#( abt. || broken glass broken hearts
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hiii can I request some fluff with puppy reader and Price pleaseeeee
(injury & comfort)
Price comes home to find reader with a bloody bandage around her fingers and palm from accidentally dropping a glass of water. she’s so desperate to clean it, scared he would get mad at her but he actually doesn’t gaf abt the mess and just wants to take care of his sweetheart 😓🙏
poor puppy girl who stands in front of the bathroom sink, tears blurring her vision as she desperately tries to wash away the blood. bandages are already set out, a trashbag full of broken glass and bloody tissues sitting in the corner of the room.
heart beating quickly, the feeling of fear almost making you choke. your hands are shaky as you dry them, the towel spotting bright red now. you don't even notice as price enters the house, door as he approaches, hands reaching for your wrists.
his heart breaks as you yelp, teary eyes wide and scared. you look so little, vulnerable. "shhh, s'okay puppy. show me." his voice is soft and rumbly, but still has the undertone of dominance that makes you instantly obey.
your hands tremble as you let him take them, blood still slowly seeping from the cut. "sorry, m so sorry, didn't- didn't mean to make a mess. I tried to clean the glass up, im sorry-"
he cuts you off, kissing the cut on your finger. prices eyes are soft and warm as they meet yours. "you're okay sweetheart. youre not in trouble love, just an accident." he pulls you tight, back against his chest.
he talks you through it, describing each step he goes through as he bandages your hand. he knows the deep rasp of his voice calms you, providing both comfort and distraction.
he uses the bandaids he specifically bought for you. brightly coloured with your favourite character on them.
once he's done, price turns you around. one big arm wraps around your back, the other tangling in your hair as he pulls you close. he gently shushes you, letting you feel the rhythm of his breath, breathe in the musk and cigar scent that clings to him.
"never need to apologise for living sweetheart. would never be mad over an accident," he kisses the side of your head, "you're safe here, I've got you sweet girl. such a good pup for trying to clean it up, m'sorry you got hurt baby,"
he smiles softly as you finally relax, unable to resist the warmth and warmth he radiates, "my precious girl. so, so good f'me."
#firm beliver that owner price thinks his girl can do no wrong#she could burn the house down and he'd just 🤷♂️#sorry if this doesnt hit 😭#mw2 x reader#captain price x reader#price x reader#john price x reader#price x puppygirl#price x female reader#female reader#price x chubby!puppygirl
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LESLIE HIII i hope you’re doing okay!! + sorry it’s taken me so long to stop by </3
as a request i wanted to ask abt the prompt “stay there. i’m coming to get you.” from the second prompt list with either minghao or wonwoo if that’s okay!! 🫶🫶
A/N: OKAY SO @wqnwoos I know this was requested forever ago from a prompt game and I'm so sorry it took so long, but I was super inspired yesterday after I saw ur post saying "my heel broke" and I messaged u asking if you were okay because OMG your HEEL broke are you OKAY??? but turns out you meant your shoe broke not your actual heel and, well... here we are. Whatever the heck this is.
Pairing: Wonwoo x Reader
Genre: slight crack?, established relationship
Rating: PG (only because I think there's a swear?)
Word Count: 1.4k
Request Prompt: "stay there. i'm coming to get you."
Warnings: like one kiss?, I think there's swearing maybe, expensive things being broken if that triggers u, also reader wears heels
You can't believe it.
So many times, you’d gazed longingly at the expensive new shoes you’d splurged on, sitting pretty in their box, wondering when you’d finally pluck up the courage to wear them. You weren’t one for spending big unless it was technology or something you’d use often, but you’d been eyeing these heels for what felt like forever. When your birthday rolled around, you’d finally done it, but then they’d sat in their box for months – until tonight.
You’d only just arrived at the restaurant to meet your friends when you’d taken one wrong step, and the heel on your right shoe had broken completely off. You’d tripped and thankfully been steadied by your friend’s arm, so you’d been left physically unscathed… but you felt the pain elsewhere. In your wallet. How the hell had that happened so quickly?
Your friend managed to fish a pair of flats out from their trunk, so you were grateful for that at least. You tried to laugh and play it off as a joke, as a funny story to remember with your friends in a few years, but truthfully? You were pretty bummed. You’d saved for those shoes for ages. So here you sat, nursing a glass of water as you listened to your friends chat animatedly around you. You were having a good time, you were, but you couldn’t help but wallow in your feelings just a little bit. You really couldn’t believe your luck.
You felt the buzz of your phone from inside your purse, eyeing it as you took another sip of water, before glancing around the table. Your friend group had a rule not to be on your phones very much when you were together, but you figured you were safe to have a quick peek while your friend recapped her many failed dates over the last month.
Wonwoo ❤️: how’s your evening going?
You felt your heart jump a little at the sight of your boyfriend’s name on your screen. You wondered if that would ever change, but you didn’t think so. You adored him. You’d been told the honeymoon phase would pass, but it had been well over a year and the two of you were still going strong. Wonwoo would object if you ever said it to anyone else, but the two of you were just as lovey-dovey as when you’d first started dating.
Exhibit A: him texting you to ask a very obvious question. You’re pretty well-versed in Wonwoo, and you know what his text actually means: it means that he misses you.
YN: not the best, tbh… I broke my heel 😭
The reply comes not even a minute later.
Wonwoo ❤️: are you okay??
YN: I’m so sad 😭
You jump a little when your friend nudges you with their foot, raising their eyebrows pointedly at your phone. You teasingly roll your eyes and oblige, sliding your phone back into your purse and tuning back into your friends’ story. You can’t help but feel a bit better after a couple of texts from Wonwoo, and you aren’t embarrassed about it in the slightest.
Not even a half hour and some entrees later, another friend is in the process of regaling tales about her horrific boss when the door to the restaurant opens, and you spot him. You do a double take as your eyes meet, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion, and he seems to freeze in place for a second.
You take in the sight of your boyfriend: his glasses are askew, his hair disheveled, and you think he must have thrown on whatever hoodie and sweats combo he could find laying around in a hurry. He hovers by the door as he stares at you, blinking, and your mind begins to race. Why is he here? Is everything okay? Wonwoo is never one to draw attention to himself if he can help it – which just makes this whole thing even more confusing.
“Hey,” you interrupt quietly, causing all heads to turn towards you. “Wonwoo’s here. Give me a second?”
Your friends all nod in unison, and you can feel them watching as you stand up and make your way over to the door. As soon as you reach him, your hand is automatically searching for his, gently tugging him through the door and back out into the cold.
“Babe,” you say hastily as soon as you’re around the corner and out of sight. “What’s wrong?” Your hand leaves his so that both of yours can run over his arms, his biceps, his shoulders, giving him a frantic once-over to make sure he’s physically alright. When your hands cup his jaw, he finally moves his hands to cover yours, lowering them down to hold them in between you.
“You’re not hurt?”
Your eyebrows furrow in confusion as you stare back at him. “Huh?”
His eyes wander over your face, brows still furrowed in what you affectionately like to call his Thinking Face, before he moves back to look down at your feet. “You can walk fine?”
You are so confused. “Yes, Wonwoo, what? Babe, did you run here?”
You watch as he tilts his head, still thinking for what feels like forever – and then his lips twitch up at the sides. He suddenly looks embarrassed as his gaze falls from yours, but he’s smiling, a hand leaving one of yours to lift and cover his face.
You are so confused.
“I didn’t run here,” he finally answers, his hand falling away from his face, “but I definitely may have gone over the speed limit to get to you faster.”
“Why?” You ask, incredulous. You still have no idea what’s going on.
“YN," he says, voice laced with amusement. "I texted that I was on my way. You said your heel broke."
You blink once, twice, before it suddenly dawns on you. “Oh my god, Wonwoo –”
“Yeah.” He's smiling so wide that his eyes are crescent moons, and you're smiling, too – and then he begins to laugh.
You can’t help but join in.
He pulls you into his chest, and you can feel him laughing against you. It’s a quiet laughter, but you’re grateful no one can see the two of you where you stand outside the restaurant, because you’re sure you both look insane. You don’t care, though, because all you can think about is how fast he’d tried to get to you because he thought you were hurt.
Your heart swells from its place in your chest, so full of affection for the man in front of you that you can feel it all over. You pull back, your hands finding either side of his jaw to pull him in for a quick kiss, and you can tell he’s pleasantly surprised by the way his cheeks tinge pink. Neither of you really have a thing for PDA, but you couldn't help it, not when you felt like you were so full of affection you could burst.
“You are such a loser,” is what you say, but you know he can translate it. I love you is what you mean, and he knows.
“I panicked,” Wonwoo laughs, running a hand through his hair as he laces his fingers with yours. “Sorry about your shoe, though.”
You wave your free hand in the air as he slowly walks you towards the restaurant door again. “I’ll deal with it later.”
He glances in through the glass when you reach it, giving your hand a squeeze. “How much longer?”
You beam at that, lifting your hand up to gently brush some hair off of his forehead. “Not much, if I can help it. I miss you too much.”
“It’s been like two hours," he says, as though he isn't clinging onto your fingers in his with everything he's got.
“Okay, Mr. I’m-going-to-rush-to-my-girlfriend’s-aid-even-though-she-only-has-a-broken-shoe–”
“Bye,” Wonwoo says abruptly, and you giggle. “Love you,” he murmurs, catching you by surprise, but you don't miss a beat. You simply squeeze his hand, and say the words back.
Later that night when you check your phone, you giggle to yourself as you see the two messages you'd missed from Wonwoo, sent directly after the others at dinner:
Wonwoo ❤️: stay there
Wonwoo ❤️: I’m coming to get you
And another, timestamped an hour later, when he was back home and on your couch:
Wonwoo ❤️: I’d do it again :)
A/N: lmao this is like. super not proofread but it was rlly fun to write so if you enjoy please reblog! remember that reblogs help way more than just likes for writers :')
TAGLIST: @dejavernon @minisugakoobies @starsstuddedsky @hopeinthebox @tae-bebe @eoieopda @savventeen
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#jww x reader#seventeen fluff#seventeen x reader#wonwoo x reader#wonwoo x you#seventeen fic#wonwoo fluff#wonwoo fic#my writing#seventeen imagine#jwwficrecs#jwwfic
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home is where the heart is
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✦ pairing: bada lee x fem!reader
✦ summary: new to seoul in search of revitalizing opportunities, you're excited to see what the city has in store for you. however, after numerous awkward encounters with your (hot) neighbor and other unfortunate circumstances, you start to doubt whether this move was right for you.
✦ genre/au: fluff, smut MDNI!!, neighbor!au, accidentally turned into a coffeeshop!au as well. maybe some slight angst?
✦ word count: 14k
✦ warnings: probably has grammatical/spelling errors. switch!bada and switch!reader?? sort of?? y/n has a toy collection that could probably contribute to the production of toy story 5.
✦ a/n: initially really liked this story. then, i sat on it for three days, and now I'm not really a fan of this? i also feel like i forgot to how to write? hope yall still enjoy though! i have a few ideas I'm rlly excited abt anyway <3
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The elevator lobby echoes with the shuffling of your feet and the thud of the cardboard box shifting within your grasp. Your new apartment complex seems to grow larger with each step, the space stretching endlessly as you aim for one of the metal doors. The box, marked “fragile,” presses into your arms, and beads of sweat drip down your forehead as you internally curse at yourself for your excessive overpacking and stubbornness.
You don’t know who or what made you believe you were capable of doing this move entirely by yourself, but you are now facing the consequences for past you's groundless self-confidence. As you take a step forward, your arms wobble under the strain, and the box slips precariously, threatening to escape your grasp. You tighten your grip, determined not to let the flimsy box defeat you. You were not going to let a box labeled fragile, of all things, be the reason for your demise. No way.
While attempting to steady yourself, you vaguely hear a loud ping reverberate throughout the lobby. Like the easily hyperfixated person you are, you pay no mind to it, focusing only on the task at hand. The last thing you need is to drop the box and have its contents shatter against the floor. You would never forgive yourself.
Just as you pause to readjust the box, the elevator door opens, and footsteps follow it. A tall, dark-haired woman with bangs stumbles into the opening, her phone in her hands. She stops in her tracks, clearly distracted, and you foolishly walk straight into her.
The box falls from your grasp, and as it plummets to the ground, you have an out-of-body experience. This was it. The box is going to hit the ground, and you will have lost this uphill battle. In slow motion, you watch the box tilt backward and forwards, suspended in midair for what seems like forever until, suddenly, you feel your hand wrap around it. As you blink away the stars clouding your vision, you register that you've saved the box from certain doom, just barely. A sigh of relief escapes your lips.
A triumphant smile graces your lips as you clutch the box tightly. It’s a bit more crumpled than before, but it is still very much in one piece (ignoring the fact that the fragile item inside the box was most definitely broken). Gravity was no match for your superior reflexes.
As you look up, your smile falters. Your eyes widen, and you feel heat rise to your cheeks. You just ran into the most beautiful woman you have ever seen, and she is staring at you. Her eyes, framed by thick-rimmed glasses, gaze at you, wide and unblinking. She looks at you as if you were the most embarrassing thing she has ever seen, and it takes all your willpower not to turn around and run back down the hall.
Her long, dyed black hair hangs in a braid down her shoulder. Her outfit consists of a plain, oversized black t-shirt, baggy pants, and a pair of worn nikes. The only pops of color are the bright yellow socks poking out from underneath the white shoes, and the streaks of blonde in her hair.
"Oh, my god, I am so sorry!" you finally manage, stumbling over your words. "I should've been paying attention to where I was going."
The woman seems to snap out of her daze with a vigorous shake of her head. "No, no, it's fine. Don't worry about it," she responds with a small laugh. Her voice is light and melodic, and the sound makes your heart skip a beat. She glances down at her phone, and a slight frown creases her forehead. "I wasn't watching where I was going either."
You give a small, awkward chuckle in response, but you feel your nerves ease a little. She didn't seem weirded out, thank the stars.
She glances down at the box, and her eyes widen as if she is just noticing its existence.
"Here, let me help you," she says as she effortlessly picks up and takes the box from your hands before you can even think to say no, a shiver running up your spine at the contact.
"You really don't have to," you protest weakly, making much of an effort to actually stop her.
"It's the least I can do after making you almost drop the box." She gives you a warm smile, and the butterflies in your stomach start dancing wildly.
"Thank you." You return the smile, feeling the corners of your mouth twitch.
She turns on her heel and gestures to the elevator doors. "Where are you headed?" she asks, pressing the up button with her elbow.
"Uh, floor 8," you answer. She nods, and when the elevator doors open, the two of you step inside.
The combination of the woman's vanilla-scented perfume and elevator music does little to soothe your anxiety. You stand side-by-side in awkward silence. You shift uncomfortably, feeling your cheeks burn. What do you even say to a person this gorgeous? You clear your throat and will the courage to speak. You are an adult. You can talk to people. You got this! Just be casual. Easy peasy. Just say words! Just. say. them.
"So, uh, is this your first time using the elevator?" You wince.
Maybe not those words.
"No, I usually use the stairs." She says with a giggle, seemingly unfazed by your pathetic attempt at conversation. "But, um, is this your first time here?"
You nod. "I just moved here today." You pause. "How did you know?"
"I just—haven't seen you here before," she says simply, looking you up and down with an expression you can't quite decipher. "I'm Bada, by the way."
"Bada," you repeat, testing out the name on your tongue. It sounds nice. You smile, and the tips of your ears grow hot. "I'm Y/N."
"Y/N." She returns your smile. "Nice to meet you."
"Likewise." Your fingers fidget with the hem of your shirt. Your eyes wander over to the numbers lit up on the panel, and your face pales when you see that the two of you are already on the eighth floor. The elevator slowly comes to a stop, and you swallow thickly. "Well, I guess this is my stop," you say as you step into the hallway.
"Did you want me to walk you to your apartment? This is actually the floor that I-" Bada starts, but a faint chime rings out before she can finish. She pulls her phone out, holding the box with one arm, and frowns at the screen.
"Ah, damn, I gotta go," she says. She looks back up at you and gives you a smile, although a little less bright. "I'm going to be late for a meeting. Do you think you can manage?"
You stare, momentarily perplexed by the kindness this random stranger is displaying towards you, but then you catch yourself, and smile.
You shake your head, waving a hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it, I've got it. I'm a big girl," you reassure her. "Thank you for helping me, though."
She hands the box over, and your fingers brush again, sending a jolt of electricity up your arm.
"Of course," she replies, smiling. "Anytime. It was nice meeting you."
"Yup."
You give each other a brief wave, and you watch the elevator doors slide shut.
As you stare at the spot she was once at, you feel a pang of disappointment in your chest. You wish you could have gotten to know her better, but there was always another day. You lived in the same building, after all. Maybe you'd run into her again.
You struggle with the box a bit more, and then you finally enter your apartment, the door clicking shut behind you.
The first thing you do is drop the box in the entryway and walk over to the nearest wall. You lean your back against it, sliding down until your butt hits the ground. You sit there for a moment, gazing out of the floor-to-ceiling window across the room, trying to process everything that just happened. And, well, everything else that's been happening in your life.
