#but at the same time if I live in an apartment or condo then I don't have to do my own yardwork or maintenance

[junkissed]

bad neighbor

member — neighbor!dino x f reader genre — smut, college au word count— 6.3k synopsis — pros of living next door to a frat house: your neighbor is really really hot. cons of living next door to a frat house: probably everything else. smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, fingering, lots of making out, facial (cum on face), semi public sex (hooking up at a party) content warnings — slightly introverted!reader, chan is in college but reader isn't: can be interpreted as older!reader but that's up to you tbh, mentions of weed & alcohol (chan & reader are both sober), cameos from cheol & hoshi hehe notes — thanks again to @onlymingyus for helping me get my brain in order <3 please reblog or send an ask if you enjoyed reading!! it means a lot to me and it helps me continue writing :) i hope you like this fic!

it's still early in the evening when the music starts.

the sound of voices and cars honking outside your house draws your attention away from the latest episode of your favorite new show. you get up and walk over to the window, peeking out through the curtain at the bright headlights beaming at you.

with a sigh you push the curtain closed again, heading into the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea. if tonight is like any of the other nights, then it'll be a long time before you fall asleep. hopefully the chamomile will help—is what you tell yourself every time. and every time, it doesn't help.

living in the same neighborhood as the frat houses from the nearby state university was certainly a choice, but the rent in the area was the cheapest in town and you didn't have many options left. with the fall semester coming up fast, every other apartment complex and condo in the city was already rented out. after moving in, you'd quickly discovered why the rent was so cheap: not because the house was in bad condition or because the location was inconvenient, but because of the parties. nearly every fucking night.

you might actually be impressed at how these college kids find the energy to party so often, if you weren’t so fed up with them. every friday and saturday night, and even sometimes during the week, at least one house on your block was throwing some kind of wild party.

by now you'd seen it all: drunk girls throwing up on your lawn, shirtless guys doing keg stands in the middle of the cul-de-sac, people making out literally everywhere. and yes, including that one time on halloween when you found two playboy bunnies having sex with spider-man in your backyard. how they got back there was anybody's guess, but from then on you’d started double and triple checking that your back gate was locked every night. 

tonight, it seemed that the festivities were being hosted at the house across the street. and the man behind it all? none other than lee chan, president of the fraternity and owner of the house.

you'd only officially met him twice, once on the day you'd moved in and once the day after. his red honda had pulled into his driveway at the same time you were unloading your boxes from the u-haul, and he'd jumped out and offered to help carry your furniture inside.

at the time it had felt like this was finally your meet-cute moment, the friendly and unfairly attractive boy-next-door that sweeps you off your feet with love at first sight. but once the final box had been moved, he'd simply given you a smile and a wave and went back inside his house. no cute bonding, no exchanging phone numbers, no asking to see each other again. he just left.

of course, that had been before you found out about the parties, and the shock you were in for that same night when people had started showing up in droves had nearly led you to call the cops. so the next morning you'd put on a nice outfit and went to knock on his door, and it was then that you found out more about the neighborhood you'd found yourself living in.

with the same polite tone he'd used yesterday, he'd been friendly and apologetic for the noise, promising that he'd make sure everyone stayed on his side of the lawn and that no one disturbed you or your house. he'd explained that it wasn't a quiet neighborhood, no matter the time of year, but repeated that if anything happened he would take full responsibility for it. he said that you were welcome to come over any time, whether you needed something or you just wanted in on the fun.

you'd taken his word for it, sheepishly waving goodbye as you crossed the sidewalk between your houses, though you figured you would probably never set foot inside his house while there was a party going on. and as you’d walked away, you had tried to ignore the feeling of your heart fluttering with the beginnings of a crush on your neighbor.

tonight, however, your heart was doing anything but fluttering. music blasted outside, definitely a lot louder than usual, and the sound of car engines revving was already getting on your nerves.

you dunk your tea bag into the boiling water at the same time a loud banging on your door makes you jump, and you narrowly avoid spilling it all over yourself and the counter.

quietly you rush over to the door, looking out the peephole to see a group of people carrying cases of beer, looking around at your front porch.

before you can figure out how to react, you hear someone yell something distantly and the group turns around in the direction of the sound.

"shit, wrong house," one of the guys says loudly. "sorry, whoever lives here! have a good night!" he calls as they walk away, the others laughing over a joke you can't hear. 

with the crisis averted, you head back into the kitchen and pull the tea bag out of your mug, chucking it into the trash with a huff. full responsibility, your ass. 

and then… you have an idea. 

chan had been so insistent that you could come over if you ever needed anything, so you might as well take advantage of his offer. because tonight you did, in fact, need something. you needed the party to not be so goddamn loud that you can literally feel your living room floor vibrating beneath your feet.

you stick your mug in the microwave to reheat later and quickly change out of your pajamas and into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. presentable enough that you don’t embarrass yourself, yet comfortable enough that you don’t feel so awkward.

with a deep breath, you pull open your front door, keys tightly in hand as you lock it behind you and start making your way across the street.

you're almost at chan’s front door when a man steps in front of you out of nowhere, stopping you short. "hey, here for the party?" he asks, holding up his hand for a high-five.

"um… kinda," you say, lightly tapping his hand. you figure he must be the bouncer of some sort, from his friendly yet confident no-nonsense attitude and the way his thick biceps strain against the sleeves of his t-shirt. "i'm looking for lee chan, he owns the house?"

"gotcha," he nods. "gotta check your age before i let you in, though."

you pause, his words sinking in as you realize why he's asking. "oh, sorry, i didn't think i'd need my id," you apologize. "but i live next door, my driver's license is just in my wallet, i can go grab—"

"are you over 21?" he interrupts, and you frown at the question.

"uh, yes?"

"cool. head on in, then," he says.

you look at him suspiciously. "you're sure you don't need to see my id? what if i was lying?"

"dino will probably be downstairs, his room is the door at the end of the hallway on the left," he says, pointedly ignoring your questions. "and while you're down there, tell him cheol sent you. ask him to grab another beer for me."

he waves towards the open front door, and hesitantly you make your way inside. you have no idea who the hell dino is, and you can only hope it's just a nickname of some kind and the man you're about to go find isn't some stranger.

the second you set foot inside the doorway, it's like entering a completely different world. the air is stale and humid, clinging to your skin as you push through a crowd of what must be hundreds of people packed like sardines into every corner of the room.

the music gets louder the further inside the house you go, and you have to focus on repeating cheol's instructions in your head so you don’t get lost in the maze of hallways and doors. downstairs, end of the hallway, left. 

you soon find out where the music is coming from. unlike the normal house lights on the first floor, downstairs everything is dark except for colorful flashing led lights around the room. a man stands on top of a table between two huge speakers as people crowd around him, jumping and shouting lyrics to the song that’s playing.

there’s so many people that you have to push your way through the crowd, but most of the people around you either don’t notice or are too drunk to care. but finally, you make it to what looks like the hallway that the man outside—what was his name, cheol?—told you about.

you open the first door on your left and find four people sat quietly on the floor passing around a bong, a thick cloud of smoke hanging over the room. all four of them look over at you at the same time, glazed eyes silently asking who the hell are you?.

"sorry, wrong room," you squeak, slamming the door and retreating back into the hallway as you try your best not to step on anyone's feet.

with a deep breath you crack open the door directly beside the one you'd just opened and poke your head inside, and relief washes over you when you see chan inside.

he's sitting on a couch with a couple girls sitting next to him and a guy slumped against his shoulder, eyes closed and brows furrowed.

he looks up when the door opens, and a look of shock spreads over his face when he recognizes you. he calls your name and you step inside tentatively, saying his name in response. "chan?"

"close the door behind you," he says, and you jump to turn around and shut it with a click. he must notice you standing like a deer in headlights, because he motions you closer to him with a friendly smile. "sorry," he explains. "people will think it's an open room if you leave the door open. i don't want anybody in here without a reason to be."

you nod, but your eyes dart over at the girls sitting beside chan. he makes eye contact with them and clears his throat, and without a word they stand up, understanding the message.

he helps the man laying against him sit up, then helps him stand up and hands him off to the others. "don't let hoshi drink anything else tonight except water, okay? keep an eye on him until your driver shows up."

they nod and slip their arms around their friend, helping him stumble out of the room as he grumbles about something incoherent. "thanks, dino," one of them says with a little wave. "see you monday for that bio test."

the girls open and shut the door quickly, suddenly leaving you alone with him in the room.

"hi," you start, not knowing what else to say. it's been such an ordeal just trying to find him that you've almost forgotten why you came searching for him in the first place.

"hi," he repeats with a laugh. "honestly, i never thought i'd see you here. you don't seem like the type. so, what brings you over tonight?"

"you've only met me twice, how would you know what i seem like?" you reply defensively, thought he's spot on. this is not your usual scene at all, and you’re sure that anyone at this party who’s even a smidge sober must be able to tell how out of place you look.

he shrugs, patting the couch seat next to him. "alright, fair point. come sit down."

you carefully take a seat, purposefully avoiding eye contact with the collection of ambiguous stains on the couch cushions.

"oh, before i forget. somebody named cheol told me to tell you he wants a beer?" you say awkwardly, relaying the message.

"bastard," chan mutters, but he's smiling, and you assume the guy you met earlier is a friend of his. "fine, i'll grab him something when i go back outside." pausing, he turns his attention back to you. "but really, why are you here? i don't wanna make any assumptions, but i doubt it's for the free alcohol."

"if i was, you'd have to tell me where to find it," you say with a shrug, and he laughs but stays quiet for you to finish.

you fold your hands together nervously. "anyway, i just came over to ask—could you maybe turn the music down, like, just a tiny bit? and also… can you tell people to stop having sex in my yard?"

he winces and gives an apologetic smile. "yeah, of course. sorry about that. i told vernon to keep it down, but you know how he gets when he's…" he stops as if he’s just realized something. "nevermind. i'll go let him know right now. do you wanna come with, or you wanna stay here?"

"no offense, but i'd rather not go back out there," you laugh awkwardly. “it was bad enough just trying to find you in the first place.”

"all good," he replies with that friendly smile of his. "it's not for everyone, that's for sure. just make sure the door stays closed, and you'll be fine in here by yourself. shouldn't take too long."

he opens the door and slips out, slamming it closed behind him. you sit unmoving on the couch, finally glancing at your surroundings.

unlike the first room, the air here is fairly clean, other than the faint smell of alcohol and weed wafting in from under the door. you realize this must be chan's actual bedroom, when you see the posters that cover the walls and the bookshelf full of knick-knacks and textbooks.

you start to wonder who else lives in this house, but soon the door opens again and chan returns, the sound of voices and music flooding in while the door is open but quickly falling quieter once the door is shut again.

