#nike initiator

[11oh1]

happy421🍃

[rockybloo]

It took a decade of being obsessed with Pacific Rim for me to finally get around to fiddling with my own mech story. This has no relation or connection to Glitter and Guilt or Decking City. This is basically a clean slate although this story does also take place on Earth.

SO FAR-I have it in my head that the mechs are piloted by at least two people: one that's the fighter who controls the robot's movements in combat and the other who maintains and controls the robot's systems (like reading the radar, charging up certain energy gauges for their co-pilot to prepare for strong attacks, activating shields, etc).

Basically, one person is defense and the other is offense. Mech piloting very much requires both pilots to be in sync with each other so they both come out alive in kaiju confrontations.

These two are kind of the misfits that struggle in social situations. The girl is clumsy and awkward and the boy tends to shut people out and really just sticks to himself. They winded up getting shoved into a giant robot without much hope for either of them to work out well, only for them to click almost immediately.

[amaliatheartist]

'Cause all the angels say,

[chessboxingstreetwear]

AE86 Dunk “藤原とうふ店” (inspired by Initial D) (custom by nobrainer.psd)

[snkrcollctn]

For their latest project, sneaker customizer no-brainer* has conceptualized a special-edition Nike Dunk Low based on protagonist Takumi Fujiwara’s cult-favorite daily driver from Initial D. Taking elements from the Toyota Sprinter Trueno AE86 that served as the delivery car for Fujiwara Tofu Shop, the Dunk Low concept features black and white leather uppers with a purple panel on the heel and an orange tag on the end of the Swoosh resembling the car’s blinkers. The shop name is printed in Japanese on the lateral heel counter, and the license plate is etched on the rear of the white midsoles. Classic black rubber outsoles complete the tribute design.

[self-learns]

Nike: Business Model, Canvas & SWOT Analysis

Introduction Nike is a globally recognized sportswear and athletic apparel brand that has captured the hearts of millions of people around the world. From professional athletes to fitness enthusiasts, Nike’s iconic swoosh logo has become a symbol of excellence, performance, and innovation. This article will delve into the world of Nike, exploring its history, business model, marketing…

[ichangedmycornyahhname]

Earth 42!Miles x reader

Summary: Reader grows suspicious of Miles, and eventually puts all the clues together. He’s the prowler. And she’s avoiding him. Ignoring his texts, calls, anything else. So finally, he confronts her.

Warnings: None really? Cursing, some kissing here and there, pretty fluffy. Nothing too bad (though if I make a part two I can’t say the same.) Not proofread at all- part.2 here

The text simply read, “Really Y/N?”

Her brows raised, confusion finding her expression at her boyfriends text. For the past few months Miles has been very suspicious. Leaving with his uncle to go gods knows where in this broken down city. “What is he talking about..?” She muttered to herself as she stared at the grey bubble. Her thumbs hovered over the screen as thoughts jumbled together in her mind. Did he know? Did he know that she found out?

She shut the phone off, setting it down on the balcony’s thin railing. Her eyes fell upon the dim city, the neon purple and green colliding together in a fierce blend of colors. She always reminisced about how the city was before crime took over. It was normal, you were able to walk the streets without being snatched or robbed. Maybe even killed depending how far into the city you go. A sigh aired from her lips, her head hanging down as she leaned against the railing. Her arms kept her propped up, allowing her to take a step back so that she had room to rest her head onto her forearms. “So you just gonna leave me on seen mami?” She jolted, her head shooting up and taking a peek over her shoulder. Behind her on the fire escape was miles, his relaxed demeanor coming as no surprise. His bulky coat, jeans, and Nike airs drawing a small smile to her face.

“Sorry Miles..got a bit distracted. Thinking.” She chuckled under her breath, attempting to break the ice. Miles approached, now leaning against the railing beside her with a hardly noticeable smirk. “So, you’re just gonna pretend you don’t know? Y/N.” His gaze hardened, his eyes now boring into the side of her head. This caused her to close her eyes, a sharp inhale coming from her. “That’s all I can do, ain’t it?” She paused, taking a moment before turning around, now propping her elbows onto the railing. She rested her back against the rusted metal, her shoulders relaxing as her eyes met his. “Miles, I know you’re doing what you think is right..I’m not gonna tell you off or anything. I just- fuck I wish you just told me. You buy me all these things, and earn all this money, and I knew..I knew it wasn’t from anything good. But you being the..” Her voice caught in her throat, her lips pursing together into a thin line as she struggled to speak the name. Miles took notice of this almost immediately. His smirk was gone, now flat teetering on the edge of a frown. His pretty hazel eyes raked up and down her figure before returning to her gaze. He held it, his stare unnerving. “Being the what ma?” He inquired, his brows furrowing ever so slightly. This ticked her off, his attempt to bluff, or change the topic. Or whatever the hell he wanted to call it. She scoffed, her hands raised in defense as she stood from the comfort of the railing. “Are you being serious Miles? You’re just gonna pretend like I don’t know what im talking about? I saw the suit. And you’re always leaving with your uncle to wherever the hell y’all go. Fuck- if you’re just gonna sit here and glare at me then go somewhere.”

“Y/N, chill.” He said. No, commanded, and Y/N did not like that. “The fuck you mean chill? Miles, how are we gonna be in a relationship and you’re just gonna lie to me the entire time? Psh, you can have this back.” She reached behind her neck, pulling the necklace with their initials off and tossing it at him. He caught it almost instinctively, the silver necklace now resting in his palm. He sighed, his hand coming up to rest on his braids. “Cmon mami, don’t be like this. I was only trying to protect you. Don’t you get that man?” He stepped closer, his hand coming to take a hold of hers. He laced his fingers with hers, his pretty eyes focusing in on her. “Why would I tell you something that could get you killed? escúcheme mami.” He let go of her hand, now holding the necklace up and wrapping it around her neck. “I would never want to hurt you, you know this. I didn’t want to tell you that for that reason.” He clipped the necklace together, the shiny metal now resting around her neck. “You know I wouldn’t want you to get hurt, right ma?” She blinked, her stomach swirling with that familiar feeling. Butterflies, this man always gave her butterflies. “Right..I’m sorry I just..-“ He cut in, his hand coming up to cup her cheek. “You’re talking too much ma.” He says before placing a pleasant kiss onto her lips. It’s gentle, patient, and forgiving. It almost has her knees buckling. Her arms wrap around his neck, his hand now finding sanction on her hips. Their lips lingered for a moment, the silence being broken by the honking and chattering of the crime ridden city. And while the city was a complete hell, Miles made everything so worth it. And it was the same for him. Her and his mother kept him going. Slowly they parted, though their noses were now nuzzling against one another as they rested in one another’s arms. “M’proud of you baby..you work so hard for us.” She muttered, which only drew a hum from him.

The two were so immersed in one another that they hadn’t taken notice of Aaron standing at the bottom of the fire escape. His lips curved into a smirk as he watched the two coddle one another. “Yo Miles, Cmon man. You can see your girl later. We got stuff to do.” He shouted up to them, drawing the two from their entanglement. Miles retreated from her arms, a small smile decorating his purple tinted face, the city lights making him look oh so good. “I’ll see you later ma, Ight? And go check on my mom for me yeah? Thanks.” He said as he began to climb down the stairwell. “Te amo mami.” He shouted from the distance. “Love you too baby!” She shouted back gleefully while waving him and Aaron goodbye. And just as you thought he was about to leave, Miles popped back up, strolling over and placing his hand under her chin.

He grasped it lightly, his lips finding hers once more. Yet, this kiss was much more intense. He bit and nipped at her lips, all whilst he watched her face contort, melting into his kiss. The kiss lingered, as did his lips as he pulled away. His pretty hazel eyes took in her flushed out face, his lips curling into a smirk. “Imma send you some money later mami, so you can get your nails done in that color I like. Kay?” He said before finally, he departed. He hopped back down and joined Aaron.

Y/N stood there, her face hot and her body even hotter as she pondered on his words. She knew exactly what he wanted. With one last sigh she retreated back into the open window behind her, her dimly lit bedroom greeting her. Tonight she would go to sleep with a clear conscience, no longer needing to worry about Miles and his secret escapades.

[ilygetou]

MET HER 0N THE iNTERNET | EREN JAGER.

PAIRING: EREN JAEGER X FEM! READER.

SYNOPSIS: Eren Jaeger met you on the internet & immediately fell in love with your looks, personality and body. He knew his crush on you was dumb and will not last long because come on — online relationships? Those don’t last that long. Until eren found a way to not make it online anymore!

C/W: losing the pwp war, noncon –> dubcon, online stalking, solo m! masturbation, lovesick! eren, possessive! eren, cheating, vaginal fingering, face/throat fucking, facial, brief after-care at the end.

WORD COUNT: 5.9K

NOTE: repost. i know y’all are so sick n’ tired of me but this is going to be the last time i promise 😓😓🤞

Eren was laying down on his bed, the moonlight illuminating and reflecting on his phone screen as he scrolled through people’s accounts/profiles on instagram. None who’ve piqued his interest, scrolling and scrolling until he came across your profile.

Clicking on your username, he was met with the highlights you have saved on your profile and the three posts you have posted. Eren clicked on the first post–it was a picture of you laying down on your bed, ass slightly up while you had your tongue in-between your teeths with a small smile.

Eren slightly gulped and continued going through your posts, his breath slightly hitching once he came across a picture of you with your thong peeking out from the low rise jeans you were wearing, shirt too tight your cleavage was all out.

Eren quickly zoomed out and went to check your highlights, clicking on the first one which was titled with “<3”, knowing exactly what it meant as soon as he saw a picture of you and another man holding hands. The next story being another picture of you and that man nose touching. As eren continued going through the highlights, the more furious he got even though he doesn’t even know you.

Eren clicked his tongue in annoyance before hitting the ‘follow’ button, maybe, fate might be on his side for once and you’d break up with your boyfriend soon.

The next day came rather quickly and throughout his whole day–eren was thinking about you. He was thinking about how gorgeous you looked, your smile so sweet, your hair styled in a unique way, everything about you was perfect. He couldn’t help but keep thinking about you, despite not knowing who you are.

12:40am.

Eren threw himself on the bed, letting out a sigh before unlocking his phone–clicking on the instagram app and checking his notifications, to find that you’ve followed him back. Eren smiled. Viewing your story to find that you’ve posted a new picture of yourself, it was a full body mirror picture. Your body slightly tilted to the side showing off your ass, you held up a peace sign over your face–you were wearing nike pro shorts with a plain white t-shirt.

Eren quickly liked your story, swiping up to reply–“lookin real’ good” and not even a minute has passed, he has already received a reply from you. “Thank youuu,” eren scoffed at the lack of energy and effort in your reply but then again, he gets it, you have a boyfriend. You shouldn’t be giving into other men’s compliments.

Eren decided to check your following, maybe even try and find your boyfriend’s username since you didn’t tag him in any of your posts.

You were following a couple of hashtags, some celebrities and then the rest were mostly your friends, family and classmates. Eren scrolled and scrolled until he came across a guys’ profile, he had your initial in his bio and a “i ❤️ my gf” pfp. His account was private and you were one of the few people following him. Eren decided that this was your boyfriend and to confirm his suspicions about it he went through your posts and checked the comment section.

A total of almost 200 comments were under each one of your posts and finally, after a few seconds of scrolling he found the same guy bombarding your comment section; “wife” “😍😍” “mine <3” eren rolled his eyes, slightly clenching his fists in annoyance.