As the sun dips below the skyline, casting long shadows across the city, you find yourself finally having to wrestle with contrasting feelings of excitement over this fresh start, mingled with a weariness that's settled into your bones after a day of moving boxes and thinking of the uncertainty surrounding the days ahead of you.
Just a month ago, you made the spontaneous decision to move to chase your dreams in Seoul, a country an entire ocean away from where you're from. Now you are in a new city, a new apartment, a potential new job, and you have mixed feelings. You're excited about the possibilities but also scared of the loneliness you know is inevitable. It is a loneliness that is necessary, though. You’ve spent too long stuck, moping about your unfortunate circumstances in the same mundane city you grew up in. You were aching for something new. As terrified as you are, you know that it’ll eventually feel worth it. It has to.
In the meantime, your living space echoes with emptiness and awaits your touch. Exhausted but determined, you eventually drag yourself off the ground, the weight of the day catching up to you, but not stopping you.
You scan the space in front of you, surrounded by the remnants of your previous life, now neatly packed into cardboard containers. The living room, cluttered with boxes marked "pictures," "books," and "memories," feels too overwhelming, so you decide to tackle the kitchen first. Igniting your last reserves of energy, you unpack your pots and pans as your thoughts drifts to old routines. As the clock ticks away and you find new sacred spots for your favorite items, your exhaustion begins to fade as you infuse the space with pieces of yourself, fueled by the realization that this is your sanctuary that you could call your own.
By the time you empty your last box for the day, the apartment glows with your presence. It’s nowhere near finished, but you already feel as if your choices have been validated. You collapse onto your makeshift bed, and as you close your eyes, a smile plays on your lips.
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"I asked for three and three-quarter pumps of brown sugar. Is this really the best you can do?"
You stare at the cup sitting before you. Three and three-quarters, your ass. Who the hell was going to measure that? You glance up at the man before you. His face is contorted into a snarl as he glares at you, as if he expects an apology. It takes everything in you not to throw the steaming hot cup of coffee in his face.
"Sir, I'm sorry, but I believe that this is indeed three and one half—i mean—three quarter pumps," you lie, attempting to brush past your stumble in the calmest voice possible. You try to muster a professional smile, but it's a difficult feat.
"Bullshit. You clearly can't read a scale properly or hear. Just do it over, and make it right. Three and three QUARTERS," He huffs, shoving the cup in your direction.
Your fists clench behind the counter. "Yes, sir," you mutter through gritted teeth, your politeness hanging by a thread.
You dump his original drink in the trash and grab a fresh cup. The man watches as you add the pumps, one by one, ensuring that each one is added correctly. It is, and instead of being grateful that you did not put three and three-quarters of spit in his cup, he rolls his eyes, mumbling to himself about younger generations being too lazy to do their jobs right the first time. He takes the cup from you, without saying thank you, and struts off.
You sigh, shaking your head. You needed to get your blood pressure checked.
"You okay?" a voice asks.
You turn around, coming face to face with your coworker, Mijoo. She stands before you, leaning against the counter, a sympathetic smile on her face.
You groan, running a hand over your face. "I don't know how much longer I can take this. How have you worked here for this long?" you reply, your voice muffled by your hands.
Mijoo shrugs. "Honestly, you get used to it after a while. And on the rare occasion that you run into a genuinely nice customer, I promise they make up for the hundreds of shitty interactions."
Without moving your hands from your face, you state, “That doesn't make me feel any better."
Mijoo laughs, bright and bubbly, and pats your shoulder. "Don't worry, it'll get easier, I promise. You'll be desensitized in no time! Seriously, I feel nothing when people call me stupid, or an imbecile, or a bitch-"
You frown, dropping your hands. "Mijoo, that's awful."
Mijoo sighs and walks around the counter to wrap her arm around your shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. "Just don't stress about it, okay? You'll be fine. Plus, we've got each other!"
You return the gesture, wrapping an arm around her waist. "You're right."
Mijoo has been your rock throughout this whole process. She was the one who interviewed you for this crappy job, and she was the one who showed you the ropes inside and outside of the cafe you work at. In addition to showing you her go-to spot in the cafe for mental breakdowns, she's shown you her favorite spots in Seoul. If it weren't for her, you're sure you'd be a complete and utter wreck.
"What would I do without you?" you ask.
Mijoo chuckles, squeezing you tighter. "Probably have a lot more panic attacks," she replies, causing the two of you to erupt in laughter.
The alarm on your phone blares, signaling that it's time for you to go home. You and Mijoo share a dejected glance. You hated leaving her alone at the shop, but she always insisted that you go home before the rush. You had no choice but to agree.
"See you tomorrow," you tell her as you shrug on your jacket.
"Bright and early," she responds, throwing you a wave.
"Are you at least going home soon?"
She shakes her head. "Nah, I've got a few things I need to finish up, so I'll probably be here for a few more hours. I'll lock up."
You sigh. "Alright, but please text me when you get home."
She smiles, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Will do. Now, go. Go home and get some sleep, you deserve it."
You make your way to the entrance, giving Mijoo one last glance. She waves to you, a big grin on her face. When you open the door and step out, the bell above you chimes.
As the crisp air hits your face, you can feel the tension drain from your body. A content smile graces your lips, and you can feel your mood instantly improving. Even though your job was stressful, there was nothing quite like coming home after a long shift.
The sun has already begun to set, and the streets are bustling. People pass by you, not paying attention as they make their way home. Some have earphones in, while others are on their phones. You watch as couples and groups of friends chat and laugh as they make their way to whatever destination they have in mind. You feel a small pang of loneliness in your chest.
Your apartment isn't too far from your work, so you reach your destination quickly despite the heaviness in your heart. You're exhausted, and all you want to do is go home, cook dinner, and crawl into bed.
You ride the elevator to your floor, and you're reminded of the time you ran into Bada months ago. Her name echoed through your head every time you heard this elevator music, which was every day. You haven't seen her since that day, which wasn't really a surprise. It was a big building.
When the doors open, you make a beeline to your door, fishing your keys out of your pocket. As soon as you unlock your door, you practically skip inside. You immediately slip off your shoes and toss your jacket and keys onto the counter. You let out a satisfied sigh as you plop down on the couch, closing your eyes. You stay like that for a few moments, listening to the quiet hum of the air conditioner. After a few minutes, you hear your phone ping. Yelping, you sit up and pull it out of your pocket, hoping it's the text you've been anticipating from a landlord. Disappointment settles in the pit of your stomach when you see it's just a spam email. Groaning, you drop the phone onto the couch next to you.
You sit there, wallowing in your misery and loneliness. The quiet hum of the AC does little to soothe your worries.
You miss your friends, but the distance has made it hard for them to keep up with you, and vice versa. They all had lives, and jobs, and families. But you didn't. All you had was an empty apartment. And you had Mijoo, but you felt terrible relying on her for everything.
As you’re ruminating on the pathetic reality of your social life, a loud bang comes from the wall behind you. You jump in shock and quickly turn to look at the source. You can barely make out a muffled, feminine voice, saying something that sounds like a curse. Seconds later, music starts playing through the walls. Loud, bass-heavy music. You sit up, your hand hovering over the plaster, feeling perplexed. You haven't heard anyone in the apartment next to you since you moved in. You just assumed you were neighborless. Maybe someone new moved in? You haven't seen anyone with boxes or anything all week, though, and there's no way someone just managed to move in within the last 8 hours.
A beat passes. You can feel the vibrations from the loud music rattling the walls. You frown, and walk over to the wall. You raise a hand and knock loudly, but it's useless. You sigh. There was no way you could relax with this noise.
You turn away from the wall, and pick your phone up in case you need to dial 119 during this confrontation. You make your way out into the hallway, slamming the door shut behind you and ignoring how your heart pounds in your ears. You walk to the door next to yours and, after a moment of hesitation, knock loudly. The music stops, and your heartbeat slows. The door remains closed, so you knock again, even harder this time.
After what feels like an eternity, the door finally swings open, revealing a woman you thought you'd never see again.
"Bada?" you question, bewildered.
"Hey," she replies, sounding equally surprised. She's wearing sweatpants and a black tank top, and her hair is in a messy ponytail. You can smell a faint hint of sweat. She's still gorgeous, though.
"What are you doing here?" you ask, trying to hide your shock.
She looks behind her, as if to verify that she's in the correct place, then turns back around. "This is my apartment," she states, slowly, as if she's speaking to a child requiring stabilization.
"Since when?"
She laughs at this, and your heart flutters. "Since I've lived here. Which is a long time, considering this is the second year."
"No, I mean," you pause, searching for the right words. "I haven't seen you around? I mean, you're right next door. There's no way I could've missed you."
Her lips form an 'o' shape, and she nods. "Ah, well, I travel a lot for work so I haven't been home much. I was out of the country for a while."
You nod, "Oh. That makes sense. Well, see ya!"
You turn on your heel and make your way back towards your apartment, embarrassment beginning to flood through your body, when Bada's voice stops you.
"Hey, wait."
You turn around, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah?"
She looks amused. "Are you going to tell me why you came knocking? Or did you just want to see me?"
Your eyes widen and your cheeks burn. "What? No, I'm sorry, I-"
She interrupts you with a laugh. "Relax, I'm joking."
You nod, feeling relieved. You weren't sure why this woman made you feel so incompetent. "Well, it’s the music. It's really loud, and-"
"Oh, shit," she cuts in, her eyes widening. "I'm sorry, I forgot. I'm not used to having neighbors. It's been a while since someone lived next door."
"It's totally fine, it's just...a bit much."
"Gotcha," she replies.
You stare at each other for a few seconds, and you can feel yourself begin to sweat. You clear your throat. "Well, I should probably go now."
She nods, a slight frown on her face. "Okay. See you around."
"See ya," you reply, awkwardly, before walking away.
When you reach your door, you let out a deep breath As annoyed and embarrassed as you were, seeing her again was a bit of a pleasant surprise. She seemed even more beautiful now than she did in the elevator. Your mind wanders back to the sleeveless shirt she had on. The hair bun that gave you a clear view of her neck, her jawline, her collarbones.
You shake the thought from your head and walk into your apartment. You needed to put yourself out there, soon. It’s been too long since you’ve felt a woman’s touch, and now you can barely look at an attractive woman without spiraling into a frenzy.
You decide to go take a shower and call it an early night, hoping that a session with Rosalia 3000 will ease your mind.
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You stand behind the counter, boredly wiping down the surfaces. It's a slow day, and Mijoo is off, finally using her vacation days. The cafe is mostly empty, save for a few students studying in the corner. You've already cleaned the entire place twice today, and the clock hasn't even struck 4 o'clock yet. It was days like these that you hated most. As much as you disliked angry customers, having to stand behind the counter doing nothing all day was enough to make you want to claw your eyes out.
You sigh, and lean back against the counter. You check your phone, just in case you missed any messages you’ve been waiting for. When the screen loads, the familiar white background greets you, with no new notifications.
You lock the screen, and stuff the device into the pocket of your apron. You look around the cafe, hoping to find something to occupy your mind. Your eyes land on the display cases of cakes on the far end of the counter, and an idea pops into your head.
You grab a bag of flour, sugar, eggs, milk, and baking powder from the storage room. You mix the ingredients together, and add a few teaspoons of vanilla extract. After about ten minutes, the batter is ready, and you scoop some into a pastry bag. You start to pipe the dough into shapes, filling the space. The familiar motion relaxes you, and you can feel the stress slowly leaving your body. There were only a select few people in the cafe who were permitted to contribute to the array of treats your cafe housed. Unfortunately, you weren’t one of those people, leaving you little time to partake in your passion in between busy shifts and tiring days. You needed this.
Working quickly, you fill up the space within 30 minutes. After placing the cookies in the backoven, you start cleaning up the counter, throwing away any leftover bits of dough and tossing the used bowls and utensils into the sink. When you finish cleaning the area as best as you can, you turn back around, and your eyes widen as you realize you aren't alone.
Standing before you, his arms crossed, is the man with the ridiculous coffee order from a couple days ago. Yikes.
"Um," you begin, trying to keep your voice from wavering."Can I help you?"
"I’ve been standing here for two minutes,” he begins, and you can hear the aggravation in his voice. "Do you not know how to do your job?"
"I-"
"So you’re not just a terrible barista, you’re a terrible worker too,” he spits out.“There are barely any people in this cafe and you can’t keep up?”
You clench your jaw, trying to keep the anger bubbling up inside of you at bay. "Sir, I apologize for not noticing you sooner, but I’ll be happy to assist you now."
"Yeah, I’m sure. Where’s your manager?”
Your eye twitches. “He isn’t here right now. I can assure you I’ll be able to help you with anything you need."
"Well do you have a way to contact him? A phone number? Zoom?”
You shake your head. "Sorry, sir. Our manager prefers that we only contact him when he is away if there’s an emergency.”
He releases a maniacal laugh, then immediately straightens his face. “Is this not an emergency? How is this not an emergency when the service in this shop is so fucked that you don’t see a customer standing in plain sight for ten minutes?”
You blink. “I thought—never mind. Sir, again, I’m terribly sorry. If you’d like, I can give you this drink on the house and—"
He cuts you off. "I don't want a refund. I want better quality of service…”
He drones on, and at this point you tune him out. There was nothing you could do or say to satisfy him. Really, the irony of the situation just made you want to laugh. He was complaining about you wasting his time, and by doing so was wasting even more time. Did this man actually have a job other than being a menace to innocent baristas? Probably not. As you mindlessly watch the man flail his arms in exasperation, you hear the bell above the entrance ring. You’re about to glance over, when the man in front of you slams his palm on the counter, demanding your attention.
"I'm not done yet! I've spent the last fifty six minutes telling you everything you're doing wrong, and you've barely apologized. In fact—"
"I'm sorry, sir, but if you don’t calm down I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” You cut him off, your voice surprisingly steady.
"What?" His mouth hangs open.
You cross your arms. "You are disrupting the environment and harassing me.”
"Harassing?" He repeats, incredulously. "Are you fucking kidding me? Who the hell are you to tell me what to do? You don’t have the authority to kick me out.”
You roll your eyes. "I'm not kicking you out. You are free to stay and order anything you'd like. If, however, you choose to continue to cause a scene, I'll have no choice but to have you escorted off the premises."
His eyes narrow, and this time he crosses his arms. "Yeah? And who’s gonna escort me?”
Customer service thrown out the window, you open your mouth to call him a prickly little bitch, but are interrupted by the sudden appearance of a hooded figure walking up beside him.
"Leave her alone," a familiar voice states. You look over, and realize the individual you’re looking at is Bada, who towers over the man beside her.
The man scoffs, and looks her up and down. "Excuse me? Mind your own.”
"This is her cafe, and she has a right to kick you out if you're being disruptive."
"I'm not bothering anyone," the man retorts.
"Well, you’re bothering me. I’ve had to stand here and watch you squeal for the past few minutes and quite frankly it's starting to piss me off. If you don’t leave, I'll escort you out myself."
The man opens his mouth, presumably to spit some more venom, but the sight of Bada's clenched fists and murderous glare causes him to snap his mouth shut. He glares at the two of you for a moment, before turning on his heel and stalking off.
Both of you watch him leave. As the door closes behind him, you witness the door swing shut with surprising speed, smacking into Mr. Grumpington's rear end just as he reaches the threshold. Stumbling forward with a startled yelp, his briefcase flies out of his grasp, scattering papers across the sidewalk.
Your hand flings up, over your mouth as you observe him stand slowly, his knees wobbling. A woman and her child pass by him with bewildered expressions, and you repress your laughter. Once he gathers himself, he shoots a withering glare in the direction of the café, and storms off.
Old man finally gone, Bada turns back to you, her expression soft. "Sorry. I know I probably overstepped, but I saw the whole thing and I was worried he was going to hurt you.”
You sober up and shake your head, smiling slightly. "No, it's okay. He was being an asshole and I didn't know what to do with him. I'm glad you were here."
Bada returns your smile, and you're once again taken aback by her. “Anytime."
"I have cookies, if you'd like some," you offer, suddenly remembering the sweets baking in the oven. "On the house, for the trouble."
Bada's eyes light up. "I'd love some! And an iced latte, please.”
You nod. "Sure. Have a seat and I'll bring it out."
Bada takes a seat in a booth in the corner, and pulls out a laptop. As the coffee brews, you glance at her as she types and reads something on the screen, her expression concentrated. She purses her lips as as she focuses on whatever she’s looking at, and you find yourself staring.
She looks up, catching your eye. You blush, and spin around to face the display case, pretending to wipe it down. You grab the iced latte and a plate of cookies, and walk over to Bada.
"Thanks!" she says, smiling, and grabs a cookie. She takes a bite and hums in satisfaction.
"Good, right?" you question, a smile tugging at your lips.
"So good!" she affirms, her cheeks full of the pastry.
You break into a wide grin that you’re not sure is because of the woman’s cuteness, or the pride blooming in your chest. "Thanks. I made them."
