#yall rlly stretching this out and for what

[badasbebi]

home is where the heart is ➛ ♡

✦ pairing: bada lee x fem!reader

✦ summary: new to seoul in search of revitalizing opportunities, you're excited to see what the city has in store for you. however, after numerous awkward encounters with your (hot) neighbor and other unfortunate circumstances, you start to doubt whether this move was right for you.

✦ genre/au: fluff, smut MDNI!!, neighbor!au, accidentally turned into a coffeeshop!au as well. maybe some slight angst?

✦ word count: 14k

✦ warnings: probably has grammatical/spelling errors. switch!bada and switch!reader?? sort of?? y/n has a toy collection that could probably contribute to the production of toy story 5.

✦ a/n: initially really liked this story. then, i sat on it for three days, and now I'm not really a fan of this? i also feel like i forgot to how to write? hope yall still enjoy though! i have a few ideas I'm rlly excited abt anyway <3

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The elevator lobby echoes with the shuffling of your feet and the thud of the cardboard box shifting within your grasp. Your new apartment complex seems to grow larger with each step, the space stretching endlessly as you aim for one of the metal doors. The box, marked “fragile,” presses into your arms, and beads of sweat drip down your forehead as you internally curse at yourself for your excessive overpacking and stubbornness. 

 You don’t know who or what made you believe you were capable of doing this move entirely by yourself, but you are now facing the consequences for past you's groundless self-confidence. As you take a step forward, your arms wobble under the strain, and the box slips precariously, threatening to escape your grasp. You tighten your grip, determined not to let the flimsy box defeat you. You were not going to let a box labeled fragile, of all things, be the reason for your demise. No way.

While attempting to steady yourself, you vaguely hear a loud ping reverberate throughout the lobby. Like the easily hyperfixated person you are, you pay no mind to it, focusing only on the task at hand. The last thing you need is to drop the box and have its contents shatter against the floor. You would never forgive yourself.

Just as you pause to readjust the box, the elevator door opens, and footsteps follow it. A tall, dark-haired woman with bangs stumbles into the opening, her phone in her hands. She stops in her tracks, clearly distracted, and you foolishly walk straight into her.

The box falls from your grasp, and as it plummets to the ground, you have an out-of-body experience. This was it. The box is going to hit the ground, and you will have lost this uphill battle. In slow motion, you watch the box tilt backward and forwards, suspended in midair for what seems like forever until, suddenly, you feel your hand wrap around it. As you blink away the stars clouding your vision, you register that you've saved the box from certain doom, just barely. A sigh of relief escapes your lips.

A triumphant smile graces your lips as you clutch the box tightly. It’s a bit more crumpled than before, but it is still very much in one piece (ignoring the fact that the fragile item inside the box was most definitely broken). Gravity was no match for your superior reflexes.

As you look up, your smile falters. Your eyes widen, and you feel heat rise to your cheeks. You just ran into the most beautiful woman you have ever seen, and she is staring at you. Her eyes, framed by thick-rimmed glasses, gaze at you, wide and unblinking. She looks at you as if you were the most embarrassing thing she has ever seen, and it takes all your willpower not to turn around and run back down the hall.

Her long, dyed black hair hangs in a braid down her shoulder. Her outfit consists of a plain, oversized black t-shirt, baggy pants, and a pair of worn nikes. The only pops of color are the bright yellow socks poking out from underneath the white shoes, and the streaks of blonde in her hair. 

"Oh, my god, I am so sorry!" you finally manage, stumbling over your words. "I should've been paying attention to where I was going."

The woman seems to snap out of her daze with a vigorous shake of her head. "No, no, it's fine. Don't worry about it," she responds with a small laugh. Her voice is light and melodic, and the sound makes your heart skip a beat. She glances down at her phone, and a slight frown creases her forehead. "I wasn't watching where I was going either."

You give a small, awkward chuckle in response, but you feel your nerves ease a little. She didn't seem weirded out, thank the stars. 

She glances down at the box, and her eyes widen as if she is just noticing its existence.

"Here, let me help you," she says as she effortlessly picks up and takes the box from your hands before you can even think to say no, a shiver running up your spine at the contact. 

"You really don't have to," you protest weakly, making much of an effort to actually stop her. 

"It's the least I can do after making you almost drop the box." She gives you a warm smile, and the butterflies in your stomach start dancing wildly. 

"Thank you." You return the smile, feeling the corners of your mouth twitch.

She turns on her heel and gestures to the elevator doors. "Where are you headed?" she asks, pressing the up button with her elbow.

"Uh, floor 8," you answer. She nods, and when the elevator doors open, the two of you step inside.

The combination of the woman's vanilla-scented perfume and elevator music does little to soothe your anxiety. You stand side-by-side in awkward silence. You shift uncomfortably, feeling your cheeks burn. What do you even say to a person this gorgeous? You clear your throat and will the courage to speak. You are an adult. You can talk to people. You got this! Just be casual. Easy peasy. Just say words! Just. say. them. 

"So, uh, is this your first time using the elevator?" You wince.

Maybe not those words.

"No, I usually use the stairs." She says with a giggle, seemingly unfazed by your pathetic attempt at conversation. "But, um, is this your first time here?"

You nod. "I just moved here today." You pause. "How did you know?"

"I just—haven't seen you here before," she says simply, looking you up and down with an expression you can't quite decipher. "I'm Bada, by the way."

"Bada," you repeat, testing out the name on your tongue. It sounds nice. You smile, and the tips of your ears grow hot. "I'm Y/N."

"Y/N." She returns your smile. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise." Your fingers fidget with the hem of your shirt. Your eyes wander over to the numbers lit up on the panel, and your face pales when you see that the two of you are already on the eighth floor. The elevator slowly comes to a stop, and you swallow thickly. "Well, I guess this is my stop," you say as you step into the hallway. 

"Did you want me to walk you to your apartment? This is actually the floor that I-" Bada starts, but a faint chime rings out before she can finish. She pulls her phone out, holding the box with one arm, and frowns at the screen.

"Ah, damn, I gotta go," she says. She looks back up at you and gives you a smile, although a little less bright. "I'm going to be late for a meeting. Do you think you can manage?"

You stare, momentarily perplexed by the kindness this random stranger is displaying towards you, but then you catch yourself, and smile.

You shake your head, waving a hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it, I've got it. I'm a big girl," you reassure her. "Thank you for helping me, though."

She hands the box over, and your fingers brush again, sending a jolt of electricity up your arm.

"Of course," she replies, smiling. "Anytime. It was nice meeting you."

"Yup."

You give each other a brief wave, and you watch the elevator doors slide shut. 

As you stare at the spot she was once at, you feel a pang of disappointment in your chest. You wish you could have gotten to know her better, but there was always another day. You lived in the same building, after all. Maybe you'd run into her again. 

You struggle with the box a bit more, and then you finally enter your apartment, the door clicking shut behind you.  

The first thing you do is drop the box in the entryway and walk over to the nearest wall. You lean your back against it, sliding down until your butt hits the ground. You sit there for a moment, gazing out of the floor-to-ceiling window across the room, trying to process everything that just happened. And, well, everything else that's been happening in your life. 

As the sun dips below the skyline, casting long shadows across the city, you find yourself finally having to wrestle with contrasting feelings of excitement over this fresh start, mingled with a weariness that's settled into your bones after a day of moving boxes and thinking of the uncertainty surrounding the days ahead of you. 

Just a month ago, you made the spontaneous decision to move to chase your dreams in Seoul, a country an entire ocean away from where you're from. Now you are in a new city, a new apartment, a potential new job, and you have mixed feelings. You're excited about the possibilities but also scared of the loneliness you know is inevitable. It is a loneliness that is necessary, though. You’ve spent too long stuck, moping about your unfortunate circumstances in the same mundane city you grew up in. You were aching for something new. As terrified as you are, you know that it’ll eventually feel worth it. It has to. 

In the meantime, your living space echoes with emptiness and awaits your touch. Exhausted but determined, you eventually drag yourself off the ground, the weight of the day catching up to you, but not stopping you.  

You scan the space in front of you, surrounded by the remnants of your previous life, now neatly packed into cardboard containers. The living room, cluttered with boxes marked "pictures," "books," and "memories," feels too overwhelming, so you decide to tackle the kitchen first. Igniting your last reserves of energy, you unpack your pots and pans as your thoughts drifts to old routines. As the clock ticks away and you find new sacred spots for your favorite items, your exhaustion begins to fade as you infuse the space with pieces of yourself, fueled by the realization that this is your sanctuary that you could call your own.  

By the time you empty your last box for the day, the apartment glows with your presence. It’s nowhere near finished, but you already feel as if your choices have been validated. You collapse onto your makeshift bed, and as you close your eyes, a smile plays on your lips. 

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 "I asked for three and three-quarter pumps of brown sugar. Is this really the best you can do?"

You stare at the cup sitting before you. Three and three-quarters, your ass. Who the hell was going to measure that? You glance up at the man before you. His face is contorted into a snarl as he glares at you, as if he expects an apology. It takes everything in you not to throw the steaming hot cup of coffee in his face.  

"Sir, I'm sorry, but I believe that this is indeed three and one half—i mean—three quarter pumps," you lie, attempting to brush past your stumble in the calmest voice possible. You try to muster a professional smile, but it's a difficult feat. 

"Bullshit. You clearly can't read a scale properly or hear. Just do it over, and make it right. Three and three QUARTERS," He huffs, shoving the cup in your direction.  

Your fists clench behind the counter. "Yes, sir," you mutter through gritted teeth, your politeness hanging by a thread.

You dump his original drink in the trash and grab a fresh cup. The man watches as you add the pumps, one by one, ensuring that each one is added correctly. It is, and instead of being grateful that you did not put three and three-quarters of spit in his cup, he rolls his eyes, mumbling to himself about younger generations being too lazy to do their jobs right the first time. He takes the cup from you, without saying thank you, and struts off. 

You sigh, shaking your head. You needed to get your blood pressure checked. 

"You okay?" a voice asks.

You turn around, coming face to face with your coworker, Mijoo. She stands before you, leaning against the counter, a sympathetic smile on her face.

You groan, running a hand over your face. "I don't know how much longer I can take this. How have you worked here for this long?" you reply, your voice muffled by your hands. 

Mijoo shrugs. "Honestly, you get used to it after a while. And on the rare occasion that you run into a genuinely nice customer, I promise they make up for the hundreds of shitty interactions." 

Without moving your hands from your face, you state, “That doesn't make me feel any better." 

Mijoo laughs, bright and bubbly, and pats your shoulder. "Don't worry, it'll get easier, I promise. You'll be desensitized in no time! Seriously, I feel nothing when people call me stupid, or an imbecile, or a bitch-"

You frown, dropping your hands. "Mijoo, that's awful." 

Mijoo sighs and walks around the counter to wrap her arm around your shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. "Just don't stress about it, okay? You'll be fine. Plus, we've got each other!" 

You return the gesture, wrapping an arm around her waist. "You're right."

Mijoo has been your rock throughout this whole process. She was the one who interviewed you for this crappy job, and she was the one who showed you the ropes inside and outside of the cafe you work at. In addition to showing you her go-to spot in the cafe for mental breakdowns, she's shown you her favorite spots in Seoul. If it weren't for her, you're sure you'd be a complete and utter wreck.

"What would I do without you?" you ask.

Mijoo chuckles, squeezing you tighter. "Probably have a lot more panic attacks," she replies, causing the two of you to erupt in laughter.

The alarm on your phone blares, signaling that it's time for you to go home. You and Mijoo share a dejected glance. You hated leaving her alone at the shop, but she always insisted that you go home before the rush. You had no choice but to agree. 

"See you tomorrow," you tell her as you shrug on your jacket.

"Bright and early," she responds, throwing you a wave.

"Are you at least going home soon?"

She shakes her head. "Nah, I've got a few things I need to finish up, so I'll probably be here for a few more hours. I'll lock up."

You sigh. "Alright, but please text me when you get home."

She smiles, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Will do. Now, go. Go home and get some sleep, you deserve it."

You make your way to the entrance, giving Mijoo one last glance. She waves to you, a big grin on her face. When you open the door and step out, the bell above you chimes.

As the crisp air hits your face, you can feel the tension drain from your body. A content smile graces your lips, and you can feel your mood instantly improving. Even though your job was stressful, there was nothing quite like coming home after a long shift.

The sun has already begun to set, and the streets are bustling. People pass by you, not paying attention as they make their way home. Some have earphones in, while others are on their phones. You watch as couples and groups of friends chat and laugh as they make their way to whatever destination they have in mind. You feel a small pang of loneliness in your chest.

Your apartment isn't too far from your work, so you reach your destination quickly despite the heaviness in your heart. You're exhausted, and all you want to do is go home, cook dinner, and crawl into bed.

You ride the elevator to your floor, and you're reminded of the time you ran into Bada months ago. Her name echoed through your head every time you heard this elevator music, which was every day. You haven't seen her since that day, which wasn't really a surprise. It was a big building.

When the doors open, you make a beeline to your door, fishing your keys out of your pocket. As soon as you unlock your door, you practically skip inside. You immediately slip off your shoes and toss your jacket and keys onto the counter. You let out a satisfied sigh as you plop down on the couch, closing your eyes. You stay like that for a few moments, listening to the quiet hum of the air conditioner. After a few minutes, you hear your phone ping. Yelping, you sit up and pull it out of your pocket, hoping it's the text you've been anticipating from a landlord. Disappointment settles in the pit of your stomach when you see it's just a spam email. Groaning, you drop the phone onto the couch next to you.

You sit there, wallowing in your misery and loneliness. The quiet hum of the AC does little to soothe your worries.

You miss your friends, but the distance has made it hard for them to keep up with you, and vice versa. They all had lives, and jobs, and families. But you didn't. All you had was an empty apartment. And you had Mijoo, but you felt terrible relying on her for everything. 

As you’re ruminating on the pathetic reality of your social life, a loud bang comes from the wall behind you. You jump in shock and quickly turn to look at the source. You can barely make out a muffled, feminine voice, saying something that sounds like a curse. Seconds later, music starts playing through the walls. Loud, bass-heavy music. You sit up,  your hand hovering over the plaster, feeling perplexed. You haven't heard anyone in the apartment next to you since you moved in. You just assumed you were neighborless. Maybe someone new moved in? You haven't seen anyone with boxes or anything all week, though, and there's no way someone just managed to move in within the last 8 hours. 

A beat passes. You can feel the vibrations from the loud music rattling the walls. You frown, and walk over to the wall. You raise a hand and knock loudly, but it's useless. You sigh. There was no way you could relax with this noise.

You turn away from the wall, and pick your phone up in case you need to dial 119 during this confrontation. You make your way out into the hallway, slamming the door shut behind you and ignoring how your heart pounds in your ears. You walk to the door next to yours and, after a moment of hesitation, knock loudly. The music stops, and your heartbeat slows. The door remains closed, so you knock again, even harder this time.

After what feels like an eternity, the door finally swings open, revealing a woman you thought you'd never see again.

"Bada?" you question, bewildered.

"Hey," she replies, sounding equally surprised. She's wearing sweatpants and a black tank top, and her hair is in a messy ponytail. You can smell a faint hint of sweat. She's still gorgeous, though.

"What are you doing here?" you ask, trying to hide your shock. 

She looks behind her, as if to verify that she's in the correct place, then turns back around. "This is my apartment," she states, slowly, as if she's speaking to a child requiring stabilization. 

"Since when?" 

She laughs at this, and your heart flutters. "Since I've lived here. Which is a long time, considering this is the second year."

"No, I mean," you pause, searching for the right words. "I haven't seen you around? I mean, you're right next door. There's no way I could've missed you."

Her lips form an 'o' shape, and she nods. "Ah, well, I travel a lot for work so I haven't been home much. I was out of the country for a while."

You nod, "Oh. That makes sense. Well, see ya!"

You turn on your heel and make your way back towards your apartment, embarrassment beginning to flood through your body, when Bada's voice stops you.

"Hey, wait."

You turn around, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

She looks amused. "Are you going to tell me why you came knocking? Or did you just want to see me?"

Your eyes widen and your cheeks burn. "What? No, I'm sorry, I-"

She interrupts you with a laugh. "Relax, I'm joking."

You nod, feeling relieved. You weren't sure why this woman made you feel so incompetent. "Well, it’s the music. It's really loud, and-"

"Oh, shit," she cuts in, her eyes widening. "I'm sorry, I forgot. I'm not used to having neighbors. It's been a while since someone lived next door."

"It's totally fine, it's just...a bit much."

"Gotcha," she replies.

You stare at each other for a few seconds, and you can feel yourself begin to sweat. You clear your throat. "Well, I should probably go now."

She nods, a slight frown on her face. "Okay. See you around."

"See ya," you reply, awkwardly, before walking away.

When you reach your door, you let out a deep breath As annoyed and embarrassed as you were, seeing her again was a bit of a pleasant surprise. She seemed even more beautiful now than she did in the elevator. Your mind wanders back to the sleeveless shirt she had on. The hair bun that gave you a clear view of her neck, her jawline, her collarbones.