"alright, he'll keep it down. i'm sorry about the noise," he apologizes again, but you wave him off, suddenly feeling shy around him. with him still standing and you still sitting, he towers over you in a way that makes the butterflies in your stomach flutter back to life.

"no, it's fine. really, it's not that big of a deal," you rush, trying to ignore the growing feeling in your chest. was he always this hot? for the first time tonight you notice how his blonde hair falls in waves around his face, perfectly framing his soft features.

he shakes his head. "really, i mean it. vernon will make sure it doesn't get out of hand, he’s good at that. i can't exactly give you a quiet evening, but i can give you the best i've got."

you take a deep breath and stand up. you're already way outside of your comfort zone even just coming to this party, but maybe this experience hasn't been all that bad. after all, you got to see chan again, and you got to exchange more than a handful of words with him like you did all the other times you’d met him.

"well… what is the best you've got?" you ask him, and you almost see him raise an eyebrow.

he puts his hands in his back pockets, pausing for a second as he looks at you. "mm, best i've got? probably this room. my room. quietest in the house, and nobody will come in to bother us."

your heart races as you take a small step towards him, standing close to him but still keeping some distance between you.

"so does this mean you're not leaving?" he asks when you don’t say anything, just barely loud enough for you to hear him.

"do you want me to stay?"

he takes a step closer to you. "only if you stay with me."

"do you say that to all the people you bring in here?" your question is joking, but a part of you still worries that he thinks you're just another girl at the party looking for a one night stand. though honestly, you wouldn't even really mind if that's all this was. hell, maybe all the secondhand smoke is getting to your head and clouding your judgement, because hooking up with your neighbor seems like a pretty fantastic idea right now.

"the only time i let people in my room is to let them use my bathroom and to make sure they don't die of alcohol poisoning," he says in a low tone, a little laugh escaping him. "and now, i guess i let my hot neighbor in here, too."

"you think i'm hot?" you ask, taking another small step forward.

he matches your stride, taking one last step towards you so that you're finally standing toe to toe with him. "i'd be an idiot not to."

"but how would you know, if we've only met twice?"

he laughs. "well, you had just moved in. i wasn't gonna hit on you when you hadn't even finished unpacking your furniture yet."

"so you did want to hit on me, then," you say confidently, straightening up a little.

“did i ever say i didn't?” he rests his hands on your hips and gently pulls you towards him, closing the last of the distance between you. his eyes never leave your face, gauging your reaction and looking for any hesitation.

you wrap your arms around him and lean forward, a smile on your lips. "good to know."

he leans in the rest of the way and presses his mouth against yours, and everything else just falls into place. your hands reach up to find his hair, threading your fingers through his blond waves and tugging experimentally, and when he lets out a little noise of pleasure you kiss him harder.

the noise of the party fades into the background as his hands slide down your body to grip your ass, and you can’t help the little moan that escapes as he starts to back you up against the wall. his hands stay put, kneading your ass as you try to keep your legs from giving out already. it’s painfully obvious how bad you want him, but it’s equally obvious how he feels the same way.

“fuck, been dreaming about this since the day you moved in,” chan says, pulling away from you with a shaky breath as your fingers tug at the hem of his t-shirt. 

he pulls it off over his head before leaning over to kiss you again, his tongue tracing over your lips. he’s good at this; not like you’re surprised by it or anything, but it still catches you off guard.

he seems to be able to sense the tiny bit of lingering hesitancy, so he breaks apart from you but still keeps his arms firmly around you, loosening his grip just a little. “is this okay?” he asks in a low voice, but you can hear the concern laced in it.

you nod quickly, tugging your shirt off quickly and letting his hands settle at your hips before you pull him back closer. you never do this. maybe you really had inhaled too much secondhand smoke on the way in and you aren’t thinking straight. but deep down, you know that’s not the case. 

as much as you hate to admit it, your harmless crush on your neighbor has grown into something much, much more. you can’t say you’ve never been a little jealous when you see girls leaving his house on sunday mornings after parties. you can’t say you’ve never let your eyes linger a few seconds too long when he goes out to check the mail and he’s wearing that tight black tank and thin silver chain he never takes off.

or the fact that he works out in his garage with the door open, and you aren’t really purposefully trying to look but it’s not your fault that your window just happened to be open. and it wasn’t your fault that you just happened to look outside and see him shirtless and bench lifting a very large amount and if you were really really quiet you could almost hear him groaning—

he slides his hands down your bare skin, hesitating again at the waistband of your jeans, but you arch your back a little to push yourself closer and he takes the hint. he easily undoes the button with one hand, and you try not to think about how many times he must’ve practiced that in order to get that skilled at it. but that thought is quickly pushed out of your mind when his hand makes its way into your pants, his fingers experimentally sliding down past your underwear and brushing through your folds.

you let out a groan, rolling your hips into his hand encouragingly. you’re already hot and sweaty, standing with your back against the door in just your bra and jeans, but it’s hard to tell if the heat is from the crowded, stuffy house or from something else.

“god, you’re so wet,” he murmurs under his breath almost incredulously as he presses his fingertip against your clit, circling the swollen bud before dipping back down to collect your arousal on his fingers.

you squeeze your thighs together out of instinct, trapping his hand between your legs, and he looks up at you for confirmation. “more,” you whimper, just loud enough to be heard over the music and the noise on the other side of the door. “chan, please.”

he groans and puts more pressure on your clit, starting to rub a little faster and a little messier. he slides his middle and index fingers inside and you let out an involuntary yelp, clenching and bucking your hips in search of more friction. he starts out slow, curling his fingers in a beckoning motion as his other hand massages the bare skin of your waist.

after more of your pleading he finally concedes, sliding his fingers out and wiping them on his stomach, leaving a glistening trail of wetness on his tan skin. he glances back up at you in questioning, but he finds no hesitation in your expression as his hands start to push your pants down your legs and you kick them away, leaving you bare in front of him.

“you sure you're ready?” he pauses to ask one more time, but your quick nod has him jumping back into action in seconds.

he follows hurriedly, stripping out of his pants and shoving his boxers down to free his cock. his length springs up and slaps against his stomach, the tip looking flushed and heavy, and your mind goes blank, replaced only with the thought of him inside you. he holds himself in one hand, lining his cock up at your entrance as you adjust your position in preparation.

you groan as he finally ushes into you, your fingernails digging into the back of his shoulder blades as you struggle to balance.

“feels good?” he mumbles as he lifts your thigh, wrapping your leg securely around his hip. he doesn't move yet, his hips still as he lets you move however you need.

you barely manage to nod in return, keeping your hands firmly planted on his shoulders, slowly but surely adjusting to his size. “god, yes,” you manage, trying to keep your breathing steady. “if i'd have known you felt this good i would've come over way sooner.”

“mm, well. you're welcome over here any time.” he grins at you. his dark eyes get hazier with desire as he holds you firmly against his pelvis. “for any reason you'd like.”

the best response you can come up with is “sure”, barely listening as you start to roll your hips, but you can tell the sincerity in his statement. your attempt at movement doesn't work very well in this position, but chan quickly takes the hint, pulling back and letting his cock slip halfway out before he drives back into you.

the first thrust has you seeing stars already, and you let out a broken moan as he starts to build up his pace. your back slides against the wall as you feel the bass reverberating through your bones, and it only enhances the feeling of his cock dragging against your walls.

“if there weren’t so many people in this house, i’d have you screaming my name right now,” chan huffs against your lips, pulling your body closer and wrapping his arms around you tighter.

“mm, but the music is so loud they probably wouldn’t be able to hear it anyway,” you bite back with a brazen smile. you're feeling bold, the party atmosphere filling you with a cockiness that you don't usually possess. but something about the environment, the fact that you're fucking the hottest person here while hundreds of people rave obliviously outside the door, is a thrill you've never felt before.

he rolls his head back with a groan, and you feel his thrusts suddenly getting harder and deeper. you have to fight to stay standing, using all your energy to keep yourself upright and leaning most of your weight on him, but if he notices it he doesn't let it show. all those push-ups and bench presses that you ogle him doing in his garage must be good for something, from the way he hoists you against the wall and drives his cock into you without even barely breaking a sweat.

“say it, then,” he goads, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thigh as he holds your leg up. “you want to, don't you? you wouldn't have come over here tonight if you didn't.”

the worst part is that you know he's right. your own curiosity is what brought you here tonight, masked by the claims of noise complaints. the noise isn't even really that much of a bother: you could've gone to bed, turned on your fan and played some white noise, and you would've been perfectly fine. but some part of you longs to know what goes on at these parties, to see your devastatingly sexy neighbor in this setting you've never witnessed him in yet. so now that your curiosity has been satisfied, you really have nothing to lose.

“chan! fuck— mmph, yes—” you whine loudly, unintentionally clenching around him as the words fall from your lips. there's no way anyone would hear over the music, and even if they did, there's a high chance they wouldn't care either way. it's just what happens at parties.

his eyes light up at the sound, a moan of his own leaving his mouth as he thrusts into you over and over again, burying his cock as deep as he can go with every stroke. a familiar heat burns in the pit of your stomach at his movements, winding tighter and tighter with each passing second. your walls throb around his length, filling every inch of you until you can't take it anymore.

“chan…” you groan again, pulling him towards you with your leg around his waist. “please, keep going… c-close, i'm close—”

he leans in and presses his lips to yours, swallowing your moans with his eager mouth. “god, please cum for me,” he says breathlessly, pulling away but leaving just enough room for your lips to stay connected by a thin string of spit. “need to feel it, need to feel you. please, baby, fuck…”

he slams into you even harder, driving his cock right up into the spot that makes your knees nearly buckle. you manage to whimper out his name one last time before your lips go slack against his mouth, your eyes squeezing shut as you crash into your climax. the force of his steady, constant thrusts combined with the force of your orgasm leaves your body tingling, every nerve alight from the waves of pleasure pulsing through you.

his movements don't ever slow, but you can see the emotion twisting in his face in reaction as he watches you cum, squeezing around him so warm and wet and perfect that it takes every ounce of his self control not to immediately follow you over the edge.

his eyes bore into yours, watching your face until he's sure you've recovered enough to handle him. he pulls out and keeps his hand firmly wrapped around the base of his cock, jerking himself with tiny flicks of his wrist to keep the momentum going.

immediately you drop to your knees in front of him, tilting your head back to stare up at him between his thighs, your eyes wordlessly pleading with him as your tongue nearly rolls out of your mouth.