She raises her eyebrows. "Wait, really? Woah. I'm impressed."
Playing nonchalant, you shrug. "It's whatever."
She laughs. "It's not whatever! These would sell out in seconds if you displayed them in here," she remarks, grabbing another one.
You're reminded of the call you're still waiting on, and try to dispel the anxiousness growing inside you. That’s the plan, just not here. You decide not to bring that up, though. You dont wanting to put a damper her spirits with your oversharing.
But you're not tired of hearing her praises. "You think?"
"Definitely,” she confirms. "I'll come by every day to buy a dozen.”
"I'll hold you to it."
"Please do," she responds, and you swear you detect a hint of flirtation in her voice. Before you can retort, a notification pops up on her computer, and her eyes dart down. She sighs.
"Everything alright?" you ask.
She nods, but her brows are furrowed. "Yeah. I'm just stressed. My job has been keeping me super busy lately."
You nod, and hesitate before asking, "If you don't mind me asking, what do you do?"
"Oh," she answers, her face clearing up. "I'm a dancer. And I choreograph for kpop groups."
Your eyes widen. "Whoa. That's cool."
"Thanks," she responds. She pauses for a moment, and she looks like she wants to say more. "It is, but...I don't know, sometimes these companies get on my nerves." She says with a tired laugh.
You're a bit surprised by her confession, and the dejected look on her face makes your heart hurt. "What do you mean?"
She shrugs. "They're never quite satisfied with what we do and it sucks, you know? The only time I have fun is when I'm working with a company that doesn't treat their artists like shit."
You frown. "Yeah, I can't even begin to imagine how frustrating that is. I'm sorry."
She smiles, looking sheepish. "No, I'm sorry for venting. It's been a long week."
You shake your head. "Don't apologize. You're saving me from having to clean the counter for the nth time today."
She smirks. "I thought the jerk from earlier was already doing that?"
"Oh god, please don't bring him up again." You groan, and she giggles in a way that makes your chest warm.
"Don't worry. He won't bother you anymore. I scared him away," she says, wiggling her eyebrows.
You laugh, and a comfortable silence falls between the two of you. You're about to ask her another question when you hear the bell on the door chime. You look over, and see a group of college students walking in. Your stomach drops.
"Guess it's time for me to actually do my job,” you mutter.
She nods. "What time do you get off? Maybe we could talk more after you're done? Walk home together?"
Walk home together? You should’ve put on a better perfume today. "Sure, but I'm gonna be here for another couple hours."
She slaps her hands together. “That’s actually perfect. I have a bunch of videos to review anyway. I'll be here." She gives you a small wave, and returns to her laptop. You walk away, unable to contain your grin.
And she is there. As the night drags on, as the rush comes in and finally calms, as the clock strikes 8, and as you close the doors.
You turn the keys, locking the door. You turn around, and she's there, waiting for you, laptop in hand. She kicks a rock and it skitters away, hitting a lamppost. When she notices you watching, she offers a shy smile.
"Ready to go?" she asks.
"Sure am," You respond, and the two of you start heading down the street.
The air is warm and the night sky is clear, the stars twinkling brightly. You glance over at her, and admire the way the streep lamps lights up her face. Her eyes are focused ahead, and you stare at her profile. She notices you staring, and turns her head, smiling softly.
"What's up?" she questions.
You shake your head and face forward, wanting to crawl in a hole at your slip-up. "Nothing." You feel the heat rise to your cheeks. This is silly. You've seen this woman plenty of times recently. Hell, you were just in the cafe together not even fifteen ago. But now, walking side-by-side with her, the air between you heavy, you can't help but feel a need to impress her. The idea that you could possibly have a friendship (or more?) with her makes your heart soar. It's silly, and maybe a bit childish, but you're not one to let a good feeling pass by. So, you take a chance, wanting to make this work.
"So, I don't know much about you, but I'd love to," you begin, and her gaze darts towards you. "Tell me about yourself. You said you were a dancer, right?"
"Oh, yeah." She nods. "I started dancing when I was a kid. It was fun, but I didn't start taking it seriously until I was older. I started out doing covers, and eventually landed an audition with a company. That's how I got my foot in the door, and then I kept climbing and now I'm here."
"That's amazing," you tell her. "I'm guessing it's a lot of hard work?"
She nods. "Definitely. It's rewarding, though."
You want to know more, so you ask her more questions, and you follow into comfortable chatter as she tells you all about her life. She asks you a few questions too, some of which you avoid, like why you moved here, or why you're working at the cafe that you obviously dislike. But, overall, the conversation flows easily, and before you know it, the two of you are standing in front of your apartment building.
As the two of you approach the lobby, Bada speaks. "We should do this more often."
"Which part? Walking home together, or me talking your ear off about the ending of Twenty-Five Twenty-One?"
"Mostly the first part. Although I didn't mind hearing you talk about that kdrama. The lead actress is really hot."
You snort, and she follows suit. "You know, I'm glad you came into the cafe today," you confess.
"Me too." She responds, and the two of you stop in front of your door. You're unsure of what to say next, but Bada steps forward, and you tense. Was this really happening?
But then she's inching away, her hands tucked into her pockets. You relax, and ignore the slight disappointment built up in your chest. Duh, you think, shaking your head. What were you expecting?
"Well, have a good night." You say, offering her a small smile.
"You too," she says. "I'll see you soon."
She waves, and you watch her go, before unlocking the door and walking into the apartment. You close your door behind you, and lean against it, releasing a breath.
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Over the next week, you see Bada in passing in the hallway multiple times. Each time she sees you, she stops and says hi, and you talk for a bit. She stops by the cafe a few times too, although she hasn't been able to walk home with you again yet, having a late-night schedule nearly everyday.
But each encounter makes your heart race, and by the end of the week, you feel like your chest might explode. You're not sure the attraction is reciprocated, but even if it is, would she actually be interested in someone like you? Someone who had to deal with a shitty customer service job, was running increasingly low on money, had a terrible sleep schedule, and was depending on one call to determine whether or not this move was a mistake? Probably not. The videos you've been watching for the past hour have made that evident.
Curiosity got the best of you, and you finally looked up Bada about an hour ago. It didn't take long for her to pop up. A ton of information about her was available, from her birthday, to her favorite food, to her shoe size. You mostly ignored that stuff, opting to watch her choreography videos instead. A horrible mistake. She was undeniably talented and captivating, and watching her perform made you feel a million things all at once, the most powerful being desire, much to your dismay. Why was that woman always humping the floor?
After watching the last video, which was a choreography of a popular girl group's song, you shut your computer and lean back on the couch. You stare at the wall separating your apartment from hers, wondering what she's doing right now. Is she getting ready for bed? Did she have a busy day? Is she thinking of you, like how you're thinking of her? Doubtful, but the thought makes your stomach flip.
A notification from your phone interrupts your pity party. You assume it's a notification about a delivery you have coming, but you're surprised to see a text from one of your hometown friends.
Jasmine: heyyy how is everything going over there!
Jasmine: opened up your dream bakery yet?
Not this. You really, really do not want to get into this right now, especially with your friends and family from home, who had high expectations for you. But they were your friends, and you didn't want to keep them in the dark. You take a deep breath, and respond.
y/n: almost. just working at a cafe while I'm getting everything settled.
You wait a few minutes, but she doesn't respond. You sigh. Another thing you miss from home—texting your friends in real time. It would have been nice to be able to vent.
You're about to stand up when you get a response.
Jasmine: oh okay! just be careful not to fall into the same trap you were in here. I don't want you working yourself to death :(
y/n: i won't.
Jasmine: good.
Jasmine: anyway, met anybody cute out there yet?
You stare at the screen, and you can't help but smile.
y/n: yes.
Jasmine: OMG!!!
Jasmine: details plz!
You laugh.
y/n: it's none of your business, lol.
Jasmine: come ooooon y/n!
y/n: nope! I don't want to jinx anything
Jasmine: fine. just keep me updated.
You're about to respond, but a knock at your front door startles you. You set your phone down, and walk over to the door, looking through the peephole, and speak of the devil: It's Bada.
You quickly comb a hand through your hair and rub the sleep out of your eyes. Taking a deep breath, you open the door, trying not to look flustered.
"Hey!" you greet.
"Hi." She responds, and you immediately recognize that something is decidedly off. She looks tense. Her brows are furrowed, and she’s avoiding eye contact, shifting her weight from side to side awkwardly. You see her clutching something behind her back, but cannot make out what it is.
"Um, are you okay?" you ask hesitantly, half-ready to grab the (tall and grown) woman to pull her inside your apartment to protect her from potential imminent dangers.
"Yeah. I just-um. I think your package was delivered to the wrong address?" She pulls her arm from behind her back, and hands you a large box with it flipped to the bottom. "Sorry."
"Oh!" you take the package, are immediately met with the recipient name printed in bold font that is, of course, addressed to you. "Thank you. Sorry about that."
"No worries." She smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes. "I'll, uh, see you around."
"Yeah, definitely."
She walks away, and you're left standing in the doorway, a bit confused. That was...weird. You step back inside, shutting the door. You set the package down on the coffee table, and just as you are about to rip it open, you make eye contact with the imagery on the front of the package.
Your eyes widen. Oh no. How could you have forgotten?
There, plastered across the front of the box, was a clear picture of a very suggestive toy. You read the words below the image.
"Battery-Operated Love: Your Guide To The Best Vibrators, Toys, and Dildos!"
You stare. You blink. You look around, as if someone is playing a prank on you. You stare some more.
Then, you hurriedly reach for the throw pillow sitting next to you on the couch, and scream into it.
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You sigh, tapping your foot against the floor to the rhythm of humming washers. It's early morning, the sun barely peeking out, and you're currently in the laundry room in your building, waiting for your clothes to dry.
It's been a few days since your package fiasco, and Bada hasn't made another appearance. You'd say she's trying to avoid you, but in reality, you’re the one going out of your way to steer clear of her potential judgments. You've even taken to staying in late, leaving the apartment only to go to work, where you've adjusted your schedule to further avoid the woman in case she tried to stop by. You acknowledge the fact that you're probably overreacting. It wasn't that big of a deal. You're a grown woman with needs! And you weren't going to let those needs fester when you had such an accessible way of gratifying them. You couldn't let the hard work that ancient physicians put into developing such helpful products go to waste. You love to support small businesses!
Although, you weren’t a big fan of the one you ordered from this time. So much for "discreet packaging.”
You stand up, deciding to grab a drink from the vending machine outside to cool your nerves. You reach the lobby, and walk towards the corner, where the row of machines are lined up in front of windows that belong to the gym. You insert your coins, press a few buttons, and wait for your drink. The vending machine is old, and the whirring and clanging of the dispensing mechanism are loud, so it takes longer than usual.
You glance around as you wait, and your eyes finally settle on the windows. You squint, noticing a familiar silhouette performing a series of exercises.
Bada is inside, doing pull-ups. Her back is to you, and her hair is pulled into a ponytail. She's wearing a loose t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and shorts. Sweat drips from her forehead and down her back, and the muscles in her arms flex and move with each lift.
You feel your throat dry up. The machine spits out the can, and you grab it. You hesitate for a moment, and then step forward, pushing open the glass door leading into the gym as if you were moving on autopilot. You don't know what you're doing.
"Hey!" you greet.
She turns around, eyes wide, and lowers herself onto the ground. "Hi."
"How are you?" you ask.
"Good! Just finishing up my workout," she answers, reaching for the towel draped on a bench beside her.
"Cool," you answer, trying not to focus on the way her chest heaves as she catches her breath.
"What about you? Haven't seen you around lately," she says, wiping the sweat from her neck.
"I've been busy," you lie, weakly holding up your can. "Just got something from the vending machine while I'm waiting for my laundry. Probably gonna head out and run some errands after this.”
"Ah, okay." She nods, and reaches for a water bottle. You watch her tilt her head back, gulping down the liquid, her Adam's apple bobbing as she swallows. Your eyes travel to her neck, and her collarbone, which is exposed, and the droplets of sweat that rest on her skin. You watch her throat move, and suddenly, your mind is filled with images of her lips trailing down your neck, nipping at your throat, and you're overcome with desire.
You swallow, then continue rambling, trying to rid yourself of your debauched thinking. "Yup, heading over to Itaewon with a friend tonight. Probably won't be back home until tomorrow morning!" you say with the projection of a teenage boy who had his first drink yesterday. You weren't lying this time, though. After the incident, you were humbled into a state of reflection. You wanted to try putting yourself out there, and potentially find gratification beyond something that was battery-powered. Mijoo was ecstatic to hear this, and immediately sent you a list of clubs she and her friends frequented.
"Sounds fun." She takes another sip, and sets the bottle down. "Hope you have a good time. Actually, do you have time to do me a favor before you get back to your laundry?"
"What kind of favor?" you ask, a bit suspicious.
"Can you spot me?" she asks, and you're confused for a moment. She gestures towards a padded spot on the floor. "I was gonna do some more reps, and I’d really appreciate it if you could help me—um—make sure my form was right. f you don't have time, that's fine, I can ask someone else."
"No!" you answer. She jerks her head back in confusion, and you flush at your stumble. "No, I have time. I can spot you."
"Awesome! Thanks so much," she says with her signature heartwarming grin. "I'll just do a couple of sets. It shouldn't take too long.”
”I should warn you that I don’t know anything about weightlifting. Or strength exercises. Or cardio—”
"Not a problem. I’ll just do sit-ups." She reassures as she sits on the floor, and lies down.
“Oh. Okay,” you felt like you were in grade school. "Are we counting or not counting?"
"Um, counting would be helpful," she says.
You nod, and kneel beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder. You feel her tense for a second, but are quickly distracted trying not to focus on the way the damp fabric of her shirt sticks to her skin. "Okay. Ready when you are."
You count, and with each sit-up, the muscles in her arms flex, her jaw tightens, and her breathing becomes labored. You're in such close proximity to her, her arm brushes against yours every time she goes down. The heat radiating from her body is palpable, and you feel yourself begin to sweat, the air becoming hot.
When she's finished, she falls back onto the mat, and you release the breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding. She gets up, and wipes the sweat from her forehead.
"Well, that was fun," she says, standing up to grab her stuff.
"Yeah, it sure was," you murmer, trying to hide the fact that you're completely out of breath despite doing nothing but count. You stand up, and follow her out the door. "See you later, Bada."
Bada waves, looking you over once more in a manner that makes your insides twist, before turning around a speed-walking toward the elevators.
You take a minute to breathe and head back into the laundry room, where your clothes are ready. Instead of grabbing them, you collapse into one of the cheap folding chairs in the corner of the room. Your clothes are probably tinier at this point, but you can't bring yourself to move. Why did you even walk in there in the first place? You knew well that you weren’t capable of acting normal in front of that woman.
You remind yourself of your plans with Mijoo tonight. A club. In the city. With pretty people. Where alcohol was served.
You take a deep breath, and stand up, taking your clothes and throwing them in your basket.
You'd be fine.
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An ear-splitting wail from the girl next to you almost makes you drop your drink.
"I CAN'T DO THIS SHIT ANYMORE!" the woman screeches, and Mijoo, who is currently attempting to console her, rolls her eyes.
"Honey, please, don't make a scene."
"But it's true! I'm a loser, and I'm going to die alone! I might as well stop trying!”
"No, you're not, just stop drinking," Mijoo responds, her voice a few octaves higher in annoyance. She glances at you, and rolls her eyes.
The two of you are at the gay bar in Itaewon, and after an hour and a half, it seems that the night is coming to an end. Mijoo's friend, Naeun, had a mental breakdown after spotting her ex-girlfriend making out with the woman she told her not to worry about. After that, the mood was completely killed. Naeun feigned nonchalance at first.That relationship was seven months ago, she said. I’ve moved on, she said. I’ve had better, she said. it was almost convincing, until you saw her gulp down three shots at a pace you did not know was humanly possible.
And now…
"It's like, you don't listen to anything I say," Naeun sniffles, and you genuinely feel bad for her. You give her a gentle pat on the back, and she turns to hug you.
"I know, I'm a horrible friend or whatever. Let's just go home and eat ice cream or something," Mijoo sighs, and the two of you help Naeun stand.
"Yes. Thank you. You guys are the best," she whimpers. "I don't deserve you."
"Yes, you do," Mijoo assures.
"Yeah, it's all good," you chime in. "Let's just get you home. I think you've had enough alcohol for the next week. Or year."
You and Mijoo drag her out of the bar and into the streets of Itaewon. It's dark, and the neon lights illuminate the sidewalks, where drunk patrons stumble through. You're a little buzzed, and Naeun's deadweight is difficult to carry. Somehow, you manage to get her onto the subway, and inside your building, which is closest. When you reach your front door, you can't help but glance over at Bada's apartment, and are surprised to see a light peeking through the crack between the door and the frame.
"You live here?" Naeun slurs, and you nod, opening the door and dragging her in.
"We'll put her on the couch. Do you mind if we stay over?" Mijoo suggests.