He turned off his phone and placed it anywhere besides him. Eren was laying down on his bed, his hand resting on his forehead as he went deep into thought. Thinking of ways to get to know you better and maybe even make you fall in love with him just like how he fell in love with you at first sight.

Then an idea suddenly popped up. Eren quickly turned on his phone and texted one of his closest friends.

Eren’s fingers dragged towards the “ + to your story” button, scrolling through his camera roll and clicking on a picture of himself after the gym–shirtless and all sweaty from working out. He added any song that seemed to fit and posted the picture on his story. In a matter of a few seconds, eren got a bunch of notifications– “armin_arlert liked your story” “conniethegoat liked your story” “mikasa_ackerman liked your story” scrolling past the notifications and pausing once he got to a certain notification.

It was a notification from you, your username displayed on his screen with a ‘liked your story’ beside it. Eren felt his heart flutter, it was just a small little interaction from you but it still left eren flustered. He did find it a bit odd though, you had a boyfriend and no guy would like it if his girlfriend was liking other men’s stories. Especially not pictures of other men shirtless.

He didn’t give a fuck though. That just means he was one step closer to having you.

Eren took a screenshot of your notification, to stare at it every time he’s feeling a bit down–to remind himself that the girl he’s currently chasing noticed him and knows he exists.

Eren was already working on getting rid of your boyfriend. So he could finally get the chance to slide into your dms again but he needs to have your boyfriend out of the picture; It was simple really, all he had to do was contact one of his closest female friends to get the job done.

And who would he speak to other than mikasa. One of the prettiest girls he knows, his childhood best friend. Texting her & telling her to do him a small little favor; to text your boyfriend and “befriend” him. She obviously refused the request, why would she break up a perfectly healthy couple? And to have you, an innocent sweet girl, fall for eren’s schemes. But after eren’s constant nagging and him threatening her to drop her and waste years of a long healthy friendship made her agree.

“mikasa_ackerman requested to follow you.”

Your boyfriend didn’t accept mikasa’s request until she suddenly messaged him;

“You’re cute. Think you can settle for two?” your boyfriend was confused, how does this stranger know what he looks like when his account is private. He didn’t question it any further though–not when he went through mikasa’s profile. Pale-skinned girl with gray eyes, shaggy black hair that reached her chin and bangs that added more to her looks, her well-toned body that made her more attractive than she already was.

Immediately accepting the request and following her back.

“Thank you, not sure about the ‘settling for two’ thing though.”

Sure, your boyfriend might’ve done the wrong thing by messaging her back instead of just ignoring her dm but come on, men will be men and having a cute girl in his requests–patiently waiting for him to text back, did not make him greater than any man.

They texted for a while, mikasa occasionally sending pictures of herself wearing a sports bra while at the gym or sending full body pictures to your boyfriend to make him fold. All to which were eren’s requests and of course against mikasa’s will. Feeling an aching feeling in her gut every time she had to text another girl’s man made her feel horrible about herself. She was no better than a homewrecker.

Your boyfriend didn’t cross the line while talking to mikasa, yeah sure he was hiding it from you but he wasn’t flirting back. Sometimes, occasionally, on rare events, he’d compliment her. Saying she has a well-built body or sometimes saying she’s “kinda” good looking. But that was all before he found out she lived in the same city as him.

As soon as he found out, the way he was treating mikasa all changed. Becoming flirty with her, washing her with compliments. Doing all that behind the “i heart my gf” profile picture and behind your back as well.

And it wasn’t long before you found out. Eren texted you from an anonymous account, making mikasa send him screenshots and even screen recordings of her and your boyfriend’s chat for more solid proof. You didn’t believe it at first, denying the proof presented to you.

Until you found yourself at your boyfriend’s apartment, tears stinging your eyes as you held up your phone to show him the screenshots displayed on the screen. Crying while asking him if they’re real and begging him to tell you they’re fake, that it’s just someone wanting to play with your feelings. But when you saw the look in his eyes, shame and regret. You broke down crying, asking him why’d he decide to ruin a perfectly healthy relationship over some girl he met online? Were you not pretty enough for him? Did she love him better than you did? Deciding to just leave and not hurt yourself any longer by staying here as your ex-boyfriend chases after you. Calling you and yelling for you to wait.

As soon as you got back home, you didn’t even bother changing clothes–laying down on your bed with your phone in your hands, watching as it buzzed from the calls your ex was spamming you with, along with his desperate text messages. You dragged your finger across the block button, not thinking twice as you pressed on it. Switching apps to block him everywhere. You even deleted the story highlight, removing him from your bio and deleting posts that he appeared in. When you were finally done, your eyes were red and puffy, swollen from crying too much.

It’s been two days since the breakup and two days since you last posted on instagram. Eren knew that his vicious plan worked, having you dump your boyfriend and getting extra information about you; for example, where you’re settled at.

And what a lovely coincidence, you both live in the exact same city.

eren 🦇

Hey, everything alright? You haven’t been active lately.

Your phone lit up with a notification from; “ern_yger.” You stared at the notification for a while, debating whether or not you should respond to this random stranger who noticed your absence when even your own friends didn’t.

Unlocking your phone and tapping on his notification, dragging your fingers across the keyboard–thinking of a simple, fitting response.

Yeah I’m alright, I’ve just been busy with college.

You clicked send, not thinking twice about your response. Your message has already been seen by eren, you were left on read for two minutes before you saw him typing and while he took his time thinking of a response back you clicked on his profile. You were met with two highlights and zero posts, you clicked on his “me” highlight, feeling your mouth run dry once you were met with a picture of eren shirtless with only a pair of sweatpants and Calvin Klein boxers that peeked out. He was laying down on his side, the room was slightly dim but you were still able to makeout his face. The next one was a picture of his side profile, his hair was put up in a messy bun–his hair also looked soft and messy.

The other picture was taken from a slightly high angle, he was wearing white beaters with gray sweatpants. Once you were about to view the next story, you suddenly got a notification from eren which you accidentally clicked on.

“You sure? I noticed the missing highlights and change of bio.”

If you weren’t in the midst of trying to cope and move on from your past relationship, you would’ve noticed the fake acting concerned tactic men use to get any women they want and in this case, you were in the start of it. And deciding to fuck it and just pour your heart out to this random stranger because you really need it. Need someone to talk to right now and since none of your friends got time for you, you really appreciate eren reaching out to ask about your whereabouts.

You didn’t hold back, venting out your emotions and feelings about your situation. You didn’t leave out a single detail and made sure eren knew exactly how you’re feeling.

Eren was slightly taken aback by your reaction and willingness to share your private life with him. He even felt bad for you, you seemed genuinely upset and hurt but that still wouldn’t make him give up on chasing you. He comforted you for a bit, sending you long reassuring paragraphs. And eren slightly cringed at himself, he has never done this type of thing before—never in his life has he ever had a girl vent out her feelings to him and have him comfort her.

At the end you thanked him a lot for listening to you and apologizing for "being a bother" which eren responded with: “Not at all, I was the one who reached out first, don’t apologize.” You liked the message and thanked him once again before going on with your night.

It’s been three months since your breakup. And three months after you started talking to eren, he helped distract you from thinking about your past partner. He was funny, kind and understanding, everything you looked for in a man. You both even shared the same clothing style, music style and humor.

You didn’t have any bad intentions while talking to eren–you weren’t trying to use him to help you forget about your ex boyfriend. He was the one always texting first, asking you how you are, cracking jokes, sending you songs that he thinks you might like (you always end up loving them), sends you both movies & tv shows suggestions–he says they’ll help with distracting you and keeping your mind occupied from thinking about anything related to your past love.

While eren was the one filled with bad intentions and thoughts. First thing he did in the morning was check his phone for any notifications from you and if he got one, a wide smile would form on the corner of his lips–immediately unlocking his phone to respond back. And if he doesn’t receive a message from you, he’d unlock his phone only to be met with “sent 9 hours ago”, he’d aggressively throw his phone back to his bed. Sometimes gritting his teeth in anger and frustration, stressing over you not texting back.

But as soon as he does get a response back, he’d immediately forget all his anger and frustration from earlier. Telling you that it’s alright and to not apologize once you tell him how you fell asleep because you were too tired and ended up oversleeping which were followed by a bunch of apologies from you. And eren dismissed them, reassuring you by saying it’s okay and he really doesn’t mind—acting like he wasn’t absolutely losing his shit over you moments ago.

Second thing he does is go through your highlights. He has seen the pictures in the highlight multiple times but he still always ends up getting mesmerized by your beauty, way too much that he’d accidentally get turned on. An erection forming just by simply staring way too hard on your photos and eren couldn’t contain himself—pulling out his laptop and logging into his instagram and pulling out your highlight.

He’d zoom in on one specific picture, It was you laying down on bed while holding your camera high in the air–You were wearing a spaghetti straps pink tank top with baggy pajama pants. Your cleavage was all out and was very visible due to the high angle. Your face was mostly the main focus as you flashed the camera a small, warm smile.

Eren cupped his bulge, his breathing shifting from steady to unsteady, letting out shaky heavy pants as he lowered his slacks to where they stopped right beneath his knees. Eren’s eyes were heavy, his eyelids threatening to shut close as he started caressing the tip of his dick, kneading the tip roughly with his thumbs. Spreading his pre-cum all over the tip and slowly coming down to his shaft, massaging his hands up and down his length as his eyes were glued to the picture of you plastered on the screen in front of him.

A moan of your name slipped past his lips, his head slightly thrown back, his eyes were squinted–his hands wrapped around his cock as he messily jerked himself off. Curses and moans kept leaving eren the more he stared at your photo and the more his fantasies about you grew wild. Thinking about splitting you open with his cock while you whine and babble about how big he was, having you gush and cream all over his cock multiple times until you pass out from overstimulation.

Eren fastened his movements, squeezing the head of his cock as you kept flooding his mind and not even 5 minutes had passed and eren was already cumming all over his laptop screen. Staring at the bright screen with half-lidded eyes, his cum staining your picture that was displayed on the screen–he was letting out loud heavy pants, thinking up a way to make you his quickly and fast because eren can’t keep going on like this and it pains him knowing that he lives in the same city as you but still feels as if he was too far away from reaching you.

Eren’s phone lit up with a notification from you, a small smile spread across his lips as he stared back into his laptop screen before grabbing his phone and clicking on your notification. You sent him a couple pictures of yourself, asking him which one to post. Eren felt his heart flutter, staring at your photos in absolute awe. He clicked on each one of your pictures and saved them to his device.

He wanted to tell you to post all of them and that you look beautiful in each one of them but the idea of other men seeing your pictures ticked eren off, he didn’t want other men to see you, just the thought of it had eren boiling up with anger—with furrowed eyebrows, eren aggressively typed you a response back, a not very nice one.

“None. They’re not post worthy and the camera quality makes you look off,” which wasn’t true at all. Eren was sure that even with a poor camera quality you’d still manage to look good.

You stared at eren’s response for a while and then went and looked back at the pictures and the more you kept thinking about his reply the more his words started to seem true, maybe you do actually look kinda bad in these pictures…even though you finally got ready for the first time after the breakup. You did your hair, makeup and carefully selected an outfit for these pictures. You decided to just brush it off, you could take better ones next time.

“Oh okay! I won’t post them then.”

It has now been six months. You and eren started talking more frequently and even started going on both regular and face-time calls. And eren couldn’t be happier, your voice was soft and soothing, every time you sent him voice messages of you ranting about your day to him, he’d melt from the sound of your voice, he’d replay the voice message multiple times throughout the day. Your voice brings him both comfort and easeniss.

