing as you squeezed him tight inside you, pleasure blazed through you like a forest fire, every inch of you alight and burning, sparking, fireworks bursting all over you, inside you, filling your vision with dizzying colour. Taehyung was gasping, stuttering, his fingers digging into you, his teeth biting hard.

“Come, Taehyung,” you whispered to him, your voice wobbling, shaking like the rest of you.

“I w-wanna-” he stammered. “I wa- wan-”

“No, just come. For me.”

You brought your mouth to his, pulling his bottom lip with your teeth, sucking gently.

“Oh, fuck.”

He juddered, thrusting hard as he let himself go, gave himself to you, gave in. He let himself flop against you for a moment, just a moment, and then he pushed himself up on his hands, looking down at where you bodies met, still together. He rolled his hips one last time and you mewled, over-sensitive, overwraught. He grinned and pulled back, turning away from you as he took off and disposed of the condom.

He crawled back to you and pulled you onto your side so you were facing each other. He knocked a leg between yours and traced the curve of your body; you shivered, even his hands feeling like fire against you. He kissed you, once, and then again, and then a third time.

“You’re perfect,” he said, barely moving his mouth far enough from yours to speak, his words mumbled, muffled. “You’re fucking perfect. You understand?”

You couldn’t look him in the eye, suddenly self-conscious, suddenly so embarrassed at what you had done. Embarrassed that you had needed this, needed him to tell you that, needed him to show you that you could be wanted how you wanted to be wanted, desired in the way you wanted, fucked like you wanted. You felt small and silly and stupid. That you had cheated on your boyfriend with the most promiscuous man on the planet just because you felt insecure. You shivered, but it wasn’t pleasure this time. You were suddenly cold and tired. Exhausted. Choked with emotions you didn’t want to admit.

“Hey, I’m talking to you,” he said, softly, his lips against your hair now. “You ok?”

“I don’t know.”

Your voice was little more than a hoarse whisper, hardly audible beneath the thumping of your heart.

“Talk to me...”

“I feel so stupid.”

“Why?”

You had to think it through, carefully, how to say it, how to express it.

“Because... I needed this. I didn’t know that I-… I-”

You crumbled, dissolved into tears, embarrassing you further. You wanted to be swallowed whole, to sink into the ground, to dessicate and turn to dust. You couldn’t speak, shame dousing you, drowning you, your hitching, heaving breath barely enough. He let you cry and you were grateful for his patience... again.

“You w-want me,” you said eventually, your voice thick, choked.

“Yeah.”

“You want me and h-he doesn’t. And I- I want to be w-wanted. I'm so... Am I undesirable?”

“Categorically, demonstrably, absolutely not.”

“Then why doesn’t he want me?”

Taehyung held you tighter, pulled you closer, kissed the top of your head and stroked your back.

“This is why I’ve been telling you to leave him, love. You shouldn’t feel like this. I’m sure he does want you, but if he can’t want you in the way that you want, in a way that makes you feel good, feel desirable, and cherished, and loved, then he shouldn’t have you.”

He pulled back, holding your face to his, wiping your tears with his thumbs.

“I want you. Believe me, I want you. I’ve just had you and I want you all over again. You should believe that; you deserve that. Don’t let him break you down. Don’t let him do this to you.”

Your bottom lip wobbled as your eyes filled with tears again and he placed his thumb over it and his lips over that. He swiped his thumb across your mouth and kissed you as slowly as he had the very first time, his lips so soft, his mouth so sweet.

“If you don’t believe me,” he said, his lips just ghosting over yours, his breath washing over your face. “I will happily show you again and again and again just how desirable you are. Just how perfect you are. It’s not hyperbole; you’re fucking perfect to me. I’ll show you.”

And he did.

Not just that night or the one after that or the one after that. He showed you repeatedly again and again until you started to believe it. Until you realised that you didn’t need him to show you anymore, just wanted him to. Just wanted him.

You broke up with your boyfriend two weeks later. It was horrible and he was surprisingly vicious and you were surprisingly upset. But you knew you were right to do it and wished you had just done it earlier.

y/n: I broke up with him.

Taehyung: FINALLY

Taehyung: Guess this means you don’t need me anymore...

y/n: I didn’t say that.

y/n: Come over?

Taehyung: On my way

#taehyung x reader #taehyung fic #taehyung smut #bts x reader #bts smut #bts fic #mmm repost

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