"Not at all," you agree, and the two of you set her down. She groans, and closes her eyes, stretching across your couch in a starfish position. Her dress has risen all the way up to her stomach, but she doesn’t seem to care, You grimace at the sight. "Poor thing."
"She'll be fine," Mijoo says, waving her off. "Come on, I’m starving,"
You follow her into your kitchen and lean against the counter as she reaches into your fridge to pours herself a drink. So much for ice cream.
"Sorry our plans fell through," she apologizes, and you shrug.
"It's not a big deal. Shit happens. Besides, I had fun even though we were only out for, like, five seconds," you answer.
She takes a sip of the liquid in her cup. “We can try again next week? I'll make sure that Naeun is mentally stable next time."
"I don’t know. That doesn’t sound as fun,” you joke, and she grins.
"You’re so right,” she pauses as she opens your fridge back up, and gasps. "Ooh, y/n, can I have one of these?"
"One of what?" you ask, peering over her shoulder, only to find her holding cupcake that you'd made earlier. "Oh, yeah, sure. Go ahead."
She rips off the wrapper, and takes a bite, moaning. "Wow, this is—"
A loud thump sounds from the other side of the wall, and the two of you turn your heads, eyes wide.
"Is that your neighbor?" Mijoo whispers, and the two of you stand still, listening intently. There are a few more thumps, and then a sharp gasp.
"I think she's fucking someone," Mijoo whispers, and then a moan sounds from the other side, followed by a string of curse words, and the bed frame slams against the wall, a rhythmic knocking echoing throughout the apartment.
Naeun sits up from where she's sitting on the couch, and mechanically states, "I need to call her."
"Don't you dare," Mijoo growls, aggressively pointing a finger at the pitiful girl. Naeun whines, and collapses back onto the couch, and you continue to stare at the wall with wide eyes. This couldn't be happening.
You're quiet, listening to the creeks of the bed, the groans, the panting, the curses, and, despite the situation, you can’t help but feel…curious. You’d usually be irked by this situation, reminded of the particularly horrific nights you’d have when you lived with a roommate in your younger years. As made evident by the fluttering in your stomach (and in other parts of your body) you, this was not that. Not even close.
Mijoo laughs. "Oh my god, does this usually happen?"
You snap out of your stupor. "Uh, no, actually. She's usually pretty quiet."
"Really?"
"Yeah. And besides, she's sweet, so it's kind of weird hearing this, but, uh, it's whatever," you reply, attempting to ignore a squeal that vaguely resembles Bada's name.
The bed's movements pick up speed, and the sounds become louder.
"Oh my god," Mijoo murmurs, covering her ears. Naeun starts crying again.
"She's gonna fuck her to death," Naeun sobs, and then the two of you can’t help but burst into laughter. You walk over to the living room, and pat her on the back.
"Come on, let's get you to sleep," you say, helping her up. "You can have the bed. Mijoo and I will take the couch."
"Thank you, I love you both so much," she blubbers, and you drag her into the bedroom, tucking her into the bed.
"We're gonna stay in the living room, so holler if you need us, okay?" you tell her, and she nods.
"I love you guys," she slurs, and then passes out, mouth wide open.
"She’s so dramatic," Mijoo cackles as you close the door.
You and Mijoo get ready to go to sleep, and soon enough the obscene noises from next door are gone. But, as you fall asleep on the couch, they still ring in your head.
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"I'm so sorry for the way I acted last night." Naeun apologizes, a pout on her face. You wave her off. “Don't worry, you're good. At least you gave us some entertainment while you were at it. Are you okay, though?"
She shrugs, adjusting the duffle bag on her shoulder. "Yeah. I mean, it was a pretty big blow, but I'll get over it. She's not worth the tears."
"Atta girl," Mijoo cooes, patting Naeun's head. She turns to you, and smiles. "Thanks for letting us stay over, y/n."
You open your front door, and wave. "Yeah, of course. I'll see you guys later."
Just as the two girls step out, the door to the apartment next to yours opens. You all look to the side, and notice a disheveled woman with blonde hair and bright red lipstick exiting into the hallway. You and Mijoo exchange glances as the woman's eyes meet yours. She gives a small, awkward smile when she notices the three of you, and then bows before hurrying down the hallway.
"Was that your neighbor?" Mijoo asks, and you shake your head.
The actual neighbor in question steps into the hallway, and the three of you watch her with wide eyes. She's wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, long hair cascading down her back.
Bewildered by your stares, she looks at the three of you with confusion.
"Hello," she greets, bowing, and the three of you bow back. "How are you?"
Naeun's eyes become the size of saucers. "Y-you're Bad—"
"Good!" Mijoo interrupts, and gives a wide, forced smile. "We're all doing well."
"That's good," Bada replies, giving a polite nod. She looks at you, and the corners of her lips quirk upwards. "Hi, y/n. Nice seeing you."
After last night’s noises, her politeness makes you want to laugh. or scream. or cry. You return the smile, gripping your doorknob until your knuckles turn white. "Yeah, nice seeing you, too."
She turns her attention back to the other two, waves, then walks off.
Mijoo and Naeun immediately whip around to face you.
"Your neighbor is Bada Lee?!" Naeun screeches.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Mijoo yells, and you step back.
"Bye guys!" you say, closing the door on the two of them.
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Shortly before closing, the bell rings.
"Hello!" you chirp. "Welcome to—oh, hello!"
"Hey, y/n." Bada waves.
"Hey," you say, even though the two of you already said hello. "How are you?"
"Good, and you?"
"Great, thanks," she responds, staying put in front of the door. "Uh, I actually came here to, um, ask if you wanted to walk home together? I was just passing by, and I thought maybe we could just, like, walk back. At the same time. Since we both have to, um, go there. To our respective homes. I know it's been a while, but I thought it'd be fun. I-if you want some company, I mean. Sorry, I'll leave if you want me to, I'm just—"
"Bada," you interrupt, and she looks up, her eyes meeting yours. "I'd love to."
She blinks. "You would?"
The look of surprise on her face almost startles you back into hesitation. Why wouldn’t you want to spend time with the woman? Even with all the moments you’ve wanted to bury yourself in a hole because of your embarrassment, you couldn’t find it in yourself to ever say no.
Untying your apron from around your waist, you nod. "Yeah! Just give me a second to grab my stuff."
"Okay." She grins. "Thanks."
You pick up your belongings, clock out, and the two of you stepping outside. You lock the doors, and begin to walk towards your building.
"So, how was your night yesterday?" Bada asks, and you almost trip at the reminder of yesterday’s events.
"Uh, it was fine," you reply, clearing your throat. "What about yours?"
"Oh, it was, um, good." She nods.
I’m sure it was, you think. You look at the ground, biting the inside of your cheek. "That's good."
The two of you walk in silence, and now you feel awkward. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. The only sounds surrounding you are of the rustling of the trees, and the occasional passing car.
"Was that your girlfriend?" she suddenly blurts out, and you whip your head around to look at her.
"Huh?"
"Last night, when I ran into the three of you in the hallway. Were one of those girls your girlfriend? Or…”
"No, neither of them," you reply, shaking your head. "One of them is Mijoo, the coworker I told you about, and her friend, Naeun. They came over after we went to a bar."
"Ah." She nods, looking at the sidewalk, and your eyes narrow. You swear you see a small smile on her face.
"What about your girl?" you ask, and her head shoots up.
"My girl?"
"Yeah. Was the girl that was over last night your girlfriend?"
"Oh, no, no, she wasn't," she quickly answers.
"Hm," you hum. And then, your next words spill from your mouth before you can even process them. "I would've thought so with all of the…screaming that was going on."
"W-what?" she stammers, freezing in her tracks.
"Uh," you say, stopping as well. "Nothing. Forget I said anything."
"Did you hear...us?" she asks, her voice quiet, and you can't bear to look at her. Why did you speak up? You didn’t want her to feel embarrassed. Or worse, think of you as a creep for listening in.
"Yes," you murmur, and she lets out a groan, her face turning a shade of pink.
"I am so, so sorry. I thought you were gone. Oh my god, that is so embarrassing." She buries her face in her hands, and despite your previous regrets, you bite your lip to suppress a giggle. Her reaction was too cute.
"It's okay, really," you assure, and she drops her hands, still refusing to look at you. You smile, and continue walking. "Don't worry about it."
"But that's so embarrassing," she whines, and you laugh again.
"You were clearly having a good time."
"Yeah, but I didn't want you to hear," she sighs, and you pat her back.
"Well, at least we're even now."
"What do you mean?" she asks, puzzled.
Uh oh. She probably already forgot about the delivery situation, and you just brought it up for no reason. What the fuck was up with you right now? You were just saying anything.
"Oh, nevermind. Forget about it," you respond, waving her off.
"What was it, though? I haven't heard you…uh…do anything before," she protests, and you shrug, trying to brush her off.
"Nope! Forget about it! I confused you with someone else," you rush out, picking up your pace as you make eye contact with your building.
"You have another neighbor that could’ve potentially heard you having sex?" she replies, clearly confused, as she jogs slightly to catch up.
"No idea!" you sing, and open the door, stepping into the lobby.
"This makes no sense. Now I’m not gonna stop asking," she tells you, and you can't help but laugh.
"And I'm not going to stop avoiding the question."
"Y/n!"
You enter the elevator, and press the button to the 8th floor, watching her enter. You give a polite smile, and she sighs, giving up.
"Fine," she finishes with a pout.
The elevator goes up, and the two of you stand in comfortable silence. You don't know if it's because of the woman's earlier embarrassment, but something about tonight definitely has you feeling a little bold and ready to tease.
"Hey," you pipe up, and she looks over at you. "You guys were pretty loud."
"Shut up," she grumbles, and you can't help but smirk, watching her glare at the floor.
"My friends almost called the police. It sounded like you were committing murder."
"What?" she exclaims, and then groans. "Oh my god, don't."
"And I almost let them. I was like, woah. I knew this woman couldn't be entirely perfect and had to be keeping some sort of deep, dark, secret. But a serial killer? I would've never thought. Turns out you just had a serial moaner in there, I guess."
"Please stop."
"I mean, what were you doing to that poor girl. I—"
"At this point, it just seems like you're trying to get details out of me," she interjects.
"W-what?" you squeak, and she smiles, turning to look at you, suddenly cool and collected.
She shrugs. "You keep bringing it up."
You scoff. How dare she accuse you of such a thing! All of the thirst comments under her posts must have gotten to her head.
"You're ridiculous," you retort.
"Am I wrong, though?" she counters, and you stare at her with wide eyes.
"No," you reply quickly, and then you mentally facepalm, realizing what you said. "I mean yes. You're wrong."
"Right," she chuckles, and the elevator dings, the doors opening. "I have a question for you."
"Yeah, sure, what is it?" you ask, stepping out into the hallway.
She bites her lip, clearly trying to stifle a laugh. "Have you had the chance to use your Satisfyer Pro yet?"
Your jaw drops, aghast. "Wh-what? What the fu—"
"Goodnight, y/n," she grins, snickering as she runs inside her apartment like a little goblin, leaving you to watch her with a mixture of disbelief and irritation.
You can't help but let out a huff of laughter as you enter your own apartment.
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You're sitting in bed with a slice of cake on your lap, blanket tossed to the side due to the hot weather, binge-watching a new series. You contemplate checking your email for a message from that landlord, but decide against it, not wanting to put a damper on your decent mood. Instead, you tune in to another episode of a k-drama, in which the protagonist dies for a second time. Supposedly, it's for real this time.
You're about to finish the slice when there's a knock at the door. You frown, pausing the episode. You stand up, place the plate on the dresser, then walk towards the front door, peering through the peephole. Your heart begins to beat faster when you see a certain woman standing outside your apartment.
"What's up?" you greet, swinging the door open.
"Hey," she says, a soft smile on her face. She's wearing a pair of loose shorts and a white t-shirt, hair in a bun. Sweat glistens on her forehead, and her cheeks are flushed. You can't help but note how good she looks, despite looking rumpled.
"Hi," you respond, returning the smile. "What's going on?" you ask, leaning against the doorframe.
"So, uh, my air conditioning broke," she begins. "And I was wondering if I could hang out in your apartment for a bit? The maintenance people said they aren't going to be able to get here until tomorrow. Apparently they don't work on Sundays."
You've suddenly become aware of the fact that Bada has never been inside your apartment. The idea of her being inside the same room as you, sitting on your furniture, breathing in the scent of your home, sends a wave of heat down your spine. Maybe it was best to reject her offer and suggest another solution.
"Come on in!" you say, and open the door.
"Thank you," she breathes out, walking in, and your eyes rake over her figure as she passes by you.
She looks around, taking in the sight of your apartment. You notice her eyes linger on some of your old pictures from your hometown.
"Your apartment is really nice," she tells you, and you feel a rush of pride.
"Thank you! Feel free to take a seat wherever," you reply, gesturing towards the couch, and she sits, throwing her head back as she lets out a sigh of relief.
"You're a lifesaver," she declares, and you plop down next to her.
"What happened?" you ask, and she shakes her head.
”I wish I knew. I went to turn on my AC and it just, didn’t come on. Completely out of the blue.”
"That sucks," you respond, and she nods, a grim expression on her face.
"So," she begins, turning her head towards you. "How are you?"
"I'm fine," you answer, and then remember the slice of cake on the dresser. You point to it. "Would you like some?"
"Yes, please," she says, nodding fervently. "Water would be great, too, if you don't mind."
Grateful to put some distance between the two of you, you practically bounce out of your seat. "Coming right up!"
You return with two glasses of water and your cake. She thanks you, and you hand her a fork, taking one for yourself.
"This is really good, y/n. Did you make this too?" she praises, and you nod.
"I did. Thanks," you reply, taking a bite.
"You really need to give me the recipe for these things. Or start selling them! I'd buy them all," she compliments, and you blush, waving her off.
You stare at the ground for a moment, before laughing bitterly. "That was supposed to be the goal, I guess.”
She furrows her eyebrows. "What do you mean?"
You inhale slowly, prepping yourself. You hated this. But maybe you needed this. "I used to have my own bakery. In my hometown That's actually where I moved from. But then my landlord jacked the rent up and I couldn't afford it, and I was forced to close," you explain.
"Oh." She frowns. "That's awful. What a jerk."
"Tell me about it," you mumble, carelessly dropping your fork on the table.
"Are you looking for another place here?" she asks, and you nod.
"Yeah. There's a lot of great spots in Seoul, but there's one building in particular that I've had my eye on. It's not far from the Han River, and the rent is relatively cheap, and it's got everything I could possibly need. I'm just waiting to hear back from the that landlord. We were negotiating and things were going pretty well. But now its been months. I haven't heard from him since I moved here."
You blink back tears, and clear your throat, picking up the fork again. Whenever you think of everything that's happened to you recently, you cannot help but feel like an utter failure. You worked hard, finally achieved success, only for things to all fall apart. It seemed as if all of your efforts were for nothing.
"Hey," she whispers, and her voice is soft, calming. "It's gonna be okay."
She gently squeezes your arm, and her touch is warm. You look at her, and the tenderness in her eyes is enough to make you want to cry more.
"I know. It's just hard, sometimes," you confess, and her hand remains on your arm.
"I get that, but I can promise you that what you're going through is temporary. I can't tell you how many times I thought I was done for good when I first started out, but now, I've come this far. If you keep your head up, and just keep working hard, you'll make it. You’ve done it before.”
Her words resonate with you, and her unwavering support fills you with hope. "Thanks, Bada," you respond, smiling.
"Of course," she responds, her eyes never leaving yours. "I'm here for you."
"I'm here for you too," you whisper.
A moment of silence passes, and your eyes travel to her hand. Her skin is smooth, and her fingers are long and slender. You wonder what they'd feel like intertwined with yours.
"Um, I’ve been meaning to ask," she says, interrupting your thoughts, and your eyes meet hers again. "Any new dramas you wanted to tell me about? Or, what about the one with that married couple you talked about?”
You almost laugh at her obvious attempt to distract you from your depressing thoughts.
"Pretty good," you reply, and she gives you a pointed look.
"And by pretty good, you mean..."
"Amazing, wonderful, mind-blowing, spectacular," you continue, and she nods, satisfied. "I was actually watching it before you knocked on the door."
"Ooh, really?" she responds, eyes widening.
"Yeah. Would you like to watch it together?" you suggest, and she grins.
"Yes, please."
"Okay," you giggle, and grab the remote, pressing play.
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Halfway through the episode, you decide to move to your bedroom (because the AC works better in there, of course!). Somehow, while lying on the bed, your legs become intertwined. She's sprawled out, and her head is resting in the crook of your neck, her soft hair tickling your face.
You can feel her steady breathing, and the heat radiating off her body, and all of your senses are filled with her. You're so focused on her that you can't even focus on the episode.
"Y/n?" she murmurs, and her voice is low, quiet.
"Yeah?" you reply, voice equally as soft.
"Would it be weird if I said that I'm glad my air conditioner broke?"
You snort, and her body shakes with silent laughter. "Not at all."
You pause the show, and sit up. She does the same, and her eyes are shining.