But then again, eren was sick in the head. He was the definition of the word ‘deranged’ but you still didn’t know that yet.

The way he’d wrap his hands around his cock while you two were on a call together, he would be on mute as you talked to him about random things–thinking that eren was listening to you but he was more focused on rubbing his aching, hard cock to the sound of your voice.

Every time you notice the silence you’d ask him if he’s alright, concern visible in your tone. Eren would reply with a shaky, low; “y-yeah” accidentally stuttering which he cursed himself for it in his head. Fisting his cock rapidly as you went back to talking. Eren loves it when you have a bad day, he’d get the chance to hear you whine and complain, sometimes on the verge of tears as you rant to him about your bad day, it makes his cock hard against his pants.

11:10PM.

You posted a picture of you in your story but you weren’t alone in the picture, a young man who looked eren’s age with short, light ash-brown hair with the sides and back trimmed shorter; making them a darker hue. He had small, intense light-brown eyes. His hands were wrapped around your waist making both of your shoulders touch.

Eren’s eyes twitched in anger, his brows knitted together as he swiped up and replied; “Who’s this?” you immediately replied with “A friend of mine! :)” eren left you on delivered, his jealousy over-taking him as he kept looking back at the picture, the way you happily smiled at the camera and the way you willingly allowed that guy to touch you like that pissed him off. A lot of thoughts ran through his head, one of them was marking you and making you his already.

An idea popped up in eren’s head. Quickly grabbing his phone and opening up the chat between you two, completely ignoring what you said earlier and typing out; “You free this friday?”

You opened the text and looked at it in utter confusion.

y/n 🐐

what do you mean?

eren 🦇

I’m asking if you’re free this friday? You know, maybe come over to my place.

y/n 🐐

Come over? To your place? I’m sorry but i can’t.

eren 🦇

Why not? It’s finally time we meet up, don’tya think?

y/n 🐐

We could meet up anywhere else, it shouldn’t be your place.

eren 🦇

What? don’t trust me?

y/n 🐐

it’s not that, it’s just that i’ve never met you before.

eren 🦇

Well obviously you didn’t? but we went on facetime calls and we’ve been close friends for months now. I even helped you get over your ex-boyfriend and you still don’t trust me yet?

Eren stared at his screen for a while, hoping that his guilt tripping tactic works. And to his surprise, it did;

y/n 🐐

You’re right, i’m sorry. What time?

Eren lets out a long sigh that he didn’t know he was holding.

“7pm is good.”

Friday, 7:30PM.

You wore a simple pink dress that reached above your knees with black thigh highs and throwed in a plain black jacket to cover up a bit. You were outside of eren’s residence, your breathing thickened before you reached out to grab your phone to tell eren you’re here.

y/n 🐐

i’m here.

sent 7:35PM.

eren 🦇

doors’ unlocked

seen at 7:35PM.

Your brows furrowed together before you turned off your phone and walked towards eren’s doorstep, hesitantly–you slowly unlocked the door of his house. And once the door was wide open, you were met with an empty hallway, a fish tank that was filled with various colorful fishes that decorated said hallway. “Eren?” you whispered his name as you walked in and closed the door behind you, slowly proceeding further into his place.

You were inspecting the furniture, everything looked so luxurious–that you were afraid to touch anything. You heard chirping noises and decided to follow the sound, a mottled grey colored, medium-sized parrot with a vent and a tail. It had a large black bill and a white mask enclosing a yellow eye, as well as a striking red vent and a tail. An african gray parrot was just sitting there in a silver cage, with his food and water in front of it.

You were admiring the parrot before feeling a large figure pressing his back against yours– “his name is hook,” his voice was deep, it came out as a low murmur, you slightly flinched and turned to face him. “E-Eren?” the teal-eyed man looked straight into you, a warm smile making its way to his face, “mhm?” he went and stood beside you and you slightly moved away to make some space between the two of you.

“Hooks’ a nice name, ‘t fits him,” you turned your back towards eren and went back to admiring the parrot. “You think?” eren tried keeping his eyes at his pet parrot as well but the way the girl of his dream was standing right beside him, in his house, right at this moment–makes him unable to focus on anything that wasn’t you. He side-eyed you to take a quick glance at you, he noticed the height difference between you two, he loved it, it was cute. It turned him on.

Eren cleared his throat which made you turn towards him, “so, wanna come up to my room?” you paused for a moment to think about it before nodding your head. Eren led the way to his room as you walked behind him, giving you an opportunity to look around his place even more. And once you made it to his room, you were shocked by the amount of space and furniture it had. His room was big which made you wonder, why would he need all that space if he lives alone?

His bed was king-sized, it could possibly fit three-four people. He had some posters of his favorite bands, artists and games plastered on his walls, a desk that had his laptop placed on top as well as other random stuff, including studying stationery. His room was well organized and filled with lots of unnecessary stuff as well as another fish tank.

You kept looking around until you spotted a wooden door, thinking of what could be behind that door until it clicked to you–probably a bathroom. He probably doesn’t like going out of his room that much so he designed a bathroom that connected to his room.

“What’dya’ think?” Eren asked before plopping down on the black cushion that was placed beside his bed– “‘ts too big'’ you answered before seating yourself beside eren, he moved closer to you, looking down at your dress, his eyes darting from your top to your thighs, that were half-covered by those thigh-high socks you wore. “I guess but it’s not that bad, is it?” you nodded your head, trying to look at anything that wasn’t eren’s face since he was too close. Way too close that you could probably count his eyelashes from how close he was.

Eren backed up a bit, noticing how uncomfortable you were. Eren grabbed a can of beer from the wooden table and opened it, taking a huge chug out of the can. “Want some?” you gave eren a confused look mixed with a disgusted look, “i prefer water” he playfully rolled his eyes before getting up and placing the beer can on the table. “I’ll go get you some then,” you watched as eren went out of the room–his footsteps fading away.

You sat there patiently before your curiosity grew, wanting to go confirm your suspicions on what’s behind the huge wooden door. You got up, unconsciously walking towards it–you grabbed the handle and pushed it down slowly, making sure to not make any noise. Once you unlocked the door, you were met with a dim room–the only sort of light coming from the three monitors placed on another desk in the room. Three huge monitors that all opened to different tabs.

Deciding to just fuck it and proceed even further–accidentally stepping on something that made a slight crunch noise, looking down and picking it up only to be met with a pornographic comic that had dried up cum splattered all over it. You let go of it quickly, your face scrunching up in disgust as you walked towards the three huge monitors.

You bent down a little to be met with a picture of you which you have posted a while ago displayed on the screen, your throat ran dry once you noticed the gooey white stains on the screen–you looked to the right monitor, an instagram profile opened on it which was one of your years old instagram accounts that you used to own during your teenage years. And the left monitor had the guy you recently posted a picture with instagram account.

You let out a shaky sigh, the guy who you thought was naturally sweet, understanding & charming was the complete opposite. A complete creep, a weird perverted man.

“You caught me,” a mans’ voice came from behind you, making your heart stop for a second–you turned around to face him, eren had a wide smirk curved on the corners of his lips as he leaned against the doorframe, you weren’t sure for how long he has been there watching you but probably long enough to catch your full live reaction.

“What is the meaning of this?” your voice came out low as if you were completely terrified of speaking up; “I don’t know, you tell me” eren walked towards you, shutting the door behind him–you took a step back, your back hitting the wall, eren had completely cornered you giving you no way out. Eren took hold of your chin, forcing you to look back at him–he aggressively moved your chin to the side, allowing himself to give you a small kiss on the neck.

You fluttered your eyes shut, you didn’t try pushing him off as he started nibbling on your neck; covering it with hot, messy kisses. “I’ve been wanting to taste you for so long, been wanting to do this for so long,” eren confessed, making a pit of disgust form in your stomach. Eren slipped a hand under your shirt, squeezing your right breast from above your bra. “Eren please…stop,” you finally managed to say which eren turned a blind eye on, ignoring your pleas for him to stop.

“Come on baby, you’ve made me suffer long enough, don’t ya’ think? Always had to beat my dick to pictures of you but now I finally have you within my grasp, don’t you think I deserve a reward for my patience? Hm?” Eren got on his knees and spread your legs apart, he placed his middle finger on your clit through your panties and started cautiously moving his finger.

You looked down on him with half-lidded eyes, tears pricking the corner of your eyes as you bit your lips to surpass any sounds from slipping. He moved your panties to the side and brushed his digits past your glistening folds before slowly pushing in two fingers into your tight hole, he teasingly started thrusting his fingers sometimes stopping mid-way but the way your slippery walls clamped down on his thick digits encouraged him to continue.

You were out of breath, wanting this to end quickly but the praises eren was muttering made it a tad bit better; “Ah, so good angel, gonna have you cummin’ all over my fingers soon, okay?” “fuck you’re so pretty, ‘ts makin’ my dick hard” he was plunging his fingers deeper into your messy cunt, your silk gushing and dripping all over his fingers. The squelching noises made eren’s cock slightly twitch in his pants as he imagined what kind of things he’ll be able to do to you from now on.

You couldn’t hold in your moans any longer–letting out your moans & whimpers freely as he kept thrusting his finger in n’ out of your pussy, “think..’m close!” you slightly arched your back and squirmed in your place, you placed your hands on your mouth to silent any moans from coming out as you gushed all over eren’s fingers. You were letting out heavy pants, you plopped down on the floor, your eyes glued together not daring to even try taking a quick glance at the mess you’ve made.

Eren lowered his sweatpants–enough for his cock to spring out and slap his abdomen, he moved his hips closer to your face and started rubbing his dick on the side of your cheeks which made you let out a whimper at the sudden warm feeling. “Open up, princess, ‘t hurts, y’know?” he pushed his cock against your lips, smearing his pre-cum all over your plump, glossy lips.

You swallowed your saliva before obeying and opening your mouth, your vision hazy which didn’t give you the chance to make-out eren’s girth. He shoved his cock into your mouth causing you to slightly gag, “s-so good, fuck,” you sloppily started sucking the tip, hollowing your cheeks and bobbing your head up and down his length. Swirling your tongue around his tip while drool dripped down your chin and coating his balls, you moan around his cock while eren lets out soft groans; “so cockhungry, huh?” he snickered–throwing his head back while he was still firmly gripping your hair.

He pushed his cock deeper into your throat causing you to choke a bit, tears rolling down your cheeks uncontrollably, eren started thrusting his hips against your mouth, his dick stretching your throat with every jolt of his hips. “S-Shit,” he sharply inhales, letting go of your hair and cupping both of your cheeks instead. You could feel his cock slightly poking at the side of your throat, a clear bulge.

Moving his hips in a slow, gentle manner–scared to hurt you but the way the head of his cock kept hitting your uvula which caused you to gag around his dick and ruin his steady pace, making his hips stutter and cock slightly pulsate as his shaft land flat on your tongue, “f-fuck, keep this up and i’m gnna’ be cumming all over your face” eren groaned, caressing your face while also letting out shaky moans.

His cock shuddered, twitching inside the warmth of your mouth, “Holy shit…” he mouthened before pulling out his dick with a ‘plop’ sound, your drool was connecting to his tip–your mouth hung open, your tongue stuck out, you were letting out heavy pants as you tried gasping for air. Without any warning, a sudden splash of warm, thick liquid covered your face. Managing to get on your tongue as well, the bitter taste made you flutter your eyes shut in disgust.

His sperm was burning your face, wanting to get it off of you fast and quick while eren was admiring your cum covered face. It stained your cheeks and dripped off your chin, your mascara melted and your lip-gloss got smeared all over your face. He was panting heavily but his gaze still focused on you, half-lidded eyes pierced through you.