You shake the thought from your head and walk into your apartment. You needed to put yourself out there, soon. It’s been too long since you’ve felt a woman’s touch, and now you can barely look at an attractive woman without spiraling into a frenzy. 

You decide to go take a shower and call it an early night, hoping that a session with Rosalia 3000 will ease your mind. 

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You stand behind the counter, boredly wiping down the surfaces. It's a slow day, and Mijoo is off, finally using her vacation days. The cafe is mostly empty, save for a few students studying in the corner. You've already cleaned the entire place twice today, and the clock hasn't even struck 4 o'clock yet. It was days like these that you hated most. As much as you disliked angry customers, having to stand behind the counter doing nothing all day was enough to make you want to claw your eyes out.

You sigh, and lean back against the counter. You check your phone, just in case you missed any messages you’ve been waiting for. When the screen loads, the familiar white background greets you, with no new notifications.

You lock the screen, and stuff the device into the pocket of your apron. You look around the cafe, hoping to find something to occupy your mind. Your eyes land on the display cases of cakes on the far end of the counter, and an idea pops into your head.

You grab a bag of flour, sugar, eggs, milk, and baking powder from the storage room. You mix the ingredients together, and add a few teaspoons of vanilla extract. After about ten minutes, the batter is ready, and you scoop some into a pastry bag. You start to pipe the dough into shapes, filling the space. The familiar motion relaxes you, and you can feel the stress slowly leaving your body. There were only a select few people in the cafe who were permitted to contribute to the array of treats your cafe housed. Unfortunately, you weren’t one of those people, leaving you little time to partake in your passion in between busy shifts and tiring days. You needed this. 

Working quickly, you fill up the space within 30 minutes. After placing the cookies in the backoven, you start cleaning up the counter, throwing away any leftover bits of dough and tossing the used bowls and utensils into the sink. When you finish cleaning the area as best as you can, you turn back around, and your eyes widen as you realize you aren't alone.

Standing before you, his arms crossed, is the man with the ridiculous coffee order from a couple days ago. Yikes. 

"Um," you begin, trying to keep your voice from wavering."Can I help you?"

"I’ve been standing here for two minutes,” he begins, and you can hear the aggravation in his voice. "Do you not know how to do your job?"

"I-"

"So you’re not just a terrible barista, you’re a terrible worker too,” he spits out.“There are barely any people in this cafe and you can’t keep up?”

You clench your jaw, trying to keep the anger bubbling up inside of you at bay. "Sir, I apologize for not noticing you sooner, but I’ll be happy to assist you now."

"Yeah, I’m sure. Where’s your manager?”

Your eye twitches. “He isn’t here right now. I can assure you I’ll be able to help you with anything you need."

"Well do you have a way to contact him? A phone number? Zoom?”

You shake your head. "Sorry, sir. Our manager prefers that we only contact him when he is away if there’s an emergency.”

He releases a maniacal laugh, then immediately straightens his face. “Is this not an emergency? How is this not an emergency when the service in this shop is so fucked that you don’t see a customer standing in plain sight for ten minutes?” 

You blink. “I thought—never mind. Sir, again, I’m terribly sorry. If you’d like, I can give you this drink on the house and—"

He cuts you off. "I don't want a refund. I want better quality of service…”

He drones on, and at this point you tune him out. There was nothing you could do or say to satisfy him. Really, the irony of the situation just made you want to laugh. He was complaining about you wasting his time, and by doing so was wasting even more time. Did this man actually have a job other than being a menace to innocent baristas? Probably not. As you mindlessly watch the man flail his arms in exasperation, you hear the bell above the entrance ring. You’re about to glance over, when the man in front of you slams his palm on the counter, demanding your attention.

"I'm not done yet! I've spent the last fifty six minutes telling you everything you're doing wrong, and you've barely apologized. In fact—"

"I'm sorry, sir, but if you don’t calm down I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” You cut him off, your voice surprisingly steady.

"What?" His mouth hangs open.

You cross your arms. "You are disrupting the environment and harassing me.”

"Harassing?" He repeats, incredulously. "Are you fucking kidding me? Who the hell are you to tell me what to do? You don’t have the authority to kick me out.”

You roll your eyes. "I'm not kicking you out. You are free to stay and order anything you'd like. If, however, you choose to continue to cause a scene, I'll have no choice but to have you escorted off the premises."

His eyes narrow, and this time he crosses his arms. "Yeah? And who’s gonna escort me?”

Customer service thrown out the window, you open your mouth to call him a prickly little bitch, but are interrupted by the sudden appearance of a hooded figure walking up beside him.

"Leave her alone," a familiar voice states. You look over, and realize the individual you’re looking at is Bada, who towers over the man beside her. 

The man scoffs, and looks her up and down. "Excuse me? Mind your own.”

"This is her cafe, and she has a right to kick you out if you're being disruptive."

"I'm not bothering anyone," the man retorts.

"Well, you’re bothering me. I’ve had to stand here and watch you squeal for the past few minutes and quite frankly it's starting to piss me off. If you don’t leave, I'll escort you out myself."

The man opens his mouth, presumably to spit some more venom, but the sight of Bada's clenched fists and murderous glare causes him to snap his mouth shut. He glares at the two of you for a moment, before turning on his heel and stalking off.

Both of you watch him leave. As the door closes behind him, you witness the door swing shut with surprising speed, smacking into Mr. Grumpington's rear end just as he reaches the threshold. Stumbling forward with a startled yelp, his briefcase flies out of his grasp, scattering papers across the sidewalk. 

Your hand flings up, over your mouth as you observe him stand slowly, his knees wobbling. A woman and her child pass by him with bewildered expressions, and you repress your laughter. Once he gathers himself, he shoots a withering glare in the direction of the café, and storms off. 

Old man finally gone, Bada turns back to you, her expression soft. "Sorry. I know I probably overstepped, but I saw the whole thing and I was worried he was going to hurt you.”

You sober up and shake your head, smiling slightly. "No, it's okay. He was being an asshole and I didn't know what to do with him. I'm glad you were here."

Bada returns your smile, and you're once again taken aback by her. “Anytime."

"I have cookies, if you'd like some," you offer, suddenly remembering the sweets baking in the oven. "On the house, for the trouble."

Bada's eyes light up. "I'd love some! And an iced latte, please.”

You nod. "Sure. Have a seat and I'll bring it out."

Bada takes a seat in a booth in the corner, and pulls out a laptop. As the coffee brews, you glance at her as she types and reads something on the screen, her expression concentrated. She purses her lips as as she focuses on whatever she’s looking at, and you find yourself staring.

She looks up, catching your eye. You blush, and spin around to face the display case, pretending to wipe it down. You grab the iced latte and a plate of cookies, and walk over to Bada.

"Thanks!" she says, smiling, and grabs a cookie. She takes a bite and hums in satisfaction.  

"Good, right?" you question, a smile tugging at your lips.

"So good!" she affirms, her cheeks full of the pastry. 

You break into a wide grin that you’re not sure is because of the woman’s cuteness, or the pride blooming in your chest. "Thanks. I made them." 

She raises her eyebrows. "Wait, really? Woah. I'm impressed."

Playing nonchalant, you shrug. "It's whatever."

She laughs. "It's not whatever! These would sell out in seconds if you displayed them in here," she remarks, grabbing another one. 

You're reminded of the call you're still waiting on, and try to dispel the anxiousness growing inside you. That’s the plan, just not here. You decide not to bring that up, though. You dont wanting to put a damper her spirits with your oversharing.

But you're not tired of hearing her praises. "You think?" 

"Definitely,” she confirms. "I'll come by every day to buy a dozen.”

"I'll hold you to it."

"Please do," she responds, and you swear you detect a hint of flirtation in her voice. Before you can retort, a notification pops up on her computer, and her eyes dart down. She sighs. 

"Everything alright?" you ask.

She nods, but her brows are furrowed. "Yeah. I'm just stressed. My job has been keeping me super busy lately."

You nod, and hesitate before asking, "If you don't mind me asking, what do you do?"

"Oh," she answers, her face clearing up. "I'm a dancer. And I choreograph for kpop groups."

Your eyes widen. "Whoa. That's cool."

"Thanks," she responds. She pauses for a moment, and she looks like she wants to say more. "It is, but...I don't know, sometimes these companies get on my nerves." She says with a tired laugh. 

You're a bit surprised by her confession, and the dejected look on her face makes your heart hurt. "What do you mean?"

She shrugs. "They're never quite satisfied with what we do and it sucks, you know? The only time I have fun is when I'm working with a company that doesn't treat their artists like shit."

You frown. "Yeah, I can't even begin to imagine how frustrating that is. I'm sorry." 

She smiles, looking sheepish. "No, I'm sorry for venting. It's been a long week."

You shake your head. "Don't apologize. You're saving me from having to clean the counter for the nth time today."

She smirks. "I thought the jerk from earlier was already doing that?"

"Oh god, please don't bring him up again." You groan, and she giggles in a way that makes your chest warm.

"Don't worry. He won't bother you anymore. I scared him away," she says, wiggling her eyebrows.

You laugh, and a comfortable silence falls between the two of you. You're about to ask her another question when you hear the bell on the door chime. You look over, and see a group of college students walking in. Your stomach drops. 

"Guess it's time for me to actually do my job,” you mutter. 

She nods. "What time do you get off? Maybe we could talk more after you're done? Walk home together?"

Walk home together? You should’ve put on a better perfume today. "Sure, but I'm gonna be here for another couple hours."

She slaps her hands together. “That’s actually perfect. I have a bunch of videos to review anyway. I'll be here." She gives you a small wave, and returns to her laptop. You walk away, unable to contain your grin.

And she is there. As the night drags on, as the rush comes in and finally calms, as the clock strikes 8, and as you close the doors.

You turn the keys, locking the door. You turn around, and she's there, waiting for you, laptop in hand.  She kicks a rock and it skitters away, hitting a lamppost. When she notices you watching, she offers a shy smile.

"Ready to go?" she asks.

"Sure am," You respond, and the two of you start heading down the street. 

The air is warm and the night sky is clear, the stars twinkling brightly. You glance over at her, and admire the way the streep lamps lights up her face. Her eyes are focused ahead, and you stare at her profile. She notices you staring, and turns her head, smiling softly.

"What's up?" she questions.

You shake your head and face forward, wanting to crawl in a hole at your slip-up. "Nothing." You feel the heat rise to your cheeks. This is silly. You've seen this woman plenty of times recently. Hell, you were just in the cafe together not even fifteen ago. But now, walking side-by-side with her, the air between you heavy, you can't help but feel a need to impress her. The idea that you could possibly have a friendship (or more?) with her makes your heart soar. It's silly, and maybe a bit childish, but you're not one to let a good feeling pass by. So, you take a chance, wanting to make this work. 

"So, I don't know much about you, but I'd love to," you begin, and her gaze darts towards you. "Tell me about yourself. You said you were a dancer, right?"

"Oh, yeah." She nods. "I started dancing when I was a kid. It was fun, but I didn't start taking it seriously until I was older. I started out doing covers, and eventually landed an audition with a company. That's how I got my foot in the door, and then I kept climbing and now I'm here."

"That's amazing," you tell her. "I'm guessing it's a lot of hard work?"

She nods. "Definitely. It's rewarding, though."

You want to know more, so you ask her more questions, and you follow into comfortable chatter as she tells you all about her life. She asks you a few questions too, some of which you avoid, like why you moved here, or why you're working at the cafe that you obviously dislike. But, overall, the conversation flows easily, and before you know it, the two of you are standing in front of your apartment building.

As the two of you approach the lobby, Bada speaks. "We should do this more often."

"Which part? Walking home together, or me talking your ear off about the ending of Twenty-Five Twenty-One?"

"Mostly the first part. Although I didn't mind hearing you talk about that kdrama. The lead actress is really hot."

You snort, and she follows suit. "You know, I'm glad you came into the cafe today," you confess.

"Me too." She responds, and the two of you stop in front of your door. You're unsure of what to say next, but Bada steps forward, and you tense. Was this really happening?

But then she's inching away, her hands tucked into her pockets. You relax, and ignore the slight disappointment built up in your chest. Duh, you think, shaking your head. What were you expecting?

"Well, have a good night." You say, offering her a small smile.

"You too," she says. "I'll see you soon."

She waves, and you watch her go, before unlocking the door and walking into the apartment. You close your door behind you, and lean against it, releasing a breath.

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Over the next week, you see Bada in passing in the hallway multiple times. Each time she sees you, she stops and says hi, and you talk for a bit. She stops by the cafe a few times too, although she hasn't been able to walk home with you again yet, having a late-night schedule nearly everyday.

But each encounter makes your heart race, and by the end of the week, you feel like your chest might explode. You're not sure the attraction is reciprocated, but even if it is, would she actually be interested in someone like you? Someone who had to deal with a shitty customer service job, was running increasingly low on money, had a terrible sleep schedule, and was depending on one call to determine whether or not this move was a mistake? Probably not. The videos you've been watching for the past hour have made that evident. 

Curiosity got the best of you, and you finally looked up Bada about an hour ago. It didn't take long for her to pop up. A ton of information about her was available, from her birthday, to her favorite food, to her shoe size. You mostly ignored that stuff, opting to watch her choreography videos instead. A horrible mistake. She was undeniably talented and captivating, and watching her perform made you feel a million things all at once, the most powerful being desire, much to your dismay. Why was that woman always humping the floor? 

After watching the last video, which was a choreography of a popular girl group's song, you shut your computer and lean back on the couch. You stare at the wall separating your apartment from hers, wondering  what she's doing right now. Is she getting ready for bed? Did she have a busy day? Is she thinking of you, like how you're thinking of her? Doubtful, but the thought makes your stomach flip. 

A notification from your phone interrupts your pity party. You assume it's a notification about a delivery you have coming, but you're surprised to see a text from one of your hometown friends. 

Jasmine: heyyy how is everything going over there!

Jasmine: opened up your dream bakery yet?

Not this. You really, really do not want to get into this right now, especially with your friends and family from home, who had high expectations for you. But they were your friends, and you didn't want to keep them in the dark. You take a deep breath, and respond.

y/n: almost. just working at a cafe while I'm getting everything settled.

You wait a few minutes, but she doesn't respond. You sigh. Another thing you miss from home—texting your friends in real time. It would have been nice to be able to vent.

You're about to stand up when you get a response.

Jasmine: oh okay! just be careful not to fall into the same trap you were in here. I don't want you working yourself to death :(

y/n: i won't.

Jasmine: good.

Jasmine: anyway, met anybody cute out there yet?

You stare at the screen, and you can't help but smile.

y/n: yes.

Jasmine: OMG!!!

Jasmine: details plz!

You laugh.

y/n: it's none of your business, lol.

Jasmine: come ooooon y/n!

y/n: nope! I don't want to jinx anything

Jasmine: fine. just keep me updated.

You're about to respond, but a knock at your front door startles you. You set your phone down, and walk over to the door, looking through the peephole, and speak of the devil: It's Bada.

You quickly comb a hand through your hair and rub the sleep out of your eyes. Taking a deep breath, you open the door, trying not to look flustered.

"Hey!" you greet.

"Hi." She responds, and you immediately recognize that something is decidedly off. She looks tense. Her brows are furrowed, and she’s avoiding eye contact, shifting her weight from side to side awkwardly. You see her clutching something behind her back, but cannot make out what it is. 

"Um, are you okay?" you ask hesitantly, half-ready to grab the (tall and grown) woman to pull her inside your apartment to protect her from potential imminent dangers.

"Yeah. I just-um. I think your package was delivered to the wrong address?" She pulls her arm from behind her back, and hands you a large box with it flipped to the bottom. "Sorry."

"Oh!" you take the package, are immediately met with the recipient name printed in bold font that is, of course, addressed to you. "Thank you. Sorry about that."

"No worries." She smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes. "I'll, uh, see you around."

"Yeah, definitely."

She walks away, and you're left standing in the doorway, a bit confused. That was...weird. You step back inside, shutting the door. You set the package down on the coffee table, and just as you are about to rip it open, you make eye contact with the imagery on the front of the package. 

Your eyes widen. Oh no. How could you have forgotten?

There, plastered across the front of the box, was a clear picture of a very suggestive toy. You read the words below the image.

"Battery-Operated Love: Your Guide To The Best Vibrators, Toys, and Dildos!"

You stare. You blink. You look around, as if someone is playing a prank on you. You stare some more. 

Then, you hurriedly reach for the throw pillow sitting next to you on the couch, and scream into it.

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You sigh, tapping your foot against the floor to the rhythm of humming washers. It's early morning, the sun barely peeking out, and you're currently in the laundry room in your building, waiting for your clothes to dry.

It's been a few days since your package fiasco, and Bada hasn't made another appearance. You'd say she's trying to avoid you, but in reality, you’re the one going out of your way to steer clear of her potential judgments. You've even taken to staying in late, leaving the apartment only to go to work, where you've adjusted your schedule to further avoid the woman in case she tried to stop by. You acknowledge the fact that you're probably overreacting. It wasn't that big of a deal. You're a grown woman with needs! And you weren't going to let those needs fester when you had such an accessible way of gratifying them. You couldn't let the hard work that ancient physicians put into developing such helpful products go to waste. You love to support small businesses!