"Do you want anything to eat? I've got chips, and some ice cream," you offer, and she bites her lip.
"Not really. Thanks, though," she responds, and your eyes travel to her lips. They're plump and pink, and you're tempted to reach out and kiss her.
"Okay, no problem," you say, and her gaze is intense, burning.
"Thanks for letting me come over. I appreciate it."
"Of course," you murmur, and then clear your throat. "Anytime."
"Really?"
"Yeah! You can even stay the night, if you want. I don't mind," you respond, and her eyebrows raise, lips curling upwards.
"Okay," she answers, and leans forward, cupping your face in her hands.
The action surprises you, and you let out a gasp. She pauses, eyes searching yours, and you nod, giving her permission.
She leans forward, and you close your eyes, waiting for her to press her lips against yours. Instead, you feel a pair of lips softly kissing your forehead, and your cheeks, and your jaw, and your nose, and then they finally, finally press against yours.
The kiss is gentle and sweet, and when she pulls away, her eyes are filled with affection.
"I've wanted to do that for so long," she admits, and you chuckle.
"Me too," you whisper, and her smile grows wider.
She moves closer to you, and you wrap your arms around her, pulling her into a hug. Her body is soft, and her skin is smooth, and you can feel her warmth seeping into your skin.
"I really like you, y/n," she whispers, and you tighten your hold on her.
"I really like you too, Bada," you respond, and she nuzzles her face into the crook of your neck. You're in heaven.
"Thank god. I was afraid I was making a fool out of myself," she confesses, and you giggle.
"What? Oh my god. Not at all," you assure her, and she pulls away, a smirk on her face.
"So, I was right about you wanting details?"
"Oh fuck you," you mutter, pulling her back into a significantly more aggressive kiss. A surprised noise escapes her lips, but she eventually melts into it, moving against you with equal fervor. Her hands run up and down your sides, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind, and you're so caught up in the sensation that you don't even realize when she starts straddling you until she presses her body against yours in a way that has you gasping.
Your hands travel underneath her shirt, feeling the smoothness of her warm skin, the lines of her stomach, the swell of her breasts, and the curves of her waist. She groans into the kiss before slipping her tongue into your mouth, causing heat to pool in the pit of your stomach.
When you pull away, she's panting, and her lips are swollen. Her hair is slightly mussed, and her pupils are dilated, her eyes filled with desire. Without words, you both begin removing each other's clothes, tossing them to the side. She's left in only a black bra and boxers, and you have to remind yourself to move.
She chuckles, and you stare at her chest. You can see the outline of her nipples, and you reach out, brushing a thumb against them, and she bites her lip, closing her eyes. You can feel her heart beating rapidly, and you trace circles around her nipples, and she lets out a shaky breath.
"Please," she begs, and you smile, pulling her into another kiss.
Your hands move lower, caressing the skin of her thighs, and then you're cupping her center, and she gasps, pulling away.
"Y/n," she pants, and the sound of her moaning your name sends another rush of heat down your spine.
"Bada," you breathe out, and press kisses against her jawline, and down her neck, and collarbone, and chest. Your hand is still between her thighs, and she bucks her hips, trying to find friction.
"Y/n, please," she repeats, and the desperation in her voice is so fucking hot.
You slip a finger inside her, and you feel her walls immediately clench, followed by a whimper you're not sure belongs to you or her. You curl your finger inside her, and her head falls back into the crook of your neck as she rolls her hips, grinding against your palm.
"More," she practically demands, and you add another finger.
She's soaking wet, and the lewd sounds coming from your fingers sliding in and out of her has you squeezing your thighs together, desperate for some sort of relief.
You use your thumb to rub circles on her clit, and her movements become more erratic, her moans becoming louder.
"I'm gonna-ugh," she pants, and her nails dig into your skin as she orgasms.
You can feel her walls clenching and unclenching, and her body trembles, her eyes squeezed shut. She breathes heavily, and the sight of her is enough to drive you wild.
You continue stroking her until she opens her eyes, and you can't help but grin.
"Holy shit," she manages, and you remove your fingers, and she lets out a moan.
"Good?"
"Yes," she replies, and leans forward, capturing your lips in a heated kiss.
"Now," she begins, breaking away. "Let me take care of you."
You can only nod as she reaches for your breasts, fondling them, and her eyes never leave yours. She's smirking, and the intensity in her gaze is enough to make your heart skip a beat.
You close your eyes, enjoying the sensation, and you nearly jump when you feel her body shift, her lips pressing against the sensitive skin of your neck.
She moves down, taking a nipple into her mouth, and you groan, arching your back. Her lips travel to your stomach, and then your thighs, and then you're lifting your hips, and she's sliding your underwear off.
"Spread your legs, y/n," she requests, and her voice is low, seductive.
You obey immediately, and then her tongue is inside you, and her fingers are on your clit, and your entire body is on fire. She sucks on your clit, and then makes headway further down, sliding her tongue inside you. You can't stop the moans that escape from your mouth, and you're certain the whole complex can hear, but you don't care.
Suddenly, she stops, and looks up at you. Your eyes snap open, annoyed by the interruption until you observe the way he's smiling, her chin slick with your wetness.s
"I wanna try something," she begins, and she sits up, scanning the room. "Where's that thing you got the other day?"
You bite back a moan. "Nightstand drawer."
She opens it, and takes out a small, pink object. Your face flushes as she turns it on, the vibrations audible in the otherwise quiet room.
"Is this okay?" she asks, and you nod, eager.
"Yes," you answer, and her mouth returns to your center.
She teases your entrance with the object, and the combination of her tongue and the vibrator has you squirming, your hands finding their way to her head, holding her in place.
"Oh god," you whimper, and the pleasure is indescribable.
Her tongue picks up speed, and then the vibrator enters you, and you nearly scream.
She pushes the toy in and out, and as it vibrates against your clit, and begin to feel like you can't take anymore. Your back arches, and a wave of euphoria washes over you as your orgasm hits, and the only thing you can see is the light from the lamp and the white of the ceiling.
When you regain control of your senses, you can feel her body lying on top of yours, her head on your chest. You lay in silence, trying to catch your breath, and it isn't until you hear her voice that you speak.
"How are you doing?"
"Sleepy," you mumble, and she smiles, pecking you on the lips.
"Then let's go to sleep."
You can only nod as your eyes slowly close and your mind becomes hazy. Before you drift off completely, you think to yourself that this might've been the best night you've had since moving here.
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Two weeks later, you and Bada are going up the elevator to your respective apartments after a walk from your job. You'd just spent the past hour gossiping in between taking customer's orders. Apparently, Mijoo and Naeun are going out. Figures. You hoped it worked out for them, but nobody was beating the blissful few weeks you've.
The two of you are holding hands, and your free one is holding a box containing a dozen chocolate chip cookies, made especially for Bada.
"I'm thinking of moving out," she suddenly states, and the statement catches you off guard.
"What? Why?" you ask, and she shrugs.
"It's about time. I can afford a better place, and I'm ready to move on from the apartment life. I need a house."
"I can understand that," you reply, nodding.
"You should move in with me," she continues, and the statement makes you laugh.
"What? Are you crazy? We just got together."
"Who cares? I want to live with you. Don't you want to live with me?" she responds, pouting, and she gives you puppy dog eyes.
"Yes, but...," you pause, and you can tell from the expression on her face that she's serious.
"But what? What's the problem?"
"Nothing. Let's do it."
"Really?"
"Yes, really," you confirm, and she beams, leaning in to kiss you.
You can't believe what you just agreed to. But, in a way, you're relieved. Maybe this will finally bring a sense of finality to everything that's happened.
"Damn, guess I'm gonna have to tell Jennifer about us. She's coming out here soon," you mutter, opening your email app. You go to type in your friend's email, but your eyes land on an unread email in your inbox, sent two weeks ago. It's from an unknown sender, and the subject is 'Regarding Your Application.'
Your eyes widen, and Bada nosily peers over your shoulder, reading the words.
"What's that?" she asks, and you gulp.
"I don't know."
"Open it!" she exclaims, and you do.
Y/N,
This is Kim Sung Soo, the owner of the property you inquired about. I was out of town for business and unable to contact you regarding your application. I've looked through the papers, and everything seems to be in order. I'd like to meet up with you so we can further discuss the terms of the lease before we finalize anything. When are you available?
"Oh my god," Bada gasps, and she stares at you, wide-eyed.
"What the hell?" you whisper, and Bada squeals.
"Oh, y/n! This is so exciting! Congratulations! I knew it would work out. Now, you can start your bakery, and we can move in together, and oh, my god, I'm so happy!"
"I'm confused," you mutter barely believing your luck, and the elevator dings, indicating that the two of you have arrived.
"Don't worry about it, okay? Come on, let's go have some cookies," she says, tugging on your arm.
You nod, following her down the hall without a hint of resistance. As you watch the woman drag you with a giant smile on her face, you cannot help but giggle. Who knew you'd find home and happiness in such an unlikely place?
#bada lee#bada lee fanfic#bada lee imagine#bada lee fluff#bada lee x reader#bada lee x y/n#street woman fighter 2#swf2
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patterned palmistry ⋆ | ellie williams headcanons
༺ ellie x witch!reader headcanons/scenarios ༻ ☽𖤐☾
✧˖ ° 🕯 bright blessings!
an: being the witchy little gremlin i am i just had to throw some hcs together for myself but ofc i'd share them here🙄ive been practicing witchcraft since i was 15 so it felt fitting to incorporate it whenever i brace my delusions at the bootycrack of midnight that r all abt ellie 💀 regardless this def isnt gonna be my only witchy hcs post i just didnt wanna spoil all my ideas right away <3
tags: MDNI, slight nsfw (no detailed smut), boob jokes, witchcraft (obv), tarot, palm reading, mostly convos, flirting, not mentioned in the writing but u 2 r alrdy dating, playful bickering, more natural casual writing with some bigger words, no specific religion tied to the practice, generally a fluff piece, lowk cute moments.
°________________________⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆__________________________°
I. ☆ ellie definitely had a peak in curiosity the first time you mentioned you immerse yourself in the world of the craft, her ears perked figuratively and were tuned in to learn what that entails. she may not forfeit a nip of skepticism right away but she's more than happy to engross herself in the idea of it. you'd stay up till first light rambling on about the 'rituals', 'divination', the history tied to it and why you practice it. you'd be lying in bed adjacent to her, heavenward to the ceiling, but interwoven in a warm and loving cuddle with her palm residing on your lap whilst you chatted.
"mmmmh-" ellie's hum churns 'round your bedroom, "so that's why you collect rocks."
"crystals."
"same thing," she drones an inwardly giggle, "which crystal will give me superpowers?" a witty remark springs from her tongue.
"babe.." you pout, acting offended yet none is taken.
"didn't mean it like that, y'know I believe you, it's all just new to me." ellie tapes an assuring kiss to your temple, "tell me about your favorite crystals, hmm?"
⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆
II. ☆ now because of this, anytime you're out on patrol and delight the opportunity of scavenging, she always keeps in mind to find you flowers, rocks, unused candles and other oddities of nature.
"hey babe! I found a black candle for'ya." ellie bolstered a long glass cylinder filled with an opaque charcoal wax, wick still intact, "and- ..some wild lavender." her other arm swings from behind her back, twines of dusty purple lavender upheld in a pinch.
"fuck yeah, needed this stuff.." you graciously tweak the lavender from her, whiffing up its poignant scent.
"always on the lookout.." her voice resembles her proud countenance outwards, essentially, a dorky smirk.
⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆
III. ☆ obviously, the second you mentioned the art of tarot to her, she begged for a reading. whenever a card flew from your shuffling motions, she'd patiently wait for you to place it before her and then she'd swipe it up and admire the art piece detailing the cardstock.
"whew! look at the boobs on this one!"
"oh- my god, of course you'd point that out." you snatch the card from her, shamelessly ogling the nude depiction that had her attention.
"you're looking at them too!"
"cuz' you said something 'bout it!" you flick the card towards her face, noting, "those are some nice boobs though."
"why thank you~"
"wasn't talking about you, idiot!"
"eh, but.. urs' are the best." her hoarse tone binds a nonchalant flirtiness in its rumble.
"oh really? should we compare the.. four?"
that really stole her attention.
⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆
IV. ☆ the first time you entertained her with a palm reading, it had her all dappy and touched to the essence at the paltry contact you made with her hand. your fingerprints drafting her calloused palms with such a gentle focus on every river lining her hand. she just wanted to smother you with kisses.
"and… this is your heart line." your finger hovers the crevice of her palm-pads stretching from index to pinkie, "ah.. it's a broken one.."
"is that.. bad?" her juniper eyes study your expression meticulously.
"it just means u're closed off, stubborn, have some emotional trauma.. stuff like that." you mindlessly fiddle with her fingers, "lines can change though, so.."
she nods, taking in the insight. she licks her slightly chapped lips clean, "am I stubborn?" her voice rises partially an octave, bending playfulness in her question.
"mm.. no."
"why'd you hesitate?"
"well- the only times ur' stubborn is refusing to let go whenever you hug me- ur' a life-size sloth!"
"I like huggin' you though." a puppy pout frowns on her lips, "you're like a pillow!"
and oh, how your heart capers a beat, "is that all I am, williams?"
her swift speech conjuncts, "whaddid' I say about that name?!"
"I don't know, I think you like it."
"nuh-uh I don't!"
you pepper a haste kiss to her knuckles still forcepped in your clasp, totally deterring the crime you've just committed when a half impish half taken aback smile creaks her lips.
"c'mere." vaults from her tongue before she lunges her body forward and tackles you in a saucy position riddled with love bites. guess you'll be reading her palms in a different way tonight.
⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆
V. ☆ an bonus hc, you'd totally mention out of the void about her tattoo n the mystic meanings surrounding moths, like, its for sure one of the topics you'll ramble about one night cause you just feel so wise for knowing.
"y'know, moths play a pretty large role in the metaphysical world."
"really? i mean, i knew they had some kind of.. 'symbolism' to them-" ellie's hand rolls over the knoll of her forearm, reading the bumps glamoured in that beautiful inking.
"yeah, like- luna moths represent transformation, renewal.. oh! and death-head moths are an omen of death.. an- and black witch moths mean either good luck, or bad-"
ellie is amused at your prattle shown by her raspy giggles, legitimately having to conceal her scrunched face.
"what?"
"nothin' you- you're just so cute."
"stop.." the embarrassment catches up to you, now having to hide your face to the shadows beneath your hands.
her finger cranes out to hook and uncover your nerdy grin, assuring, "never stop tellin' me bout this stuff, ok babe?" a wide delighted beam syncs on her cheeks.
goddess above, her dimples and nasal lines are to die for.
⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆
𖤐
in general; she's a curious dork n will ask you oh so many questions, i mean, she loves space and a futuristic sci-fi comic for crying out loud, she's alrdy so imaginative so ofc she'd be open to a realistic amount. she'd also be so respectful and helpful n defend ur practice with so much love. maybe she'd pick up some little traditions and customs like folding letters a specific amount of times, drawing little pentacles, mixing liquid in specific directions, just the simple things that grow on her.
#ellie williams#ellie x reader#ellie williams x fem!reader#ellie tlou#the last of us#the last of us 2#ellie williams fic#ellie williams smut#lesbian#sapphic#ellie williams headcanons#ellie smut#ellie williams fanfiction#ellie williams x reader#ellie the last of us#ellie williams x you#ellie williams x witch#ellie headcanons#tlou headcanons
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One Rule Down
Part 2 of The rules are made to be broken series (18+)
part 1 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6
Main masterlist | The Rookie masterlist
Tim Bradford x female!TO!reader
Fandom: The Rookie
Warnings: NFSW, explicit sexual content. 18+, mentions of blood, shooting, GSW, pain, r being shot, not proofread yet.
Summary: Tim breaks one rule after you got hurt on a call.
Smut
A/N: def not the fic I had in mind to post. I seriously forgot abt this series and I loved writing it. Still in my break, but found this in my drafts and I said why not. @senjoritanana thanks for reminding me of this series ✨
Requested: no
Words: 1.9k
GIF not mine, credits to the owner!
The radio crackled to life with the urgent call—a report of a disturbance at a convenience store on the outskirts of the city. Without hesitation, you and your rookie sprang into action, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you raced toward the scene.
Arriving at the store, you were met with chaos. Shattered glass littered the pavement, and panicked screams filled the air as bystanders fled in all directions. Nolan took cover behind the shop, scanning the area for any sign of danger, while you positioned yourself nearby, ready to support him at a moment's notice.
"LAPD! Drop your weapons!" you demanded, but the only response was something far away from cooperation.
A group of armed men emerging from the store, their faces obscured by masks as they brandished weapons with lethal intent. You're outnumbered, you thought to yourself.
"7-Adam-15, requesting backup at the 6077 W 3rd street. Eight armed men, no sight of cooperation." you radioed, watching over Nolan's.
You nodded your head, silently telling him backup is on its way and to proceed only if necessary before help arrives.