“fuck, you're so…,” he groans, keeping his fist tight around his cock with a few final motions. “you're so fucking hot, god, i'm gonna—”

he whines and his hips buck as he spills across your face, thick white ropes landing on your tongue and your cheeks. your smaller hand reaches up to replace his and you take him into your mouth, gagging only slightly as the salty taste fills your mouth. you wrap your lips around him and swallow, letting your tongue swirl around his sensitive head to collect it all until he's finished.

he pulls back and his cock slips from your mouth, leaving you gasping and licking your lips to catch the stray drops of his cum. his voice is low and strained as he reaches out his hand to help you up, his thick biceps flexing as he pulls you to your feet. despite the blissed-out look on his face you can see the guilt in eyes and it makes you pause, wondering if he didn't enjoy it the same way you just did. but it's only another moment before he speaks again, and your short-lived worries are put to rest.

“i'm sorry it was so fast,” he says almost shyly, pulling you over to sit at the edge of his bed. “i can go again if you aren't done yet. or we can do something else… or i could walk you back home. whatever you want, i'm happy to do.”

you expression softens into a grin, still a little hazy but definitely not finished. “oh, i can go again, for sure. i've got all night if you'll let me.”

his eyes crinkle with an eager smile, and you're already spreading your legs to give him space as he falls down onto the bed between them, landing on top of you. his hand cups your chin ans he pulls you into him, his lips finding yours and melting into you with a satisfied hum. his tongue finds its place once again in your mouth, prodding inside as he kisses you with a level of passion and desperation you haven't felt in a long time. 

he groans into the kiss as he tastes himself on your lips, exploring your mouth and the bitter taste he left inside. you feel the vibrations from it in your jaw and down your neck, and it only makes you kiss him harder in an effort to draw out more of those pretty sounds.

"hey, dino, didn't you say you'd bring me a beer? it's so boring standing out there—"

the door opens and you jerk away with a scream, hiding yourself under chan and using the nearest piece of clothing to cover up as someone barges into the room.

"cheol, get the fuck out!" chan shouts, wrapping his arm around you and keeping you pressed tightly against his chest, using his back to shield you from view. "fucking knock next time, dude, you know better!"

"jeez! how should i have known? i thought you said you didn't hook up at parties," cheol mutters as he turns around, slamming the door shut behind him. "i'll get the damn beer myself."

the door slams shut once again, and chan sighs and hangs his head, his forehead leaning against your chest before he reluctantly crawls off of you and crosses the room to lock the door.

“you don’t hook up at parties, huh?”

he turns around to look at you, and you pause to take him in. his hair is messier than it was when you got here, glued to his forehead with sweat and sticking up at odd angles from you tugging on it. his broad chest is tinged red with tiny scratches from your nails, and it makes you want to bite him all over, but you contain yourself for now.

your voice is teasing, but cheol’s words have honestly made you feel a million times lighter. you hadn’t expected to be anything special to chan after tonight; at the very least, you hoped that it wouldn’t be awkward when you see each other, but you’d figured you were just the next in a long line of girls waiting to have their turn with him. for once, you’d never been so happy to be proven wrong.

“i’ll make an exception for the pretty neighbor girl. just this once.”

“oh, so now i'm just pretty. i thought i remembered you saying that i was the hot neighbor girl,” you giggle, watching as he hops on one leg to put his boxers back on.

“two things can be true at once,” he says with a grin as he walks back over to you still lying on his bed. “besides, i still haven't taken you out on a date yet. would be kinda forward of me to call you hot when i haven't even bought you dinner yet.”

you smile at him, trying to fight the warmth burning in your cheeks as you reach up to ruffle your fingers through his soft hair. he lets out a satisfied groan at the feeling, and it gives you an idea.

“do…” you trail off, suddenly unsure, until you see the warmth in chan’s eyes as he lays on top of you and it fills you with confidence again. “do you wanna continue this at my house? i’ve got the quietest room, and nobody will bother us.”

“mm.” he grins at the way you repeat his words from earlier, enamored with your shy yet playful tone. “if we’re at your place, does that mean i get to give you the noise complaint this time?”

“i’ll allow it.” you roll your eyes and pull yourself to sit up. “i need a shower, and i’m sure you would like one, too. plus i have food that hasn't been spilled on the floor or soaked in alcohol.”

he picks your shirt up off the floor and hands it to you with a smile, moving around his room with a quiet confidence you find unbearably hot. “does this mean anything to you, or is this just a tonight thing?” he asks.

you bite at your lip as you shimmy back into your jeans, shaky fingers sliding the button into place as you sit back down on the bed. “it does,” you reply simply. “you did tell me you'd buy me dinner, after all. i'm gonna hold you to that.”

he leans over you, pressing another chaste kiss to your lips. “and i plan on keeping that promise.”

you stumble your way through the house, squeezing chan’s hand tightly as he pulls you up the stairs, following him towards the door. you're not worried about anyone noticing you anymore: everyone's too wrapped up in their own business to care, including you. the party seems dulled now, the music fading and the people around you becoming blank faces. all you care about is chan, your eyes roving over his broad back muscles that peek through his shirt as you trail behind him. you must look no different than every other drunk college kid here with the giddy smile on your face, but you haven't had a drop of alcohol. it's just the effect he had on you.

finally you make it outside, and the cool night air feels sharp compared to the humidity inside the house. already it seems quieter as you start to walk the distance across the street, moving away from the party and towards the comfort of your own home. chan moves up beside you, wrapping his arm around your waist while you lead the way, but you're stopped once again by the same man from earlier.

“hey,” he greets chan, only sparing half a smirk in your direction but otherwise not bothering you, despite the heat that instantly rises in your cheeks at the fact that you were caught. “did you get my beer?”

“no. you said you were getting it yourself.” he rolls his eyes, and cheol whines and gives him a look that you swear almost looks like a pout. “if anyone asks about me, tell them i'm not home. tell them i had to…” he looks over at you with a cocky grin. “…had to go take care of something. noise complaint.”

cheol groans, making a face. “god, whatever. i don't want the details. but just don't make me stand outside next time. i'm doing you a favor here. i'm supposed to be working on my thesis.”

“sure,” chan replies, but he's still stuck staring at you, barely processing his friend's complaints. “yeah. anyway, i'll catch you tomorrow.”

he tugs gently on your waist and you start walking again, leaving cheol without so much as a goodbye or even a proper introduction. you'll deal with that later, you guess. there’s a lot of things you'll have to deal with, but at least the wild parties your neighbor boyfriend throws won't be one of them anymore.

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

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[smutoperator]

Breakfast at Jennie's

Kim Jennie x Male Reader

Tags: anal, carry fucking, celebrity, CFNM, creampie, cum drinking, edging, kitchen sex, morning sex, nymphomaniac, pantyless, "quickie", sexting, twerking

Word count: 4015.

Sex. This is always the first word Jennie thinks of when she wakes up every morning. A proud nymphomanic, Jennie keeps a full catalog of every single fuck she has ever had. There are many collectors out there, and Jennie is one of them. Her collection is made of cocks of multiple sizes, shapes, and colors that had the honor to penetrate her slutty holes.

At the luxury condo where she lives, Jennie keeps track of every elegible man to fuck her. From the bratty 18-year-old heir all the way up to septuagenarian retirees. Every time a new man moves in, she finds out and greets them with a special text message: a picture of either her pussy or ass with an invitation to come to her apartment for some morning sex. She gives them 15 minutes to answer before the picture is automatically deleted.

As a new resident of Jennie's condo, you were greeted with this invitation with a picture of her pussy before you could even finish setting your furniture up. But you thought it was just one of those porn spams that proliferate these days. The second day, you got another picture, this time of her asshole. Once again, you didn't answer. But you noticed that the house number was the same on both messages: 1601. You checked it, and indeed, there was a house with this number in the condo.

It took a few more days before Jennie sent another text of her intimate parts to you, but when she did, it was quite a naughty one, as she spread both her fuckholes for you to see the insides of her pink cunt and anus. "15 minutes, I'm waiting," she was very direct this time. You had just woken up, meaning you were just wearing your undershorts and hadn't even had your breakfast, and her villa was on the other side of the condo, but you still drove like a madman to meet her deadline, landing at the door of her house just in time.

You knocked at the door but heard no answer. Maybe the house was real, but it was just a prank. For a second, you thought of going back to your car before any guard could spot a man wearing just his undies on a cold day at the house of one of the most famous celebrities in Korea. However, as you put your hands on the handle, you found out the door was open all the time.

Jennie's house was very spacious. She was clearly way out of your league. You might be wealthy enough to live in UN Village, but her living room was the same size as your apartment. You walked around four rooms and three bathrooms and didn't find anybody, once again having second thoughts. It was only at your final guess, guided by the smells coming out of the kitchen, that you finally found a dark-haired woman wearing an oversized Calvin Klein shirt and drinking hot chocolate.

"You're late." Jennie reprimanded you. "For much less, I sent guys packing. My time is precious, especially at this new phase of my life," she said. Jennie was indeed very busy, learning the grits and grinds of running a record label all by herself after her recent departure from YG Entertainment. "But I'll make an exception for you; I see you just moved in and are also still patching things around in your new life," she said, looking at your underwear the whole time.

"I think we still have time for a quickie, but I won't take my clothes off," she said, setting the rules. "Sure, even if it's only 10 minutes, I'm fine with this. Your house, your rules," you replied to her.

Jennie didn't waste any time, as she was already behind schedule. Sensing your cock still wasn't ready, she grinded her ass against your clothed shaft. You could see her cheeks popping out, and she was wearing nothing under her shirt. You answered her moves, humping your fabric against Jennie's perfect pussy and sensing your cock get harder at each slow thrust of your pretending to passionately fuck her. You then reached under her shirts to grab her tits and followed it with a few spankings of her sexy ass, much to her enjoyment.

Jennie sensually licked your torso, then got on her knees and set her sights on the monster bulging under your underwear. You helped her and took your underwear off by yourself as your cock sprung out all the way into touching Jennie's nose. She looked extremely tiny from that spot, as her head didn't even reach over your hips. Jennie gave your tip a soft suck before jerking your cock as hard as she could, blowing your pipe off as her right hand ran all over your shaft while her left hand landed in your balls.

You wondered if Jennie just wanted to suck your cock for 5 minutes and let you go after you cum. She did that many times to guys who couldn't handle the power of her blowjob. It was all a test to see if you could take further leaps. Jennie put her nails in your crotch and started sucking your pole with no hands, leading to your first hard groan. That move has finished many guys over her 7-year career, and she has mastered it to a top-level degree. The way she throated a cock with ease had you on your knees, but you knew you couldn't literally blow this opportunity.

But her blowjob was tough to resist—ball touching, shaft stimulation, tip sucking—it seemed like she knew all the right spots. Indeed, you were just one of the countless cocks she has faced. As Jennie moved down to your balls, you looked at your tip, already fully red, wondering how you hadn't dropped a fountain of cum all over the kitchen's floor yet. And she wasn't going to stop. Recognizing it, Jennie blew some hot air right at your throbbing spot. It had barely been two minutes of her sucking you off, but it felt like she had been there for two hours. She was truly hungry for some long, big sausage for breakfast.