Although, you weren’t a big fan of the one you ordered from this time. So much for "discreet packaging.”

You stand up, deciding to grab a drink from the vending machine outside to cool your nerves. You reach the lobby, and walk towards the corner, where the row of machines are lined up in front of windows that belong to the gym. You insert your coins, press a few buttons, and wait for your drink. The vending machine is old, and the whirring and clanging of the dispensing mechanism are loud, so it takes longer than usual.

You glance around as you wait, and your eyes finally settle on the windows. You squint, noticing a familiar silhouette performing a series of exercises.

Bada is inside, doing pull-ups. Her back is to you, and her hair is pulled into a ponytail. She's wearing a loose t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and shorts. Sweat drips from her forehead and down her back, and the muscles in her arms flex and move with each lift.

You feel your throat dry up. The machine spits out the can, and you grab it. You hesitate for a moment, and then step forward, pushing open the glass door leading into the gym as if you were moving on autopilot. You don't know what you're doing.

"Hey!" you greet.

She turns around, eyes wide, and lowers herself onto the ground. "Hi."

"How are you?" you ask.

"Good! Just finishing up my workout," she answers, reaching for the towel draped on a bench beside her.

"Cool," you answer, trying not to focus on the way her chest heaves as she catches her breath.

"What about you? Haven't seen you around lately," she says, wiping the sweat from her neck.

"I've been busy," you lie, weakly holding up your can. "Just got something from the vending machine while I'm waiting for my laundry. Probably gonna head out and run some errands after this.”

"Ah, okay." She nods, and reaches for a water bottle. You watch her tilt her head back, gulping down the liquid, her Adam's apple bobbing as she swallows. Your eyes travel to her neck, and her collarbone, which is exposed, and the droplets of sweat that rest on her skin. You watch her throat move, and suddenly, your mind is filled with images of her lips trailing down your neck, nipping at your throat, and you're overcome with desire. 

You swallow, then continue rambling, trying to rid yourself of your debauched thinking. "Yup, heading over to Itaewon with a friend tonight. Probably won't be back home until tomorrow morning!" you say with the projection of a teenage boy who had his first drink yesterday. You weren't lying this time, though. After the incident, you were humbled into a state of reflection. You wanted to try putting yourself out there, and potentially find gratification beyond something that was battery-powered. Mijoo was ecstatic to hear this, and immediately sent you a list of clubs she and her friends frequented. 

"Sounds fun." She takes another sip, and sets the bottle down. "Hope you have a good time. Actually, do you have time to do me a favor before you get back to your laundry?"

"What kind of favor?" you ask, a bit suspicious.

"Can you spot me?" she asks, and you're confused for a moment. She gestures towards a padded spot on the floor. "I was gonna do some more reps, and I’d really appreciate it if you could help me—um—make sure my form was right. f you don't have time, that's fine, I can ask someone else."

"No!" you answer. She jerks her head back in confusion, and you flush at your stumble. "No, I have time. I can spot you."

"Awesome! Thanks so much," she says with her signature heartwarming grin. "I'll just do a couple of sets. It shouldn't take too long.”

”I should warn you that I don’t know anything about weightlifting. Or strength exercises. Or cardio—”

"Not a problem. I’ll just do sit-ups." She reassures as she sits on the floor, and lies down.

“Oh. Okay,” you felt like you were in grade school. "Are we counting or not counting?"

"Um, counting would be helpful," she says.

You nod, and kneel beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder. You feel her tense for a second, but are quickly distracted trying not to focus on the way the damp fabric of her shirt sticks to her skin. "Okay. Ready when you are."

You count, and with each sit-up, the muscles in her arms flex, her jaw tightens, and her breathing becomes labored. You're in such close proximity to her, her arm brushes against yours every time she goes down. The heat radiating from her body is palpable, and you feel yourself begin to sweat, the air becoming hot.

When she's finished, she falls back onto the mat, and you release the breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding. She gets up, and wipes the sweat from her forehead.

"Well, that was fun," she says, standing up to grab her stuff. 

"Yeah, it sure was," you murmer, trying to hide the fact that you're completely out of breath despite doing nothing but count. You stand up, and follow her out the door. "See you later, Bada."

Bada waves, looking you over once more in a manner that makes your insides twist, before turning around a speed-walking toward the elevators. 

You take a minute to breathe and head back into the laundry room, where your clothes are ready. Instead of grabbing them, you collapse into one of the cheap folding chairs in the corner of the room. Your clothes are probably tinier at this point, but you can't bring yourself to move. Why did you even walk in there in the first place? You knew well that you weren’t capable of acting normal in front of that woman.

You remind yourself of your plans with Mijoo tonight. A club. In the city. With pretty people. Where alcohol was served.

You take a deep breath, and stand up, taking your clothes and throwing them in your basket.

You'd be fine. 

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An ear-splitting wail from the girl next to you almost makes you drop your drink.

"I CAN'T DO THIS SHIT ANYMORE!" the woman screeches, and Mijoo, who is currently attempting to console her, rolls her eyes.

"Honey, please, don't make a scene."

"But it's true! I'm a loser, and I'm going to die alone! I might as well stop trying!”

"No, you're not, just stop drinking," Mijoo responds, her voice a few octaves higher in annoyance. She glances at you, and rolls her eyes.

The two of you are at the gay bar in Itaewon, and after an hour and a half, it seems that the night is coming to an end. Mijoo's friend, Naeun, had a mental breakdown after spotting her ex-girlfriend making out with the woman she told her not to worry about. After that, the mood was completely killed. Naeun feigned nonchalance at first.That relationship was seven months ago, she said. I’ve moved on, she said. I’ve had better, she said. it was almost convincing, until you saw her gulp down three shots at a pace you did not know was humanly possible.

And now…

"It's like, you don't listen to anything I say," Naeun sniffles, and you genuinely feel bad for her. You give her a gentle pat on the back, and she turns to hug you.

"I know, I'm a horrible friend or whatever. Let's just go home and eat ice cream or something," Mijoo sighs, and the two of you help Naeun stand.

"Yes. Thank you. You guys are the best," she whimpers. "I don't deserve you."

"Yes, you do," Mijoo assures.

"Yeah, it's all good," you chime in. "Let's just get you home. I think you've had enough alcohol for the next week. Or year."

You and Mijoo drag her out of the bar and into the streets of Itaewon. It's dark, and the neon lights illuminate the sidewalks, where drunk patrons stumble through. You're a little buzzed, and Naeun's deadweight is difficult to carry. Somehow, you manage to get her onto the subway, and inside your building, which is closest. When you reach your front door, you can't help but glance over at Bada's apartment, and are surprised to see a light peeking through the crack between the door and the frame.

"You live here?" Naeun slurs, and you nod, opening the door and dragging her in.

"We'll put her on the couch. Do you mind if we stay over?" Mijoo suggests.

"Not at all," you agree, and the two of you set her down. She groans, and closes her eyes, stretching across your couch in a starfish position. Her dress has risen all the way up to her stomach, but she doesn’t seem to care, You grimace at the sight. "Poor thing."

"She'll be fine," Mijoo says, waving her off. "Come on, I’m starving,"

You follow her into your kitchen and lean against the counter as she reaches into your fridge to pours herself a drink. So much for ice cream. 

"Sorry our plans fell through," she apologizes, and you shrug.

"It's not a big deal. Shit happens. Besides, I had fun even though we were only out for, like, five seconds," you answer.

She takes a sip of the liquid in her cup. “We can try again next week? I'll make sure that Naeun is mentally stable next time."

"I don’t know. That doesn’t sound as fun,” you joke, and she grins.

"You’re so right,” she pauses as she opens your fridge back up, and gasps. "Ooh, y/n, can I have one of these?"

"One of what?" you ask, peering over her shoulder, only to find her holding cupcake that you'd made earlier. "Oh, yeah, sure. Go ahead."

She rips off the wrapper, and takes a bite, moaning. "Wow, this is—"

A loud thump sounds from the other side of the wall, and the two of you turn your heads, eyes wide.

"Is that your neighbor?" Mijoo whispers, and the two of you stand still, listening intently. There are a few more thumps, and then a sharp gasp.

"I think she's fucking someone," Mijoo whispers, and then a moan sounds from the other side, followed by a string of curse words, and the bed frame slams against the wall, a rhythmic knocking echoing throughout the apartment.

Naeun sits up from where she's sitting on the couch, and mechanically states, "I need to call her."

"Don't you dare," Mijoo growls, aggressively pointing a finger at the pitiful girl. Naeun whines, and collapses back onto the couch, and you continue to stare at the wall with wide eyes. This couldn't be happening.

You're quiet, listening to the creeks of the bed, the groans, the panting, the curses, and, despite the situation, you can’t help but feel…curious. You’d usually be irked by this situation, reminded of the particularly horrific nights you’d have when you lived with a roommate in your younger years. As made evident by the fluttering in your stomach (and in other parts of your body) you, this was not that. Not even close. 

Mijoo laughs. "Oh my god, does this usually happen?"

You snap out of your stupor. "Uh, no, actually. She's usually pretty quiet."

"Really?"

"Yeah. And besides, she's sweet, so it's kind of weird hearing this, but, uh, it's whatever," you reply, attempting to ignore a squeal that vaguely resembles Bada's name.

The bed's movements pick up speed, and the sounds become louder.

"Oh my god," Mijoo murmurs, covering her ears. Naeun starts crying again.

"She's gonna fuck her to death," Naeun sobs, and then the two of you can’t help but burst into laughter. You walk over to the living room, and pat her on the back.

"Come on, let's get you to sleep," you say, helping her up. "You can have the bed. Mijoo and I will take the couch."

"Thank you, I love you both so much," she blubbers, and you drag her into the bedroom, tucking her into the bed.

"We're gonna stay in the living room, so holler if you need us, okay?" you tell her, and she nods.

"I love you guys," she slurs, and then passes out, mouth wide open. 

"She’s so dramatic," Mijoo cackles as you close the door. 

You and Mijoo get ready to go to sleep, and soon enough the obscene noises from next door are gone. But, as you fall asleep on the couch, they still ring in your head.

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"I'm so sorry for the way I acted last night." Naeun apologizes, a pout on her face. You wave her off. “Don't worry, you're good. At least you gave us some entertainment while you were at it. Are you okay, though?"

She shrugs, adjusting the duffle bag on her shoulder. "Yeah. I mean, it was a pretty big blow, but I'll get over it. She's not worth the tears."

"Atta girl," Mijoo cooes, patting Naeun's head. She turns to you, and smiles. "Thanks for letting us stay over, y/n."

You open your front door, and wave. "Yeah, of course. I'll see you guys later."

Just as the two girls step out, the door to the apartment next to yours opens. You all look to the side, and notice a disheveled woman with blonde hair and bright red lipstick exiting into the hallway. You and Mijoo exchange glances as the woman's eyes meet yours. She gives a small, awkward smile when she notices the three of you, and then bows before hurrying down the hallway.

"Was that your neighbor?" Mijoo asks, and you shake your head. 

The actual neighbor in question steps into the hallway, and the three of you watch her with wide eyes. She's wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, long hair cascading down her back. 

Bewildered by your stares, she looks at the three of you with confusion.

"Hello," she greets, bowing, and the three of you bow back. "How are you?"

Naeun's eyes become the size of saucers. "Y-you're Bad—"

"Good!" Mijoo interrupts, and gives a wide, forced smile. "We're all doing well."

"That's good," Bada replies, giving a polite nod. She looks at you, and the corners of her lips quirk upwards. "Hi, y/n. Nice seeing you."

After last night’s noises, her politeness makes you want to laugh. or scream. or cry. You return the smile, gripping your doorknob until your knuckles turn white. "Yeah, nice seeing you, too."

She turns her attention back to the other two, waves, then walks off.

Mijoo and Naeun immediately whip around to face you.

"Your neighbor is Bada Lee?!" Naeun screeches.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Mijoo yells, and you step back.

"Bye guys!" you say, closing the door on the two of them.

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Shortly before closing, the bell rings.

"Hello!" you chirp. "Welcome to—oh, hello!"

"Hey, y/n." Bada waves.

"Hey," you say, even though the two of you already said hello. "How are you?"

"Good, and you?"

"Great, thanks," she responds, staying put in front of the door. "Uh, I actually came here to, um, ask if you wanted to walk home together? I was just passing by, and I thought maybe we could just, like, walk back. At the same time. Since we both have to, um, go there. To our respective homes. I know it's been a while, but I thought it'd be fun. I-if you want some company, I mean. Sorry, I'll leave if you want me to, I'm just—"

"Bada," you interrupt, and she looks up, her eyes meeting yours. "I'd love to."

She blinks. "You would?"

The look of surprise on her face almost startles you back into hesitation. Why wouldn’t you want to spend time with the woman? Even with all the moments you’ve wanted to bury yourself in a hole because of your embarrassment, you couldn’t find it in yourself to ever say no. 

Untying your apron from around your waist, you nod. "Yeah! Just give me a second to grab my stuff."

"Okay." She grins. "Thanks."

You pick up your belongings, clock out, and the two of you stepping outside. You lock the doors, and begin to walk towards your building. 

"So, how was your night yesterday?" Bada asks, and you almost trip at the reminder of yesterday’s events. 

"Uh, it was fine," you reply, clearing your throat. "What about yours?"

"Oh, it was, um, good." She nods.

I’m sure it was, you think. You look at the ground, biting the inside of your cheek. "That's good."

The two of you walk in silence, and now you feel awkward. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. The only sounds surrounding you are of the rustling of the trees, and the occasional passing car.

"Was that your girlfriend?" she suddenly blurts out, and you whip your head around to look at her.

"Huh?"

"Last night, when I ran into the three of you in the hallway. Were one of those girls your girlfriend? Or…”

"No, neither of them," you reply, shaking your head. "One of them is Mijoo, the coworker I told you about, and her friend, Naeun. They came over after we went to a bar."

"Ah." She nods, looking at the sidewalk, and your eyes narrow. You swear you see a small smile on her face. 

"What about your girl?" you ask, and her head shoots up.

"My girl?"

"Yeah. Was the girl that was over last night your girlfriend?"

"Oh, no, no, she wasn't," she quickly answers.

"Hm," you hum. And then, your next words spill from your mouth before you can even process them. "I would've thought so with all of the…screaming that was going on."

"W-what?" she stammers, freezing in her tracks.

"Uh," you say, stopping as well. "Nothing. Forget I said anything."

"Did you hear...us?" she asks, her voice quiet, and you can't bear to look at her. Why did you speak up? You didn’t want her to feel embarrassed. Or worse, think of you as a creep for listening in. 

"Yes," you murmur, and she lets out a groan, her face turning a shade of pink.

"I am so, so sorry. I thought you were gone. Oh my god, that is so embarrassing." She buries her face in her hands, and despite your previous regrets, you bite your lip to suppress a giggle. Her reaction was too cute. 

"It's okay, really," you assure, and she drops her hands, still refusing to look at you. You smile, and continue walking. "Don't worry about it."

"But that's so embarrassing," she whines, and you laugh again. 

"You were clearly having a good time."

"Yeah, but I didn't want you to hear," she sighs, and you pat her back.

"Well, at least we're even now."

"What do you mean?" she asks, puzzled.

Uh oh. She probably already forgot about the delivery situation, and you just brought it up for no reason. What the fuck was up with you right now? You were just saying anything. 

"Oh, nevermind. Forget about it," you respond, waving her off.

"What was it, though? I haven't heard you…uh…do anything before," she protests, and you shrug, trying to brush her off.

"Nope! Forget about it! I confused you with someone else," you rush out, picking up your pace as you make eye contact with your building.

"You have another neighbor that could’ve potentially heard you having sex?" she replies, clearly confused, as she jogs slightly to catch up.

"No idea!" you sing, and open the door, stepping into the lobby.

"This makes no sense. Now I’m not gonna stop asking," she tells you, and you can't help but laugh. 

"And I'm not going to stop avoiding the question."

"Y/n!"

You enter the elevator, and press the button to the 8th floor, watching her enter. You give a polite smile, and she sighs, giving up.

"Fine," she finishes with a pout. 

The elevator goes up, and the two of you stand in comfortable silence. You don't know if it's because of the woman's earlier embarrassment, but something about tonight definitely has you feeling a little bold and ready to tease. 

"Hey," you pipe up, and she looks over at you. "You guys were pretty loud."

"Shut up," she grumbles, and you can't help but smirk, watching her glare at the floor.

"My friends almost called the police. It sounded like you were committing murder."

"What?" she exclaims, and then groans. "Oh my god, don't."

"And I almost let them. I was like, woah. I knew this woman couldn't be entirely perfect and had to be keeping some sort of deep, dark, secret. But a serial killer? I would've never thought. Turns out you just had a serial moaner in there, I guess."

"Please stop."