But before you could even react, a figure emerged behind Nolan, a weapon glinting in their hand. Instinct took over as you lunged forward, pushing Nolan out of harm's way just as the gunman opened fire.
As you moved to shield Nolan from an oncoming barrage of bullets, a searing pain ripped through your side, causing you to stumble backward with a cry of agony. Blood stained your uniform as you collapsed to the ground, your vision swimming with pain and adrenaline.
Pain exploded through your body as the bullet struck true, sending you crashing to the ground in a heap. The world spun around you as you struggled to catch your breath, the taste of copper lingering on your tongue as darkness threatened to consume you.
"7-Adam-15, requesting backup and R/A to my location, officer down!" you heard Nolan's voice crackle over the radio, his words a distant echo in your ears as you fought to stay conscious. "I repeat, officer down!" Through blurred vision, you watched as Nolan returned fire, his movements swift and precise as he engaged the gunman in a fierce firefight.
But as the minutes dragged on, your strength waned, your vision growing dimmer with each passing moment. The pain was unbearable, a searing heat that radiated through your body, but still, you refused to give up.
With every ounce of strength you could muster, you reached for your radio, your fingers trembling as you struggled to make contact with dispatch. "Backup… R/A… officer down," you managed to choke out, your voice barely a whisper as darkness threatened to claim you.
As Officer Bradford heard Nolan's panicked voice crackling over the radio, a cold chill ran down his spine, sending shivers of fear coursing through his veins. Without a moment's hesitation, he knew something was terribly wrong with you, and he couldn't bear the thought of you in danger.
Ignoring all protocol and the rules you both agreed upon, Tim threw caution to the wind and bolted into action, his heart pounding in his chest as he raced through the streets of Los Angeles to get to you. Beside him, Lucy Chen clung to her seat, her eyes wide with concern as she tried to keep up with Tim's breakneck speed.
"Backup… R/A… officer down," your voice echoed through the radio, broken and shattered as his heart sank, tightening the grip on the steering wheel.
Arriving at the scene, Tim didn't even bother assessing the situation—he simply rushed to your side, his heart in his throat as he took in the sight of you lying on the ground, blood pooling beneath you. Panic gripped him like a vice as he knelt beside you, his hands trembling as he reached out to touch your face, his touch gentle yet urgent.
"Hey, hey, Y/N, can you hear me?" Tim's voice was hoarse with emotion, his eyes scanning your pale face for any sign of consciousness. "Hang in there, okay? Help is on the way."
It's been months since you both agreed to those rules and everything was by the book. You were seeing Tim almost every night, finding solace in each other's arms, pleasure blooming between you.
Despite his efforts to remain composed, Tim's façade of strength crumbled in the face of your injuries, his hands shaking as he applied pressure to your wound, his mind racing with a million different fears and possibilities. He knew he had broken the rule you both agreed upon, but in that moment, all he could think about was you—your safety, your well-being, your life hanging in the balance.
As the minutes ticked by agonizingly slowly, Tim's anxiety only grew, his heart hammering in his chest as he prayed for the sound of approaching sirens. He didn't care about the suspects still at large or the chaos unfolding around him—all that mattered was you, lying there before him, fighting for your life.
He had broken the cardinal rule, the one about not letting your personal lives disturb your professional duties. And in doing so, he had shattered the fragile balance you had worked so hard to maintain.
Yet, amidst the turmoil of your emotions, there was a part of you that couldn't help but feel grateful for Tim's presence by your side. Despite his gruff exterior and tendency to push people away, he had rushed to your aid without a moment's hesitation, his concern and fear evident in every word and gesture.
As for Tim, he couldn't shake the sense of guilt that weighed heavily on his shoulders. He had broken the rules, betrayed the trust of the one person who meant more to him than he cared to admit. He cursed himself for allowing his emotions to cloud his judgment, as he reached out to take your hand in his, a silent vow formed in Tim's heart: no matter what the future held, he would do everything in his power to protect you and keep you safe, even if it meant breaking the rules one more time.
The front door opened with a loud noise, drifting you off sleep. Tangled in your sheets, enjoying the silence of some time away from the chaos, it was your last night before you're back on duty.
You haven't heard from Tim since you were shot. After a short visit from him while you were in hospital, too drugged to process what happened, you were left with a buzzing phone, messages from Nolan and Lucy making your days pass agonizingly slow.
There he was today, holding some takeaway in one hand, blocking the light from the hallway penetrate your bedroom. He was tall and imposing, wearing the uniform that made him look like a Greek God.
You didn't make a sound, waiting for him to make the first move "Bought you some food."
He motioned to the bags in his hand as you secretly thanked him. John and Lucy took shifts to drop by your house and bring you something to eat, especially in the first days, when it was impossible for you to move more than ten steps without cursing between your teeth and question the day you decided to become a cop. You don't regret it, but for your safety it was better if you would've chosen another path.
"Thank you," you replied to him, as you tried to maintain a serious expression. You tried to make things as easier as they were, not showing any signs of your feelings, but it was in vain.
Things weren't going to be back as how they were before Tim broke that rule. It wasn't just about the rules, it was about the consequences of his actions, leaving two rookies to handle a situation way out of their league as he rushed to your side, those dangerous men almost slipping away.
Neither of you didn't say a word as you finished the food. He knew he messed up, and it was funnier than it should've been. Tim was the one who came up with those fucking rules and he was the one breaking them. You did it yourself, officer.
Before you could process, you found yourself swirling your tongue around his in a desperate desire. Tim wasn't far behind you, catching up immediately the rhythm of your movements, not backing up any second. He needed this more than he wanted to admit. He needed your touch. He needed to touch you and make sure you're okay.
Keeping his distance in a moment he knew you wished someone to be there by your side, was killing him. But it was necessary, since both of you started to drift off from the rules. And Tim always goes by book. Well, with some exceptions that happen to include you.
Longing for his touch, for him helping you feel anything but pain, decided to get rid of your clothes as quickly as you could. You needed to feel him inside you, to make you whole again.
He was moving painfully slow, memorizing every inch of your skin. You let him guide the rhythm, as you enjoyed his hands on your body, driving you crazy with every kiss placed on your skin. You run your fingers lightly down his body, feeling his boner pressing hard on you.
You wanted him inside you, you wanted to feel him and forget about everything that happened. He traced the shape of your wound, as he teased your nipples slowly, leaving warm marks on them.
"Damn, you are so perfect." he breathed, enjoying the sight of your curves embraced by the warm light laying over them. All of your scars are visible, letting both of you vulnerable. But it didn't stop you.
He cupped your cheeks, pressing his forehead against yours as he closed the distance separating you, making you escape a loud moan of desire that you were holding for too long.
Both your bodies were filled with a warm wetness as he moved slowly inside you, like he didn't want to cause you any more pain. His kisses were sweet and tender, caressing your body as his movements drove you crazy any second. Something in his movements changed, being more gentle, like he didn't want it to stop.
Something in his motion made you wonder if it has to do with his fear of losing you, the same fear that clouded his mind the other days.
The rhythm became more chaotic and intense as you threw your head back into the pillows, tugging on the sheets as pleasure exploded between you in synchrony. Digging your fingers into Tim's shoulders as you locked his gaze, the climax was approached with a sudden burst of energy, making your bodies shake uncontrollably as he was buried deep inside.
After the moment consumed, you thought he'd disappear into the night so suddenly as his arrival. But he didn't, he hold you close, afraid if he'd let go of you, he'll never see you again.
He couldn't understand his feelings, why he desperately wanted to make sure you're okay. You're a grown up woman who can take care of yourself, but still he was there afraid he can't protect you. And he wanted to be able to protect you. In none of the rules wasn't specified that you are not allowed to care for each other, and he placed his care into the professional relationship. But it was far from the truth.
#tim bradford the rookie#tim bradford#tim bradford imagine#tim bradford x reader#the rookie#tim bradford x you#the rookie imagine#the rookie x reader#tim bradford imagines#the rookie one shot#tim bradford smut#tim bradford angst#the rookie fic#tim bradford x y/n#the rookie x y/n#the rookie smut#the rookie fanfic#tim bradford fanfic#tim the rookie angst#tim the rookie imagine#tim the rookie smut#tim the rookie#one rule down#the rules are made to be broken#series#the rookie series#the rookie fic series#tim bradford series#tim bradford fic series#fanfic series
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yandere class 1a hcs because im a degenerate (seperate and togetherish)
okay, for a bit of context, the reader has an earthbending quirk where they can bend anything that comes from the earth (obvs) and theyre very talented at it! theyre so good that if theres even a speck of dirt in a glass of water they could bend it (which is why they get mistaken for having a quirk that controls all the elements instead of just earth)
however, a really big drawback is the fact that they have to be barefoot/wear thin shoes to bend properly so they feel more in-tune with the earth and whatnot
another drawback is that they can feel and "hear" a lot of things with their quirk as long as their wearing thin/no shoes, so hearing other people talk while they can feel the earth rumble beneath them is a bit overwhelming, which is why i feel that the reader wouldnt talk as to not overwhelm themselves too much
however, that doesnt stop the chaotic class 1a, because of course it doesnt
when y/n transfers to ua, the class immediately falls in love with them!
their bubbly personality, their kindness, their smile
if the class could make a list about all the things they love about y/n, it would be at least a lightyear long
i feel like tokoyami, darkshadow and the bakusquad would be the most adamant on trying to get them to speak to them
because even though they like it when they pay attention and sign to them, they need to hear their darling speak!!!
it'd be pretty funny if dark shadow scared them to try and get them to make even the tiiiiiniest noise and y/n turns around slowly and stares until he retreats back to tokoyami (he was a bit jealous that he wasnt looked at like that by them, but whatever)
one day, denki walks by y/n's dorm and hears a voice--their voice
his heart starts beating fast bc omg!!!! he finally heard their beautiful voice!!!
y/n, who can literally feel heartbeats thru their feet, opens the door and is in shock (the pun was intended) that denki is just standing there like the lovesick buffoon he is he totally got their voice recorded too
y/n asks if they can see his phone so they can "record" their singing voice
they then proceed to delete the recording
denki is FLOORED, his flabbers are ghasted!!!
uhhh i dont feel like writing more of the story so heres a rapid fire of random ideas
the whole class has definitely pretended to be sick/hurt multiple times so that their sweet darling would "nurse" them back to "health"
one time shoto used his quirk to make his body hot so it would seem like a fever and y/n touched his forehead and said "omg sho, ur so hot!!! :((("
he fainted from that and had to be taken to the nurse for realsies
izuku has broken his bones just so y/n would give him attention
which is, i kid you not, what made them realize they could bend bone
they taught themselves how to mend, break, and move bone to their will and izuku was so proud!!! (btw he totally has multiple notebooks abt them and their quirk)
iida and todoroki have tried multiple times to pay the reader to talk
mina got them to speak by giving them kool-aid jammers and white peaches
there have been so many times y/n has made ochako so happy that she floats
they have to use their quirk to get her downnnn
there was one time the class went to a pool and tsuyu said it was cold :( so y/n literally bent lava ever-so-slightly closer to the surface of the earth to make sure she wasnt as cold
bakugo has yelled at y/n to talk and they've signed "shh, im mewing" so many times
speaking of them signing, during the sports festival i feeel liek they could body shinso so easily
they learned that they could bend bone AND they never talk, so they just bend his ass out of the ring
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"Both Sides Of Silence" - Radiosilence fic
Word count: 3.5k
A/N I made a rant abt this (here)and decided to write it and ended up getting swept up in it haha.
This is my personal headcanon on how Alastor reacted when his friendship with Vox ended
Cw: SFW, angst
The state of Alastor's room was horrendous. The radio host's quarters could normally be described as rather unnerving due to their decor, however the space now looked like a downright horror show.
It was as if a storm had raged within with furniture overturned and scratched up, vases and photo frames broken - all of this leaving a hazardous mixture of glass fragments, splinters and lounge stuffing strewn everywhere.
In the middle of the mess, said demon’s form crumpled against the floor. Alastor's claws gripped at his hair, pulling hard upon it as he shook with heaving breaths, a mixture of despair and boiling rage inside of him, making him even more volatile than usual.
The object of his plight's photo sat before him. An unwanted reminder of the first time he and his former friend met.
Allowing Vox to take a photo with him had been an olive branch he reached out to the other demon, rarely offered outside of special circumstances.
Seeing it now stung him deep, bringing inner turmoil unlike anything the cannibalistic overlord had felt in a long long time.
An actual, real bond with someone had become an estranged concept to him during his time in hell. After his mother died, he'd severed every last attachment to anyone else, only really playing into superficial, shallow attachments to others. Nothing that couldn't easily be brushed off.
Or at least, he thought he had.
The snapped cord of his friendship with the TV demon truly cut him deep in a way that he thought was not possible.
The fact of the matter filled him with such visceral self-disgust that he fought the need to dry heave as his claws sank into his scalp in an attempt to ground himself. It inevitably failed as his mind once again revisited the damned situation that had unfolded just hours before for the umpteenth time that night.
-
A friendly get-together with Vox, just a drink at a quiet bar they often met at when they had time to do so just like any other.
Through the whole night the TV demon had seemed as if he had been stressed about something. They conversed as usual, backed by soft jazz music in the cozy wooden interior of the joint, however it was obvious to Alastor that his companion was out of sorts.
Vox's blue claws fidgeted from where he gripped at his drink - a nervous tell which Alastor had long ago picked up from his first meetings with him in the old days - his shoulders hunched in the orange turtleneck sweater he wore.
“You have been shaking like a leaf this whole time. What seems to be the matter, my friend?” Alastor asked after taking a sip of his whiskey, gently tilting the glass back and forth causing the amber liquid to swish around.
His red eyes looked to the side at the other demon with a casual half-lidded stare, drinking in every small reaction the TV demon gave with a finely tuned expertise despite his exterior.
Vox visibly flinched, caught off guard by the sudden call to his behaviour. His CRT head coyly tilted in Alastor's direction, small pupils looking to the side at him and shoulders hunching further and making himself even smaller where he sat as if in an attempt to give himself more security.
A rather peculiar response. Not something unexpected to the deer demon at all however, Vox's unique responses and attitude was something Alastor quite enjoyed about him, it was what made him interesting.
“It's nothing. Well not yet at least..” Vox mumbled quietly, trailing off vaguely. Alastor hummed curiously while quirking a brow. Vox flushed nervously, his heart rate picking up.
Vox had long since discovered his feelings for Alastor but had stayed quiet in fear that it would ruin their friendship. In the beginning, he was content with that, just letting their relationship stay how it always had been - purely platonic. That was the safe option.
It just grew more intrusive the longer he didn't say anything though.
Alastor didn't like to be touched, but was far too content in getting in others’ personal space if it was on his own terms - including Vox’s own. Every time his shoulders or arms or god forbid face were touched briefly by the deer it sent his heart aflutter and he could barely keep himself together.
Even the memory of the last time almost sent him sparking. When he thought of those red eyes looking down at him, claws on either side of his face, he knew that he would surely burn himself up if he didn't finally say something. It was agony to stay silent.
What was the worst that could happen? A rejection? It wasn't like that would end everything they had worked for. In his mind, he knew Alastor enough to surely say he wouldn't up and leave him over this. They'd known each other too long for all of that to be ruined by this... Right?
Alastor watched Vox’s internal strife with amused curiosity as he casually fidgeted with the lip of his glass, waiting expectantly.
Vox cleared his throat, straightening up and trying to put on a confident and sure face. “Alastor, we have known each other for years now. And.. I'd argue to say that we are quite good pals at this point,” Vox began strongly, grinning at Alastor. His grin faltered a bit and his cheeks flushed as he watched the radio demon's eyebrow only raise even further. Vox coughed into his hand. “I would also argue that we would work well together as more than just.. friends… who occasionally work together as purely business partners.” Vox finished, looking at Alastor and trying to find some kind of reassurance.
He didn't find any.
Alastor's ear twitched slightly as if he was trying to better process what he'd just heard. He felt a stab of unsureness that mixed with his stomach dropping inside of him. He didn't show it yet however and instead laughed. “Apologies darling! I'm not quite sure I follow. Are you asking to become permanent business partners?” He hoped that was what he was on about, and not the alternative which had his hackles rising.
Vox gulped, taking the question as genuine confusion about his rather vague choice of words. “N-not quite just that.. listen.. I,” Vox glanced at Alastor's other hand unoccupied by his drink just resting on the bar and tentatively reached out his hand to gently take it in his own. “Alastor, I don't want to just be business partners. I want to be partners in general. I'm in.. Jesus,” Vox gulped, trying to will his mouth to stop being so damn dry. “...I'm in love with you.” Vox’s brow furrowed as he gently squeezed Alastor’s hand in his, looking up at him with a soft expression, vulnerable in a way Vox would normally have squashed instantaneously.
Alastor’s eyes blew open wide making him ironically resemble a deer in headlights, lip curling as he processed the interaction and confession. His usually wide pupils shrunk as he looked down at his palm in Vox’s, utter disgust rocking through him at the sight.