“Did so good f’me,” he exclaimed, bending down and gripping your chin before pulling you into another messy kiss. Pulling out with a smug look, you looked back at him with a foggy vision–a small smile made its way to your face and eren heart stopped for a moment, the way you looked at him with droopy eyes, messy face and a smile on your face will forever be engraved deep into his mind.

“Stay here, ‘M gonna make some warm tea for your throat, alright? Clean yourself up, m’kay?” he kissed your forehead before going out and leaving the room, once again. You turned your head towards the monitor, your vision landing on the picture of you, the cum stains making you fill up with shame & guilt even though it’s not you who’s supposed to be feeling like this.

The sound of a notification coming from your phone pulled you out of your thoughts.

eren 🦇

*one image attachment*

Us after i destroy your uterus <3

[markfavorsports]

No Brainer x Nike Dunk Low AE86 INITIAL D review!

[dr-iphone]

機器人也能洗鞋子？Nike 打造「B.I.L.L.」能清潔和維修球鞋

機器人可以做的事情很多，當廚師、倉管、監工…等都能輕鬆上陣，現在又有新工作找上門了，在英國倫敦耐克城（Nike Town London）的「B.I.L.L.」（Bot Initiated Longevity Lab）機器人能清洗和維修球鞋，還能翻新舊鞋，為球鞋延續使用年限。 (more…)

[harryslittlefreakk]

so perfect for me

(late night talking part 3)

Summary: harry shows you his softer side on your third day together

Warnings: smut, 18+!! mostly fluffy

A/n: thank you for the love on the previous parts. these 2 are my fave, can’t wait to see where the week takes them!! please let me know if there’s anything you want to see from them :)

part one

part two

my masterlist can be found here!

You woke up the next morning cold and alone. Dread hit you instantly as you sat up, searching around the huge room for any sign of Harry. He definitely wasn’t there. You knew sleeping together would be too much for him, he initiated it as much as you did but in the harsh morning light, it felt like a mistake. Even with the window cracked, the room smelled obscene. The smell of hot, dirty sex was seeping out your pores, and you had a sticky mess in your panties. Just another reminder of your mistakes. You threw yourself back into the bed, thrashing around and groaning. You didn’t even hear the door open and close as you kicked and punched at the soft bed around you.

“Not pleased to see me?,” an awfully familiar voice came from above you. Peeking out of one scrunched eye, you instantly softened at the sight of Harry standing over you. He was wearing an oversized grey hoodie and black Nike shorts, headphones wrapped snug around his neck. He had a cup holder in one hand, two large coffee cups tucked inside, and a Pleasing tote bag draped over the opposite shoulder. “I thought you left, I thought you regre-“, you mumbled, running your hands across your face. Harry set aside the cup holder and sunk down on the bed beside you, pulling your hands towards him. “Hey, I would never. Jus’ wanted to bring you some coffee,” he rasped, planting kisses on both of your hands. You smiled sweetly at this, sitting up to be closer to him. He handed one of the coffees to you, “caramel macchiato,” and let the large bag slide off his shoulder. Reaching inside, Harry pulled out the prettiest bouquet, lavender and baby’s breath wrapped in brown parcel paper. “Got you some flowers,” he grinned.

“Harry! I love them. Thank you,” you replied. You could seriously get used to this sight. Possibly your favourite man in the entire world, perched on the edge of your bed, bringing you beautiful flowers and coffee. It was like you were living out all of your dreams at once.

“Come on pet, let’s get you showered.” Harry spoke as he moved from the bed, pulling the warm duvet off your body. As you turned to get up, you let out a hiss, suddenly realising how battered your body felt. Getting fucked within an inch of your life wasn’t wise after being on your feet for hours, you had no idea how Harry wasn’t wincing with every step. You rubbed at your lower back, padding behind Harry to the bathroom.

He’d already started the shower, giving it time to warm up before you stepped inside. “You need to wash your hair?” he asked, grabbing some products from the countertop. You shook your head, and he came up behind you, claw clip in hand, and secured your hair on top of your head. You watched him in the mirror, handling you so delicately. How could the same man who fucked you so hard last night, be so loving and gentle today? You really couldn’t believe that this was your life. Harry peppered kisses along the top of your shoulders, staring back at your reflection. “Are you sore today darling?” he snaked his hands around your waist as he spoke, rubbing gently at your lower stomach. You winced in response, confirming the damage his huge member had done to you.

You let the hot water run over you in the shower, still not really awake enough to function properly. Harry had stepped in behind you, and was rubbing watermelon-scented body wash all over you. His loving hands were soothing all the aches you felt. You really hated the smell of watermelon, but you’d never tell him that. He was caressing your body so gently, showing you so much time and care you’d never had before post-hook up.

He left you to do your skincare alone, running down to your room to grab you a clean pair of panties. When he returned, Harry dabbed at your dripping body with a soft towel, before holding out each leg of your underwear for you to step into. You stole a huge fluffy robe from the back of the bathroom door and slipped into that, feeling more content than ever.

—

Harry had shown you down to your hotel room after your shower, and your jaw went slack as you looked around. “Harry, I can’t afford this!” you gasped, taking it all in. An enormous bed sat against one wall, a small kitchen area off to the right. There was an entire walk-in wardrobe through a jack-and-jill bathroom, already filled with the clothes you’d brought. The room was accented with pale blue and warm wood furnishings, more homely than Harry’s prestige suite. He rolled his eyes, sauntering into your wardrobe. “Don’t have to worry about that, princess. Haven’t you single-handedly funded my room? Now I’m funding yours.”

He pulled on a white miniskirt as he walked through, pushing the hangers apart to nose at what you’d brought with you. “Which one are you wearing tonight?” he asked. You stepped into the room behind him, plucking a metallic fringe skirt from one of the hangers. You held it up against your hips, shimmying at yourself in the mirror, watching the tassels shine. It was a bright magenta with gold and copper iridescent fibres threaded through. The matching bra left little to the imagination, and truthfully you weren’t sure how much trust you had in the tiny top. You looked over at Harry, anxious to see his reaction to your outfit choice. “F’only I were wearing pink today,” he muttered, rubbing a hand across his chin. “You’ll look amazing.” He came up behind you now, pulling you back so your spine was flush with his front. Harry looked the two of you up and down in the mirror, stroking the tops of your arms.

“Listen, I feel bad that you’re hurting today,” he started, moving one hand to rest on your hip. “If y’wanted to, I could upgrade your tickets to VIP so you don’t have to be on your feet for so long.” You rested your head back on his shoulder, humming in appreciation. “I’d like that,” you nodded, “want more energy for you.”

“Yeah?” he confirmed softly, voice muffled against your hair. “Gotta do it subtly though, Harry. Joanie’s been blowing up my phone about you flirting with me last night.” He nodded, tapping his temple. “I’ve got my ways sweet girl.”

Harry moved to lean against the doorframe, putting his phone to his ear to pull some strings for you.

It wasn’t long before your phone rang, Joanie’s contact photo flashing up as she tried to facetime you. You whisper-shouted to Harry to hide, composing yourself before you picked up. She was screaming when you answered, repeating your name in a frenzy. “What happened?” you asked, genuinely confused. “I just got an email, we were upgraded to VIP tonight!! Apparently they do it to a few people every night. I can’t believe it!!” You snorted at her excitement, wishing you could tell her the rest of the story. “That’s so exciting!!!” You buzzed with her, hoping you were acting surprised enough. “Wait- where are you?” she quizzed, suddenly distracted by the view of your busy wardrobe.

Your heart caught in your throat, you’d forgotten that you already sent her pictures of your previous hotel room. “My hotel upgraded me,” you lied, words coming out before you could think them through. “I complained to the staff, that hotel was trash. So they moved me here,” you shrugged, hoping that would be enough. “Well I’m glad you got moved. I didn’t like you staying there. You know you could’ve stayed with me though,” Joanie pouted. “Show me round your room!!”

You panned the camera around your wardrobe and bathroom, then gave her a quick look at the main room. You had no idea where Harry was so you were anxious to show her too much. She hung up after a few minutes, needing to get ready, promising to send you the details for the show. You called for Harry to come out as you threw yourself down onto the bed. He peeked out sheepishly from behind the floor to ceiling curtain, an amused grin creeping onto his face. You chuckled as he walked over to where you sat on the edge of the bed, stopping right in front of you as you wrapped your arms around his hips.

“Thank you for doing that,” you said softly, tilting your head up to look at him. Harry picked you up by your armpits, throwing you down into the middle of the bed before climbing on top of you. He smushed kisses all over your face, giggling through his pouted lips. “Anything for you.”

Harry’s hands began to wander up and down your body, his mouth pressing kisses into wherever his hands trailed away from. You were panting softly now, your heart hammering in your chest as he worked his magic. You could feel his already hard cock pressing against your leg, and pulled your arms out of the fluffy white robe you’d stolen from his room to give him better access. You were so glad you’d only worn panties underneath. Harry’s eyes bulged as he studied your body, seeming to have forgotten how little you were wearing. His head dived toward your breast, kneading one softly as he licked around the other, suckling on your nipple before releasing it with a quiet pop when your hips bucked under him. “What’s got you so needy, huh? Gonna tell daddy what you want?” he asked, wearing a familiar smirk. “Need you,” you replied, back arching as he took your other nipple into his mouth.

He peeled off his sweatshirt before licking a trail up and down your abdomen, hooking a finger into the gusset of your panties and tugging them down your legs. Your entrance was already smothered in your juices, so wet and needy for Harry. He looked at you through half-closed eyes, his teeth grazing your bottom lip as he closed the distance between you. He kissed you softer than he had last night, his tongue exploring your mouth tenderly. Now that he knew how good you could make each other feel, there was no rush to get to the height of your pleasure.

You writhed under him as he slid two fingers into your folds, moving slowly but with purpose. “Let me know if it gets too much, okay pet?” he spoke against your ear, nibbling at your lobe as his fingers moved in and out of you. The slight pain mixed in with your pleasure, almost too much to take. You were reeling from how quickly he had you worked up.

“More, more, please harry. Want you inside me,” you mewled, desperate for the pleasure you felt the night before. “You ready for me, love?” he asked, pulling away to kick his shorts and boxers off his legs. His erection sprung up below his belly button, already glistening with pre cum. Your mouth watered at the sight, you couldn’t wait to have your lips around him one day. He stroked down his shaft, his tip blushing a bright red. “Want you on all fours for me,” he told you, eyes fixed on your curves as you moved into position.

Resting on your forearms, you turned your head to watch Harry as he aligned his tip with your folds, humming in appreciation when he swiped through your juices. “Look so delicious baby, could eat you for every meal,” he moaned, pressing a kiss onto your lower back. His hands groped your ass, fingertips digging in to the soft flesh. Harry pulled your cheeks apart as he pushed his tip inside of you, a moan tumbling out of his parted lips. You’d never get used to the burn he sent through your core. He eased in slow, careful not to hurt you any further. He stilled as he bottomed out inside of you, giving your walls a chance to relax around his cock. You flattened your chest to the bed, allowing your body to open up to him.

Your hips bucked with impatience after a moment, signalling you were ready for more. Moan after moan fell out of you as he started to thrust in and out, “you fuck me so good,” you whined, dragging out the last words. Harry was gripping your hips with both hands as he pushed in and out harder, cock twitching inside of you as his eyes wandered over your rounded ass. He slammed a hand down into one of your cheeks, rubbing it softly after to relieve the sting. You yelped, throwing your hips back into him. He chuckled, spanking you over and over until your walls started to tense around his thick cock. “Gonna come for daddy?” he drawled, reaching a hand around to rub at your clit.