Jennie still hadn't stopped sucking your cock; you just groaned and stood on the edge, waiting for her torture to be over. You were conflicted; maybe you should just shoot all over her mouth and move on to something else. She licked, jerked, mopped, and, most of all, sucked your hard prick like she wanted to give you a heart attack. "Stop," you murmured, but she didn't hear a peep, instead shoving your tip to bulge under her cheeks and deepthroating your shaft using no hands, then slapping it under her clothed chest before giving your cock some kisses and resuming with her fast-paced sucking.

You barely survived Jennie's five-minute-long cock-sucking barrage. Your eyes brightened when she said those words: "Wanna fuck me?" as Jennie spread her right leg and placed it at the kitchen's sink, her holes just peeking under her shirt. You had 5 minutes at most, so you had to enjoy every second of it, sticking your cock in her tight vaginal entrance shortly after. Jennie pushed her right leg in your direction and let you grab her by her right thigh, making your cock point vertically towards her pussy to reach deeper inside it.

Jennie's tight pussy offered a lot of resistance to your shaft. No matter how many such sessions she had, she always managed to keep her holes tight with plenty of exercise. You had to grab her lower thigh instead, but so far only your tip has managed to dive under her massive clitorial hood. Your penetrations were somewhat shallow, but lucky for you, they seemed to have hit the right spots, unless she was faking those out-of-breath moans she started to give after a few adjustments you made to penetrate her cunt.

You made sure to sense how she felt as you suddenly penetrated her deeper, making Jennie squeal for the first time. She firmly held her small body against the sink, giving you a naughty stare as your cock finally managed to fully stretch her out, taking advantage to lift her leg even higher and grab her by the waist. You could finally get a view of her throbbing clit and you hadn't even touched it due to the inconvenience of her shirt; instead, it was Jennie who took advantage of her clit being more accessible to finger herself. "Give it to me, baby," she said in a sexy voice while running her tongue all over her lips.

Jennie held herself by your neck, while her elbow was the only thing keeping her still tied to the sink, making her little, fragile body ache. In spite of that, you showed no signs of slowing down, giving her short but very deep pumps in her slit. You firmly gripped Jennie's slim waist, giving her faster and deeper poundings each time. She switched positions, putting her legs back on the floor and clenching her pussy all over your shaft while doing so. Now you had both hands on her waist and only 3 minutes left, so it was time to hit hard with no worries.

You increased the speed with which you hammered Jennie's cunt, taking her fully under control as your right hand grabbed her waist while your left hand grabbed her neck. Jennie reached under her shirt and spread her ass cheeks a little to ease the pressure of your deep pumps hitting her cervix at full speed. Just as she did that, your balls clapped intensely against her cheeks, smashing her little fingers. You quickly found out that two hands on her waist was the way to go, as you were much stronger than her. She had no answer to your hard pumps except moaning and screaming like a slut.

Jennie stopped as she climbed on top of the sink, now facing you. You once again grabbed her right thigh, but this time she managed to push you closer by wrapping her left leg around your butt as you entered back into her pussy. Now you were the one putting Jennie literally on the edge, as her ass was about to fall from the sink before you pushed it up just in time. Jennie's pussy finally on full display to you makes you try even harder, as you can now fully see your throbbing monster bulge under her little trimmed bush. She's a master of moaning; her voice is so sexy, it makes you wonder if she could release a single just recording them and top the charts.

"Ah yes, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah," she continues to moan as your cock stretches her fuckhole at a steady pace and your skin claps against her meaty clit. You hit Jennie as deep as you can before letting her climb down the sink. You assume your 10 minutes are over as Jennies goes back to kneeling to suck your meat and milk you dry in a minute or so. Using her no-hands sucking of your manhood, you brace yourself to blast in Jennie's mouth at any second. She places her hands on your thighs and then masturbates your shaft while muffling her moans under your balls. A fast jerking of your foreskin and her tongue running up and down your shaft have you on the edge of your seat once more. She kisses your tip and spits on your dick. You now have only one minute left, and try to hold on until the moment finally comes.

Jennie gives you a fast jerkoff while inserting your tip in her mouth. You know she's searching for that cum. She doesn't even try to hide anymore. You just feel satisfied if you fill her warm mouth with a hot and heavy dose of sperm at this point. 30 seconds left. More jerkoffs from Jennie. She slaps your tip on her tongue, then goes back to suck it deep. 10 seconds left. You just relax and close your eyes; whatever comes next will be enough for you. That's when Jennie surprises you with those words:

"I think you earned a few extra minutes," she says, putting her left knee on the kitchen table while her right knee is slightly lower on the bench. It takes a bit for you to regain strength from Jennie's almost deadly blowjob, as you start back with very slow pumps in her pussy, grabbing her by the hair as you manage to get halfway in, with her pussy tightening after those minutes without your cock inserted in it. As your cock finally disappears under her shirt, Jennie starts screaming harder. "AHHH. AHHH. AHHH. AHHH.." Her cheeks jiggle as she approves of your pounding. Then words that are about to send you to the heavens come from her mouth.

"Now I want you to fuck my ass," Jennie says as she closes her legs and plants both of them on the floor before spreading them back for your anal insertion. Jennie screams and gleefully licks her thumb as you insert your full length in her asshole, reaching under her shirt to masturbate herself. Your well-above-average girth was too much even for an experienced anal cocksleeve like Jennie, as she placed her hands on her ass to spread and ease up her butthole entrance. Your cock filled every inch of her anus, making her pant at each thrust.

"Oh, this feels good," Jennie says once the initial pain is gone. She's a quick learner and can adjust to any cock, enjoying your anal stretching to the fullest now. "Ahhhh, that's good!" Jennie screams of pleasure as your meat keeps drilling her asshole and establishes a consistent rhythm, not going super rough on her and just using your firm grip on her waist to your advantage when penetrating. She alternates sexy murmurs with more high-pitched screams as you advance inside her tight hole.

Jennie puts her legs fully over the table. The gape in her butthole is much wider now and makes for much easier penetration this time. You place both hands in her ass and softly push your cock, leading to more sexy noises from her. She licks her index finger and puts it in your mouth to suck. You go a little faster as your cock starts to fully disappear inside her anus, but even as you increase the speed, you're very passionate and try as much as possible not to hammer her just for the sake of it.

"Yes, just keep fucking my ass," Jennie approves. You once again increase the pace and hit her deeper as she pants and makes some cute little noises with her mouth barely open. Now it's your turn to shove your thumb on it as the tongues it. You ruin her lipstick and mark her neck with it as your thumb slides down. Your pace is very steady as you touch all of Jennie's erogenous zones, with a little grope of her tits under the shirt and some massaging of her neck as well.

You finally can't resist the urge to pound her asshole hard and fast, giving Jennie fast thursts that she enjoys a lot. "Yes, yes, please," she says as you finally clap her cheeks while performing anal on her. Jennie used the whole table as a support for her body and groans as your hard pounding finally arrives into her asshole, just like you did minutes before to her cunt. Clapping sounds keep coming out every time your hips touch her butt. Jennie screams harder as her butthole finally gets fully stretched out.

"YES. YES. YES," Jennie says, almost losing her voice as you take her by surprise with fast hammerings in her asshole. You now mold her rectum to the shape of your girthy manhood, making clap sounds in her ass that match with her perfect out-of-breath moans. "It feels so good to be fucked in the ass; I'll give you 10 extra minutes," Jennie says as you pull out of her.

Jennie gets on her knees and masturbates herself. She isn't lying. The last time one of her morning acquaintances got to have anal sex with her, she was still under YG. This was her first morning anal fuck as a self-made record label owner. She licks her chops and gives you a demand: "I want you to stick this cock in my ass until you cum," as she spreads her legs to sit in your thick man meat.

You weren't prepared for Jennie's fast ride on top of your dick as you grunt each time she reaches the base of it. You cling to her little tits, but that only makes her go harder. She might be small, but takes your big cock impaling her with ease. Your just like a veiny and meaty version of the big dildo she rides every day first thing in the morning.

After a few clashes with your hips, Jennie stops mid-air and starts fingering herself. You seize the opportunity to push your cock up her rectum. "Ohhh, yes, yes, yes, perfect," she loves when you do it. The harder you pound her, the more heat she puts in her clit while fingering it, and the higher she screams. "Just keep g..." She can't even finish the sentence as your cock and her finger team up perfectly to give her an insane orgasm.

Jennie's loud screams motivate you to fuck her harder; your cock is now taking full ownership of her asshole. You can't even barely see the results of your pounding, thanks to her shirt, but her screams are all you need to hear to keep doing what you're doing. "OH. OH. OH. OH,"  she keeps yelling as your impalement session shows no signs of slowing down—quite the opposite. Her stretched cunt muscles also expand as squirt starts coming out of her vagina with each pounding.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHH," Jennie lets out a prolonged scream as your balls keep making a loud noise each time they smash her ass cheeks. She holds herself by the tip of her toes as each pounding now has her on the verge of collapsing. You suddenly stop and let her do the work now, as she bounces just as fast as your pumps. It ends up being a very smart decision, as Jennie tightens her anus around your thick prick and sends shivers all over the shaft of your dick. The rough pounding truly awakened her inner beast, as she now rides you like a maniac for a couple minutes.

"Carry me and fuck me hard," she demands, and you oblige, firmly grabbing her ass and lifting her tiny body. Your dick slides under her oversized shirt straight back to her pussy. "Just fuck my pussy nonst... AH, AH, AH, AH," once again she fails to finish a sentence as your cock hammers her hard. The cheek-clapping sounds at this position are the loudest so far, and you love being in full control and stetching Jennie's walls at full speed, turning her into a slut that only has one word in her vocabulary to speak. She attempts a little ride on your cock, but you are having none of it, just plowing her even harder after she tries it. "AH, YES, YES, YES, YES," is all she can say.

You want to relax a little after such an intense session and sit on the floor. "I think you earned this," Jennie says as she finally takes her shirt off and lets you see her naked body in full display. She sits her ass back on your boner, letting you see her little thong marks. Jennie twerks her little ass as you put just the tip inside her, giving you easy access to suck her tits as she tilts her body in your direction. Jennie may not have the biggest ass, but she knows how to twerk on a cock, spanking herself and turning her cheeks red while she bounces, letting out sexy moans at each slap.

You try to push up, but Jennie quickly shuts her tight hole down and smashes your shaft, moving upwards for more twerking. You grab her cheeks as she slowly opens up her butthole to your meat and increases the pace of her ride, flipping her hair while bouncing her ass straight into the base of your dick.