Vox felt his heart break at the way Alastor was looking at him holding his hand, and awkwardly laughed in an attempt to fight the pit of absolute mortification consuming him, making him want to melt into the ground and disappear.
“I- s-sorry I just thought you may have understood. Maybe even felt the same- I mean we've known each other so long and have been close for-” Vox began to say, voice glitching out with heavy emotion. He flinched hard, silenced as Alastor suddenly ripped his hand away hard in contrast to his soft hold.
“No.” Alastor sharply, turning his nose up at Vox with a sneer, irritation filling him at the assumption.
Vox's humiliation at the nature of his rejection grew as Alastor quite literally looked down upon him. “right… sorry. I should have known,” Vox apologised, looking to the side with his cheeks burning under the weight of his gaze. “We have been close so long that I should have known better-” He was cut off by a cold bark of laughter.
“Stop saying that,” Alastor’s anger raised quickly, loud, angry static seeping through his usual facquade of uncaring. “If you think that you know me that way, then you severely overestimate your worth to me, my ‘friend’.”
Alastor was disgusted enough by the declaration, but his insistence that they were ‘close’ was what got under his skin the most. The reason for this? He couldn't quite grasp it at that exact moment. It would of course come later.
Vox let out a laugh this time, disbelief turning into him being more angrier than anything - a laughably similar response to the one Alastor was having simultaneously. “Oh you have to be kidding me! Don't act like we aren't best friends just because you don't like that I have feelings for you, you pompous old-timey radio fuck! We are close friends and you know damn fucking we-”
“No,” Vox felt the statement in every part of himself, it finally being the thing to break his steadily cracking heart into pieces. Vox fell silent, a look of struck anguish written all over his face.“You serve as occasional entertainment for me from your hollow, far lesser medium. Don't you dare act like we were, would be or even could ever be equals.” Alastor spat, rising from his seat.
Vox didn't even react to the insult to his work, feeling all encompassing numbness as the lights overhead flashed once, then twice, then clicked off as Alastor began to grow in size, more substantial antlers growing from his head and flashing green symbols surrounding him threateningly.
The TV demon shook, frozen in place on the bar stool, eyes wide and terrified despite the pervasive feeling of emptiness within him, blue pupils impossibly small as he looked into the rapidly spinning dials in his former best friend's eyes.
Alastor hunched over him and slowly raised his claws to grip either one of Vox's shoulders hard, digging into his turtleneck and skin below painfully, causing the TV demon to wince.
Alastor lowered his face, moving it close to Vox's screen and breathing out deeply, relishing in the way Vox shuddered at his hot breath fanning across his face with a grin that did not reflect his tone or true expression in the slightest.
Alastor then proceeded to stomp upon the shards of years of friendship seemingly with no care at all in one last statement, which brought tears to the already mentally crushed TV demon's eyes.
“You are nothing to me.”
-
But that wasn't true at all.
Alastor had disappeared in a flourish afterwards, leaving Vox shaking and alone in the bar, stalking home, and then absolutely losing his mind in private.
Alastor’s hands shook, slowly ripping through his hair and pulling out a few strands as he snapped back to reality and grit his teeth, lips twitching out of his perfect, unwavering grin for a second again as he looked at the smiling image of them together.
The truth was that he undeniably cared for Vox.
All these hollow, surface-level friendships which served as temporary entertainment that he held with demons like Mimzy paled in comparison to what they had.
Although still seldom, Alastor had shared much more of the truth with him than he had with others; about the same as with Rosie. The difference of course being their public rivalry unlike with Rosie. More even ground in which they were equal threats to one-another's power over the people of pentagram city.
He shuddered at the thought.
They were rivals, and with horror, he realised that he almost did regard Vox as his equal in their friendship. Enough to form a genuine care for him that wasn't solely him simply using Vox to meet his own ends.
They were close, and the fact of that hit him in a terrifying way as his old friend's absence burned an empty pit within him.
He was such an utter fool for letting it get to this point where he needed to destroy every last tie to stay powerful but simply couldn't.
His hands shook as he looked down at the photograph taunting him once again; him knowing he had to destroy it but not being able to.
Shameful weakness.
Alastor let out a frustrated growl, squeezing his eyes shut as he gripped at the photograph and ripped it down the middle.
He slammed either half of the photo on the floor in either hand, looking at the damage done. A literal physical manifestation of the relationship he'd metaphorically ripped down the middle.
Alastor would scoff at the symbolism normally with laughter, thinking it a stupid display of weakness of those far lesser then he if there weren't currently tears falling from his eyes onto the patch of wooden floor in between where either half of the photograph now sat apart.
He grit his teeth at the realisation that he was crying. For the first time since his mother died, he was actually weeping for another. The revelation curled as nauseating disgust for the demon, and he cursed the TV demon more than anything for making him this weak. Weak like him.
He needed to sever ties.
He needed to stop caring.
He needed to erase the TV demon from his life completely.
He knew all of that and yet…
Alastor laughed now - a sound without a lick of sanity behind it-, smiling as he gripped the half of the photo with Vox on it, falling back onto the floor and holding up the torn photo, looking up at it in the dim light of his room
The wooden floor uncomfortably dug into his back, but he didn't care at all. Alastor's laughing slowly died out, turning instead into a sound much like breathless sobbing.
“You will pay for doing this to me.” Alastor's red eyes shook, fluttering between his normal pupils and the dials as he regarded his next action with shaky euphoria, the emotion stretching itself over the logical side of himself screaming to let it go.
Alastor's anger of also being caught up in the silence he was supposed to have control over won over all rational decision making.
I will make sure that you need me just as much as I need you, you new-age trash.
Alastor's lips quivered around his wide grin as he gave a chuckle that was all too forced, pressing the back of his hand across his eyes and wiping away his tears, internally squashing his insecurity down and pretending he didn't care.
Even if he knew he did deep down, all that mattered was that onlookers, and especially Vox, didn't see that.
He would remain unbothered externally while locking the truth up deep inside that in the end the radio demon would be just as obsessed with Vox as he is with him.
-
After a long night of drowning his sorrows, the last thing Vox wanted was to answer the front door and face anybody. He of course, did anyways. If it was a business opportunity, it would hardly be wise to skip out on it. Especially after…
Vox shook his head with a hissing breath, trying to will the memory of the walk of shame he'd done away after apologising to the bartender who'd come out from behind the bar finally after Alastor had gone berserk for the disturbance.
Despite his picture perfect expression that never really fully dulled in the same way others experienced - the perks to having a TV for a head - it was clear that he was still struggling by the way he slumped and his brow was furrowed, eyes squinted; open just a crack to try avoid the thudding stabs of pain through his head with the hangover he was nursing.
It was bullshit to him that even with a flatscreen for a face, he still could manage to get hungover.
The tile floor of his tower, which he had bought recently, clicked under the heels of his shoes, dim fluorescent lights painting everything in a sickly, lifeless glow. It only sought to make his mood even worse.
He grumbled to himself as he reached the door finally, dodging all the unpacked boxes as he went and forcing himself to smile before swinging the heavy door open to greet whoever was there.
Dreams of new business partners and an underlying, pitiful hope that it could even be Alastor coming to apologise or pretend like nothing happened yesterday like after their usual arguments were immediately squashed as he was revealed nothing behind it.
Just the barely inhabited entertainment district he had been working on for a little while now. On the other side of the street a line of TV's, each with a monochrome display playing an ad for a cereal he had gotten a sponsorship with blared monotonously behind their glass displays.
It was clear none of the few people staring blankly at the screens had rung the bell so he could hear the door all the way in his room.
Vox's smile dropped and he then blankly stared into the empty air, tired eyes squinting as he deeply exhaled. He'd kill whatever asshole had rung and run for messing with him on the cameras positioned everywhere later, maybe that would lift his spirits a little bit.
He shut the large glass doors, once again locking them. As he did so, a piece of paper fell to the ground; formerly suspended in the door jam and dislodged by its movement.
Vox watched it flutter to the obnoxiously white tiles of the floor with a raised brow. He could see it was torn, seemingly a face-down picture of some kind from the different colour peaking through from the back under the lights.
“What on...” Vox said, unamused as he leaned down to pick it up.
Another cold wave of sadness that he thought he had numbed out already after last night swept over him as realised it was the first photo that he and Alastor had ever taken together - ripped down the middle so that Alastor was clearly present, a bit of his own face visible in the corner.
Vox’s screen glitched into a line of broken pixels, blurring his quickly souring expression as he realised that Alastor had just been here to deliver half of the photo.
He had been here and left wordlessly. So it really was over. His clawed hands shook as he pressed one against the wall of the entrance hall to steady himself, squinting his eyes shut.
His head spun; a dizzying mixture of his hangover, the overbearing lights all around him, and the god awful feelings of self-hatred, tiredness, heartbreak, and worst of all betrayal all mixing together. The fact that this is how their years of friendship had ended was a crushing weight on his shoulders. It was ridiculous.
In that moment as he had finally decided to confess he swore that they would still stay together even if it wasn't as lovers. That even if Alastor rejected his feelings, they would still maintain their friendship.
He was wrong, of course.
Him keeping his silence had hurt before, but it rang far more now he was all alone.
Vox’s eyes cracked open again despite the way his headache protested, looking back to his other hand which still held the torn photo delicately to avoid any further damage to it.
His blue pupils passively drank in the image of Alastor's smiling face again.
It was all ridiculous.
A screeching sound rang out in the entry room, echoing in an unnerving way through the mostly empty building as his claws dug into the wall he was leaning against, raking deep nail marks into the plaster as just about the most potent wave of anger he thought he had probably felt ever swept itself over every other conflicting emotion inside of him.
He had given so much to that asshole. His time, his dreams, and worst of all his secrets.
All of these were treated like nothing in Alastor's hands.
He was treated like nothing.
Alastor even said it; Vox was nothing to him. Nothing but a past-time.
'Occasional entertainment'
Vox’s chest clenched with burning anger at the insult to how much he was worth as a demon. He was worth far more than most of the pathetic low-lives in this city. Heck, all of them.
He was too good for Alastor even, and yet that snobby hazbin radio announcer had the audacity to treat him in such a way?
Ah yes, the delusionally grandiose rug over his kicked-in ego. A bitter thought which tugged at the back of his mind but got inevitably drowned out by everything else.
The lights overhead hummed louder and louder with the passing seconds.
He let out a growl that petered off into a yell interrupted by glitches, air filled with crackling electricity coming off of him in waves the longer he dwelled upon the state of everything.
-
From down the street, Alastor let out a satisfied chuckle as he saw the lights within Vox's tower flickering aggressively.
The deed was done, and although some pathetic part of him weakly protested, it was crushed where it stood. He turned on his heel, arms folded behind his back while he strided in the opposite direction.
He made his bed and now he had to lie in it.
His eye twitched slightly as a stab of regret once again made itself known.
As cold as it was.
Damn did my ass get carried away writing this one haha
#radiosilence#onewaybroadcast#complicated and sad#voxal#radiostatic#one sided radiostatic#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel alastor headcanons#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel vox#vox#alastor#hazbin hotel vox headcanons#accidentally hit post on this one early but it should be fine hopefully
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Bimbo!reader going with steve and them to find eddie bc they somehow have known abt all of it going on but she's scared so shes clinging to steve. Steve's yandere lizard brain is having a fuckin field day but for eddies yandere lizard brain? Its part of the reason he went after him with the bottle
PLEASEEE omg!!
(>.<)
Steve's enjoying this, possibly a little too much.
Okay, definitely a little too much-- they're trying to find a suspected murderer for crying out loud.
BUT YES steve would love the fact that you're clinging to him, rubbing your face in his chest as you whimper about being scared, and 'what if eds isn't okay, stevie?"
of course, steve doesn't wanna hear eddie's name come out of your mouth (or any guy's name for that matter), but he lets it slide because he loves comforting you.
loves you touching him.
you're always clinging to him, making steve's heart beat rapidly pick up in pace as you hold his big hand in yours; sometimes fiddling with his watch.
he kisses the top of your head when dustin gets tense and yells at someone in the group, making you whine softly and hold onto steve tighter.
but, when you all make your way to Lover's Lake, finding a little boathouse, you go inside, a flashlight in yours, dustin's, and max's hands.
steve's getting shit from dustin because he's poking things with an oar, but you just cling tighter to his side.
steve would do anything to protect you.
however, eddie can see from under the tarp covering an old canoe.
his mind is haunted with images of chrissy dying, but when he sees you clinging on to Steve 'the hair' Harrington.. he loses his mind.
He no longer is thinking about chrissy, just about you.
you and that asshole, harrington.
his hand is wrapped tightly around the glass of a broken beer bottle as he shoots up from his position, scaring you as you squeal loudly, the others gasping and yelping along with you; your back is to one of the wooden pillars. you're shaking, and tears are brimming in your eyes as eddie slams steve against a wall, holding the glass to steve's throat, anger rushing through his veins.
dustin tries to talk eddie down, and then you try talking him down; your voice calming as you take the glass shard from his hand, eddie's nostrils slightly flaring as he breathes hard.
"eds?" you sniffle out, and he turns to you, letting steve out of his grasp and immediately scooping you in his arms.
you hug him back on your tippy-toes, his arms and hands feel so good on you,, you had missed him and was worried sick.
eddie kisses the top of your head, cupping your face and kissing all over it as you giggle softly, making steve contemplate holding eddie against a wall with a broken glass shard against his throat.
eddie can think only two things now.
god, he loves you and missed you,,
and:
nobody touches you.
no-fuckin'-body.
you're his.
in fact, if you hadn't talked him down, he probably would be a murderer.
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x bimbo!reader#yandere!eddie munson#yandere!eddie munson x reader#yandere!eddie munson x bimbo!reader#steve harrington#eddie munson#yandere!steve harrington x reader#yandere!steve harrington#yandere!steve harrington x bimbo!reader#mail 💌
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desperately need to see the fight between doting husband bruce wife n the parents abt dick- or god forbid if they disrespected alfred
I'm not really in a mental place to write the actual fight but. Here's this.
Bruce turned his glass, watching the firelight shimmer in the facets of the crystal and exhaled slowly. He should be in bed, asleep next to you. But he couldn't settle down.
He still heard the barbed words that had been hurled at you. Designed to hurt. They'd known EXACTLY where to stick the knife. Knew every chink you your armor. And they'd tried to exploit it.
To make you back down like you'd done so many times before. Anything to make it stop. To make the waterboarding end so you could take a full breath.
"Sir-"
"Alfred?"
"Is Miss Y/N alright?"
"Asleep finally," he said, gesturing for him to pour himself a drink.
"Thank god," the butler said, taking the invitation and a chair with a sigh.
"Hm."
"I wondered why she rolled over like she did," Alfred said. "I never realized-"
"Did everyone hear?"
"Most everyone," he sighed. "Voices carry in this house."
"And anyone who didn't hear it will be told about it, I'm sure. Damn it." Bruce had hoped that maybe, they'd all be occupied. Fussing with dinner clean up or the last chores before the end of the day. Hoping to protect your dignity a little.
"Unfortunately," Alfred sighed.
"I think we'll cancel tomorrow's dinner plans," he said. "And do something here."
"Very good, Sir," Alfred said nodding. "I'll see to arrangements in the morning."
Silence settled for a long moment, broken only by the crackling of the fire and a distant croaking of frogs in the early spring chill. "I keep trying to understand why- keep trying to picture my parents saying things like that and I just-"
"They love me as much as they can love anyone-" Your voice makes both of them jump and you flinch guiltily, ready to bolt. Too raw to realize no one was going to shout at you.
"Sweetheart," Bruce said getting to his feet. "You're going to get cold-" You didn't have a robe on. Or slippers. And it was a drafty house. How you weren't already freezing in your short shorts and tank top he'd never know. And over your protests, he pulled you into his lap, tucking your head up under his chin and holding you there. Chafing the chilled skin of your exposed arm and calf in his hand.
"Be that as it may, ma'am Alfred said, clearing his throat. Not prepared for his heart strings to be pulled that way. "You don't deserve to be spoken to like that."
"It used to be worse-"
"If I may be so bold- I do not believe that makes their behavior today any better." And when you don't answer, aside from sniffling and clinging to your husband- Alfred makes a mental note to make waffles in the morning. It wasn't much but- you did seem to enjoy them and you hadn't eaten dinner. He wouldn't have you facing tomorrow starving.
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Astro Observations
✨ this info can apply to rising, sun, moon, venus & mars ✨
Aries
💝 women with aries placements enjoy pursuing taken men due to their need of excitement & challenge.
Taurus
💝 taurus placements appreciate closure so they don’t usually end rxships by ghosting, there's always a goodbye.
💝 taurus placements seem to have a natural admiration & sympathy for scorpio placements. since taurus is so sensual, scorpio’s intensity intrigues them.
💝 taurus placements can be shallow, fixating on physical appearance, which could manifest as him having wondering eyes. taurus placements tend to indulge in their senses & comforts (overeating, overspending) which could manifest as him seeking affection elsewhere (cheating).
Cancer:
💝 they’re emotionally manipulative, deceptive & sneaky. they weaponise empathy & guilt to dodge blame.