You’d never been this close to your climax from penetration alone. Harry’s cock fit your hole as if it was made for you, your sex bringing you new levels of pleasure like you were only destined to fuck each other. The ball in your core was threatening to burst, so close to breaking point as he slammed in and out of your entrance. “Please Harry. Like that, like that,” you moaned, legs starting to shake and seize beneath you. You were panting heavily, drool spilling out of your mouth as your jaw went slack, screaming out a moan as you came violently on his cock.

“So good for me, baby, so good,” Harry praised, moving his hand from your button as you came down from your high. “Love fucking you raw, knowing you’re filled with my come,” he rambled on, so deep in pleasure that his words were slurring. Your bodies were knocking together forcefully, your juices mixing together and squelching with every thrust. He loved seeing your thick creamy come squeezing out of you, settling at his base. “Want to keep my come inside you all day, have it dripping out of your pretty pussy while you watch me later.”

His words were vulgar, so dirty yet so hot. You groaned in response, picturing it in your mind. No one else knowing the man they were lusting after had filled you up that morning, coated your insides in his pleasure. No one knowing how much he turned you on, how hard he made you come, how crazy he was for you. “Want it so bad daddy, want everyone to see your come dripping down my thighs. Want daddy’s come so much,” you moaned. The use of that name did it for him. How could he contain himself when you were saying such dirty things to him? With one last thrust, Harry was coming inside of you, fulfilling both of your wishes. You couldn’t wait for his show.

—

“What’s all this?” you asked, stepping out towards the balcony. It was late now, though you hadn’t been back at the hotel long before Harry opened the balcony curtains to show you a surprise. Fairy lights adorned the railing, sparkling bright against the dark evening sky. A bottle of red was nestled in an ice bucket, the tabletop filled with all different types of meat and cheese. “M’usually more of a gentleman before I stuff my cock into someone,” Harry shrugged, leading you towards one of the rattan chairs. His cheeks were pink, stained with his newfound shyness. “Feel bad that I don’t have time t’take you out properly, wanted to do something nice.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, smoothing your hair down before taking the opposite seat. “It’s lovely, thank you, Harry.” You felt totally overwhelmed by the side of him you’d seen today, he was so tender and soft. You knew he had you wrapped around his finger already, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You spoke for hours about your families, your homes and hobbies. He snapped a picture of you to send to his mum and Gemma, telling you how much they’d adore you. “Gem’s desperate for me to bring a best friend home for her,” he told you. Your heart warmed at the idea of Harry telling his mother and sister about you, wondering what he’d say. How he’d describe who you were to him. Your time together felt like a dirty little secret, something you’d keep close to your chest for years to come before one day spilling all the details to Joanie. It was refreshing to know he was bursting to tell his loved ones.

The wine had hit you both fast, slurring your words slightly. You were nestled in Harry’s lap now, pressing gentle kisses into every bit of visible skin. Drunk on each other, drunk on the atmosphere. You held a foot up, squinting at it through blurry eyes. “I need to paint my toenails,” you groaned, “got man feet when they’re not done.”

Harry gave a great bark of laughter, sliding you off his lap as he stumbled inside. His head peered around the door, asking you what colour you were wearing tomorrow. He came back holding a little red bottle. He held it up next to his face and grinned, “gonna sort your man feet out. Make ‘em dainty like mine,” he pulled a leg up and wiggled his toes for you as he spoke.

He sat you down in your chair, pulling the other closer towards you. Plucking one of your feet from the floor, he rested it against his knee and opened the bottle. You recognised the rounded top, it was Pleasing nail polish. He held each toe delicately, handling the brush so carefully you could barely feel it tracing your toenails. You watched him as he worked, so tender and careful with each stroke. A blush was creeping up your cheeks, your heart glowing so bright it could illuminate the whole city. You buried your face in your hands and let a toothy grin erupt. This was the most intimate thing you’d ever experienced. Harry was truly perfect in every way. When he was done, he pulled you back into his lap, careful not to knock your feet. His arms were wrapped around your shoulders, holding you tight against him. “Y’so perfect for me, baby girl,” he mumbled, pressing his lips into the nape of your neck.

“Want to take you out properly when I’m done, want the world to see who I have on my arm.” You couldn’t imagine any date would be nicer than what you’d had that evening, but the idea of everyone knowing you were his sent electricity up your spine. You lifted your hand to fiddle with his rings, twisting the giant H around his finger. “Got to get my initial next,” you smiled, pulling a different ring off. You slipped the golden S onto your left ring finger, laughing at how loose it was. Holding your hand out in front of you, you wiggled your fingers giddily. “Y/N Styles,” you giggled before slapping a hand to your mouth. A deep blush took over your face almost immediately, you couldn’t believe you’d said that out loud. You let the ring-clad hand drop into your lap, mortified. “You want to marry me already, sweetheart?” Harry teased, moving one arm to entwine his fingers with yours, pulling your hand away from your face just as he’d done that morning. You stuttered, unable to even try to come back from this one. Your face was screwed up in shame as he turned your head to face him. “Play your cards right and maybe I will marry you. Get you in a big white dress, show everyone how much I like you.” Harry was grinning at you, a true lopsided, wine-drunk, love-drunk grin.

You slipped off his lap, padding inside as you called out, “I’m never speaking again!” He chased after you, grabbing your waist and pulling you down onto the bed in a fit of giggles.

You stayed like that until you both fell asleep, blissfully unaware of the media storm erupting outside your bubble.

part four

[dejwrld]

— number 7 on paradis titans hockey team can get a little mean after he loses a game.

( cw ) ⸻ modern au, sports au, profanity, mean dom!jean in 4k hd ultra, female anatomy, her/she pronouns, afab, established relationship (reader and jean are married with a child), reader implied to black, creampie, impact play, oral ( f.receiving), slight spit kink, spanking, breeding kink, pet name usage (good girl, babygirl) he's just a lil salty he lost a game, i promise i ain't showing favoritism to najma lmfao, this fic was second place for the poll i posted week ago, wc: 2.1k, minors dni ! repost from old account!

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀dedicated jean baby mother aka @honeybleed

When Jean lost a game, you always seemed to walk on eggshells. The nicely decorated home grows silent as a mouse when your family enters the mansion. Your son seemed to fall asleep during the long ride from the ice rink to the house, and you only tucked him in his bed after stripping him out of his clothes. Neatly folding up the hockey jersey with his father's number on it and placing it away, you placed a loving kiss on top of his sandy brown colored curls before exiting the room. You were sure to close the door behind you since you weren't sure how Jean would react due to losing the game.

When Jean's team lost, he grew quiet. A little too quiet. His interviews with ESPN and other sports outlets weren't as cheerful and confident. You could literally see the frustration and sadness in his light brown hues. The rides home are always silent, other than the questions your five-year-old would ask randomly. As a new wag (an obnoxious term for wives & girlfriends of sports players), you always ask the other partners how exactly they handle huge losses.

Eren's wife, Emilia would only shrug, mumbling about how Eren usually forgets about the loss after a day or two before he's back on the ice, perfecting any screw-ups he made during the game. Connie's girlfriend CJ would make a subtle joke about giving him head after the game to make him forget about the disappointing end of the hockey team's season.

You walked towards the master bedroom of your home, your body leaning against the door frame as you watched Jean tug off the Grey Nike sweatshirt he wore. He tossed it in the laundry hamper in the corner of your room, now only in a white wifebeater. His toned arm flexed with each movement he made as he shuffled around the room. Occasionally, his gold necklace with your initials and your son's initials moved with each quick motion he made.

"Do you want to talk about it? I know it was such an important game," Your tone was soft-spoken and came out as if you were whispering.

"Strip." was the only thing Jean uttered as he was undoing the string on his Nike jogger pants.

Your lip gloss-covered lips parted to speak, but in the back of your mind, you were just thinking about making Jean happy. He was going through some wild emotions at the moment, and who were you to object against them. They lost the opportunity to compete for the Stanley Cup, so you knew the man in front of you was seeing complete red at the moment.

"Keep my jersey on, though. Everything else off." He huffed.

You stepped further inside the room, your back backing into the door to close it so you wouldn't wake up your son. Your fingers begin to unbutton the jeans you were wearing, slowly tugging them off your smooth legs. Soon, your panties joined them as Jean's index finger motioned for you to come here. With each step you took, you could feel the cool breeze in your room hit your bare bottom, sending a chill down your spine.

When you were face to face with Jean, he didn't say much. However, you could feel how hot he was. How frustrated he was. One harsh push on your king-sized bed caused your lips to let out a gasp. Your body hit the bed like a fragile little doll Jean wanted to play with. He's grabbing a hold of your ankle that was decorated with the gold anklet with his name on it with a cursive font. His lips placed soft kisses on your ankle, causing you to squirm under his firm touch. You expected him to treat you like a fragile rag doll that had just been snitched up. But boy, was you wrong. In one motion, he had turned your body around so that you were lying on your stomach, mumbling about how he needed you so badly.

"Be a pretty wife and get on all fours, m'kay," He said lowly.

You did what you were told, getting on all fours. The oversized jersey that formally belonged to Jean raised just a bit to be able to see the cup of your ass. A low yelp tumbled out your mouth when you felt Jean's large hands slap at the flesh of your ass before you could feel his hand massage the stinging flesh. A sharp hiss came out of you when you felt another slap on the opposite cheek; Jean once again repeated the process of massaging your ass cheeks. He's teasingly letting a coo tumble off his lips as you can only stutter out his name like a broken record.

"Just want to taste you real quick," His words were soft yet intimidating. He angled your body provocatively so you felt like such a filthy woman. "Just stay like that for me, please," he says before his callous fingertips are traced alongside your puffy lips. The teasing action caused your skin to be littered with goosebumps.

Once again, you desperately coughed up a yelp when you felt him slap at your throbbing cunt that was aching for his attention. The similar motion he did with your asscheek, Jean's multimillion-dollar massage at your pussy. This time, your wetness coated his fingers ever so negligibly. "You like it when I do that, huh?" He asked.

He didn't wait for you to respond before kneeling to taste you. The flat of his tongue collided with your puffy lips to lick up your juices formed just by his spankings. A weak whimper came out of you as you seemed to relax in his touch as he was eating you out. When Jean wanted to taste, he wanted to taste every fiber of you. Practically burying his face in the messiness between your thighs caused your toes to curl.

"Jean." You moaned out as you felt him glide his tongue up your slit. The lewd sound of him slurping up the mess he was making bounced off the bedroom walls. You could feel the sharpness of his nose poking you from the back; the man practically was devouring you at the moment. You were so close to breaking the perfect arch, but you knew what consequences were to come.

"Fuck." You moaned before you reached out, clawing at his sandy brown hair. Your fingers grabbed his hair as you rocked backward upon his kitten licks. Your orgasm was right there; you were so close to the finish line while your knees were growing hazy.

But Jean soon pulled away, letting your body fall limp like a deflated balloon that's lost all its air. Your poor cunt felt like it was pulsing, your orgasm was snatched away from you, and the lump of pleasurable despair disappeared.

"I can't have you cummin' just yet, baby girl," Jean commented. The little facial hair he had was stained with your juices. His upper lip lingered with your scent, and his tongue tasted like you. Maybe that made the man in a complete trance all over again.