"Take it, stretech that ass," she commands as she gets her body close to yours, letting you do the work of attempting to drill her anus all the way deep. Her moans start to get out of breath once you pick up the speed. She starts dueling with your cock, twerking while you try to push it up her butthole. "Fuck my ass," she keeps demanding, urging you to rise to the challenge and impale her to the fullest.

You finally do, making your balls clap a lot against her cheeks as you groan at each thrust. You jackhammer Jennie and make her let out even sexier moans. You lift your body off the ground as much as you can, making Jennie's tiny body almost float in the air with each pump. "Ohhh, fuck," Jennie says as she starts panting, with you giving your maximum to fuck her now as she takes pounding after pounding from your massive meat.

Even though Jennie looks very tired, you ended up more exhausted than her, leaving room for her to restart twerking on your cock. As Jennie takes advantage of it, you just watch and let her be the star of the show, the it girl, the ace of morning sex. Jennie's rapid and shallow bounces end up being too much for you to handle, as you shoot ropes of semen all over her butthole as soon as she gives herself another spank that clenches her already tight anal walls to the point your cock can no longer resist.

Jennie turns her microwave on and starts preparing a little hot chocolate to heal herself after such a good fuck. As the chocolate finishes heating up, Jennie gets back to you and says, "I think it needs some milk.". She scoops the cum that fell onto your belly and farts the cum inside her asshole into a cup, adding it to the hot chocolate mug and mixing it up, drinking the whole thing in front of you. "So tasty, just like I wanted it," she says.

"I have to go now; I'm late to work, and I have a lot of business to do today. I'm starting a new life, so I'm very busy. I guess I'll have to take the helicopter to work," she said. Yes, Jennie was truly a celebrity beyond your league. You truly felt a little jealous but somewhat proud that you managed to cum inside the Jennie Kim's tight asshole as you dressed yourself up and took off, knowing you'd be at least an hour late to your work and face the worst of rush hour.

A few weeks passed by. Jennie did not contact you. Maybe she was indeed lying, and you were just a quickie to warm her up for a busy day. One day, as you were already on your way to work and on the verge of leaving the condo, a text message popped on your screen; it was from her, this time sending you a full-body shot of her naked with the caption. "Come to my house NOW".

You didn't hesitate, making a U-turn with your car and heading to Jennie's home. Her door was already open just waiting for you to come, as you find Jennie this time in her living room. In an inversion of the first time you two met, this time you had your full work attire on while she was wearing just her underwear.

"Do anything you want to me," she says, giving you the sign to come in her direction.

You're definitely not going to work today.

[katsumox]

"the roomate."

~1k words. jason todd x reader.

there's so much sexual tension here it should be illegal. anyway..

“Fuck you, Jason. Literally fuck you,” you shout, stomping into the shared apartment.

It was the third argument this week. It's been two months since you moved in, and the two of you have been arguing ever since. You found Jason's apparent severe dislike for you confusing, as you'd been nothing if not outright kind to him. At the very least, you've been an amicable and considerate roommate.

Time after time, Jason Todd found ways to get under your skin in the apartment you shared with him, Roy, and Kori. Though you were a new addition to the trio, you meshed extremely well with everyone, except Jason, of course. The two redheads were quick to tell you that Jason didn’t get along with many, but he didn’t mean any harm. Nevertheless, The four of you began renting a condo for the sake of cheap rent when the going got tough.

Something about you seemed to fundamentally irritate Jason. Maybe it was the fact that you didn’t have a perpetual stick up your ass, unlike him, or maybe it was because he had a natural aversion to anything happy or remotely nice. Perhaps it was the way you found reasons to smile and laugh obscenely hard at jokes his male friends say, but somehow find Jason entirely unfunny. Or perhaps it’s the fact that you don’t immediately shut down Roy’s frequent flirty jokes and offers for dates.

“Oh,” he drawls, eyes widened. “Didn’t think good girls like you cursed,” he mocks, following you into the shared living space.

You roll your eyes, kicking off your heels with a little more malice than you probably should.

“Just because you make it your life’s mission to be the meanest, most inconsiderate son of a bitch on the planet,” you snarl, stalking towards your room, “doesn’t mean I have to deal with it. Be a fucking cunt on your own time.”

“Fuck did you just say to me?”

You whip around, tired of the back and forth. “You heard exactly what the fuck I said.”

The smell of his cologne mixed with gunpowder all but invades your senses as he storms toward you.

“Fuck you,” he sneers, eyes narrowed. His hulking form towers over you, his neck craned down to see all of you as he backs you into a corner. At nearly 6’4, a literal wall of muscle and angst, he towers over you, posturing.

His near-permanent scowl hardens as you refuse to break eye contact, despite something in you begging to. Jason's always been pretty. If not for his attitude, you'd find him incredibly attractive. In fact, you think, mentally frowning, you find him attractive despite his cold demeanor. Maybe even because of it.

The rough timbre of Jason’s voice wakes you from your silent stupor.

“Tell me to leave,” he murmurs, pressing himself closer to you, lips just barely ghosting your own. He pulls back, realizing the desperation in his voice in tandem with his proximity to you is maddening.

“Tell me to get the fuck out," he says, breathless. "To stop touching you,” his hand now lightly squeezing your jaw, keeping you in place. Keeping you from avoiding confrontation.

His focus flickers between your lips and your eyes, taking labored breaths.

You part your lips, as whatever thought you began to formulate dies as you realize the proximity of Jason’s lips to yours. You take a shallow breath again. You could count every one of his dark, long eyelashes from here, you think. Every one of his sun spots and freckles, and scars.

“Tell me not to. Tell me now,” he rasps, blueish-green eyes half-hidden by low eyelids. Something unspoken passes between the two of you, neither of you saying anything, yet saying everything all at once. You take a breath, hoping your words won't fail you for a second time.

"…Fuck it."

Suddenly you both are on each other, kissing, clawing, and caressing all the same.

A groan rumbles in Jason's chest as you paw at him. You've been enveloped by him in all his entirety; his smell, his taste, his sounds. You press at his chest, a solid wall of muscle, hoping to push him blindly, to where you think the couch is. The man smirks at your initiative, taking the hint.

He taps your ass twice, but you're too distracted by the taste of him on your lips.

"Be good f'me, doll. Lemme lift you,"

You hum, more concerned with the mountain of a man in front of you. He lifts you with ease, sitting you on his lap as he resumes his mission to make you break. Your nails scrape down his chest deliciously, drawing out another low, needy noise from the man. Jason takes note of how freely you let your hands roam, ghosting over places that haven't been touched in a long time.

"Eager, aren't we, sweetheart?"

"Shut up," you say at full volume, caught off guard by the nickname and forgetting where you are.

"Shut me up, then," Jason quips, pulling you up toward his face for another dizzying kiss. His kisses move from the corner of your mouth down your jaw. Featherlight touches follow him down to your collarbone, where he lightly nibbles at you.

You let out a strangled, needy noise, one far too loud and embarrassing for the time and place the two of you find yourselves in.

"Shh, shhh. 'S okay, baby," Jason coos, a devilish smile creeping up on his swollen lips. "Wouldn't want the others to hear you, would we?"

You hum and shake your head, dazed, as the man deftly rubs circles into your hip with his fingers.

"Guess we should take this to a more private place, hm, pretty girl?"

You nod emphatically, chasing his lips as he moves you off of him.

"So," he pauses, catching his breath. His black hair is tousled, his lips pink and swollen, and his pupils blown wide.

"Your room or mine?"

[bloatedandalone04]

No One Else

➪the one where you throw a housewarming party, and a.j. isn’t fond of all the guys staring at you in his new living room.

Warnings: this man is such a dom i swear, smut, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, swearing, pda, jealous a.j., alcohol consumption.

Word Count: 3.4k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

A.J. hated house parties. He would much rather go out to the club or a bar as he felt like the parties he threw at his apartment got too crowded too quickly.

But he was doing this for you.

About three months ago A.J. asked you to move in with him. He loved you more than anything else and he wanted you around him all the time, and you felt the same way. You agreed and moved out of your small loft and into his massive condo across the city.

While you were used to the city life, you were a bit overwhelmed since he was in the middle of it all. It was loud and chaotic whenever you opened the sliding door of the balcony, and the lights kept you up at night. You didn’t say anything about it, not wanting to give A.J. any ideas, but it wasn’t long until he discovered your distaste for this side of the city.

It was a big difference to where you lived previously, and he felt guilty about the sudden change. 

So he offered to move away from all of it, to give up the city life he had been living in for around twelve years for a cute and modern house in a neighborhood just outside the city. 

He let you have full control over pretty much everything in the house; from the appliances in the kitchen to the paint color in the living room. A.J. gave you his credit card and told you to go crazy, and you really took his words and ran with them.

You bought countless pieces of furniture and when they arrived at the home, A.J. spent a good day and a half building them with Jake. 

Now, a full week after settling into the new place, you decided to throw a house party to really break it in. 

The house was a lot bigger than his apartment, so it wasn’t as crowded, but he still hated having so many people in his personal space. But A.J. knew it was all worth it when he caught your eye from across the living room and saw the way your lips turned upwards into a happy smile.

He really would do anything for you without an ounce of hesitation. 

A.J. crossed the room after wrapping up his conversation with Jesse, and his hands found their home on your waist as he stood behind you. He knew you were smiling as you listened to the story Rachel was telling you, and that smile only grew when he leaned down to rest his chin on your shoulder. 

“You two are so cute, seriously,” Rachel beamed, finishing off her drink with a smile. “I can confidently say you were made for each other.”

“Just like you and Jake,” came your sweet reply and A.J. felt the corners of his mouth lift upwards as you sipped on your wine. 

“Speaking of,” he trailed off, lifting his head and looking around the packed room. “Where is your fiancé, Rach?”

Rachel furrowed her brows as she, too, looked around the room. “I’m not sure, actually,” she answered. “Let me know if you find him, and let me know if he looks like he’s had too much to drink. If he’s plastered, tell him he’s sleeping on the couch when we get home.”

A.J. laughed as he kissed the side of your neck before moving away from you. “Will do,” 

“Come find me later,” you requested in a soft voice, smiling at him afterwards. “I shouldn’t miss you this much in our own house.”

A.J. held back a groan as he moved towards you again and firmly gripped your jaw, pressing a deep kiss to your mouth. You grin against his lips and tangle your free hand in his hair, his lack of hat tonight making it very easy. “Damn, baby,” he muttered as he pulled away and you ran the tip of your tongue along his bottom lip. “You make a guy not want to leave.”

You grin at him and shrug. “Hurry back, Jay,” 

He bit his lip as he nodded and turned to go seek out his best friend. He found Jake in the kitchen talking to John, and they both looked like they were on the verge of being wasted. “A.J.! Hey, buddy!” Jake greeted as the tattooed man entered the room. “This is a nice place you got here.”