"I mean, what were you doing to that poor girl. I—"

"At this point, it just seems like you're trying to get details out of me," she interjects.

"W-what?" you squeak, and she smiles, turning to look at you, suddenly cool and collected. 

She shrugs. "You keep bringing it up."

You scoff. How dare she accuse you of such a thing! All of the thirst comments under her posts must have gotten to her head.

"You're ridiculous," you retort.

"Am I wrong, though?" she counters, and you stare at her with wide eyes.

"No," you reply quickly, and then you mentally facepalm, realizing what you said. "I mean yes. You're wrong."

"Right," she chuckles, and the elevator dings, the doors opening. "I have a question for you."

"Yeah, sure, what is it?" you ask, stepping out into the hallway.

She bites her lip, clearly trying to stifle a laugh. "Have you had the chance to use your Satisfyer Pro yet?"

Your jaw drops, aghast. "Wh-what? What the fu—"

"Goodnight, y/n," she grins, snickering as she runs inside her apartment like a little goblin, leaving you to watch her with a mixture of disbelief and irritation.

You can't help but let out a huff of laughter as you enter your own apartment.

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You're sitting in bed with a slice of cake on your lap, blanket tossed to the side due to the hot weather, binge-watching a new series. You contemplate checking your email for a message from that landlord, but decide against it, not wanting to put a damper on your decent mood. Instead, you tune in to another episode of a k-drama, in which the protagonist dies for a second time. Supposedly, it's for real this time. 

You're about to finish the slice when there's a knock at the door. You frown, pausing the episode. You stand up, place the plate on the dresser, then walk towards the front door, peering through the peephole. Your heart begins to beat faster when you see a certain woman standing outside your apartment. 

"What's up?" you greet, swinging the door open.

"Hey," she says, a soft smile on her face. She's wearing a pair of loose shorts and a white t-shirt, hair in a bun. Sweat glistens on her forehead, and her cheeks are flushed. You can't help but note how good she looks, despite looking rumpled. 

"Hi," you respond, returning the smile. "What's going on?" you ask, leaning against the doorframe.

"So, uh, my air conditioning broke," she begins. "And I was wondering if I could hang out in your apartment for a bit? The maintenance people said they aren't going to be able to get here until tomorrow. Apparently they don't work on Sundays."

You've suddenly become aware of the fact that Bada has never been inside your apartment. The idea of her being inside the same room as you, sitting on your furniture, breathing in the scent of your home, sends a wave of heat down your spine. Maybe it was best to reject her offer and suggest another solution.

"Come on in!" you say, and open the door.

"Thank you," she breathes out, walking in, and your eyes rake over her figure as she passes by you. 

She looks around, taking in the sight of your apartment. You notice her eyes linger on some of your old pictures from your hometown.

"Your apartment is really nice," she tells you, and you feel a rush of pride.

"Thank you! Feel free to take a seat wherever," you reply, gesturing towards the couch, and she sits, throwing her head back as she lets out a sigh of relief.

"You're a lifesaver," she declares, and you plop down next to her.

"What happened?" you ask, and she shakes her head.

”I wish I knew. I went to turn on my AC and it just, didn’t come on. Completely out of the blue.”

"That sucks," you respond, and she nods, a grim expression on her face.

"So," she begins, turning her head towards you. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," you answer, and then remember the slice of cake on the dresser. You point to it. "Would you like some?"

"Yes, please," she says, nodding fervently. "Water would be great, too, if you don't mind."

Grateful to put some distance between the two of you, you practically bounce out of your seat. "Coming right up!"

You return with two glasses of water and your cake. She thanks you, and you hand her a fork, taking one for yourself.

"This is really good, y/n. Did you make this too?" she praises, and you nod.

"I did. Thanks," you reply, taking a bite.

"You really need to give me the recipe for these things. Or start selling them! I'd buy them all," she compliments, and you blush, waving her off.

You stare at the ground for a moment, before laughing bitterly. "That was supposed to be the goal, I guess.”

She furrows her eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

You inhale slowly, prepping yourself. You hated this. But maybe you needed this. "I used to have my own bakery. In my hometown That's actually where I moved from. But then my landlord jacked the rent up and I couldn't afford it, and I was forced to close," you explain.

"Oh." She frowns. "That's awful. What a jerk."

"Tell me about it," you mumble, carelessly dropping your fork on the table.

"Are you looking for another place here?" she asks, and you nod.

"Yeah. There's a lot of great spots in Seoul, but there's one building in particular that I've had my eye on. It's not far from the Han River, and the rent is relatively cheap, and it's got everything I could possibly need. I'm just waiting to hear back from the that landlord. We were negotiating and things were going pretty well. But now its been months. I haven't heard from him since I moved here."

You blink back tears, and clear your throat, picking up the fork again. Whenever you think of everything that's happened to you recently, you cannot help but feel like an utter failure. You worked hard, finally achieved success, only for things to all fall apart. It seemed as if all of your efforts were for nothing.

"Hey," she whispers, and her voice is soft, calming. "It's gonna be okay."

She gently squeezes your arm, and her touch is warm. You look at her, and the tenderness in her eyes is enough to make you want to cry more. 

"I know. It's just hard, sometimes," you confess, and her hand remains on your arm.

"I get that, but I can promise you that what you're going through is temporary. I can't tell you how many times I thought I was done for good when I first started out, but now, I've come this far. If you keep your head up, and just keep working hard, you'll make it. You’ve done it before.”

Her words resonate with you, and her unwavering support fills you with hope. "Thanks, Bada," you respond, smiling.

"Of course," she responds, her eyes never leaving yours. "I'm here for you."

"I'm here for you too," you whisper.

A moment of silence passes, and your eyes travel to her hand. Her skin is smooth, and her fingers are long and slender. You wonder what they'd feel like intertwined with yours.

"Um, I’ve been meaning to ask," she says, interrupting your thoughts, and your eyes meet hers again. "Any new dramas you wanted to tell me about? Or, what about the one with that married couple you talked about?”

You almost laugh at her obvious attempt to distract you from your depressing thoughts.

"Pretty good," you reply, and she gives you a pointed look.

"And by pretty good, you mean..."

"Amazing, wonderful, mind-blowing, spectacular," you continue, and she nods, satisfied. "I was actually watching it before you knocked on the door."

"Ooh, really?" she responds, eyes widening.

"Yeah. Would you like to watch it together?" you suggest, and she grins.

"Yes, please."

"Okay," you giggle, and grab the remote, pressing play.

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Halfway through the episode, you decide to move to your bedroom (because the AC works better in there, of course!). Somehow, while lying on the bed, your legs become intertwined. She's sprawled out, and her head is resting in the crook of your neck, her soft hair tickling your face. 

You can feel her steady breathing, and the heat radiating off her body, and all of your senses are filled with her. You're so focused on her that you can't even focus on the episode.

"Y/n?" she murmurs, and her voice is low, quiet.

"Yeah?" you reply, voice equally as soft.

"Would it be weird if I said that I'm glad my air conditioner broke?"

You snort, and her body shakes with silent laughter. "Not at all."

You pause the show, and sit up. She does the same, and her eyes are shining.

"Do you want anything to eat? I've got chips, and some ice cream," you offer, and she bites her lip.

"Not really. Thanks, though," she responds, and your eyes travel to her lips. They're plump and pink, and you're tempted to reach out and kiss her.

"Okay, no problem," you say, and her gaze is intense, burning.

"Thanks for letting me come over. I appreciate it."

"Of course," you murmur, and then clear your throat. "Anytime."

"Really?"

"Yeah! You can even stay the night, if you want. I don't mind," you respond, and her eyebrows raise, lips curling upwards.

"Okay," she answers, and leans forward, cupping your face in her hands.

The action surprises you, and you let out a gasp. She pauses, eyes searching yours, and you nod, giving her permission.

She leans forward, and you close your eyes, waiting for her to press her lips against yours. Instead, you feel a pair of lips softly kissing your forehead, and your cheeks, and your jaw, and your nose, and then they finally, finally press against yours.

The kiss is gentle and sweet, and when she pulls away, her eyes are filled with affection.

"I've wanted to do that for so long," she admits, and you chuckle.

"Me too," you whisper, and her smile grows wider.

She moves closer to you, and you wrap your arms around her, pulling her into a hug. Her body is soft, and her skin is smooth, and you can feel her warmth seeping into your skin.

"I really like you, y/n," she whispers, and you tighten your hold on her.

"I really like you too, Bada," you respond, and she nuzzles her face into the crook of your neck. You're in heaven.

"Thank god. I was afraid I was making a fool out of myself," she confesses, and you giggle.

"What? Oh my god. Not at all," you assure her, and she pulls away, a smirk on her face.

"So, I was right about you wanting details?"

"Oh fuck you," you mutter, pulling her back into a significantly more aggressive kiss. A surprised noise escapes her lips, but she eventually melts into it, moving against you with equal fervor. Her hands run up and down your sides, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind, and you're so caught up in the sensation that you don't even realize when she starts straddling you until she presses her body against yours in a way that has you gasping.

Your hands travel underneath her shirt, feeling the smoothness of her warm skin, the lines of her stomach, the swell of her breasts, and the curves of her waist. She groans into the kiss before slipping her tongue into your mouth, causing heat to pool in the pit of your stomach.

When you pull away, she's panting, and her lips are swollen. Her hair is slightly mussed, and her pupils are dilated, her eyes filled with desire. Without words, you both begin removing each other's clothes, tossing them to the side. She's left in only a black bra and boxers, and you have to remind yourself to move.

She chuckles, and you stare at her chest. You can see the outline of her nipples, and you reach out, brushing a thumb against them, and she bites her lip, closing her eyes. You can feel her heart beating rapidly, and you trace circles around her nipples, and she lets out a shaky breath.

"Please," she begs, and you smile, pulling her into another kiss.

Your hands move lower, caressing the skin of her thighs, and then you're cupping her center, and she gasps, pulling away.

"Y/n," she pants, and the sound of her moaning your name sends another rush of heat down your spine.

"Bada," you breathe out, and press kisses against her jawline, and down her neck, and collarbone, and chest. Your hand is still between her thighs, and she bucks her hips, trying to find friction.

"Y/n, please," she repeats, and the desperation in her voice is so fucking hot.

You slip a finger inside her, and you feel her walls immediately clench, followed by a whimper you're not sure belongs to you or her. You curl your finger inside her, and her head falls back into the crook of your neck as she rolls her hips, grinding against your palm.

"More," she practically demands, and you add another finger.

She's soaking wet, and the lewd sounds coming from your fingers sliding in and out of her has you squeezing your thighs together, desperate for some sort of relief.

You use your thumb to rub circles on her clit, and her movements become more erratic, her moans becoming louder.

"I'm gonna-ugh," she pants, and her nails dig into your skin as she orgasms.

You can feel her walls clenching and unclenching, and her body trembles, her eyes squeezed shut. She breathes heavily, and the sight of her is enough to drive you wild.

You continue stroking her until she opens her eyes, and you can't help but grin.

"Holy shit," she manages, and you remove your fingers, and she lets out a moan.

"Good?"

"Yes," she replies, and leans forward, capturing your lips in a heated kiss.

"Now," she begins, breaking away. "Let me take care of you."

You can only nod as she reaches for your breasts, fondling them, and her eyes never leave yours. She's smirking, and the intensity in her gaze is enough to make your heart skip a beat.

You close your eyes, enjoying the sensation, and you nearly jump when you feel her body shift, her lips pressing against the sensitive skin of your neck.

She moves down, taking a nipple into her mouth, and you groan, arching your back. Her lips travel to your stomach, and then your thighs, and then you're lifting your hips, and she's sliding your underwear off.

"Spread your legs, y/n," she requests, and her voice is low, seductive.

You obey immediately, and then her tongue is inside you, and her fingers are on your clit, and your entire body is on fire. She sucks on your clit, and then makes headway further down, sliding her tongue inside you. You can't stop the moans that escape from your mouth, and you're certain the whole complex can hear, but you don't care.

Suddenly, she stops, and looks up at you. Your eyes snap open, annoyed by the interruption until you observe the way he's smiling, her chin slick with your wetness.s

"I wanna try something," she begins, and she sits up, scanning the room. "Where's that thing you got the other day?"

You bite back a moan. "Nightstand drawer."

She opens it, and takes out a small, pink object. Your face flushes as she turns it on, the vibrations audible in the otherwise quiet room.

"Is this okay?" she asks, and you nod, eager.

"Yes," you answer, and her mouth returns to your center.

She teases your entrance with the object, and the combination of her tongue and the vibrator has you squirming, your hands finding their way to her head, holding her in place.

"Oh god," you whimper, and the pleasure is indescribable.

Her tongue picks up speed, and then the vibrator enters you, and you nearly scream.

She pushes the toy in and out, and as it vibrates against your clit, and begin to feel like you can't take anymore. Your back arches, and a wave of euphoria washes over you as your orgasm hits, and the only thing you can see is the light from the lamp and the white of the ceiling.

When you regain control of your senses, you can feel her body lying on top of yours, her head on your chest. You lay in silence, trying to catch your breath, and it isn't until you hear her voice that you speak.

"How are you doing?"

"Sleepy," you mumble, and she smiles, pecking you on the lips.

"Then let's go to sleep."

You can only nod as your eyes slowly close and your mind becomes hazy. Before you drift off completely, you think to yourself that this might've been the best night you've had since moving here.

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Two weeks later, you and Bada are going up the elevator to your respective apartments after a walk from your job. You'd just spent the past hour gossiping in between taking customer's orders. Apparently, Mijoo and Naeun are going out. Figures. You hoped it worked out for them, but nobody was beating the blissful few weeks you've.

The two of you are holding hands, and your free one is holding a box containing a dozen chocolate chip cookies, made especially for Bada.

"I'm thinking of moving out," she suddenly states, and the statement catches you off guard.

"What? Why?" you ask, and she shrugs.

"It's about time. I can afford a better place, and I'm ready to move on from the apartment life. I need a house."

"I can understand that," you reply, nodding.

"You should move in with me," she continues, and the statement makes you laugh.

"What? Are you crazy? We just got together."

"Who cares? I want to live with you. Don't you want to live with me?" she responds, pouting, and she gives you puppy dog eyes.

"Yes, but...," you pause, and you can tell from the expression on her face that she's serious.

"But what? What's the problem?"

"Nothing. Let's do it."

"Really?"

"Yes, really," you confirm, and she beams, leaning in to kiss you.

You can't believe what you just agreed to. But, in a way, you're relieved. Maybe this will finally bring a sense of finality to everything that's happened.

"Damn, guess I'm gonna have to tell Jennifer about us. She's coming out here soon," you mutter, opening your email app. You go to type in your friend's email, but your eyes land on an unread email in your inbox, sent two weeks ago. It's from an unknown sender, and the subject is 'Regarding Your Application.'

Your eyes widen, and Bada nosily peers over your shoulder, reading the words.

"What's that?" she asks, and you gulp.

"I don't know."

"Open it!" she exclaims, and you do.

Y/N,

This is Kim Sung Soo, the owner of the property you inquired about. I was out of town for business and unable to contact you regarding your application. I've looked through the papers, and everything seems to be in order. I'd like to meet up with you so we can further discuss the terms of the lease before we finalize anything. When are you available?

"Oh my god," Bada gasps, and she stares at you, wide-eyed.

"What the hell?" you whisper, and Bada squeals.

"Oh, y/n! This is so exciting! Congratulations! I knew it would work out. Now, you can start your bakery, and we can move in together, and oh, my god, I'm so happy!"

"I'm confused," you mutter barely believing your luck, and the elevator dings, indicating that the two of you have arrived.

"Don't worry about it, okay? Come on, let's go have some cookies," she says, tugging on your arm.

You nod, following her down the hall without a hint of resistance. As you watch the woman drag you with a giant smile on her face, you cannot help but giggle. Who knew you'd find home and happiness in such an unlikely place?

#bada lee #bada lee fanfic #bada lee imagine #bada lee fluff #bada lee x reader #bada lee x y/n #street woman fighter 2 #swf2

[jrueships]

sixers are we srsly gonna do all this just so we can get knocked out the second round for repetition's sake .

#yall rlly stretching this out and for what #to die more tired? #yall are so annoyin 😑 #yall <- maxey excluded #he might automatically try and align himself with it since hes a texas child tried and true but this has no #business with him #my quarrel is tyrese maxey exclusive !!! #ALWAYS !!!! #unless he does smthing bad to his hair then i might have to take a trip down to tyrese lane

[thwackk]

mourning josh keaton as hal. im telling you guys it’s the best i think abt him every single day

#smh. i just want him back 💔 #his characterization in this show isnt the most accurate but it’s too enjoyable to not love #i love this version of hal he’s rlly just there and these things are happening to him and he makes the best of it #cry abt it later kind of guy #also the dad instincts kicking in probably had a lot to do with they way he acts in this show #i just think abt him alot. #literally my only complaint is the 3d models yall what #they look like the stretchy sticky hands like i could just grab their arms and stretch them out #my mind latched onto the found family themes like a lamprey

[rockstvrdotcom]

“mi vida”

!! // js imagine miguel being the sweetest during sex.. like ik yall love lil rough dom miguel but broooo miguel whispering sweet nothings in spanish into your ear while he fucks u silly nd u can barely understand him... HELLOOO?? rhis ones kinda short sry guys

tw/cw: miguel being a sweetie pie, nsfw, fem reader

“nunca habia sentido algo asi.. sin ti no puedo vivir, mi corazon.” he murmured into your ear, his hands groping ever part of your body as he pounded in and out of you; leaving no part of your body untouched. you could barely understand the words leaving his mouth, your mind in a haze of pleasure as he fucked you dumb.

you had just had your- god knows what number, orgasm of the night, and he still hadn’t came yet. your pussy was puffy and swollen, your hole aching and your slick leaking out of it. “mm, ‘love you s’much, miguel..” you said inbetween silent moans and pants, clenching around him.