His grey sweatpants grew tight at the crotch area. His dick was screaming to be released from the tight compress of his sweats and boxers. Jean quickly pushed down his sweats and stepped out of them like an over-enthusiastic virgin that was about to get a spliff of pussy for the first time. His blood was fuming, and he was still a bit frustrated by the loss. Especially considering the number of penalties he racked up during the game. His cock bulged in the black-colored Ethika boxers (another sponsorship he received for singing a multimillion-dollar contract) before he tugged them down also. His thick cock tapped at his toned torso when his boxers came down also.

Once again, he's grabbing onto you like a doll, dragging your whithering body toward the end of the bed. His hand firmly pushed your lower back to ensure your arch was perfect. It was a wonderful sight to see his beautiful wife completely exposed like this to him. A lovely ass up face-down position just so he can have his way with him.

You were anticipating for Jean to shove his cock inside you. Despite it being the same dick you've ridden, sucked, choked on, and the list goes on, you still found yourself chewing your lower lip off at adjusting to his girth. He was a grower for sure, with a slight curve that could kiss at that spot that caused your pedicures toes to curl. Your favorite part of his dick was his tip. It was a splendid sight when you would climb under the covers to suck him off when he complained about morning wood. It was a nice mushroom shape with a slit that gushed out so much cum when he wanted to.

"You know if you relax. You'll get used to it quicker." Jean suggested. With his slender digits climbing up the jersey, you had on to undo the bra you were wearing.

With quickness, you're removing your bra tossing it to the side with ease. Your hips bucking to receive any form of friction between Jean and yourself, but you could only feel his tip tap at your sopping entrance. "Don't be so fuckin' rude, and wait," Jean uttered as he grabbed a hold of his cock. He rubbed his tip at your entrance. Teasing you bit by bit before he's pooling all of the spit in his mouth and letting it drop down on his cock. His hand stroked his dick quickly before he once again was poking at your entrance.

"You want to make me feel better after that horrible game, right?" Jean questioned.

You only nodded as you were on all fours, your fingers grasping at the sheets below you before your mouth gasped apart, feeling him stretch you out. He didn't even wait until you adjusted to his huge size before he was pushing himself inside you like a madman. His hands grasping at your asscheeks just to feel upon you a little more. His thrusts weren't the usual slow and passionate filled; they were harsher. He was genuinely fucking you like he hated you. It was your fault that the team was two points short of going to the play for the Stanley Cup. You could only let out poor pathetic moans, moaning out for Jean.

"That's a good fuckin' girl; you're taking my dick so well," Jean uttered as his hips bucked forward into the plush of your ass. His eyes glowed excitedly at the sight of your pretty pussy, swallowing him with each thrust. The mixture of your wetness and the spit he coated on his coat was imprinted on your thighs like a nasty masterpiece.

He had one hand holding your back down while the other was grasping at the hockey jersey with his last name on it. He gripped the jersey severely to have some form of control over his brass thrusts. Ignoring your whimpers for him to slow down, or you would cum.

"Don't cum." Jean uttered out.

His words were more like a command, a dangerous warning you wanted to poke at until he exploded.

"Please Jean..." You whined into the pillow, which at this point was stained with your own drool and tears.

"What did I say, hm?" He questioned. His right hand slapped at your ass cheek causing you to let out a whine.

"Don't...cum," You hiccupped between moans.

Jean would only hum in agreement. His hips irrationally bottomed inside your dripping cunt before he pinned your arms behind your back. His tight grip on you caused you to chew at your lip as if it were some chew toy. "We'll cum together like it's supposed to fuckin' be," He commented.

You felt so lightheaded at the intense amount of stimulation upon your body. Your limbs felt like they were screaming for you to relax, and the burning sensation that was bubbling in the pit of your stomach was ready to burst.

Jean's hold he had on your folded arms only grew tight with each shove forward into your pussy. He could feel his balls grow heavy each time he tapped at that one spot that caused your eyes to cruise in the back of your head. Jean's eyes were shifted closed as he was so pussy drunk, the harsh groan that grumbled off the back of his neck caused his Adam's apple to move. His thick white cum filled you up to the brim as you moaned through the sensation. Jean brought the ends of his wifebeater up to his teeth, nibbling at the ends as he rocked you on his cock slowly. He could feel your pussy pulsing around his cock, milking him of every droplet of his cum. His brown hues practically glistened at the creamy sight of a white ring around his cock with each slow thrust.

When he pulled out slowly, letting the hold he had on you go and watching you collapse breathlessly on your stomach. His fingers combed through his hair, which seemed to stick to his forehead due to the intense workout.

"I feel much better now, baby, thank you."

[goodstuffhappenedtoday]

It seemed like it should be an easy win for Des Moines Superintendent Ian Roberts to dust off his racing shoes and compete against a team of elementary schoolers.

The 47-year-old Guyanese runner's skills had taken him around the globe, after all, even competing in the 2000 Summer Olympic Games in Sydney.

"I showed up to the school, and I'm waiting there. And I saw the principal and teachers and they brought the entire school out to the track. And I'm thinking, 'oh,'" Roberts recalled with a laugh.

What was initially going to be a race between Roberts and Everett Clark, a lucky second-grader who won the chance to race Roberts in a raffle, had grown as more students decided to join. Soon the student body flanked the track.

Roberts keeps himself in shape, running several miles, five to six days a week. Before the race, he ran drills with the students, teaching them how to stretch and showing them proper running form.

The day of the event, Roberts was in a maroon three-piece suit and a matching pair of tennis shoes. Roeder said the suit might have been a handicap, but the sneakers should have covered the gap.

As Roberts, the superintendent, sheepishly put it: "I decided, you know, I can do this in my suit. Why not? So here I am in my suit and my bow tie and some Nike Air Force One tennis shoes, and I felt that would be sufficient."

Instead, when the 100 meter dash began, Roberts saw how committed the students were to the race – and his eventual loss was all but decided.

It was fifth-grader Amayah Vilmael who sailed to victory, crossing the finish line with her eyes straight ahead as her former Olympian competition trailed steps behind.

"All of those students, especially Amayah, who – based on her form, based on her stride length – she definitely has a really promising career in track and field if she so chooses," Roberts said.

The superintendent has had a chance to speak with the parents of Amayah and Everett, and he said both of them are overjoyed to have gotten to race the former track and field star.

"Everett, for example, yesterday and even today, he is still walking around the house talking about his race. Amayah is still on cloud nine because she beat an Olympian," Roberts said.

"I am humbled and I stand proud in defeat to elementary school students, all of whom have very promising careers academically and athletically. And I will do it all over again if I can."

[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?

[nanaminsmoon]

𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫!𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐱 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

a/n: this has just been sat in the vaults for a month and i'm just in eren brainrot mode rn so here she is😁 also, i just imagined rapper!eren being like central cee. so just imagine him wearing a nike tech in every interaction lol.

cw: fingering, pnv, infidelity, mentions of breeding, finger sucking, eren calls reader; 'ma', 'my girl', 'baby', and i don't cosign homewrecking be respectful y'all😭

cw: 4590...

rapper!eren who tells you it was never meant to go this far, because it truly wasn't. it all started because you had similar music taste, so you understood the influence of his favourite artists (which happened to be your favourite artists) on his music.

you first met rapper! eren when you bumped into one another at the record store. he was a popular up and coming artist, so you somewhat recognised him but you couldn't pinpoint where from. you had been in the same section of the shop and he liked your outfit, thought you had great taste and, when you turned around, he saw that you were bad. so he sparked up a conversation with you. he was used to people pretending they didn’t know who he was just to get into his inner circle but, upon further conversation, he could tell that you really barely had any idea who he was. and, initially, that was a punch to his ego (because damn his music isn’t reaching baddies like that??), but he just decided it was for the best.

rapper!eren who called you after you gave him your number, which you found quite interesting because you barely knew each other and he was calling you before even texting you?? but you answered, and conversations about anything and everything meant that when you looked up from the doodle you had been focused on while talking to him, the small clock hand had moved forwards three numbers. saying you were ‘surprised’ by his depth makes it seem as though you expected him to be an idiot, but you were just taken aback by the way that every other word he said to you was an echo of the thoughts you had never gotten the chance to shout out into the world.

rapper!eren whose words had your cheeks heating up as they begun to ache from smiling at his flirtatious tone. honeyed syllables flowed into your ears, only just to run back out, slowly caressing your skin on its way down to the space between your legs. though not necessarily obscene, rapper!eren‘s words dirtied the scenes running in your mind, painting a packed gallery of lude images you wanted him to paint all over your body.

“did you just giggle?”, he chuckled over the phone, and you shook your head furiously as if he could see you.

“what? no!”, you sat up on your bed, the defence on your features evident to both you and the walls surrounding you. he wasn’t wrong, you did giggle. but you wouldn’t let him hear that admission. it felt slightly ridiculous, because you had only known him for a few weeks, but whenever you saw the name ’eren<;3’ appear on your phone, the muscle between your ribs would begin a high intensity workout. the effects manifesting themselves in the endorphins flying through your body, and the way he just made you feel…giddy.

calls started off as being once every few days. then it was once a day. then his name was painting your phone screen twice a day. then it became a few times a day; he would call you when he woke up, and you would try your best to not lose it over his morning voice, especially when he said shit like:

”i wish i could see you right now, i feel like you look cute in the morning. nah? i don’t believe that”.

you would call him on your commute, then you’d eat dinner together over facetime. then, once the sun set, every step in your night-time routine would be interrupted by rapper!eren’s inquisitons about literally everything: ”what’s that for?”, ”what does that do?”, ”your skin is perfect you don’t need all that.” and, soon, the texts began sprinkling themselves in between those calls; ’good morning’ texts, ’how’s your day goin?’ texts, ’show me your fit’ texts, ’facetime?’ texts, and ’you got time to call?’ texts.

then two, or so, months passed and you came to find out why the beginning of your relationship was mainly just calls: so it couldn’t be traced back to him. though he had your contact saved, he could always just delete your call logs, and you would have no way of proving that you actually spoke. this revelation struck you shortly after a tiktok came up on your foryoupage showing someone talking about rapper!eren and his rumoured girlfriend. said ‘rumoured’ girlfriend who really just looked like his actual girlfriend with the way his arm was slung around her shoulder, her hand reaching up to hold his, as he nuzzled his nose against her cheek. as soon as rapper!eren noticed the cameras, he peeled himself off of her and put his hands in his joggers. and, as pissed as you were, you could admit that the girl was cute; standing shorter than him, with short brown hair.

rapper!eren whose eyebrows met to screw in frustration at his calls and texts going unanswered. a part of him grew unreasonably pissed off when he kept calling you and kept getting sent to voicemail. at first, he assumed you were just busy so he just postponed his call because he knew what time you usually ate dinner, meaning he knew when you usually called him. but to make sure you weren’t still busy, he texted you and again, it was just ‘read’.

“what the fuck?”, he whispered at his phone screen as he sat in the back of the black suv. no matter what he tried, rapper!eren got no response and he didn’t know why that cut him so deep. he was inured to female attention so your replacement was nothing more than a dm away. but…he didn’t want to replace you. talking to you had become so pivotal to his day-to-day routine and he didn’t like that being taken away from him without him having a say. but after three days of dodging his calls, you finally texted him.

…: you have a gf?

rapper!eren: thats what this shit was about y/n?

…: this shit?? nigga you have a girlfriend tf you mean this shit??

rapper!eren: its more complicated than that

…: is it???