“Yeah, man, I like how secluded it is,” John added as he looked around the room. “You buy it with that two million we snagged from those transport trucks?” He asked loudly and A.J. had to deliver a quick slap to his shoulder to stop John from exposing the source of his income to all his new neighbors. 

And there were a lot of them. 

The neighborhood you were now living in was well populated, and you had taken it upon yourself to invite all of them to the party in hopes to get to know them. A.J. wasn’t very fond of strangers in his house, but it was just another thing he forced himself to deal with since he was so in love with you. 

“Keep your voice down,” A.J. muttered as John gave him an apologetic smile. 

“Sorry, man,” he laughed. “Your new neighbors were very generous with their housewarming gifts.” John held up the bottle of champagne with a bow tied around it, and A.J. just shook his head. 

“Just try not to tell the guests all our secrets, yeah?” 

John nodded and gave him a salute before wandering off towards the dining room where Gordon was. “A.J., buddy, I never thought I’d see you get out of the city, man,” Jake said as he leaned against the counter with a beer in his hand. 

“You and me both,” he murmured as he took the half empty bottle from Jake.

“The things we do for the women we love, huh?” Jake asked as he moved to sit down at the kitchen table. 

“Speaking of, Rachel told me that if I saw you and you were drunk, I have to tell you that you’re sleeping on the couch,” A.J. informed the tipsy man, who just laughed. 

“She might say that, but she can’t sleep without me, man, I’m like her personal pillow,”

A.J. shook his head and set the bottle on top of the fridge, knowing damn well that Jake could easily reach it. “Good thing she’s marrying you then,”

“Hey, when are you and your girl getting married?” Jake asked as he grabbed a handful of chips and ate them all at once. “You’ve been together about as long as Rachel and I have, when are you gonna ask her the question?”

“I don’t know, man,” A.J. answered as he avoided the crumbs flying out of Jake’s mouth with each word he said. “Soon.”

“You have the ring, don’t you?”

A.J. nodded and Jake grabbed one of the cookies off the dessert plate on the table. “Yeah, I’m just waiting for the right time,” 

Jake leaned back just as Rachel entered the kitchen and made her way over to the two guys. “Don’t wait too long, buddy,” he advised as Rachel moved to stand next to him. “Putting a ring on this one’s finger was the best decision I ever made.” He wrapped his arm around his fiancée’s waist as he smiled up at her. 

Rachel laughed as she draped her arm around Jake’s shoulders. “You’re planning on proposing?” She asked with excitement lacing her voice. “Do it soon, then Y/n/n and I can be engaged at the same time. Ooh, maybe a double wedding!”

A.J. shook his head with a smile as he looked towards the doorway, expecting to see you enter at any second since Rachel was now in here. When you didn’t, he glanced at your best friend and asked, “Where is she, anyway? You leave her to get lost in her own house?”

Rachel playfully rolled her eyes. “No, I was just making sure this guy was behaving,” she nudged Jake, who just continued smiling up at her. “Last I saw her, she was talking to the next door neighbor who hasn’t been able to take his eyes off her all night.”

A.J.’s smile faded at that and he left the kitchen without saying another word. Rachel and Jake’s conversation faded into the background as he entered the living room again, and instead of finding you where he left you by the sliding door, you were by the couch and talking to some dark haired guy. 

While he knew he had no reason at all to be jealous, seeing as this was his own fucking living room he shared with you, A.J. still didn’t like seeing you around guys who clearly just wanted to sleep with you.

And this guy did a very bad job at hiding the fact that he wanted to fuck you. 

A.J. made his way over to you, receiving a slap on his shoulder from Jesse as he did so. You wanted him to find you later, and he was more than ready to take you up on that offer now. 

Your eyes drifted from the brunet and met A.J.’s, and a smile formed on your lips, instantly replacing the barely hidden look of boredom on your face.

The guy probably thought you were smiling at him, but A.J. sorted him out pretty quickly as he stepped around the stranger and wrapped his arm around your waist. He pulled you into his side and he didn’t even bother glancing at the guy’s face before he was pressing a deep kiss to your mouth. 

You return it immediately and lean into his touch when he lifts his free hand up to grip your jaw and angle your head, and you willingly give him full control of the kiss. He slowly pulls away and smirks at the way you keep your eyes closed for a few more seconds before he looks over at the guy, who did not look happy at all. “New friend, baby?” He asked, making you open your eyes and look over as well. 

“Um, this is….Dean?” You question and A.J. held back a laugh at the offended look Dean gave you. “He’s our new neighbor, Jay.”

“Nice to meet you,” A.J. said and ignored Dean’s outstretched hand as he turned back to you and leaned in close. “Do you know how badly I want to fuck you right now?” He asked under his breath as Dean stood awkwardly next to him. 

Your eyes widen and you let out a startled laugh. “A.J,” you gasp quietly and look over at your neighbor with a blush.

A.J. glanced over at him, too, before beginning to pull you towards the half-bath next to the hallway that led to yours and his room. You feebly waved at Dean as A.J. made a show of guiding you into the bathroom, a smug smirk on his lips when he saw Dean’s glare. 

Once he entered the bathroom as well, he closed the door and locked it before pushing you up against it. “I gotta say, baby,” he murmured as his hands pulled up the black material of your dress. “I’m not a big fan of our new neighbors.”

You lean your head back against the door as he bunches your dress around your hips and teased your clit through the thin material of your panties. “Why? Not friendly enough?” 

A.J. grunted as he pushed the lace material down your legs and let it drop to the tiled floor. “They’re too friendly,” he answered as he picked you up and set you down on the marbled countertop. 

You squeal at the cold surface against your burning skin and cling onto his shoulders. “Fuck, A.J.,” you mumble and tug at his suspenders. “What’s gotten into you? You were fine when you left to go find Jake.”

He would never admit that he was jealous of that prick in his living room, so he shrugged and kissed along your shoulders. “Nothings gotten into me,” he said under his breath. “But hopefully I can get into you.”

You moan loudly, despite being able to clearly hear the party guests outside the door. “Well, when you say it like that,” you tease and drop your hands to the button on his dress pants. “But we have to be quick, Jay. We’re hosting right now.”

“Fuck them,” he rasped as he reached his hand in between your bodies and sunk his index and middle fingers into your heat. “Fuck everyone out there, baby. We’re in our house. I should take you back out there and fuck you right on that couch.” 

You moan at his dirty words and run your hands through his hair, successfully making it messy. No one else got that privilege as he usually spent a good ten minutes doing his hair - just to throw a hat over it, but he would happily let you mess it up whenever you wanted. “You’d actually do it, too,” 

A.J. smirked at you as he worked you open with his fingers. “I would,” he agreed as he looked down. “You’re dripping, baby. Did the teaser I gave you in front of Dean turn you on that much?”

“That and you,” came your muffled answer as you buried your face against the side of his neck. “Are you really going to fuck me in the bathroom at a party?”

“Yes,” he answered as you unzipped his pants. “Unless you feel like waiting until everyone leaves and I can fuck you all over the house. Fair warning, though, I don’t think this party is dying any time soon.”

You moan and lift your head. “Get to it, then,” you murmur and pull him free. A.J. presses his lips to yours at the same time he enters you with a single thrust, and the feeling has you grasping onto his shirt tightly. “Fuck. Is this how you did it in the Ivy League? Fucking random girls in bathrooms during parties?”

“Had to practice somehow. And you’re not just a random girl,” he said back and you laughed before moaning rather loudly as he began to roughly fuck into you. You slap one hand over your mouth with wide eyes and he smirks. “Can’t be quiet, huh, baby?”

You shake your head as you lean back against the mirror. “No,” you agree and tug on his hair with your other hand. “I can’t be quiet when it comes to you, Jay. You make me feel so good.”

A.J. groaned when you clenched around him, and he knew he wasn’t much better. One of the perks of living in an actual house and not an apartment, was that you and he could be as loud as you wanted. 

Not that the thin walls of your last apartment stopped you from being loud. You’d received countless noise complaints, and they all were ignored by A.J., who just fucked you harder until the bed slammed against the wall with each thrust.  

It was like how he was fucking into you now. 

Your body moved further and further back on the counter until you had to place your hand flat against the marble, accidentally knocking over the bottle of soap in the process and making it fall to the floor. “Jesus,” you gasped as his hips rocked into yours. 

A.J. grunted and kept one hand on your hip while his other reached up to grip the side of your face. “God, you’re tight,” he rasped, making you smirk as you wrap your legs tighter around him. 

The smirk was promptly wiped from your face as he began roughly slamming into you, loud moans emitting from your mouth with each thrust. “Oh, my God,” you cried as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, your hands bunching up his shirt tightly. “Fuck yes, Jay.”

A.J. groaned and pressed his mouth to yours, his tongue poking out and parting your lips, coating them in a layer of his spit. “Feel good, princess?” He teasingly asked and you nod uncontrollably. 

“Feels so good,” you answer, clinging onto him as you feel your release approaching embarrassingly fast. “So fucking good.”

He grunted, kissing all over your neck as you squeezed him over and over again. “You’re taking me so well, baby,” he praised, reaching behind you to pull on your hair. 

You squeal a bit, hiking your body closer to his as you hear the sounds of the party-goers right outside the door. “I’m gonna come, fuck, I’m gonna come,” you warned loudly, no longer caring about the guests hearing you at this point. 

“Already?” He mocked, pulling at your bottom lip with his thumb. “You needed me just as badly as I needed you, huh?”

“Yes,” you whimpered, your body involuntarily bucking forward to meet his thrusts. “Oh, my fucking God, yes, please please please.”

A.J. gripped your waist in both hands, his still clothed thighs hitting the backs of yours as you moaned loudly in the surprisingly big half-bath. 

You grip his back and pull his chest against yours as you feel your release take over. “Oh, God,” you cried out as you clamped impossibly tight around him. “I’m coming.”

A.J. cursed under his breath as he felt your walls pulse around him before a warmth took him over. “There you go, baby. Give it to me,” he muttered, and your whines increased in volume. “Good girl.” He praised, kissing the skin under your ear as you writhed against him. 

“Are you…” you trailed off as you slumped against his chest, his hips still lazily rocking into yours. “Are you gonna come, too?”

A.J. let out a surprised moan at your dirty question and how sweetly you asked it. He leaned in and kissed you hard, using his hand to angle your head so he had better access to your mouth. “Do you want me to?”

“Yes,” you answer instantly. “I want it so bad.”

His eyes shut tightly as he buried his face against the side of your neck. “I’ll come for you,” he promised, feeling his stomach tighten with each slow thrust he gave. “I always will.”

You whine and pull him impossibly close as he came hard, his hips fucking his release deeper and deeper into you as he groaned loudly. 

When he pulls away, you smile shyly at him as you smooth out his shirt with  a quiet laugh. “Is it all out of your system now?”