“i love you too.” he replied, and although your back was facing him you could hear the smile in his voice. you felt him twitch inside of you, you were almost relieved. you didn’t know if you could take anymore.

“eres perfecta, mi reina. eres una estrella que se cayo de cielo.” he spoke softly, as if his voice could break you. you were so fragile to him, like you would break and disappear under his touch. 

you felt him throb and twitch inside of you for the second time. you moaned loudly as his pace picked up, his fat cock stretching out your gummy walls. you muttered a string of curses as you felt miguel come inside of you. the feeling of his warm load was enough to push you over the edge, your vision going blurry with tears of pleasure flowing out of your eyes.

he rode out his high, thrusting in and out of you a few more times and painting your insides with his spend. you whimpered, taking miguels hand and holding it tightly.

he moved carefully, laying down beside you on the bed. his cock was still inside of you, and his hand was still intertwined with yours. his other hand patted your head, then stroking your head. you snuggled up into him under his touch. “sin ti mi vida no tiene sentido, tu y yo contra el mundo, mi querida.” he muttered against your neck, eyes half lidded.

-

a/n: to the person who literally j made me realize that i was not rlly inclusive of all skin colors tysm for telling me </33 IM SO SORRY YALL IDEK WHY I WROTE THAT IM NOTEVEN WHITE 🙁🙁 im so sorry guys what the f 🥹

my cat was literally ontop of my arms as i wrote this and he would not get off. 

i need to gts

#miguel o'hara smut #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #smut #miguel smut #astv #astv miguel #miguel o'hara x reader smut

[python333]

HAI! i rlly like your platonic 141 fics and I'm wondering if we could get some more dad price and/or brother gaz sleepy cuddles? :3

stretched too thin — python333

— — — —

synopsis gaz notices you overworking yourself one night and decides to step in before you end up pulling an all-nighter.

relationships platonic!gaz & gn!reader.

characters gaz.

word count 2.05k

warnings 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of pet names [love, darling], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].

note oh my god im so sorry i disappeared for like. a month. ill try my best to not be gone for more than a week at a time, but with all of my schoolwork and just over all stress ive been experiencing lately, i dont know if ill be able to get fics out every week :< ill try my best though! please accept this fic as an apology—its another big bro gaz one!! special shoutout to everyone else who has an older sibling thats very distant with them, you and me are in the same boat fr!! also, last thing—im thinking about making a discord server where i announce when fics are being written and published and stuff, but i dunno if yall would join or anything, so if u would pls lmk!!

You haven’t left your office in five hours. 

Recently—just about two days ago—you finished up an assignment fairly quickly and, as a result, had to write a detailed report of said assignment. It went over the mission you’d gone on, and listed off every major detail you could think of, though because you just can’t give yourself a break you were constantly thinking of other details you might’ve missed even though there was little chance you’d missed anything.

The mission wasn’t anything too important, honestly. It was originally going to be a week-long camp-out reconnaissance by an enemy task force’s base, obtaining information on their schedule and what they did throughout the day and whatnot. However, only a day into the mission, the small squad of soldiers that had accompanied you saw another small military group observing the same group you’d been observing.

So, naturally, you observed them as well. Aren’t you just the best multi-tasker?

The task force eventually found out about the other group, just a day later, while your squad was still in the clear to continue your observations. So, your mission had quickly come to a close—but, because of the circumstances under which the mission had come to a close, you were required to write an extremely detailed report on the other group and the group you’d been observing.

It would be an understatement to say you were tired. You’re exhausted.

Between the non-stop writing, the coffee sitting on your desk that’s been microwaved five times and has been refilled thrice, and the uncomfortable chair you’ve sat in that you have yet to replace, you’re extremely exhausted. Your movements are sluggish, your fingers aren’t as swift on the keyboard of your computer as they usually are, and worst of all—you still have more to write. 

Your eyes stung and felt dry, your hands felt like they were going to stop working completely at any moment, and you were overall just exhausted. 

You look over at the clock on your desk, and it reads 02:28 AM, indicating that you would only have about four hours to sleep if you went to bed now. I’m too far into this report to stop now, You tell yourself, sighing as you blink slowly at your computer screen, If only my vision didn’t keep getting blurry… 

Suddenly, you hear a knock at the door. Your eyebrows furrow together in confusion, and for a second you think you’re hallucinating until the knock sounds once more. 

Reluctantly, with a voice raspy from not using it almost all day, you call out, “Come in!” 

Your voice is softer and quieter than you’d like it to be, but it doesn’t matter too much to you at this moment—at least, not in your foggy mind that still begs you for sleep, even when you have far more of your report to finish. 

The door opens with a creak, and in walks Gaz. 

“Sarg,” He greets you, not bothering to close the door behind him as he walks up to your desk, “Pleasure to see you for the first time in, what… three days?” 

“Two days and eighteen hours,” You correct him, taking a moment to crack your stiff knuckles, not taking your eyes off of your monitor, “And you know you don’t have to call me ‘sarg’ or ‘sergeant’ or anything. We’re the same rank.” 

Gaz promptly ignores you, “Right, well, anything over a day is way too long for me to go without seeing you. Why’re you all cooped up in here on your computer?”

“‘Cause I need to write a report on my assignment,” You briefly explain, before lightly goading Gaz, “Not all of us need a shit ton of attention every day like you do.” 

“Ehh,” Gaz theatrically makes a thinking face, before shrugging, “Not sure what you mean by ‘us’, but alright.” 

“By ‘us’, I mean everyone but you.” 

“Surely that doesn’t include you, right?” 

“It does.” 

Gaz gasps quietly at your reply, before dramatically responding, “Oh, you can’t be serious.”

“I absolutely can,” You hum, finally taking your eyes off of your computer screen to look up at Gaz, “Is it so hard for you to believe that I don’t need to talk to you every waking hour?” 

“It is, actually,” Gaz scoffs, “Because I know that you do need to talk to me every waking hour.” 

“Uh, no I don’t,” You childishly argue, raising an eyebrow at Gaz.

“Uh, yes you do,” Gaz immaturely argues back, crossing his arms, “Look me in the eyes and tell me that the past two days and eighteen hours haven’t been shit because I haven’t given you any attention.”

You open your mouth to form a response but quickly close it, realizing that yeah, actually, I kind of do crave his attention. 

Fuck.

“You’re not the only person that gives me attention,” You point out, hoping to find some way to change the subject.

“Sure, but you like the attention I give you the most,” Gaz hums, leaning forward to rest his crossed arms on your desk opposite of where you sit.

“You don’t know that.”

“Then tell me that I’m wrong,” Gaz challenges you.

You narrow your eyes at him, glaring at him for a moment before sighing, “You suck.”

“Maybe I suck, but you look like you haven’t slept for the past week,” Gaz points out, “You look exhausted, by the way. And dehydrated. Actually, you just look like the human embodiment of a headache.” 

“What the fuck?” 

“I mean that in the most loving, non-offensive way possible.”

“You come into my office, accuse me of needing attention from you, then you insult me by calling me the human version of a headache?”

“It wasn’t an insult!” Gaz raises his hands in surrender, before sighing, “I’m being serious. You look dead, [c/n]. You need sleep.” 

“What I need is to finish this report,” You huff out, beginning to turn your attention back to your computer, before Gaz’s hand is quickly placed on your chin and forces you to look back at him. 

“No, what you need is some rest,” Gaz argues, more serious this time, taking his hand off of your chin—something you shouldn’t miss nearly as much as you do, the warmth of his hand fading far too quickly from your face—and bringing it back to rest on the desk. 

“Maybe you need rest, Gaz.”

“Sure I do,” He shrugs, “But I’m only going to sleep if you do.” 

You raise an eyebrow at him, “Really? You’re pulling that card?”

“I am.” 

You stare at him for a moment, mentally weighing your options, before sighing and bringing your elbows up to the table so that you can place your forehead in your hands.

On one hand, if you stay in your office you can finish up your report before four and then go to sleep, and hope that you magically feel active even with just an hour or two of sleep in the morning. On the other hand, if you go to sleep now, so does Gaz, and then you both get more than just two hours of sleep. 

After another moment of consideration, you huff out a frustrated breath and mutter, “Fine.” 

Gaz smiles down at you and walks around your desk to your side of it, holding out a hand for you to grab to help yourself up from your chair and using his free hand to save your report and power off your monitor. 

You take his hand and stand up, your legs a little weak and balance iffy from sitting down for so long, but within the next few minutes you’re sure you’ll be able to properly walk. You let go of his hand once you’re positive you won’t fall over, and once he sees that you’re able to walk, Gaz silently walks towards the door of your office. Just as quietly, you follow him. 

He turns off the lights for you and lets you walk out of the office first, locking the door from the inside and closing it once you’re out. Once he’s done, he takes the lead again and you follow him down to his sleeping quarters. It’s not too long of a walk there, only two minutes at most.

Once you’re there, Gaz opens the door and lets you walk in first. Once you’re inside and Gaz has closed the door, you shrug off your camouflage patterned jacket and toe off your already loosened tan boots, leaving you in just your camouflage cargo pants and army green undershirt.

You look down at your pants with a frown, knowing from experience that sleeping in them was incredibly uncomfortable and left you regretting your whole existence the morning after, but before you could even look over at Gaz to tell him of your situation, you felt something being thrown at you. 

You immediately turn your attention to the item that had been hurled at you—the item in question being a pair of gray sweatpants, some that would probably be a little bit looser than you’d prefer on your figure—and then look over at Gaz with a questioning look. 

“Figured you wouldn’t wanna sleep in that,” Gaz shrugs, nodding to your cargo pants in response to your nonverbal confusion. 

You hum in appreciation, not wanting to talk too much at the moment, instead waiting for Gaz to look away before slipping off your pants and replacing them with the sweatpants Gaz had thrown at you. The fit isn’t as uncomfortable as you thought they’d be—they’re loose and hang low on your hips, just like you thought they would, of course, but they don’t feel nearly as weird as you thought they would.

Once you’ve tightened the strings on the waist of the pants, you get into Gaz’s bed, pulling the covers up and over yourself. Gaz quickly settles into the bed next to you, quickly getting himself comfortable under the sheets, and pulling the covers up and over his shoulders in one swift movement.

He gets closer to you, so close that his chest presses against your back and you can feel the tip of his nose ghosting over the top of your head. He wraps one arm over your body to pull you impossibly closer to him, and his other arm snakes underneath the side of your body so that both of his arms are wrapped around you.

He hums contently and his thumb rubs small circles into your clothed stomach, the action—despite being small—causing your stomach to warm up almost immediately. 

“Comfortable, darling?” Gaz asks quietly, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. 

“Very,” You mumble back, trying to subtly lean your head back against Gaz in hopes of getting at least one more kiss. Noticing your efforts, he huffs out a small laugh and presses another gentle kiss right at the edge of your hairline before pressing one last one to your forehead. 

Even with the comforting atmosphere, you can’t find it within yourself to fully relax, your body still tense and stiff underneath the blanket. Gaz, just like he did with your “subtle” movements, notices and frowns. 

“Just sleep,” Gaz tiredly mumbles into the top of your head, “You have to get up in three hours. The sooner you sleep, the more sleep you get.” 

You don’t respond, instead simply sighing and forcing your eyes closed. You do have to admit, it’s nice being able to actually close your eyes for something other than blinking, and closing your eyes for longer than half a second has made you realize that they were even drier than you thought they were. 

Exhausted and ready to finally sleep, you eventually get to a point where you no longer need to force your eyes shut, and as a result, your whole body relaxes for the first time in almost six hours. 

“G’night, love,” Gaz murmurs, feeling your body relax next to his. You hum in acknowledgment of his words, not finding the energy within yourself to properly respond, instead finding yourself drifting off into a deep sleep. 

And if four hours later, Gaz wakes up and simply lies there, not waking you and instead letting you get some more sleep despite you having to be up soon, nobody has to know.

#cod #cod hcs #hcs #task force 141 #tf141 #platonic task force 141 #platonic taskforce141 #platonic kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #gaz #kyle gaz garrick x reader #cod mw2 #call of duty mw2 #call of duty #this is why i like the ao3 tagging system more #bro tumblr tags make no sense to me #trying my best tho!! #check me out on ao3 btw #pythonxyz :3 #python333

[queenie-blackthorn]

100% done w kotlc book one, here are my summarized thoughts (you can read my thoughts as i progressed through the book, heres my thoughts from when i hit the 25% mark, the 50% mark, and the 75% mark)

okay, woooowwwww. that ending was so chaotic, i barely understood a thing. prolly the only thing i dont like abt this book. i might need to reread to like properly soak in everything that happened

onto notes, my guess abt biana was right ??? woah okay. i wonder about alvar tho, it wasnt confirmed here that hes w the black swam but it wasnt denied either. we still dont know who snuck the notes into her locker, n ill believe that its alvar until proven otherwise

i think its fairly obvious in retrospect that mr forkle was some kinda elf, the way he reacted to the jogger was wayy too protective. rlly smooth foreshadowing there, miss messenger

i had also guessed that sophies powers stretch a lot further than she thinks, which is basically very heavily hinted at by aldin. since i made that guess we discovered shes a polyglot and an inflictor, which is mind boggling considering those were both in the span of like fifty pages max. i wonder what else we're gonna get in terms of sophies powers

also, is it weird that i laughed at the idea of bronte teaching sophie? shes been complaining abt her alchemy mentor but now its gonna be bronte. hes gonna make her life living hell, n i promise i feel for her but dear god is it gonna be funny. either that or ill daydream abt boiling him alive

its also fairly obvious by now that the series is gonna have a romantic subplot with a love triangle between keefe n sophie n fitz. i mean, fitz n keefe are best friends n she found both of them cute on sight, it was obvious from the beginning, but the "i like you more as a friend than a sister" thing that fitz said at the end (or smth to that effect) basically guaranteed it. since i obv have moots who post abt kotlc, i already know who its gonna be, but lets pretend i dont for the time being

also, perhaps i judged fitz too harshly upon first meeting him 👉🏼👈🏼

im still fairly suspicious abt the allergy n (as i mentioned) alvar, but also i wonder abt keefes dad. theres more to him, i just know it. maybe in book two ill find out more

also can i just say, im terrified for the next one. its literally called 'exile'. WHAT HAPPENS TO SOPHIE PLEA-

thats all i can think of rn, time to go read the next one !! also yall lmk if you want me to post my thoughts abt book two as i progress, like i did w this one (imma start it as soon as i post this), n also lmk if you wanna be tagged in said posts about my thoughts

@aylin-hijabi @that-multi-fandom-hijabi @tastetherainbow290

#kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #kotlc thoughts #first time read #kotlc sophie #sophie kotlc #sophie foster #biana amberly vacker #biana vacker #biana kotlc #kotlc biana #alvar vacker #alvar kotlc #kotlc alvar #mr forkle #bronte kotlc #kotlc bronte #councillor bronte #kotlc keefe #keefe kotlc #keefe sencen

[sai-lec]

hi i’m salty i like fashion so i want to talk about the ferrari suit painting endeavour courtesy of @ joshuavides ig story

it’s not gonna be detailed or anything just a general overview but alr let’s get started

so i rlly love the idea of letting the guys design their own race suits they took two rather opposing approaches to the design of their suits providing an insight to their perspective on their personal aestheticism, branding and mandated media activity

so let’s start w Carlos . For someone who isn’t actively involved in fashion design or marketing this is impressive . like it sent me down a rabbit hole of trying to figure out carlos’ involvement in his merch design process but dead ends if anyone has anything on that lmk .

carlos’ design is centred on his branding it’s something he would wear during a race to represent not only himself personally through the chilli motif but his career and his achievement as CS55 .

the placement of the logo is phenomenal . ik it’s just a copy of the diagonal placement of all his merch but this could’ve easily been something that stretched simply across the bodice portion. carlos’ design made good use of the space whilst keeping the design simple and recognisable not to mention how challenging it is to maintain freehand lines across separations in the fabric like

i’ve tried my best to apply some guidelines on top of the suit (with a grain of salt- photo perspective and wearability will change line placements) but the precision particularly is super impressive considering i don’t believe he’s painted on fabric before and is doing so without any straight line edge for guidance .