Leo:
💝 they may prefer to have the lights on rather than off; they want to see their partner’s body & they want their partner to see their body. how else is their partner supposed to compliment them on how good they look naked? they also like s3x in mirrors or on camera.
Virgo
💝 they may feel ugly or uncomfortable wearing heavy & strong makeup bc they’re so accustomed to the natural & subtle look.
💝 probably worn glasses at some point in his life.
Libra
💝 they seek to be liked by others, even more than leo’s.
💝 they get along with the opposite sex well.
💝 they adore romantic attention so even if they feel zero attraction to you they’ll still flirt with you out of boredom or for fun. since they’re naturally charming, they easily make others feel special, despite it usually being completely in-genuine. not to mention, they’re probably saying the same thing to five other women. he will say the most heart warming things to you, leading you to believe he’s in love with you, just to leave you for the cutie next door. they’re known to be play deceptive games & lead people on.
💝 he’ll play both sides to his advantage, leaving behind a trail of shattered trust & broken bonds.
💝 avoids conflict, then explodes.
💝 charms their way out of accountability
Scorpio:
💝 scorpio placements are far more conflictive, aggressive & hostile than aries placements. scorpio placements love chaos wether they admit or not. they’re the type to deliberately throw in a petty comment that will start the most destructive war. one way or another they always end causing, attracting or engaging in drama. they may be mean to their partner, not in a serious & malicious way, in a teasing way.
💝 their mystique can translate to aloofness
Sagittarius:
💝 restlessness.
Capricorn:
💝 generally all capricorn placements are reliable.
Aquarius:
💝 rebels without a cause, just for effect
💝 treats people like experiments
💝 struggles with emotional intimacy & may seem distant or aloof.
Pisces:
💝 fantasises abt future without working on presense.
💝 plays the victim to avoid confrontation.
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Merry-Go-Round.
synopsis : aib characters as sweet sappy quotes
genre : fluff :(
warnings : none! i kinda cried doing this tho.
— AiB CHARACTERS x GN!READER
ANN —
“i would’ve come for you and if i couldn’t walk, id crawl to you and no matter how broken we were, we’d fight our way out together.”
“i offer you my life, but it is a short life i can offer you my heart, though i have no idea how many more beats it shall sustain.” (jem carstairs)
ARISU —
“i swear on the angel. The hell with that, I swear on us.” “why us?” “Because there isn’t anything i believe in more.” (jace herondale)
“the world was collapsing, and the only thing that really mattered to me was that you were still alive.” (percy jackson)
CHISHIYA —
“in our next lives i want our roles to be reversed me the one who fell in love first and you the loved one so i can give you all the love you have given me.” (choi soobin)
“that’s because you are cold-hearted.” “for everyone else maybe, but not for you.” (conard fisher)
KUINA —
“3 words, 8 letters, say it and i’m yours.”
“we are staying together. you’re not going away from me. never again.” (percy jackson)
MIRA —
“i’ll give you the world, the stars, whatever you want. i’m yours.” (aaron blackford)
“you’re not the villain in my story.” “i am” mira says. “but i’ll be the villain for you. not to you.” (plated prisoner)
TATTA —
“you are the first dream of my soul, and from that dream i hope will come all other dreams, a lifetime’s worth.” (will herondale)
“whatever our souls are made of, yours and mine are the same.” (hardin scott)
USAGI —
— this one is talking abt usagi. “to the world, she is formidable. to me? she is the world.” (aaron warner)
“if i had to live every eternity searching for you, i would. there isn’t a moment i would rest without you by my side. its you and i until the end.” (these stained glass hearts)
tags — open !
@nanamora , @parkersmyth , @trinmadol , @noxceleste , @eissaaaa , @dr3amscap3 , @arizzu , @bwnniidump , @kerenz , @minyoungieee , @saiewithakatana
#SCENARIOS . . . ‹3#IMAGINES 💌 ୧ ˚₊#- surshica ♥︎#alice in boderland x reader#chishiya x reader#arisu x reader#usagi x reader#ann x reader#kuina x reader#mira x reader#tatta x reader
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post title pending. my weird swap au
this is the post im making for scratchswap, my au where i switch the post-scratch kids with the post-scratch trolls sharing their aspect (dirk-nepeta, roxy-equius, jake-eridan, and jane-feferi) and then the pre scratch dudes get swapped accordingly. yes this bc of the Parallels between feferi and jane and then i got a whole Thing out of it. im working on classpects/ages. characters under the cut
pre-scratch trolls
note for the record i did not think much about these guys
johune peixes: i have done 0 thinking on johune so sorry. theyre swapped w meenah and everyones really confused about how that funny little guy was a huge scary empress in every other universe
rozela zahhak: the sorcerer wooooo! pretty similar to canon rose shes just really fucking strong. good friends w aranea
dayves leijon: im still not 100% sure how to go about this one tbh but he does like romance in some form. also i got in in my head hes skittish. no idea where that came from. capitalizes b (glasses) and maybe something else?
jaidli ampora: oh i actually thought about this one a little! fashion is sorta fifties inspired like cronus but shes not a greaser thats his schtick. you dont steal a mans shtick. is there a c in that word or not
post scratch trolls
jaynce peixes: feels like i should work on that name huh. anyways jaynce does Not want to be the heiress (for reasons both transgender and not) at all and is in a little bit of denial about this. i lied actually a lot of denial. may or may not be moirails w jayque havent decided. replaces e and o with -E and -O forks and spoons!
roxxie zahhak: a little more into robots n shit than coding but still does that. bit of a jack of all trades! thinks deyirks lusus (its. kity) is the most special boy in the whole wide world. probably moirails w deyirk now that i think abt it but maybe not. im on the fence abt a lot of stuff here. uses some kind of prefix, emoticons have X for eyes, replaces x sounds with x, y (as a vowel) with ie, and s w z
deyirk leijon: WORLDS MOST NORMAL MAN (lying) lives in a cave in the middle of the woods not for catgirl reasons but because this guy is going insane in solitude works best when isolated. also uses some kind of prefix for a quirk. roxxie drops off robot parts at his house every few weeks and they make a day of it theyre Pals
jayque ampora: he helps feed gloybsub or whatever her name is and hes so normal about the deaths on his conscience. really hes so normal guys cmon. normal
pre scratch kids
mimi egbert: token cis friend sorry meenah. or not idc. more mellow because dad egbert is just a normal guy and isnt raising her to be the literal queen of the world. still meenah tho
hans lalonde: i am unsure about the name but i think its fine. the ultimate horse girl (therian). keeps maplehoof in the foyer. if he had to interact with his dad for more than 20 seconds they would both implode from the sheer awkwardness. the house is big as shit they just gesture to each other when they see each other and thats fine for both of them
manu strider: wears heart shades everywhere as a sort of joke. he doesnt actually know. caps lock is broken and refuses to fix it + uses kaomoji a lot. fujoshi to transmasc pipeline haha who said that
crow harley: im stilling working on which animal to furrify cronus with. watches a bunch of old movies and picked up those speaking habits. other shit pending
post scratch kids
fifi crocker: she wants to be crockercorps new ceo sosososo bad she would make up for all of their horrible crimes against humanity by uh. shes working on it ok?
neta strider: the she/her to she/they to they/them to he/they to he/him to he/they to she/he/they to The Creature pipeline. percentage of their diet that is fish he caught w her own bare hands has been steadily increasing. is trying to buff up on history but keeps on going down wikipedia rabbit holes and rereading the nyan cat article for the thousandth time. would still do the detective pony rewrite but would get sidetracked by the lolcat metaphor for way longer
eqis lalonde: do you know how hard it is to smush equius down to four letters? i just made this name up man. anyways i dunno what to do with her but shes a girl of the horse variety
dani english: diversity win this sickly victorian orphan child is genderfluid! fucking terrified of the lusi on the island. fancies herself sort of a romantic poet
the entirety of this was brainstormed while i was bored in class for the record. still brainstorming so im gonna edit this when more shit arises
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Acftl theory time
ok so I have this theory that a curse for true love is going to be so beauty and the beast coded, here’s why:
This is the uk for acftl and right in the bottom corner there is a heart in a glass cass which heavily resembles the heart from beauty and the beast, but the fact that it is a heart not a rose makes me think that this is ment to resemble jacks being heartbroken from tella, and as we know in Beauty and the beast -I will be shortening this to batb- as time goes on the rose falls apart and if the beast doesn’t find his true love by the time the rose falls apart he is cursed to stay a beast forever, a bit like jacks was cursed to be a fate, we also know that belle saved the beast just before the last petal fell, and jacks has lost all hope to find his true love now as he thought it was tella but she ended up stabbing him so Mabey the heart in place of the rose is ment to represent jacks’s broken heart but Evangeline will save him at the end ????!!!
tell me if you want a part two to this because I have so much more to say abt this x
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OOC | Amira & Cassandra
ok so cassandra is the stepchild amira is most likely to forget abt bc she is least likely to inherit, and ngl that is probs in cassandra's favor bc it also makes her the stepchild least likely to be poisoned asp alksjdflkjsdfjdf amira: 'ig edmund can keep this sibling...as a treat' alksdjfkldsfdsf no but it does ~also make her the one amira is most likely to ignore like catch amira going 'her??' a la michael bluth and abandoning her in a foreign country after edmund explicitly asked her to get to know cassandra, bc amira literally forgot she existed aklsjdfkjlsdf ;D
no but i feel like these two have literally opposite energies and frankly them tryna interact is probs objectively hilarious but anyway aklsjdfkljsdf i don't think amira cares much for cassandra bc she sees her rose-colored glasses as extremely vapid and irritating bc the only thing you'll hear amira say abt love is 'love is a lie men tell to steal your virtue' and 'love is weakness. cut love from your heart and perhaps you'll live long enough to have it broken' ljksdlfjksdjkf amira also legit despises marian and ngl that is DEFFFFF coloring her impressions of poor cassandra bc she's like 'marian WOULD raise such a child. she'll die when winter comes, and then perhaps marian will finally learn that roderick doesn't and never will care'
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(un)apologetic
thinking abt how mean bo can be sometimes . im not talkin light shit . this wasn’t supposed to be a fic and it wasn’t supposed to end like this lol deeply inspired by @ventiswampwater’s fic squall ( go read it rn )
warnings; abuse , mentions of past abuse , broken bones, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, mommy kink , bo is a piece of shit in this , mentions of rough oral (m receiving) , sub!bo tho :3 , weird dynamic , stockholm syndrome , kinda ooc bo idk , bro suckin on nipples and is weird abt it fr , oral (f receiving) bo cries . i hate this this was a mistake lol my bad yall
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he’s not at all the perfect boyfriend . he won’t let you even call him that, but you’ve been in ambrose for two years now , the better half spent with his hand wrapped around your throat, telling you the awfullest things . most times you’ll wake up half way through the day , his cock buried so deep in your throat you’re sure he’s touching whatever’s left of your heart . it belonged to him anyways . other times you’d wake up kneeling in broken glass , bo screaming at you over this little mistake , and the feeling of his hand coming down harshly across your cheek you’re sure you’ve got whiplash now . stupid , you’ve already made a mess and now you’ve gone and gotten hurt doing so . or you’d wake up in the shop , watching bo work underneath a car as he mumbled about tools he needed you to grab for him . you remember when he broke your foot with a wrench once , the metal making short work of cracking your ankle . vincent was the one to wrap it up , and bo never helped you walk after that . you hobbled around everywhere until the pain subsided enough to walk at least a little normally . if you were good , he’d let you lean on him , maybe he’d even carry you back to the house . you always tried your best to appease him , but he’s unpredictable and you can never guess his moods or how he feels about you one minute versus the next .
this is no different . this isn’t something you could ever predict . you didn’t follow him down to the station today . he didn’t want you to . said you were getting on his nerves too much recently , said he couldn’t stand the sight of you . you slept on the couch last night , for the few hours that weren’t filled by your silent sobs . he came home and you almost didn’t recognize him as the cruel man you previously knew , but either way you greeted him with a smile . how was his day ? you asked , making movements to take off his shoes .
“long day, mama,” he muttered. it was so soft you could’ve sworn the sentence ended in a whine . “yeah? tell me about it?” after removing your captors shoes, you stood to full height , ushering him to the couch you had made your bed on . “been thinkin’ too much,” a whisper, “been pushin’ you away an’ i don’ know why.” poor baby , too in his head . who was really the unfortunate one here ? you wouldn’t dare voice this , he’d kill you without a second thought . he never liked being weak .
“lemme make it up t’ya, mama. lemme be good for ya,” his eyes , when they found their way to yours , were broken . he pawed at your chest , silently begging for your permission . you’ve only had the pleasure of seeing him like this twice before . you know what to do by now .
“go on, baby,” you whisper , voice shuddering as he starts to pull up your shirt . somewhere beneath your clothes , bo’s searching for forgiveness.
his mouth wraps around your nipple , sucking and nipping gently . he doesn’t ignore the other , pinching and tugging at it . comfort . he finds comfort in this . why tell you how he feels when he can show it , as long as you never bring this up again .
your hand finds it’s way into his hair, tugging on curls softly as your breath hitches with each tug of his teeth . “you’re so good to me, baby,” you murmur . he’s searching for penance in your warmth , needing to right all the wrongs within your arms . “i have to admit,” your voice is shaky, worrying your words will cause an unwanted shift, “what you said last night has been on my mind today, baby.” a whine .
baby blues open, looking up at you with the most guilt you’ve ever seen bo have . your nipple falls from his mouth , an apology spilling from his lips , “i didn’t mean it, mama, i promise.” it’s sweet , too sweet , and you’re sure the taste of it is rotting his teeth .
silence falls over the both of you , and you wonder who will break first .
you pull him up , your lips meeting his in a passionate kiss . unlike every other time , there’s no malice , no teeth , and maybe if you tasted him hard enough , there was love there . his love tastes like copper , the kind that spills from the fresh wounds he leaves on your skin , reminding you who you belong to . it tastes like gasoline , and a match .
bo is the first to pull back , desperate eyes meeting yours . “lemme make you feel good, mama.” a hand drifts between your thighs , cupping at your sex . “please?” it’s soft and if you weren’t waiting for it , you could’ve missed it .
“yeah - yeah, please, bo.” his body moves down , leaving kisses in his wake as he makes his way between your legs . bo’s tugging down your shorts , exposing your needy , wet core . you didn’t wear underwear anymore , bo’s ripped and torn them all to shreds . that was months ago , and by the way he looks at you , he must’ve forgotten .
“you’re a whore, mama, ain’t that right?” a smirk , and you wonder if this moment would end with a hand around your throat and his dick stuffed deep inside you . you hope it doesn’t . you like this softer side of him . he hasn’t hit you , yet .and if you’re lucky , he won’t .
“yes-“ you gasp as he laps at your cunt , licking up the juices . “you did this,” you mumble, “you gotta fix it. don’t you wanna fix it?” he’s silent , and whether that be from his mouth making you see stars , or from some response dying in his throat , you weren’t sure . but with the way he sucks at your clit , you didn’t much care .
you liked this . you liked this control . in this moment , he was yours in every sense of the word . you wondered if you’d met under other circumstances if it would’ve ended like this , him between your thighs , going down on you with so much fervor you thought he was starving man .
you felt a wetness , and for a moment you thought you must’ve cum without thinking until you realized it was tears . bo was crying , continuing to eat you out like his life depended on it . he mumbled words you soon found out to be “m’sorry mama, please forgive me”.
it made your heart twist in a way that made you nauseous , and you regretted making this about control in that fucked up head of yours . he‘s broken , just as much as you are .
“it’s - fuck - it’s ok, baby,” your high was coming in fast , unable to stop the buck of your hips when he pushes two fingers into you , immediately curling and finding that spot he knows so well .
“ i forgive you “
a hushed cry , and you come undone on his tongue and fingers , pulling at his hair . and for a moment , you forgot who this was for .
“thank you,” bo mumbles , laying his head against your thigh .
it’s soft , so soft you’re sure you’re imagining it , but you swear you hear him utter those three words you’ve been dying to hear ;
“i love you.”
#this sucks sorry#zsaszs writing#ig ?#bo sinclair#bo sinclair x reader#house of wax#house of wax 2005
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I think I wanna share this hc abt Hal
If you pay close attention to my art you might have already noticed it but Hal has glowing pupils which are a side effect of him being exposed to the Green Lantern ring for an extended period. ( All the other human Green Lanterns also experience similar side effects with their eyes )
And honestly? It's a little terrifying sometimes.
Imagine Hal and Barry sleeping together in the same bed and in the middle of the night and Hal gets up for like a glass of water or something. Barry stirrs awake as well because he's a light sleeper, sits up and all he sees is just a pair of green dots staring at him in complete darkness.
Barry almost had a fucking heart attack in that moment because he thought that a monster or alien had just broken into his home but no, it's just Hal.
Hal uses his ring to shine a light at Barry because he did hear a startled noise and wanted to make sure that his boyfriend is okay and poor Barry looked like he had just seen a ghost; his face was completely pale.
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