“Is what all out of my system?” He asked as he pressed a chaste kiss to your mouth. “My unhealthy need to fuck you all over our new house? No, that won’t be out of my system for quite a while.”

You laugh then bite your lip as he pulls out of you, then he reaches down to run two fingers through your sensitive core. He collects his release onto his digits before lifting his hand again, and you lean in to wrap your mouth around them, hearing him grunt deeply as you clean himself off his fingers. “Tasty,” you smirk once you pull away. 

A.J. had to hold off on taking you right then and there as he felt himself grow a bit hard again. Instead, he cleaned you up, smoothed out your outfit and finished it off with a kiss to your lips. “You ready to go back out there?” He asked and you nodded. “Don’t be surprised when we get some dirty looks, because I think every single person out there knows what we did in here.”

You shrug, looking up at him with a teasing smirk. “Who cares? It’s our house,” you point out and pull open the door. “Do me a favor and don’t fix your hair, okay?”

Then you were walking out of the bathroom, leaving A.J. to look at himself in the mirror with a laugh as he took notice of his post-sex hair. If it wasn’t obvious enough what you and he just got finished doing, his messy hair will definitely get the message across. 

And that was exactly why he left it as it is before following after you.

[dejwrld]

summary — in which the neighbor becomes a bystander in an explicit window show by infamous artist geto suguru.

warning readers discretion is advised ⸻ female reader, female anatomy described, exhibitionism, oral (suguru receiving), masturbation (f.solo), drug usage/drug consumption (weed), voyeurism, artist!geto suguru, if you squint a lil bit–you may see hints of dom!suguru, takes place in the same verse of my rockstar!choso fic, minors do not interact

sticky note from deja — one of my babies that i hold close to my heart. a repost from my old blog—only the girlies who followed my blog 2 years ago remember this gem. completely ahead of its time.

The large window was something you had to get used to. You thought about putting curtains up, but you adored how the natural sunlight gleamed into your newest condo. Or the fact that you had a perfect view of the apartment across from you. You weren’t even aware that someone lived in the apartment until you were near the window and saw a male figure carrying art supplies. Your curious eyes squint to get a better look at the person, but you just couldn’t see that far.

As you ate dinner alone, you would find yourself peeping at the man across from you. He always seemed to be cooped up in his artwork. Rubbing his hands that were covered with paint onto his sweatpants or ripping a piece of paper out from his sketchbook. You found yourself wanting to get a closer look, intrigued to get a closer look at the mysterious man. So you brought a pair of binoculars. Cheeks burning in embarrassment as you realize you were a peeping Tom. How desperate could you be to invade a man’s privacy like this?

One evening when you were twisting and turning in your bed, you gave up trying to sleep. Your feet dragged across the wooden floors towards your kitchen to make your favorite tea that usually helped you fall asleep. As you walked by the huge window where the moon illuminated inside your place, your eyes nearly popped out of your head seeing the view. Your hands frantically picked up the binoculars as you looked directly towards the artist’s apartment. There he was sitting in one of his living room chairs, a rolled blunt in between his lips as another woman was in between his legs. Your heart pounded in your chest watching his fingers comb through his long jet black hair as the woman’s head bobbed up and down on his cock.

You kept mumbling to yourself that this felt so wrong. But your eyes couldn’t pry away from the sight. The way he inhaled and exhaled while a smoke cloud swirled above him as he held the rolled substance in his hand. His other hand was placed on the back of the woman’s head moving with her movements. He was enjoying the wonderful feeling of being on cloud nine due to the weed he was consuming and then being brought back down from his high due to a woman’s lips wrapped around his cock. You felt the growing heat in between your thighs as you put the binoculars down, your hands growing sweaty at the thought of what you just witnessed. You wanted to close your eyes and hopefully, when you opened, you were just hallucinating…dreaming maybe. High off the same thing, the artist was smoking. When you brought the binoculars back to your eyes, your heart seemed to drop in your chest. There he was, the artist giving you a sly wave. If you squint hard enough, you would even admit that he was giving you some cocky smirk.

He knew you were watching.

You watched through the binoculars as he gently nudged the woman off him. The woman’s face was covered with her own saliva as he gripped at her hair dragging her closer to the huge window just so you can get a better look. Your heart seemed to beat faster as you tugged one of your dining room chairs closer to the window, your thighs clamped shut to ignore the ache from your pussy that was begging for attention. As your eyes peeped through the binoculars once more, the woman continued to suck the artist off. His rolled blunt was in between his lips as he would toy with the woman’s brunette hair, eventually putting it in a ponytail to stop her saliva from colliding with her hair.

“Shit.” You muttered to yourself, the little things like that turned you on. You couldn’t help but play with the band of your pajama shorts. You were aware that if he knew you were watching, he could most likely see you.

You would put the binoculars down for a second as you tugged your shorts down. You stepped out of them letting them decorate your wooden floors as you sat back down in the chair you pulled up. Your eyes once again peeked through the binoculars once you picked them back up. The artist’s large hand was placed on the window keeping his balance from the sensational pleasure he was receiving.

Your eyes peered at the man as his head fell back in complete bliss. Seeing the way his hips thrust into the woman’s mouth caused your fingers to climb into your panties. Your fingers rubbed at your folds, shocked at the fact that just by being a peeping Tom, you’ve grown wet. Brain rotting with the thoughts of the artist in the other building as you massaged your own cunt, your other hand gripping at the binoculars to get a perfect view of the artist.

Your lips parted slightly to let out a soft whimper as your fingers made a circular motion on your clit that was begging to be touched. The sight of the artist getting a blowjob from another woman caused you to be soaked below if only you were the one whose lips were wrapped around his cock. The thought of it caused you to push two of your fingers inside to feel around your damp walls. Your fingers stroked eagerly to hit that one spot that caused your toes to curl up in pure bliss. Binoculars glued to your eyes as you watch the artist stare in your direction. A smirk on his face as he would quickly put the blunt he was smoking out. You watched as his muscles flex at each movement the brunette made on his dick. Your teeth grind against your lower lip as you remove your fingers from yourself. Your own wetness glistened your fingers that now were rubbing at your clit.

You watched as the artist’s hips thrust forward. The brunette on the floor grasped at the rug under her knees, trying to hold her balance due to the sudden aggression from the man in front of her. Saliva dripped on the floor and on the brunette’s lap as tears trickled down her cheeks. The actions you were viewing caused you to rub even faster; you could feel the heat pooling in the pit of your abdomen. You watched as the artist’s head fell back as the brunette-haired woman used her hands to massage his shaft. Mimicking his motions as your head also fell back and once again insert your fingers to push around your wet walls. Your imagination lets you wonder and wish that the artist’s fingers were inside you, edging you on bit by bit. A moan hitched from the back of your throat as your vision was getting blurry. The last sight through the binoculars you caught a glimpse of before you were pushed into your orgasm was the artist removing himself from the woman’s mouth. A mixture of his cum and the brunette’s saliva dripped off the artist’s cock.

The binoculars clattered to the ground once you felt your walls clutch around your fingers. Your chest rose up and down as you seemed to slump in the wooden chair you were sitting in. Sitting in your own pool of wetness, you could see that the artists had also finished up. The girl who was blowing him off was walking out of the living room to clean herself up, her face a sloppy mess as she licked her lips of any cum that spilled out her mouth. You quickly grabbed the binoculars, your cheeks steamed with embarrassment as you couldn’t even believe the action you’d just done. You see him staring right back at you when you peek through them to end your night. He had a grin on his face as he gave you a wave right before he turned his living room light off, most likely to go join the woman he just face-fucked.

You placed the binoculars down and started to clean the mess you made. Your mind is still racing due to the actions you just committed. It was such a new thing, and your friends wouldn’t even believe you if you told them what you did. You pushed the chair back into the dining space of your condo and eventually went to shower. Praying that the shower's steam would push out the thoughts of the artist living rent-free in your mind.

The following morning, you seemed to have dozed off on your living room couch last night. A fluffy blanket tugged on your body, and your television was on. As you sat up, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you seemed to begin remembering the following night's events. Your heart nearly jumped out of your chest as you jolted up, going towards the window. You couldn’t see the artist walking around his apartment, nor did you see the brunette woman that was wrapped around his cock. But you did see something. You grabbed your binoculars, peeping through them for one last time, and your lips parted to let out a scandalous gasp.

There stood in the living room, close to the large window that the artist once was using as support last night, a painting. A painting so explicit that it caused you to place your hand on your chest in disbelief. The painting was a painting of you last night. On the canvas was an explicit painting of you masturbating at the view of him. You couldn’t help but notice the details he put into his work, especially considering that you live in an apartment building across from his. He had to have such a vivid imagination to create such a piece.

And in the corner, you saw his signature in black paint.

Geto Suguru.

The artist’s name was Geto Suguru.

[hookhausenschips]

The Edge of Defiance

Chapter 6 of The Game Of Seduction

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Summary: In this chapter, Y/N grows restless in the quiet monotony of recovery at Lando's condo, feeling trapped by her circumstances and eager to regain her autonomy. Despite Lando's protective objections and concerns about her physical readiness and the condition of her apartment, Y/N firmly asserts her independence, leading to a tense confrontation that underscores their conflicting perspectives and the unspoken complexities of their relationship. Their argument is laced with unresolved tension, past trauma, and Y/N’s determination to reclaim control over her life, even as Lando’s care reveals deeper layers of concern and possibly unacknowledged feelings.

WC: 4.9k

Warnings: Mafia Dealings, Emotional Confrontation, References to Violence or Trauma, Injury/Recovery, Conflict in Relationships

Taglist

• you DO NOT have my permission to copy my work, upload as your own, translate, or repost on any other website •

It had been nearly a week since the fight with Malik, and the tension in Lando’s condo had finally begun to ease. Y/N was healing, her injuries no longer the sharp reminders they had been but now dull aches she could tolerate.  

The days had fallen into a quiet rhythm: meals shared in silence, brief moments of conversation, and the occasional sharp glance from Lando when she pushed herself too hard.  

But Y/N wasn’t built for stillness, and she could feel the walls closing in on her.  

Y/N sat cross-legged on the couch, absently picking at a loose thread on the sleeve of her hoodie. Across the room, Lando was leaning against the kitchen counter, his gaze fixed on her like he was waiting for her to drop some kind of bombshell.  

“I’m going back to my apartment,” Y/N said abruptly, breaking the silence.  

Lando’s brow furrowed, his posture stiffening. “Excuse me?”  

“You heard me,” she replied, meeting his gaze without hesitation. “I’ve been here long enough. It’s time to go back to my own place.”  

He crossed his arms, his expression darkening. “You’re not ready for that.”  