…: she’s either your gf or she isn’t how’s that complicated?

rapper!eren: dw abt it

rapper!eren: come to my studio tonite. got smth i wanna run by you

…: huh??

read.

rapper!eren who finally responded a few hours after that conversation. but, instead of the explanation you were looking for, you got sent an address and a message telling you that someone was on their way to come pick you up. you quickly texted rapper!eren your address, then you had just half an hour to get ready. had this been a week ago, you would’ve done a bit more; matching underwear and all. but instead, you just decided to keep it cute but simple—both your outfit, and your makeup.

you got a text telling you to make your way outside and when you did, you were met with a black suv with tinted windows. as weird as it looked, the driver asking for your name reassured you and you got in. the drive to the address was silent. it was just you and the driver in there, and he didn’t even spare you a glance once you got in the car, so you were just left with your thoughts. and they made it a very gruelling 30 minute journey. once you arrived at the building, the driver took you to the door, where you were met with rapper!eren‘s manager. that’s when you found out that the building was where rapper!eren‘s studio was.

rapper!eren who sat alone behind a translucent door, looking down at his phone until his manager opened the door. you hadn’t seen him in person since the first time you met and, knowing what you now knew, your heart was at the pit of your stomach. so your first few moments there were spent stood, abashedly, at the door. an unreadable smirk braced his face at your appearance, before he made his way to hug you. being polite, you hugged him back. and those nasty wasps in your stomach were mixing with butterflies. you hated it to say it, but you were attracted to rapper!eren and the strong smell of his aftershave was enough to drive the butterflies in your stomach to migrate to the space between your legs. but, at some point, their wings would be clipped by the fact that the man had a girlfriend.

rapper!eren who noticed you looking a little skittish, and moved to stroke your arm to calm you down but you just looked at him blankly so he moved away. the weird feeling in your stomach had yet to go away, and it only grew once you looked around and saw that the only lights on were red LED lights, and a few candles placed on random tables.

“you drink?”, rapper! eren picked up a bottle of expensive looking red wine and two big wine glasses.

“not with men who have girlfriends, no.”, you quipped, taking your hoodie off, and putting it on the sofa.

rapper! eren who really did call you there to ask you about something because he had made a new song, and he wanted to see how you liked it. no one else knew what his vision was but, having similar music taste, he knew you would. but the second your hoodie came off, his intentions wavered. at that very moment, he could feel the very thing he had been trying to bury for the past few days, making his dick twitch in his joggers. making it infinitely harder to ignore—if he even wanted to do that anymore.

rapper! eren whose eyes glimmered at the sight of you thoroughly enjoying his song, even giving him real feedback that he knew would make the song better. you were sat by his laptop and the way your knees would touch whenever you moved to the beat did not go neglected. despite your prior apprehensions, he had poured you both some red wine, and you were slowly making your way through your glasses. mid-conversation, he caught you staring at his chains. especially the pendant with his name on it; bussed down and twinkling even under the minimal lighting.

“you like ‘em?”, he looked down at his chest, smirking, and you nodded at him.

“are they heavy?”, you giggled. that chain was thick but the pendant on it looked like it had some weight on it too.

rapper! eren‘s answer wasn’t verbal, instead he just reached behind his neck and took it off, holding it toward you,

“try it on”, he said, quietly and you shook your head. the man had a girlfriend why was he drinking with you, and asking you to put his chain on??

“nah, bro, that’s too far. you’ve got a gir—”, you began, and rapper! eren rolled his eyes as he got up from his chair,

“first off, she’s not here. second, don’t call me ‘bro’. that’s what my boys call me.”, he stood, looking down at you, obviously waiting for you to stand up. your guilt only grew, to subside again, as you got up. and then he stepped closer. you were sat pretty close before, but now the tips of your shoes were meeting. then he leaned forward and reached behind you to put his chain on you. once it hung around your neck, you got the answer to your question; it was heavy.

lost in observation, you hadn’t even realised the way rapper! eren‘s hands hadn’t left your body, they had just changed locations. they moved from the back of your neck, to your cheeks where he held you to face him. fuck. this man was fine. yes, you felt bad but she was purring. you didn’t know his girl so what loyalties did you have to her? and plus, who are you to judge other people’s relationships? maybe she’s okay with him cheating…

you knew damn well you were just being selfish, but that didn’t stop you from moaning into rapper! eren‘s mouth once his lips collided with yours. the way the baby, blue shimmer of the diamonds bounced off the gloss on your lips made them impossible to ignore. they were just asking for rapper! eren to mess them up, and replace the sheen with the one provided by his saliva. this wasn’t the first time he had cheated on his girlfriend; he was surrounded by beautiful women who wanted him every single day, and he had the self control of a dog who hadn’t been fed in weeks. but this time felt like more than just kissing, rapper! eren didn’t want anyone else to have you. and he hadn’t realised that until he saw you with his name shining around your neck.

the slow, fervent kiss grew haste when rapper! eren‘s hands started moving to grip anything he could through your dress. soon, you were straddling him on the black leather sofa, slowly grinding on him as he pushed you down onto the tent forming in his grey nike tech. naturally, your dress began to hike up your body, and rapper! eren aided its trek by pulling it up so the end of the dress was lightly pecking the top of your black lace thong. it was at this point that rapper! eren knew that there was no going back for him; if he didn’t fuck you now, he would be dreaming about it until he did.

his lips did not leave you once—moving from your own to your cheeks, jaw, neck, chest. his hand laid on your clothed tit, the other being pulled out from under your dress, and quickly covered by his swollen pink lips. the way his tongue swirled around your nipple had you throwing your head back, your hips not stopping once. veins that once transported blood became the primary vehicle for the pleasure he was providing you, you hadn’t even noticed his hand moving to the space between your legs. slipping your thong aside, he began rubbing circles on your clit.

“’ren, p-please”, you whined, breathlessly. thoughts weren’t connecting properly anymore, so you didn’t even know what you were pleading for. you just felt the need to say something.

“w-wait, please”, you breathed out, and he hummed against whatever skin he was kissing at that point, you really didn’t know anymore. your entire body was on fire, so it all just felt like one big sensation.

“i am waiting, ma”, rapper! eren cooed, “there’s a lot more i wanna be doing right now.”, he nipped your other breast that he had alternated to at some point, and you knew he would leave a mark. and that’s exactly what he wanted.

a few minutes passed before rapper! eren inserted his middle and ring finger inside you. shivers ran a marathon all over your body as his bussed down star ring grazed your thigh, while he pumped his tattooed digits in and out of you. all the while, rapper! eren‘s eyes never left your face; the glistering jades illuminated every feature on you—your moistened pert nipples, your bleary gaze, and your parted lips. your drool mixing with his saliva still on them.

it didn’t take long for you to cum all over his fingers, trembling and cantillating his name into the space around the both of you. no part of your body could handle that wave once it washed over you, the tide pulling your forehead onto his chest, that was heaving almost as deeply as yours was. you hadn’t done much, but rapper! eren was so turned on by the fact that he was making you feel good. but even knowing that, his fingers didn’t relent.

once you were able to lift your heavy eyelids, and open your eyes, you saw a space grey patch on rapper! eren ‘s light grey tech, and that aroused a small panic in your stomach.

“’ren, s-stop”, you began, and as soon as that word left your mouth, his fingers stilled. a billion thoughts raced through his mind; maybe you’d changed your mind, maybe it didn’t feel good anymore. but when he found out that it was just because you didn’t want to get his tech wet, he chortled at how cute you were, and stroked your teary cheek with the hand that wasn’t pumping in and out of you again.

“you think i care if people know how wet my girl gets when she’s with me?”, he spoke onto the skin on your neck. fuck. you hated how good it felt to be called that, but you couldn’t stop the way you clenched around his fingers at that nickname. the same nickname that belonged to another woman.

“you like that? me calling you ‘my girl’?”, rapper! eren teased, lifting your chin when you tried to evade eye contact, “you want me to fuck you with my chain ‘round your neck? make you mine for real?”, his hand was wrapped around the top of your neck to hold your chin in place, and you just nodded furiously. fighting your need for him was futile, so you would give in now and regret this later.

confirmation received, rapper! eren picked you up and placed you on the sofa on your back, lips still glued on your neck. it wasn’t until he paused momentarily to take off his hoodie and shirt that you realised where things were going and panic returned. you placed your manicured fingers flat on his chest, providing a bit of resistance as your head shook slightly. but you didn’t say anything, simply hoping the look in your eyes would communicate everything your mouth couldn’t.

“your girlfriend”, you spoke, voice barely above a whisper. and rapper! eren moved closer to your face, meeting your lips. then he spoke against them,

“tell me you don’t want this, and i’ll stop”, he told you sincerely and you stammered, words failing you once again. or, really, you failing yourself because there were no words you could string together to hide the way you wanted needed this man to fuck you until you started crying. you’d heard the stories, you’d heard the song lyrics, and there was no smoke without fire. so you wrapped yourself up in a fire blanket and walked straight into the blazing heat. you shook your head at him, and reached for the bulge poking you in your stomach. and he smiled down at you before kissing you again and pulling back to get condoms from a drawer next to the sofa.

rapper!eren whose mind could barely grasp the concept of anything that wasn’t how tight you would feel around him. at this point in time, he didn’t know where he was anymore, nor did he care. the faint sounds of people talking in the hallways outside his studio were hushed static compared to the soft whines escaping your lips. you were desperate; this man had thrown a lasso around you, pulled you into his orbit, and then was just tangling you in front of himself. almost as if he was teasing himself—placing you in front of his face, legs wide open, yet not doing anything to close the faucet responsible for his leaking, throbbing, pink tip. but only rapper!eren knew that the reason for his eyes sprinting across your body, unbothered by the finish line, was because he didn’t know where to start with you. he had stripped you of your dress; he didn’t plan on doing so originally, but he needed to see your tits bounce as he fucked you so it had to come off. but now that you were whining underneath him—spit sliding down the corners of your mouth, making its way down onto the sides of your neck as you sucked on his tatted fingers, eyes locked with his own, he didn’t know what to do with you. your eyes had rendered him paralysed; yes, he may have been on top of you, but you were in control. He was on his knees for you, literally! he was on his knees on the sofa, with his legs caging one of your own.

rapper!eren who, as mesmerised as he was, remembered that he couldn’t just gawk at you forever so he positioned himself at your entrance. looking at you before he put it in, he saw a smirk painted on your face,

“nervous?”, you teased, and he scoffed at you. all it took was for his tip to softly poke your entrance, for you to cry out his name. if he was in his right mind, he might’ve given you shit for how quickly you were eating your own words. but all he could think about was how he hadn’t even done anything and you were already falling apart underneath him.

“fuck.”, he breathed out as he looked at his dick, still visible between your legs.

rapper!eren was a very sought after man, women wanting him did not surprise him. but you moaned his name like you needed him. like you were flirting with the brink of insanity every single second his dick wasn’t deep in your guts. and, rapper!eren may have been a very unloyal man, but he was very possessive. and there was nothing he hated more than people fucking with what’s his. so he would rip you from the hands of insanity, and fuck you until the afterglow was so prominent that everyone would know to go nowhere near you.