although it’s just a result of no practise the messiness of the painting works with the design it’s refined enough to be recognisable but the imperfection brings through a sense of modern high fashion reminiscent of the haute mess situation in 2022 or mimicking the street art aesthetic not unlike the imperfect perfection of vivienne Westwood . it’s just a good well executed garment i think encapsulating who he is a driver

charles on the other hand is a lot more emotionally driven. the front of the garment seems to be more inclined to imagery that is personal to charles

the spelling of his name separates him from CL16 he’s charles, it’s more personal closer to who he is rather than his brand with his number included to allude to the importance of racing in his life - and also to keep it relevant to the task at hand which was centred around ferrari.

i’ve been seeing a lot of criticism of on this striped section of charles suit but yall just don’t get it . this is his country man . this is his way or representing his country his identity as a monegasque person is dear to him this is his national pride manifested on his uniform . the front is what charles wants people to perceive of him what he fundamentally wants to represent and who he is in his career

as for the back

this is art . it absolutely is . it’s entirely up to the viewers discretion what that art is. the art could be the wearer. it couldn’t be the sport . the race. it could be none of that and just be a funny attempt at trying to justify the decision on the front of the garment . or as the strategic placement would suggest, it could be his ass that’s the art.

i do love this though it’s giving rich its giving runway . it’s giving designer . i’m telling you keep an eye on louis vuitton and vivienne westwood this kind of mildly thought provoking vaguely political commentary handwritten aesthetic dominates modern ready to wear high end fashion. this is the kind of thing you’d see an instgram model take some gorgeous aesthetically pleasing photos in before it ends up in someone’s rebellious girl aesthetic pinterest board . and it’s a serve .

generally i do really love the idea behind this whole task tho it’s fun and expressive and i love the callback to the marlboro day with the red and white suit aesthetic of the 80s and the last vegas grand prix at the caesar’s palace track in 1982 it’s truly iconic and i hope we get to see the boys in their creations

#charles leclerc #carlos sainz #formula 1 #scuderia ferrari

[moodbroads]

BACK IN MY WOLFQUEST PHASE ONCE AGAIN!!! MEET ROSEMARY :3

also heres some goofy ah photos of my mate being scared of his own pups-

ANYWAYS IM SO EXITED FOR HELLROARING MOUNTAIN!!! i wonder if theres gonna be a new achivement for like interacting or killing a wolverine since i think they said its gonna be rare or smthin! i already know theres prob gonna be new cool collectibles so im exited about that- OOH WHAT IF THEY ADD A WOLVERINE SKULL

would be nice to also have a den in an abandoned human camp ehehe tbh my dream wolfquest update would be if you could raid like a rabbit warren or maybe get revenge on stranger wolf dens so there could actually be war n stuff >:D MAYBE IF YOU FIND A NON-ABANDONED FOX DEN IN WINTER U CAN MAKE IT UR OWN BY DEFEATING THEM >:D

it would also be so epic to have mutations like having a piebald pup!! aionguedbhklwsuv i have SOOO MANY IDEAS like a 'rp mode' in multiplayer servers where ur able to play as a puppy or special rp-only emotes like stretching, shaking or play fighting/roughhousing! and maybe even splitting players into diff packs (maybe being able to attack the other players- if in a diff pack XD)

BUT YEE ANYWAYS BACK TO RAISE MY PUPS-6 MORE POUDS TO GO (to 15) AFTER THE DEN FLOODED T_T (edit cuz im too lazy to make another post)

I FORGOT HOW DRAMATIC WOLFQUEST CAN BE LIKE SKIPPER JUST GOT YOINKED BY A COUGAR AND THEN 5 MINS LATER THE ALPHA FEM OF THE MOLLIES CAME

also yaya its spring i can finally bring food cuz the only beavers are like a million miles away :')

OH AND I SAW AN EAGLE PERCH FOR THE FIRST TIME ON LAMAR PEAK AND IT WAS SO PRETTY-

PLZ GROW SKIPPER PLZPLZZPLZZAAA IM ON MY WOLF KNEES AND HOWLING WHY DID U HAVE TO DO THIS UR BROTHER IS 16.9-

anyways yeah i saved and left after that to take a break-hope to update yall once again soon XD

i have returned once again i couldnt resist >:)

WE GOT TO THE REN SITE FINALLY!! :D the personalities of em are rlly starting to come out sooo...

introducing...creek the napper/antisocial, ember the explorer/rebel, and skipper the energetic/extremely lucky XD

i got revenge on the cougar that snatched skipper /j

BONE PARTY!! (yeah thats creek sleeping once again ;-;)

fun fact i found out durin this playthrough: the plane will visit your mate if they have a radiocollar on and you dont! even if your far from the den and theyre still at it! i saw it a few times and it was pretty cool but very hard to get good shots of :')

AGRHJ MORE DRAMA- dang calfree creek moved in super close to my home hex while skipper got sick- ;-;

once again skipper being 1 tiny pound away BUT AYYE SHE GOT HEALTHY AGAIN LIKE 2 NIGHTS LATER SO YAYA

also me findin the barbie bag and lance being scared of it for some reason (AgAinSt GuRLiEpOpS?!?1/1/!?)

underappreciated local redhead XD

i finished and creek got air jailed by lance for tryna be active T_T

I KNEW SHE WAS A RUNT >:(

ANYWAYS HERE THEYRE ADULT FORMS!! ember got a cool tinted buffy which was my first npc coat!! (XD aint suprised tho cuz lance was stormy) and creek looks like he ate face-first into a bag of flaming hot cheetos

ANYWAYS YAYAAA I HAD A FUN TIME!! i might continue this bloodline too..someday >:)

#goofy goof #wolfquest #wolf quest #roer am welf im such a killer and alpha moon loner (i basically only kill to survive and we all rely on family/eachother lolol) #where did the wolf steryotype even come from #werewolves maybe cuz man wolf???? #lance please bond with your pups they were in your balls once #SKIPPER HAD 4 HEALTH AFTER THE SNATCH I WAS SO WORRIED- #bro why is skipper so unlucky but also lucky #creek is a potato in wolf form prove me wrong

[mysunnylemonade]

insecurities | lee jeno

↳ pairing: lee jeno (nct) x fem!reader

↳ genre: slight angst, mostly fluff & suggestive but only if u squint rlly hard

↳ word count: 1482

↳ warning: reader being insecure about her looks i guess?? (love urself ppl yall beautiful <3)

song recommendation: met a girl by tarune

♡

Hate was a strong word, but you felt it was appropriate to say that you absolutely hated nights like the one you were having on this particular day. Standing half-naked in front of the full-body mirror situated in the corner of your shared bedroom, your eyes swept over your body once more. You despised the way your gaze lingered on the stretch marks that tainted your skin.

Wallowing in self-pity and stressing over your physical flaws wasn't exactly a standard routine for you, especially when Jeno was around. But your boyfriend wouldn't be back until late at night, having texted you he had something to do that would require him to stay at the studio longer than usual.

You turned to the side, pressing your palm over your stomach, rubbing up and down as if it would magically flatten your abdomen. Nothing happened, of course, leaving you feeling sick and fed up with the thoughts you were having.

You wiped the tears accumulating in your eyes, not allowing it to trickle down your cheeks. You could see your boyfriend's face in your mind and briefly wondered whether you were truly good enough for him. You didn't blame your insecurities on him, never. Your boyfriend was nothing but loving, and he showered you with gifts just as much as he showered you with loving words, but there were times when it was remarkably hard to believe his kind words.

You wished you could miraculously switch off your mind and climb out of this self-loathing pit you had willingly put yourself into. It was your fault, you would admit that. If you hadn't decided to strip into your underwear and scrutinise yourself in the mirror then maybe you would've been in the dining room enjoying the dinner you had made by now.

As you were stepping closer to the mirror to get a better lock at your face, you heard the turning of a key in a lock before the front door was pushed open. The realisation that Jeno had come home much earlier than you expected kept you paralysed on the spot. It wasn't until you heard the front door shutting that you were finally able to move, hastily wiping the tears from your reddened eyes and shrugging on the robe you had carelessly tossed onto the bed.

You heard him call for your name but you didn't respond, scurrying into the bathroom to wash your face in hopes of being able to get rid of any evidence that you had been crying. Jeno couldn't know. You weren't going to drag him into your mess.

You cursed to yourself as you studied your reflection in the bathroom mirror. Your cheeks and nose were flushed, and your eyes were unmistakably bloodshot. There was no way Jeno wouldn't notice.

"Baby, you in here?" Jeno called out from the entrance of the bedroom. You heard shuffling as he took off his jacket. When he spoke again, his voice was dangerously close to the bathroom, and you immediately faked a smile. "Hey, why haven't you eaten dinner yet? Were you waiting for me?"

Turning your head, you were met with your boyfriend's figure standing in the bathroom doorway. It tugged your heart to see him look so beautiful, even after a whole day of working. You just couldn't understand why he had chosen you. Why hadn't he picked someone with less baggage and imperfections?

You watched as his small smile transformed into a frown. Without any hesitation, he stepped forward to grab your hand. "Hey, have you been crying? What's wrong?"

You forced a quiet chuckle. "I was watching this new romance movie that just released." You watched his face closely, swallowing when you saw that his worried expression hadn't dissipated at all. "Have you eaten dinner yet? Go shower and come eat dinner with me."

You squeezed his hand assuringly once more before walking past him to give him some privacy in the bathroom. "Were you really just watching a movie? You look like you've been crying for hours."

You plopped onto the bed with a huff and looked up to see Jeno had walked out of the bathroom and was slowly approaching your sitting form. "Babe, we've been dating long enough for you to know I'm sensitive when it comes to tragic endings."

He stood in front of you, cupping your cheeks in his hand to tilt your head up. "Yeah, and I also know my girlfriend enough to know whenever she's lying."

You managed to smile and shake your head as he pressed his thumbs to caress the irritated skin underneath your puffy eyes. "Jeno, I'm okay."

Leaning down, he pressed his forehead against yours, causing your noses to brush. The both of you stayed like that for a few more seconds, and you welcomed the distraction. You wanted to forget the cause of your previous breakdown and Jeno's presence was helping tremendously.

Feeling the gentle brush of his lips against yours, you gasped, hands flying to grasp his arms. "Jeno," you breathed, pulling away slightly to look into his eyes. They were dark, wild, so lovely.

"Tell me," he muttered softly.

Unable to look into his eyes as you confessed, you looked down at your lap. "I'm sorry," you began. "It's just so stupid. You're the best boyfriend there is, you treat me so well, and you're just so beautiful, Jeno, and I don't know how to... compete with that."

Once again, he forced your head up so he could look into his eyes. "Baby, we're not competing for anything. What are you trying to say?"

"I just can't understand why you're still with me. I'm so flawed, and you can settle for someone who's so much more good looking, someone who can give you so much more than I can."

Jeno's face remained expressionless as he gazed down at you, but you could tell the gears in his head were all turning. His silence worried you so you shifted in your seat awkwardly.

He seemed to notice your slight movement and finally snapped out of his train of thoughts. "Wait, you're not messing with me, right?"

Groaning, you tried to stand up, but he held your waist before you could walk away. "Okay, I know it's stupid. Can we just forget about it? Please?"

His eyes widened and he pulled you closer to him until there was no space left in between the two of you. "No, no, this is far from stupid. If you feel this way, it means I haven't done a good job at being your boyfriend. I'm supposed to be making you feel loved, but—"

"No! You've been a perfect boyfriend, you're perfect. It's not your fault, seriously, it's mine."

"If this is about the way you look, then I'll have to disagree and say that it's not your fault. Everything you consider imperfections or flaws, they're a part of you, and I fell in love with that a long time ago, and I'm not falling out of love anytime soon."

"I'm sorry for being so insecure. I just... I feel like you deserve better."

His lips broke out into a soft yet wistful smile. "You're not in any position to tell me what I deserve and don't baby," he mumbled lightheartedly. "Being with you was a choice that I made, loving you is something that I choose to do until now. All these choices that I made are all choices that I made deliberately, not because I'm forced to."

Unable to say anything else, your tears began to blur your visions once again, but this time it was because you were thankful. You felt so blessed that out of all of the people in the world, you ended up with Lee Jeno—a boy whose smile shone as bright as the sun and whose heart was beautiful and kind. "I love you so much," you managed to splutter out.

Sensing the oncoming tears, Jeno bent his knees a little so that he was eye-level with you. "Hey, don't cry, I love you too," he spoke, his smile now reaching his eyes, turning them into the little crescent moon that you adored so much. "You make me happy, and that's more than enough for me. Is that enough for you?"

You nodded. "All I ever want is for you to be happy, Jeno."

He visibly relaxed at this, and gone was the solemn atmosphere that once lingered in the air. "That's settled then. You're not getting rid of me that easily because you want me happy and I'm the happiest when I'm with you. So, will you lie down on the bed for me now?"

Tilting your head, you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. "Why?"

"I still need to show you how beautiful you are to me and I don't think words are gonna cut it."

"Lee Jeno!"

♡

#lee jeno #jeno lee #jeno x reader #jeno #jeno imagines #jeno fluff #jeno smut #jeno angst #na jaemin #jaemin #park jisung #haechan #lee haechan #lee donghyuck #mark lee #huang renjun #renjun #zhong chenle #chenle #nct #nct dream #nct imagines #dreamies #stream hot sauce

[ahkaahshi]

exploration [sakusa kiyoomi x reader]

pairing: sakusa kiyoomi x fem reader

genre: smut (18+)

warning(s): explicit sexual content, penetrative sex, light degradation, dirty talk, mean-ish?? then nice dom sakusa, rough sex, orgasm denial, being stimulated in public, swearing

word count: 2.9k

overview: you wanna try new things. some of them work and some of them don’t, but it’s all a learning experience.

notes: yall my heart just went 🥺 soft sakusa 🥺 yet again (I'm rlly weak for him obviously I have no issue admitting it) but I wanted to give him a lil edge too ya feel? I rlly banged this out with my last two braincells so I hope you enjoy :)

As you wander around the large, open space in the elegant, modern art museum, heels clicking against the cold, concrete floor, your (e/c) eyes drift from one painting to the next. The steady, gentle rhythm of some, ethereal lounge music echoes around the room just under the hum of conversations taking place nearby. Though they’re speaking of things mostly foreign to you, since they’re members of a much higher society than that in which you live, you can’t help but find yourself somewhat entertained by the gossip you hear circulating amongst the women as they chat over a few too many cocktails.

Spending the evening perusing expensive artwork in such a luxurious venue, wearing a dress you hope looks fancy enough while you rub shoulders with the elite is definitely not a normal occasion in your day to day life. However, with your boyfriend’s constantly climbing popularity as a professional athlete, his name was starting to show up on more of the guest lists to exclusive events such as this exclusive art showcase you find yourself at now. While it’s interesting--to an extent--you do find yourself growing bored from time to time. Earlier, your beloved’s teammates had been around to entertain you, but they’d since left to help themselves to the open bar.

Not even moments after you let out a soft sigh and readjust the strap of your dress on your shoulder, you feel a familiar vibration emanate from deep inside of you. The intensity and location of the sensation make one hand fly to your mouth to stifle a small squeal that escapes your throat while the other grips the chiffon of your dress’s skirt. Turning away from the few gazes that have fastened on you at your reaction to what seems like absolutely nothing, you look through the doorway into the next room to see your boyfriend watching you with rapt attention.

His hand is buried in the pocket of his sleek, black trousers, thumb resting atop the button of the remote he’s using to make the vibrator nestled inside of you jump to life. With the way he’s been using your desire to do more exploration in terms of kinks and sexual fantasies to keep you on the brink of an orgasm all night long, you’re starting to regret suggesting the idea of a bullet vibrator earlier today. By this point, your panties are uncomfortably wet and you’re on the verge of getting on your knees in front of the event’s other patrons and begging him to fuck you.

You’ve been holding yourself together the entire evening, even keeping your drink from spilling when he decided to turn it on right as the bartender handed it off to you, but you’ve had enough now. You figure you’ve been good enough for him to reward you, since you haven’t complained once or let on to the dirty game the two of you were playing to see who caved first and asked to go home. You don’t mind letting him win this round, since you know you’ll get what you want either way.

As nonchalantly as you can when your core is abuzz with stimulation and your stomach is clenching from the sensation, you make quick strides across the room to where he’s standing. He seems to sense what you’re about to ask him, so he turns off the vibrator and places his hand on the small of your back when you arrive at his side.

“Kiyoomi,” you whine softly, running your fingertips along the soft material of his crisp, button-up shirt he’s wearing beneath a suit jacket.

He raises a dark eyebrow at you and hums questioningly in response, waiting for you to admit defeat.

As much as you don’t want to say it, in this case, you’ll have to put your pride aside to get what you want. Reminding yourself that you’ll find a way to have your fun with him in return at a later point in time gives you some comfort as you move your head closer to his ear.

“Can we go home, baby?” you ask in a demure tone.

“Hmm? Why would you want to do that, (f/n)?” he wonders, his hand remaining annoyingly still where it rests against the back of your dress.

You refrain from letting out a sound of disapproval at his coy attitude, since you know anything you say can and will be held against you in the bedroom in this game you’re playing. Instead, you whisper, “So you can take this tiny, little thing out of me and stuff me with your big cock instead.”

That does it. His fingers grip your waist on their way to meet yours so he can interlace them and lead you back to the entrance of the museum. His teammates urge him to stay and have a few drinks with them, but he’s quick to wave them off and make a hasty exit.

When Bokuto tries to follow the two of you to persuade you to stay, Atsumu grabs his arm and puts his attempt to a halt by hissing, “The man's on a mission ta get fucked, dude. Let ‘im go.”

To that, the tall, white and black-haired man whistles lowly, nods, and heads back to the bar with his teammate for another shot.

You and Sakusa are quick to locate his car, and he unlocks it with a chirp so you can both slide into your respective seats. Before fastening your seatbelt, you lean over towards him to steal a few, long-awaited kisses from his lips that he returns with fervor, giving you a glimpse of the impatience that had apparently been dwelling within him all night long. When you run your hand over the bulge in his pants, though, he’s quick to retreat from your affection and stick his key in the ignition.

“Omi,” you cry softly, brows furrowing and lower lip protruding with dismay. With the way your core is on fire at the moment, you want nothing more than for him to at least give you some relief in the car. The fifteen minutes it’ll take for you to get home are going to be painstaking at this rate.

His dark eyes flick over to you, narrowed ever so slightly with irritation as he responds, “Being a brat isn’t going to get you what you want.” The two of you lock eyes for a long moment in a silent battle for dominance before you relent, sit back, and buckle in your seatbelt. “Good girl.”

Your body warms at the praise, and grows even hotter when he slides his hand over onto your thigh after reversing out of the parking spot and shifting back into drive. His focus doesn’t leave the street ahead as his fingers find the slit in your skirt and navigate the short stretch of skin between its peak and your valley. Instinctively, you grasp his wrist to guide him closer to your underwear, but he stops.

“Don’t touch me while I'm driving, princess,” is the firm command he utters that makes you release your grip, “You’ll distract me.”

Your fingers dig into the smooth, leather seats as you try your best to restrain yourself, but each stoplight you hit makes you squeeze your thighs together with impatience, trapping his hand between your supple skin. Since he can see how desperate you are, he prods at your clit through your soaked panties, eliciting a gentle moan from you. With the way you've been waiting for him to touch you all night, anything you can get from him feels amazing.

Though he’s being silent, he’s trying his best to contain himself at hearing the pretty sounds slipping out of your mouth and feeling how wet you are. He didn’t realize quite how worked up you were until now.

“Baby, I want more,” you utter after no more than just a few, short minutes of toying with your sensitive bundle of nerves.

He scoffs, “I’m not giving you more. Can't have my leather seats getting ruined by you making a mess when you cum, dirty girl.”

You clench around the slim vibrator at his words and groan when he withdraws his fingers from between your legs. Thankfully, you can see your neighborhood come into view, and he's parking outside your house before you know it. Anticipation sends another painful throb through your walls as you unbuckle your seatbelt, dart out of the car, and hurry towards the front door.

Sakusa seems to be in less of a rush, though, since he takes his time opening the door, removing his shoes, and loosening the tie around his throat. Your tugging at his arm to lead him towards the bedroom only earns you a warning glance, so you wait a few, painfully long seconds for him to finish what he’s doing. Your patience is quickly rewarded, though, when he guides you into the room, yanks down the zipper on your dress, and pushes you onto the bed.

His lips crash against yours as you sling your arms over his shoulders to bring his body down towards yours. Each of his kisses are deep, passionate, and add more fuel to the fire that’s been burning between your legs. Feeling needier than ever, you hastily undo the buttons on his shirt while he unclasps your bra and rids you of your panties in a flash. He swallows the loud moan you release when his fingers slide into your weeping pussy to retrieve the vibrator that’s been lodged inside of you the entire night.

Your hips buck against his fingers as they slide out of you, removing the small device and tossing it aside, so he allows you a sliver of relief by rubbing his fingers coated in your essence against your clit. He watches your expressions of pleasure and the way your muscles twitch as you chase the high you’ve been after all night. The sight of you with your face flushed and eyelids squeezed shut as your lips part to utter more delightful sounds of pleasure makes his erection throb painfully in his pants.

“You poor thing,” he coos, removing his fingers from between your legs, “So desperate to get fucked. Take my pants off and I'll let you cum on my cock since you’ve been a good girl all night, but not until I say so.”

In your hazy state of mind, you reach for his belt, unbuckle it, and set to work undoing his pants. He slides his shirt off before discarding his trousers and littering your neck with more kisses as he slowly inches closer to you. You exhale breathily when you feel him slide the head of his dick from your clit down to your entrance, teasing you by remaining just outside.

“Kiyoomi!” you complain in a moment of sexual frustration, “I don’t wanna wait anymore.”

To this he responds harshly, “Quit whining like a little brat or else I'll fuck your mouth instead so I don’t have to listen to you.”

He sees a look of shock pass over your features like a dark storm cloud drifting in front of the sun, and he worries for an instant that he’s overstepped a boundary. But, to his relief, you rest your head back against the soft covers and breathe, “I'm sorry, baby.”

“That’s my good girl,” he praises in a much gentler tone and places a peck against your sternum before lifting your hips up towards his.

A drawn-out moan spills out of your mouth as he pushes his cock inside of you, giving you the sensation of being full that you’ve so desperately been craving all evening. His gaze remains on yours, and you watch the subtle crinkle of his nose and twitch of the moles above his eyebrow that always accompany a low groan of satisfaction during moments like these. After he’s bottomed out, he allows you a moment to breathe before he begins thrusting into you rather roughly.

Any words you want to say you’re unable to form as he indulges your tight pussy, spreading your legs further with his hand so he can reach deeper and deeper inside you with each snap of his hips against yours. “Well?” he goads, his hot breath fanning across your neck and ear when he moves his head there so he can latch onto your tender skin with his teeth, “Let me hear you, baby. Now.”

You mewl loudly at the sensation of him sucking on your neck in combination with his cock hitting your cervix, sending small jolts of pleasure skittering across your skin like electricity. “Faster, please!” you manage to squeak as your hands move onto his back, fingertips pressing into his muscles, which ripple with every thrust inside of you. His skin feels unbearably hot against yours, causing beads of sweat to form on your bodies.

He obliges your request and picks up his pace until all you’re able to do is let your head roll back and moan unintelligible words while he attacks the sensitive skin on your throat. Every grunt he utters sends tingles down your spine, and you can hear his breathing become more labored whenever he starts succumbing to the satisfaction he’s reaping from being sheathed in your velvety walls while they clench deliciously around him.

Following a particularly rough thrust that nearly has you seeing stars, he mentions, “You were being so expressive about your desires earlier, princess, but you can’t even speak now? Nothing shuts you up quite like having my cock deep in your pussy, huh?” You nod in agreement, since you’re not able to form any coherent words as you rock your body against his.

After a few minutes, you feel the pressure you’ve been holding in your stomach all night long threaten to loosen up, and you whimper, since you’re right on the edge of the orgasm you’ve been waiting too long to experience. Sakusa notices the anguish etched into your features when he takes a pause from decorating your neck with love bites, and rubs your clit with precise movements, targeting your most sensitive spot.

“Cum for me like the good girl you are, princess.”

His husky command pushes you over the edge, and you cry out with ecstasy as you pull him closer to you and buck your hips against him feverishly. The feeling of your pussy pulsating around him bring him to his orgasm faster than expected, and a stream of curse words and praises fall from his mouth onto your ears. He knows you’re on birth control, so he finishes while nestled deep within your core, painting your walls with his release.

The sensation isn't one you’re used to feeling, since he often opts to pull out anyway, but you enjoy coming down from your high while he’s still inside you. Feeling that you’re still connected in the vulnerable moments that follow your sex sessions brings you a sense of comfort you didn’t know you’d been craving.

Once you’ve had some time to regain your breath, he withdraws from you and presses a gentle kiss against your lips. “How was that?” he asks as he lays down beside you and grabs a few tissues to clean up the fluids seeping out of you, onto the duvet.

“Great,” you hum softly, “I enjoyed it. How did it feel for you?”

A look of concern crosses his features as he discards the used tissues in a nearby trashcan. When he turns back to face you, he brushes a few strands of hair away from your eyes and comments, “I’d prefer not to treat you like that.”

“Baby, I know how much you care about me. You’re not hurting my feelings; it’s just roleplaying.” A short pause in your conversation ensues as he contemplates your words while you run your fingers along his neck and jaw. “Would you be open to trying it again, maybe, or was it just not for you?”

“I just don’t feel comfortable speaking to you in that way. I didn’t like calling you a dirty girl or saying that I was gonna fuck your mouth. Seeing your face when I said that nearly made me stop.”

Upon noticing the uncertainty flickering in his dark gaze, you gently coax him to bring his face closer to yours by lightly pressing your fingers against the back of his neck. You then close the gap between your lips once more with a long kiss that you hope communicates to him at least a sliver of the immense amount of love you have for him. His hand cups the side of your face when you pull away, making you smile.

“It’s okay. We won’t do it again if it makes you uncomfortable,” you reassure him, “But will you call me a good girl and take control like that more often? I think I enjoyed that part the most.”

He nods, sending a ripple through the dark sea of waves atop his head, and presses another kiss to your forehead. 

“I love you, Kiyoomi,” you utter when he pulls away.

“I love you too, (f/n). Let’s go in the shower now.”

You let out a low murmur of disagreement and pull him closer to you so that his warm body's hovering over yours once more. Giving him a playful tug on his lower lip with your teeth, you mention, “You made me wait too long tonight for one time to be enough, baby.”

masterlist

dedications: this work is dedicated to the lovely @ohbyunhunn​ :) I hope you enjoy since you were havin a rough day ❤️ thanks for listening to all my whack ideas n supporting me anyway bb 😌

#fran writes hq!! #ahkaahshi gets wild #sakusa kiyoomi #haikyuu!! #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #haikyuu x reader #x reader #reader insert #haikyuu #hq!! #anime #manga #sakusa smut #haikyuu smut #tw: degradation

[yami-writes]

Could we get some fluff for girlfriend Uraraka?

(✨) paring(s) — uraraka x gn!reader (❣️) genre — fluff (⚠️) warning(s) — none  (💌) yami's note — ofc nonnie~! enjoy <3

Uraraka

she’s literally the sweetest bean 🥺 please take care of her

get’s flustered very easily 😗

take her on mochi dates please

she’ll enjoy them so much 

especially since she gets to stuff her face with mochi~

she’s like your own personal cheerleader

it doesn’t matter what you’re doing she’ll cheer you on ✨

“go y/n! you can do it!”

“ochako..”

“what!? i’m just cheering on my bestest friend!!”

yes she calls you that even while dating 🥴

won’t verbally ask you to cuddle

she’ll just make grabby hands towards you with her arms open expecting you to cuddle her

*sitting on a couch, pouting* 

“what?” 

*makes hugging motion then stretches her arms out towards you* 

“..fine” 

let her be big spoon!

she loves feeling like she’s protecting you~ 🤧

(but switch it up every one and a while)

okay listen.... homegirl can’t cook, but please allow her to cook with you

she may or may not burn everything in sight but i am quite literally begging 🙏🏾

“y/n.....” 

“hm?” 

“i- i burnt the water...” 

“you.....what?” 

“...im sorry,”

“i...... how?”

give her some time she’ll get there eventually

but if yall both cant cook then you’re burning down the house together 😌💅🏾✨ 

your shit is her shit

own a sweater? it’s her’s now

basketball shorts? catch her sleeping in them

and no, she wont give them back 

unless you rlly want it back then she’ll give it but she won’t be happy about it and will proceed to find something to replace it

she will personally dig through your closet and steal what she wants

you’ll find her literally shoulder deep in your closet trying to find anything and everything that reminds her of you

“what are you doing?” 

“mE?? i don’t know what your talking about!!” (she says as she continues digging)

“what are you looking for in my closet?”

“aha.. maybe.. one of your sweaters to keep me warm 🥺👉👈”  *pleading eyes*

“...take it.”

“yAYYY”

if you think you can resist her pleading eyes then you are wrong.

take you shopping with you, p l e a s e 

she never got to have that kind of experience as a kid and i think she would really enjoy it

like even of yall don’t buy anything she’ll still have so much fun

and when she goes home she will just talk non-stop about everything that happened with the other class-a girls

“yea yea!! and then we went to the food court!!” 

“rEALLY??”

“YEA!! y/n got me mochi and boba! it was sooo good!!”

overall, the sweetest girlfriend 🤧✨

masterlist

#uraraka x reader #ochako x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #ochako uraraka #uraraka imagines #bnha imagines #mha imagines

[angelicmichael]

Willow

Michael Langdon x reader

Summary: Reader, who is a witch (not tied to the og coven) is best friends with Michael. They decide to spend Valentines day together in outpost three. Based on this post, and the 'willow' music video by Taylor Swift.

Words: 3.0k+

Warnings: mentions of rituals/covens (its vague tho), slow burn, light angst, mutual pining, gross fluff, plot heavy and VERY descriptive I'm sorry dhdhd, valentines day fic, mentions of food, friends to lovers

A/N: yall rlly liked my last Michael blurb so I made this kinda similar!! Also the idea of witch! Reader not being tied to the og coven is NOT my idea, others have done it before - I just did it cause it made sense w the music video this fic is based off of ✌🏻. This is mostly me self indulging ngl so if the fic doesnt make sense that's why haha. The v beginning is like Sojourn! Era and then the rest of the fic is somewhere between fire & reign and outpost era. this fic is rlly just me trying to say happy early mf valentines day !! 💖💖 okay bye

February 14th was always a day you dreaded; The idea and concept of a whole fucking holiday being dedicated to just love.. really put a bitter taste in your mouth. In your opinion, it was just a reason for couples to show a disgusting amount of PDA and get away with it.

However; due to a incredibly corny and cliché situation you found yourself in; you now were seeing the incoming holiday in a different light. When you thought of the holiday.. You first thought of Michael. Michael Langdon.

Meeting Michael at all was a complete accident - You met months ago in fall; on a dark cloudy night. Every detail from that evening was etched and woven into your mind as if it had just happened yesterday; and you could only hope that it would remain that way forever. After all; that was the night when you had met your favorite person. You even remembered the weather.. The bitterness of the cold wind making it seem as if it was seconds from storming.

You were part of a small coven which was meeting due to a full moon, it was a rather mundane and basic ritual you were preforming. One of which you had preformed more times you could even count on your fingers.. However; what made that ritual special is that your coven happened to be recruiting.

Full black outfits, including thin, long cloaks is what everyone wore to the occasion.. After everything was over and done with; you went to leave - the bitter coldness of the night urging you to leave rather quickly.

However; something.. almost a invisible force made you stop walking away from the crowd and made you physically stop. You slowly stopped walking; and turned around. You sharply gasped when you saw a figure directly in front of you - wearing a dark ensemble that matched yours nearly identically.

Immediately you grew weary. A sharp, nauseated feeling started to manifest inside of you.

"Were you following me"? You spoke with your voice raised, your hands which previously fell loosely at your side were starting to curl into fists.

You could feel yourself getting defensive. You quickly flicked your eyes over at the other coven members - making sure you weren't causing a scene; not wanting to draw attention to the situation until it grew necessary.

"Yes, but.. look. I just wanted to talk to you.. away from the others". The boy stated.

You bit your lip to suppress a groan. You rolled your eyes, not really caring that he could see how bothered you were.

"Fine. But c'mon, make it quick". You said, not trying to hide the irritation in your voice.

You turned around and walked a few feet away from the crowd, not looking back but merely expecting him to follow you. You were expecting he was just another newbie with dumb questions, or needed clarification on something.

You turned to talk to him, and that's when you noticed something you about him you seemed to overlook earlier - his beauty. You were completely taken aback and breath taken. Light blue eyes met your gaze as you stared blankly at him; momentarily stunned. He looked beyond ethereal; his pale cheeks flushed a light pink from the cold and his blonde hair looked as if it could be spun from gold. It was almost like he could sense how you were suddenly taken aback.. A smug smirk played on his lips; if you didn't know any better you would say he almost seemed cocky.

"There's something about you that's different from the others. I could sense it". He stated.

"How"? You stuttered.

You watched as he took a couple steps toward you and in one quick swoop, pushed the hood of his cloak fully back. He got even closer but you didn't dare move. You watched him curiously as he turned to the side, pushing his blonde locks of hair out of the way to show you something behind his ear.. Your blood instantly went cold once you saw three sixes; however you weren't scared. In fact you were really the first person that Michael met that didn't practically faint when they saw his mark. Looking back; you supposed that's why you and Michael bonded so quickly and became so close.

It didn't take long for him after that to confine in you that people either avoided him or became obsessed once they knew; both reactions ultimately stemming from fear. You were the first person to look past that and to just see him as a actual human being - not just a vessel for some fucked up prophecy to play out.