“just wait for me, baby, yeah? I’m right here”.

rapper!eren who lets out a deep sigh as soon as he starts pushing himself inside you, his eyeballs exploring the back of their sockets when he felt how tight you were. he had been intent on watching you take him in, inch by inch (all 8 of them), as he sheathed himself into you. but how wet you were was making him delirious. it felt like you were tightening around him with every half an inch that you took of him. probably because you were. everything was hitting you all at once, and your body was just reacting without even consolting you. it was how sexy he was, the sound of his heavy breathing, low moans hitting your ear. bitch it felt like you were doing the damn tiktok kegel exercises.

from what you had barely seen earlier through your drenched eyelashes, you knew that there would be a lot of rapper!eren to take in. but it seemed like the man was just never ending. when you thought he was fully inside you, he would push some more and you would feel yourself stretch around him. it wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable, just a lot to get used to. so your arms were reaching across his back, scratching slightly as he bottomed out inside of you.

deep sighs and whiny protests soon became blissful incantations of pleasure leaving your lips to hit rapper!eren‘s bare shoulder. his tatted fingers were digging into the fat surrounding your hips, waist, anything he could reach. not too long after you two began fucking, his manager had opened the door to ask if he was ready to go. but, when he opened the door to the soundproof studio and saw you two fucking on the sofa, he figured rapper!eren had some loose ends to tie up before he left to go to his hotel. neither of you had noticed because you were too busy focusing on the sweet words leaving this man’s mouth, as well as his chains hitting your skin. no soul would’ve guessed that this man’s pen game was crazy with the fucked out nonsense he was spewing on whatever skin he was kissing at the time.

”imma fuck you so good nobody’s gonna be good enough f’r you. hm? you want that? fuck, if I wasn’t so stupid(?) i’d fuck a baby in you. i promise you. this pussy’s so fucking tight, i don’t even care anymore. i got money, i could take care of a kid. you wan’ it? you wan’ me to just get you pregnant? let everyone call you my baby mama? you’re a slut you know that, yeah? just wan’ my nut leaking outta you? fuck, y/n, you’re gonna get me in trouble.”

rapper!eren whose fingers teased your clit, slow and gentle as if he wasn’t pounding into you with reckless abandon on some small sofa in his studio. but the few seconds that those two fingers sped up on your little bud of nerves were enough to have you drenching his lower abdomen, and fingers. too lost in the moment, he had forgotten to taste you earlier, so he put his fingers in his mouth and he rolled his tongue around them. the taste of you in his mouth dropped his eyelids, his hips moving faster and faster as your arousal coated his tastebuds.

rapper!eren who couldn’t remember the last time he was that turned on by anyone. his hips were moving on their own, rushing to get that release. he wanted to hold it, because he wanted to give you round after round after round and he wanted you to cum, at least, one more time before he did so himself. if it were up to him, he would pick you up and take you into the booth and fuck you in there so he could get some adlibs for his next song. but he just couldn’t do it.

“i’ll—fuck—i’ll make it up to you. i swe—shit”, he quickly pulled out of you, and scrambled to take his condom off. his hand managed one stroke on his dick before his nut spurted all over your chest, specks finding themselves on your chin. before the last droplets of his release dripped onto your stomach.

once he finished, rapper!eren pulled back and, as his eyes regained focus, he was just mesmerised by you. eyes barely opening, bodily fluids all over you, but his chain remained proud at the centre of your chest. he had to take his phone out and take a few pictures of you just like that. spurts of his cum acted as an adhesive, sticking his name onto your heart. yeah, he wasn’t letting you go now. he didn’t know how to feel about the cum splattered on his chain, but he just settled on getting a new one and just letting you keep that one. how he would explain that to his girlfriend, he had no fucking clue but he would figure something out…

after he took you to a hotel suite and made up for nutting quicker than he had hoped…by fucking you senseless:))

© Rights owned by nanaminsmooninc. Do not repost without permission.

[magicalqueennightmare]

One Question Answered

Elijah Mikaelson x Reader

You've been avoiding Elijah since he healed you so he tracks you down but not for the reason you assume

The one side effect of Elijah healing you was that you had no excuse to stay away from the Mikaelson compound. You didn't want to drag any of them into your fight, yeah logically it made little sense to not step back and let them handle it but this was your fight. You had brought this chaos down onto the hunting community because the one thing you'd yet to even tell Rebekah was the mastermind behind trying to form a squadron of people for hire out of hunters was your ex.

You were in Marcel’s gym, something he'd worked out with Bek. It was a little crazy considering you'd been attacked by humans to be working out surrounded by vampires with earbuds in but here you were. Music blasted as you landed punch after punch on one of the heavy bags. You had people tracking Evan. He'd be found and if you cut the head off the snake that should work.

You had to show patience but the longer he was out there poisoning people against decent hunters the better a chance someone got hurt and that person may not have an original vampire ready to feed them blood to speed up the process.

You'd avoided direct conversation with both Elijah and Klaus. Klaus was simple enough to avoid, offer of a decent bourbon warmed the hybrid out of conversation. Kol would let it go when you said you would ask for help if you couldn't handle it.

Rebekah was pissed you'd lied to her initially about why you needed your Nova put into storage for a while and even more pissed you wouldn't give names to who had attacked you. Elijah, well he was even worse. You weren't sure what had changed between the two of you but the last couple weeks had been tense to say the least.

When you couldn't manage to avoid him he would of course question if you were ready to tell him who'd hurt you. More than once he'd cursed your tattoo and it's warding for taking away his ability to compel you into telling him.

When you'd accused him of not respecting boundaries he'd rebutted that it wasn't crossing boundaries to make an attempt to keep you safe. That had been days ago. You'd steered clear of the compound choosing to see Rebekah somewhere else or not at all.

—--------------

The only reason you were at Marcel's gym was because it was the only place nearby you could walk into to work off stress with no questions being asked as to why you were there.

You weren't sure where your head was but when someone pulled your earbud out of your left ear you spun around mid punch. Elijah seemed slightly amused as he easily grabbed your fist before it could make contact with his jaw “Decent hit considering” you narrowed your eyes at him and it was only then you'd noticed the gym was empty.

“What are you doing here Elijah? Rebekah said you were out of town” he shrugged almost innocently “I assumed the best way to get your guard down was to make you think I wasn't in town. You've been avoiding me it seems” you moved your hand which was still in his “Can I have this back?” He smirked slightly “Are you going to try to run to not talk to me because we both know I can catch you”

You shrugged “Why would I run when I know for a fact it would be useless” he finally let go of your hand and gave your earbud back. You took it and turned to your bag that was sitting on the floor nearby. “Well I'm not running and you wanted to talk” you spoke over your shoulder as you squatted down to put your earbuds in their case. You stood up and faced him before starting to unwrap your hands. You suddenly felt out of place standing there in an oversized shirt and Nike leggings while he was of course dressed impeccably.

His eyes roamed across your body and you felt heat rise to your face, your heart pounding in your ears. He had a habit of making you forget when you were supposed to be putting room between the two of you “I'm not here to pursue the conversation of who attacked you. I trust that should you get in over your head you'll ask for assistance”

—-----------

Elijah relished the moments he managed to render you speechless. From the moment he'd met you the ability to seemingly always have a retort waiting was something he admired about you. Even when you were uncomfortable in a situation or nervous you hid it well.

Now, watching you standing in front of him fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, he had the urge to say anything he could to make your heart race again. The sound was music to his ears. “Then what are you here for Elijah?”

He smiled slightly “While I'm not here to discuss that matter I am here for a different one” your eyes narrowed at his words, distrust clear on your face but another emotion showed there also. You were trying to hide your attraction to him but he could see it. The way your eyes tracked him, how your heartbeat increased if he touched you even innocently. It intrigued him to no end. Many years had passed since a woman demanded his attention in this way.

“Considering you wouldn't answer my calls I thought I'd try my luck face to face. Would you accompany me to dinner?”

—--------------

Did Elijah just ask you out? No, there was no way. He must have meant dinner with his siblings or another ball he wanted a plus one for. “What do you mean?” You asked rather lamely, wishing you were wearing anything besides your workout clothes with your hair up in a lazy braid.

He gave you that smile that made your stomach flip. Damn he was gorgeous. “My darling little hunter, will you go on a date with me? Was that plain enough to make my intentions clear?”

Could a brain really short circuit? Had it not been that you knew for certain that the blood Elijah had given you had indeed cured you of any of your injuries you would've been certain the taser had caused brain damage. Who knew maybe it had? “Intentions clear” you finally spoke after a moment, feeling your head spin a bit.

“Is that a yes or a no?” He asked, causing a nervous laugh to slip out from you. What was your life at this point? You nodded slowly “That's a yes Elijah. I'd love to but can I ask one thing because of something Kol and Rebekah both said”

“Which is?” He asked a bit cautiously at the mention of his younger siblings. You knew you should probably let it go but this question had been weighing on you along with the Evan situation. “They said blood sharing was a thing, like vamps didn't do it lightly and that you normally would only open a vein to save one of them. So why heal me? Why willingly give me a part of you when my injuries weren't life threatening?”

He crossed the space between the two of you, raising a hand to cup your face much the same way he had when he'd healed you and it took everything in you to not turn into his touch. His dark eyes bore into you and yet again you found your heart racing “Because seeing you injured and in pain infuriated me. Someone hurt you and had you not already lived a life filled with resiliency those injuries may very well have been life threatening. If spilling some of my blood spares you pain I'll gladly do it however many times it's necessary”

You swallowed hard before saying “Still doesn't answer why. I'm nothing special. I could be replaced a thousand times over” he shook his head, his fingers lightly lifting your chin where you had no choice but to look him square in the eye. His eyes flicked down to your lips as he spoke “I have met many people who may have been expandable, you however are not. That's why I healed you, there was no other option”

Was it lust, attraction or pure stupidity that made you close the space between you and him? The moment your lips brushed against his you could feel the tension that had long since hung in the air between the two of you threaten to burst.

One of his hands went to the back of your head holding you in place while his other went to your hip, fingertips almost bruising with how close he pulled you to him. Your hands went to his shoulders, trying to find something to ground yourself as heat washed straight through you. A light moan fell from your lips into his as he angled his head to deepen the kiss, tongue dancing across yours.

Your fingers found the back of his head, desperately tugging at the carefully styled locks. He groaned into your mouth and you felt a fresh wave of desire hit you. His hands went down to your thighs easily lifting you into his arms. You gladly wrapped your legs around his waist, never breaking free from his lips even if your lungs were beginning to burn with the need for air.

He moved across the room, bracing your back against one of the mats that lined the wall as he broke free from your lips. Your chest was heaving as he continued his assault down your jaw to your neck. You felt your heart jump when he gently nipped at the sensitive flesh of your neck, causing your back to arch off the wall pushing you into him which caused his body to react,he shifted his hips against yours. The feeling alone was enough to pull a deep moan from you. Your hands went under his jacket, fingers digging into his shoulders through the soft material of his shirt.

The sound of two throats clearing causing you and Elijah to break away from each other. You glanced over his shoulder to see Rebekah and Marcel standing in the entryway of the gym. “I had no clue you two were talking again” Rebekah greeted cheerfully as if she hadn't just walked in on you and one of her brothers.

You groaned lightly as Elijah buried his face in the skin at the bend of your neck. Seeing him so damn disheveled and knowing you were the cause was enough to make any woman have a strange surge of pride. You grinned at Rebekah over his shoulder before he leaned up to place a chaste kiss to your lips before lowering you to the ground.

Both of you quickly rearranged whatever clothing was out of place before turning to face the newcomers. Rebekah was barely containing her laughter. “I'll see you at nine?” You asked and he smirked slightly “I'll see you at nine”

You watched him walk out and looked at Rebekah “Not a word” Marcel chuckled as he walked further into the gym “Never thought I'd see Elijah so worked up over a human and he picks a hunter”

Rebekah shook her head at Marcel then looked back at you “So I'm assuming that display means you're now dating my brother?” You shrugged, still a little dazed “I have a date with him” she smiled brightly “Brilliant. Let's go shopping for you a new outfit then”

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