Even though Michael's beauty was undeniable to you; the relationship you two had was strictly platonic.. and in the past that was never something that bothered you. You supposed that he was tired of people throwing themselves at his feet and what he really needed more than anything was a friend - so you chose to be that for him, not daring to try and test the boundaries your relationship had.

However; the boundaries were seemingly starting to come down naturally - because your relationship wasnt entirely platonic anymore. Things between you two weren't exactly black and white as they used to be; a great example of this, was how you two were planning on spending Valentines Day together.

You and Michael agreed to spend it as friends. Neither of you had a date and spending Valentines alone when you had Michael seemed redundant.. and honestly just boring. Instead of making Valentines day an all day event; it started for you two as a 'date' at 6 pm.

In order to avoid having to confront putting a label on your.. situationship, the venue for your lavish Valentines date was at a more.. private venue. He only gave you a address and instructions, you didn't really know what exactly to expect but you knew you weren't going to his house. It was somewhere new.

It was nearly six pm, the sun had just set - leaving the sky a shade somewhere between navy blue and pure black. The air was cold on your skin as you stepped out of the car, wondering where the hell you even were.

The area you found yourself in was completely bare and void of any trees, the only object or building you saw was a giant, black, metal structure. The instructions Michael gave you had told you about this but.. seeing it in person was merely jarring, oddly unsettling. You approached it, trying to ignore the nerves and anxiety you could feel creeping in.

You couldn't help but wonder what the hell this place was and why out of all the places you two could have a 'date', it would have to be here?

As you stood in front of an elevator - stepping in, you felt very reluctant to do so. It definitely felt a bit weird that Michael wanted to meet you in such a secluded place but.. he was your best friend. He would never hurt you.. especially on valentines day.. Right?

The doors opened and you slowly stepped out, immediately taken back. You were now in a oval room, with a long hallway stretching out. You first quickly scanned your surroundings for Michael but, he wasnt here. Not in your line of vision anyway. You nearly forgot you were here for Michael at all for a second. The interior was breathtaking; resembling a old, Victorian style mansion. Even though you were still utterly confused; Michaels reasoning for choosing this venue was starting to become more clear to you.

It was the cozy, romantic vibe the 'house' seemed to radiate. The dim lighting also amplified this affect; seemingly giving everything in sight a subtle golden glow, otherwise everything remained relatively dark. You walked through the building; down hallways, looking for any sounds of life at all. Your witchy senses didn't always work on Michael, so you didn't even bother to try to use those. He was right about how you were powerful but, his powers still outshone yours unfortunately.

You finally heard something, something faint; soft music playing distantly in the background. You followed it swiftly, the music getting louder and louder until you found him - in what appeared to be the library.

The room was immense; books were lined on shelves that bordered the room. Couches, along with a decent sized fireplace and chandelier - and of course a record player, also resided in the library. Playing a tune that sounded similar but you couldn't quite remember what it was.. whatever it was, it sounded old and romantic - maybe from the 50s.

"Your not very good at hiding, you know. The music was a dead giveaway". You commented playfully.

Michael greeted you with a smirk, obviously holding back laughter. He stood up from one of the couches; approaching you. He looked incredibly handsome in the normal black ensemble he was wore but tonight he sported a long black coat. Making you fondly nostalgic of the night you two met.

He got dangerously close to you, almost in your face but you weren't intimidated. Plus, you knew he wasnt trying to actually intimidate you. Michael being the way he was; you knew he wouldn't have asked you to spend Valentines with him if he didn't tolerate you in some way.

"Its a good thing I wasnt trying to hide then, is it"? He spoke; his eyes pierced into yours.

The direct eye contact was starting to get unnerving and so was the.. apparent tension. You took a step back, looking away and laughing awkwardly - trying to remind yourself you two were strictly friends. Best friends, in fact. Nothing more.. and nothing less.

"So.. what even is this place? You don't own this or something.. do you"? You asked, slyly changing the topic.

"Actually I do. It's being saved for something I have in the works; but nothing's official yet. I wanted to get your opinion though.. what do you think"? Michael asked.

Even though you absolutely loved, whatever the hell this place even was, something.. felt off. Perhaps it was the fact it was completely secluded and private. Too private. You knew Michael was into some weird shit with the Satanists but; you figured he would atleast tell you by now if he was planning on something big with them.. Something that would require a huge fucking mansion underground.

"This place is beautiful, Michael. But what is it for"?

"Your too eager for your own good, (y/n). You will know in due time, I promise; but for now.. come sit with me".

He gently grabbed your wrist and guided you over to one of the bare, black couches; you followed - sitting next to him.

The hours continuing were filled with incredibly cheesy gestures that you only rolled your eyes at, and teased him for. The first being a few small, pink flowers he had conjured up and then tucked into your hair. At first you really thought nothing of it, they were just pretty flowers. However; you knew due to Michael's nature that he didn't just so happen to come across those flowers, he summoned them purposefully - specifically for you.. You didn't bother to try and hide how flustered this made you.

"Those are beautiful; what are they"? You asked, gesturing to the flowers.

"Thought you'd never ask. Wild roses. They hold many meanings; most agree they represent both love, suffering, beauty.. life. They're even said to protect the living from the dead".

You couldn't help but to laugh at his explanation.

"Will they protect me from you? You know your not exactly human yourself". You teased.

The corner of Michael's lips slid into a slow smile, one that you couldn't quite decipher whether it was an ironic or genuine gesture.

You nearly jumped at how quickly one of Michael's hands suddenly slid up into your hair; seemingly picking out one of the petals that had fallen from one of the flowers - he retracted his hand, holding onto the petal.

"No. Your going to need something stronger than that to keep me away". He said playfully, before crushing the already wilted petal in his hand - letting it fall carelessly to ground.

You could only roll your eyes.

Next came the food and well.. you were beyond impressed. Your not certain exactly how he managed to get your favorite food down who knows how many feet underground, but.. he did. And it was perfect.

You were both pretty quiet during that time; Michael didn't really have a reason to be but you couldn't help but to get lost within your thoughts. Sure; you two were best friends but.. that didn't necessarily warrant him to do all of this for you. Was it possible that he felt.. something else, like you did?

You couldn't help but to shut that thought down as quick as it came; that had to just be you projecting. There was no way in hell he could love you back..

Wait.. love?

It was like a involuntary reflex the way you suddenly jolted up and backed away from the table. Even though it was just a thought, the fact you just admitted to yourself that you loved him.. What the fuck did that even mean?

Michael looked startled at well, you could tell by the color of his knuckles that he now had a death grip on his silverware. His icy, blue eyes matched yours with a startled gaze.. As if he was trying to contemplate your next move or to get a good read on you. You were more than well acquainted with Michael's powers by now; you knew how he had the ability to read minds and that's partially why you found yourself, slowly at first, starting to take steps away from him. Wanting desperately to get the fuck away from him. You knew that if Michael even suspected what you were thinking or how you felt, that your friendship could possibly be over. That would be it, he would want absolutely nothing to do with you. You would be no better than the dozens of women and even men that threw themselves at Michael; Maybe even worse.

You made it down a random hallway until you found yourself physically colliding into him - fucking transmutation.

You felt a sudden urge to just turn around to try and escape again but you knew he wouldn't let you. Instead you let yourself be captive, you let him hold you. Gently encasing you into a hug. It was painful how hard you were trying to hold back your tears - blindly running away was already embarrassing enough, letting him see you cry would be too much.. Too much for one night, anyways. You felt him let go of you - stepping back a little bit in order to make eye contact with you.

"What has gotten into you-" He started.

"Michael- I'm so sorry but I just need to go. We can talk about this tomorrow but for now I just really need to be alone-"

You tried to turn around in order to make another (more calm) attempt at leaving but you felt something grab at your wrist, yet again. His grasp, along with his hand were achingly soft. You hated how much you enjoyed him making physical contact with you - even if it was something just as docile as this. You also couldn't help but to hate the spark of electricity you felt when his skin touched yours - and you couldn't help but to wonder whether he felt it too.

"No. I need to know what I did wrong. I'm not letting us end today like this". Michael said, his voice was strained with emotion.

His words were spoken urgently, his voice unsteady and even threatening to break.. That's when you knew you completely fucked up. He totally misinterpreted your actions.. the sudden realization hit you, piercing your heart like a knife.

"No, your right. Can we sit"? You asked.

He let go of your wrist coldly, sauntering out of the hallway you two were in. You would be lying if you were to admit that his sudden cold actions didn't hurt you; it definitely stung but you couldn't help to feel in this moment that you kind of deserved it.

The walk over was quiet and even a bit awkward. When you two sat; he looked at you expectedly.. waiting for you to talk first and explain your sudden, impulsive actions.

"It wasnt you.. that's not why I tried to leave at all, Michael. You did everything right. I mean that's really the 'problem', even though calling it a problem still isn't the right word but.." You paused before carrying on.

"What you did tonight for me was perfect, and I'm so thankful for that, truly. But I just feel like I'm starting to interpret your actions in a different way than in which you mean them and that's not fair to you. I know you just want a friend-" Your words continuously came out faster the longer you spoke, you were completely rambling at this point but Michael stopped you.

"Hey, stop". He said softly.

You felt as if you were dreaming when you saw him start to move closer to you.. it happened so quickly it almost felt fake. Michael gently pushed you back onto the couch, so that you were basically laying down flat on your back. You pulled him back with you so that he was on top, your hands automatically going to his shoulders.. feeling the sudden urge to yank his black top off and to feel his skin under your palms. The feeling was tempting; you could feel how hot his skin was even with his shirt on. You assumed your hands were cold by the way Michael shivered and even groaned when you touched him, that had to be the only logical explanation for him acting like that..

The manner in which he bent down, his lips getting closer and closer to yours was nothing but diabolic. He stopped until the point where his lips were just ghosting above yours - maybe only really a mere centimeter away from touching. It felt entirely far too tempting to just - barely tilt your head forward and stop whatever game your friend Langdon was trying to play, but.. you didnt. In reality; the teasing was far too delicious for you to want it to end so soon.

"Who said I just wanted to be friends"? He whispered.

You could taste his breath as he spoke, you felt trapped.. But if you were to be honest with yourself, you wouldn't rather spend Valentines Day any other way than in this manner.. Trapped with your absolute favorite person, with nothing else in the world to do but to get lost in each other.

His lips roughly collided with yours with such passion that you really haven't ever felt before. It threw you off guard for a moment, but you figured there was no sense in shying from it. You had been craving to be loved by him for so long; craving for him to touch you like this and now that it was finally happening.. you only relaxed and embraced the feeling.

Time slipped away from you far too quickly but after all; time didn't really feel real at all when you were underground in a bunker. No windows or clocks to help ground you back into reality..

You knew it was atleast passed midnight now; hours had passed and you two were now residing in one of the random rooms that you had come to learn was of 'Outpost Three'. It was apparent how careful he was with his words when he told you about the place; almost like he didn't want to tell you too much. He told you most of everything, like the cooperative and how this building was for some type of event that would be taking place in the summer but you didn't probe farther. You knew he would tell you in all due time.

You two were lying on a random, spare bed. It was luxurious and dangerously soft, but if you were honest - the sheets almost seemed scratchy in comparison to Michaels bare skin. Your head wasnt on a pillow but instead on Michael's bare chest, his rhythmic heart beat nearly lulling you to sleep. Almost putting you in some type of odd trance.

You both watched the movie that was playing on his laptop; propped up on a few sparse pillows at the end of the bed. Although you really weren't trying to keep up with what was happening or what the actors were even saying. Instead, you chose to be fully present with Michael, almost entranced in his presence. You two weren't talking but, just being surrounded by him - feeling his fingers lazily playing with your hair was heaven to you.

You still felt as if you were in a dream. After all in what timeline would you ever be so lucky to call someone like Michael, yours?? Even though you two weren't exactly official, you really didn't mind at this moment. Labels only seemed to really complicate things and in your opinion; you felt more than privileged to just sit here entangled with Michael, and to escape the rest of reality for a while.

Taglist: @mina672 @michaellangdonstanaccount @langdonsexual @jimmason @blakewaterxx @dark-mei-rose @9layerdevilfoodcake @prophecy-is-inevitable @matildaofoz @beautyiswithinchaos @frenchlangdon

#michael x reader #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon fanfic #michael langdon fanfiction #ahs fanfiction #my fic #i hope yall like this 🥺 its kinda odd i feel like but.. idk. im proud of the ending lmao #will post to ao3 in a few hours or so #lemme know if u would like to be on the taglist #I almost cut out the backstory of how they met but i just feel like it overall adds to the fic?? #ALSO the timing of this fic is probably not accurate at all like canon wise loll but idc

[your-local-bnha-writer]

LET'S CRISTEN THIS NEW HAIKYUU/BNHA BLOG WITH A BANG! Can I get a scenario for Kenma when he's streaming and his girlfriend walks in with some snack?

taking care of kenma during one of his streams

hiii nyan!! ahh thank you sm! 😌 Im rlly excited for to write for Haikyuu! this concept was so cute I hope you like it!

➣ pairing : kenma x fem!reader

➣ scenario [819 words]

➣ warning : none

kenma kozume 

The heavenly aroma of fresh baked apple pie filled the kitchen along with your excited squeals. You gingerly placed the desert on the stove and went to immediately take photos of your creation. Looking over at the time, you frowned. Your boyfriend had been streaming for 5 hours and you were getting quite concerned for Kenma. You took the responsibility of checking up on him every once in a while. 

“Oh! Kenma loves apple pie!” you exclaimed to nobody in particular, and quickly took out a small plate along with a pie knife. Bouncing excitedly, you lifted a piece of the apple pie and placed it carefully on the plate. For the finishing touch you scooped vanilla ice cream on it. Stepping back to admire your artwork you smiled and rushed upstairs to deliver him his snack.

Entering the room, you spot Kenma with his back turned towards you. He was in his natural habitat, headset and all. Giggling to yourself, you try not to be seen by his camera. Walking up to the side, Kenma finally notices you. 

“Hey, are you doing okay?” he asks, moving the mic away from his mouth. His eyes were still glued on the screen but it was clear most of his attention was turned towards you. You pulled up a nearby chair and sat down. 

“Hi just wanted to check up on you, I made you apple pie,” you say smiling brightly making Kenma’s heart flutter. He really struck the jackpot with you, didn’t he? He thanks you and tells you that he’ll eat it right after this round. 

“Yes, that was my girlfriend Y/n,” he spoke suddenly and you figured that the comments went wild after your little interaction. He had a small smile on his face as he finished the round he was playing. Leaning over you take a quick look at what was on his screen. Much to your surprise your face had accidentally peeked into the camera, and it only took a second for the chat to blow up even more. 

Omg was that Y/n 😳

uHH u didn’t tell us y/n was that pretty ??? 

Holy was that her? 

 “They’re freaking out over you,” Kenma smiles a cute chuckle leaving his lips while he grabs the apple pie you made. Your eyes shoot up and you instantly turn back to his screen. 

“Eh?! They are?” You skim through the comments and blush before leaning back down and covering your reddening cheeks. Your boyfriend hums pleasantly as he takes a bite of the apple pie you baked and your heart swells. 

“Good?” You question with hope in your eyes, you tried a new recipe and frankly, you didn’t have the most confidence in your baking skills. So when Kenma nods and continues devouring the pie, you couldn’t help but grin widely.

“Would you guys want to do a Q&A with Y/n? I know this is a little unplanned, but since she’s already here, why not?” he asks aloud to his fans but not before glancing at you to see if he had the green light. With a nod of your head Kenma makes room so his fans could see you as well. 

His fanbase was actually quite sweet, you were a bit nervous in showing up so suddenly but they welcomed you graciously. You and Kenma answered a lot of questions which shocked you, you didn’t think his fans wanted to know so much about a stranger. You guys answered questions about your relationship, life, questions about if you were going to adopt kittens together.

“Most likely,” he answers, and then goes on about the pros and cons about it. You couldn’t stop yourself from staring at him with the uttermost love in your eyes. It was times like this where you two could chill and be yourselves together. Not having to worry about anything. Apparently his fans noticed as well.

they do be lookin cute tho 🥺🥺💘

yall are the cutest i cant- 😭

kenma why can’t u be like this with me?? 😔

“Shut up Kuroo,” Kenma rolls his eyes and pulls you closer to him, making you blush madly. You guys answer a couple more questions before he decides to end the stream there, not feeling like gaming anymore. Kenma ends the stream seeing your guys waving figures turn into a black screen. 

“Did you have fun?” He asks standing up to stretch his sore legs and back. You do the same before nodding and lean over to press a light kiss on his cheek. He blushes before leading you to the bedroom. 

“Good, we should do that more,” He confesses and pulls you onto the bed, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, tickling you slightly. You only hum in agreement before wrapping an arm around his figure and dozing off to sleep.

#hfiudhf #hope u like it nyan 🥺 #haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #kenma kozume #haikyuu kenma #kenma imagines #kenma x reader #kenma scenarios #haikyuu requests #haikyuu!! x reader #live streaming with kenma