Y/N let out a sharp laugh, leaning back against the couch. “Ready? I didn’t realize I needed permission to live in my own damn apartment.”  

“You know that’s not what I mean,” Lando said, his voice dropping. “You’re still recovering, and your place is barely livable. What’s the rush?”  

“The rush,” Y/N said, standing now, her tone dripping with sarcasm, “is that I have my own place. And in case you forgot, I’m not dating you, I haven’t moved in here, and I don’t intend to. This has been... cozy, but I’ve got my own space, and I want it back.”  

--- 

She had a way of making every logical argument sound ridiculous, and it drove me insane.  

“This isn’t about you staying here,” I said, pinching the bridge of my nose. “It’s about making sure you’re safe. You’re still hurt, Y/N. And your apartment isn’t exactly secure.”  

She rolled her eyes, grabbing her bag from the floor. “I appreciate the concern, Norris, but I’m not some damsel in distress. I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it long before you showed up.”  

Her words stung more than I cared to admit. “You think this is about me wanting to control you?”  

She shot me a pointed look. “You’re blocking the door, aren’t you?”  

I sighed, stepping aside reluctantly. “Fine. Do whatever you want. But don’t come crying to me when you realize this is a mistake.”  

--- 

The ride to Y/N’s apartment was tense, neither of them saying much. Lando drove, his jaw tight as he navigated the city streets. Y/N stared out the window, her fingers tapping against her thigh in an erratic rhythm.  

When they arrived, the building looked the same as always, but Y/N’s stomach twisted as she stepped out of the car.  

Lando followed her to the door, his presence a quiet but heavy reminder of their earlier argument.  

“You don’t have to do this,” he said as she unlocked the door.  

“I know,” she replied without looking back. “But I want to.”  

She pushed the door open and stepped inside.  

--- 

The air inside was heavy, stale, and full of memories I didn’t want to deal with yet.  

The living room was a mess—glass shards still glittered on the floor, and the splintered remains of the doorframe were a stark reminder of what had happened.  

I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. This was my place. My chaos. I could fix it.  

Behind me, Lando lingered in the doorway, his arms crossed as he surveyed the wreckage. “It’s worse than I thought.”  

I glanced back at him, raising a brow. “You should’ve seen it before the first clean-up. It had a certain ‘post-apocalyptic charm.’”  

He didn’t laugh, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Are you sure about this?”  

“Yes,” I said, walking further inside. “This is my space, Lando. I’m not letting Malik—or anyone else—take it away from me.”  

--- 

Lando stepped inside cautiously, watching as Y/N began to pick up the broken pieces of her apartment.  

She moved with purpose, her every action deliberate as she cleared the debris and set things right. But there was a tension in her shoulders, a weight she was trying to hide.  

“You don’t have to do this alone,” Lando said after a while, his voice quieter now.  

Y/N looked at him, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. “I know. But I need to. This isn’t your fight, Lando. It never was.”  

“It became my fight the moment you walked into my world,” he replied, his tone firm.  

She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue.  

--- 

It took hours to clean up the mess, but I felt better with every piece of glass I swept away and every overturned chair I set upright.  

By the time I collapsed onto the couch, the apartment looked almost normal. It wasn’t perfect, but it was mine again.  

Lando sat down on the armrest, his expression unreadable as he glanced around the room. “You’ve made progress.”  

“Damn right, I have,” I said, leaning back with a tired smile. “And before you ask—no, I’m not moving back into your condo. This is my space.”  

His lips twitched into the faintest smirk. “You’re nothing if not stubborn.”  

“Takes one to know one,” I shot back.  

--- 

Lando stood, his hands slipping into his pockets as he looked down at her. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re insane for coming back here so soon.”  

“Noted,” Y/N replied with a grin.  

“But,” he continued, his voice softening, “I’m glad you’re okay. And for the record, you don’t have to do everything on your own.”  

Y/N’s smile faltered slightly, her tone losing its usual edge. “Thanks for helping me, Lando. I mean it.”  

He nodded, his smirk fading into something more genuine. “Don’t mention it.”  

As he turned to leave, Y/N watched him go, a faint warmth settling in her chest.  

She wouldn’t admit it to him, but having him there—even for a little while—made her feel less alone. 

--- 

Y/N waited until the sound of Lando’s car faded into the distance before pulling out her phone. She sat cross-legged on her couch, her fingers tapping against the edge of her phone case as she stared at Max’s name on the screen.  

This wasn’t a call she wanted to make, but she didn’t have a choice.  

With a resigned sigh, she tapped the screen and brought the phone to her ear.  

It didn’t take long for Max to pick up.  

“You’ve been quiet,” he said, skipping the pleasantries. “Too quiet.”  

“Yeah, well,” Y/N replied, leaning back against the couch. “I’ve been busy handling my life.”  

“Handling it or running from it?” Max asked, his tone sharp.  

She rolled her eyes. “Do you have a point, or is this just a check-in to see if I’m still breathing?”  

“I have your next mission,” Max said, cutting straight to the point.  

Y/N’s posture stiffened, her fingers tightening around the phone. “Go on.”  

--- 

“Mercedes and McLaren have been getting too cozy,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “We’ve been hearing whispers of a potential deal between them, something that could shift the balance in their favor. We need to know what it is.”  

“And let me guess,” Y/N said, her voice laced with sarcasm. “You want me to find out.”  

“Correct,” I replied. “There’s a warehouse near the docks, one of McLaren’s quieter operations. Our intel says there’s a file there—something that details the negotiations between McLaren and Mercedes. I need you to get it.”  

She let out a low whistle. “Breaking into a McLaren warehouse? You really don’t like me, do you?”  

“This isn’t personal,” I said, though we both knew that wasn’t entirely true. “It’s important. If they finalize this deal, it could set us back significantly.”  

--- 

I pinched the bridge of my nose, letting out a slow breath. “And what’s the plan if I get caught? You going to swoop in and save me?”  

“No,” Max said bluntly. “That’s why you’re not getting caught.”  

“Great,” I muttered. “No pressure or anything.”  

“You’re the best we’ve got, Y/N,” he said, his tone softening slightly. “That’s why you’re in this position. I wouldn’t send you if I didn’t think you could handle it.”  

I didn’t respond right away, my mind already running through the logistics. Breaking into a McLaren warehouse wasn’t just risky—it was reckless. But it was also the job, and I didn’t back down from challenges.  

“Fine,” I said finally. “Send me the details.”  

“You’ll have them within the hour,” Max replied. “And Y/N? Don’t let me down.”  

I hung up without responding, tossing the phone onto the coffee table as I leaned back against the couch.  

What the hell have I gotten myself into now?  

--- 

True to his word, Max sent the details of the mission within the hour. Y/N studied the information carefully, her mind piecing together a plan as she packed a small bag with everything she’d need.  

Her fingers hovered over the knife she’d taken from Lando’s office, the blade still sharp and pristine.  

He’d lose his mind if he knew what I was doing.  

The thought made her smirk, but it quickly faded as the weight of the mission settled over her. This wasn’t just about proving herself to Max or the Redbull family—it was about survival.  

If she failed, it wasn’t just her cover that would be blown.  

It was everything.  

--- 

The warehouse was going to be heavily guarded—that much was obvious. McLaren didn’t do anything halfway, and if this file was as important as Max made it seem, they’d have people watching it.  

I’d need to be fast, quiet, and—above all—careful.  

I double-checked my gear, slipping the knife into its sheath and securing it at my hip. The pistol went into the holster at my back, concealed beneath the loose hoodie I wore.  

The plan was risky, but I’d pulled off worse.  

I just had to hope my luck held out.  

--- 

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows over the city, Y/N stood by the window, her gaze fixed on the skyline. The city buzzed with life, oblivious to the chaos brewing beneath its surface.  

Her phone buzzed again, a final message from Max:  

We’re counting on you.  

She stared at the words for a moment before deleting the message.  

This wasn’t just about the Redbull family or their war with McLaren. This was about proving to herself that she could do this, that she could survive in a world where trust was a liability and weakness was a death sentence.  

She grabbed her bag, slinging it over her shoulder as she headed for the door.  

The night was just beginning, and Y/N was ready.  

--- 

The air near the docks was sharp and biting, carrying the distinct tang of salt and oil. The warehouse loomed ahead, a hulking steel giant bathed in the glow of scattered floodlights. It was the kind of place that whispered secrets into the dark—if you knew how to listen. 

Y/N crouched behind a stack of rusting shipping containers, her hood drawn low and her fingers gripping the hilt of her knife. Her breath was slow and steady, her eyes scanning the perimeter. Two guards stood by the main entrance, their postures lax, their focus minimal. A third patrolled along the side of the building, his flashlight swinging lazily. 

She smirked to herself. Amateurs. 

Sliding out from behind the container, she moved silently, her footsteps muffled by the damp ground. The side entrance was her target—an unmonitored door just outside the camera’s sweep. 

Reaching the door, she pulled a slim lock-pick from her pocket and got to work. The lock clicked open in seconds, and she slipped inside, shutting the door softly behind her. 

Inside, the air was cooler, tinged with the metallic scent of machinery. Rows of crates and pallets stretched out before her like a labyrinth, shadows dancing in the faint glow of overhead lights. 

Y/N crouched, scanning the catwalks above for movement. A guard paced slowly, his flashlight cutting arcs through the shadows. She waited, counting his steps until he turned away, then darted between the crates. 

The office was her destination, tucked into the far corner of the warehouse. Her intel said the file would be there—evidence of McLaren’s dealings with Mercedes. It was the kind of information that could shift the balance of power, and Y/N was here to claim it. 

She moved with purpose, her steps deliberate and silent. Every corner, every sound was measured and assessed, her confidence unwavering. This was her domain—the shadows, the game of cat and mouse. 

What she didn’t know was that she wasn’t alone. 

--- 

The air near the docks was cold, heavy with the tang of salt and diesel. The warehouse loomed in the distance, its steel walls glinting faintly under the glow of scattered floodlights. A symphony of muffled machinery, distant waves, and occasional footsteps filled the silence. 

Y/N crouched behind a stack of shipping containers, her figure hidden by the dark, unassuming clothes she wore—a simple black hoodie, cargo pants, and a mask that covered the lower half of her face. She’d chosen her attire carefully, ensuring that even if someone spotted her, they wouldn’t recognize her. 

Her eyes scanned the perimeter. Two guards at the main entrance, another circling the building’s side, and one stationed near the back. Predictable. Easy. 

She adjusted the strap of her bag, where her tools and a small weapon were tucked securely. This file better be worth it, Max, she thought, slipping into the shadows and toward the side entrance. 

--- 

Breaking into a place like this wasn’t new to me. 

I kept low, my movements silent as I reached the side door. The camera above it swept lazily across the area, its range limited. Timing its arc, I slipped into its blind spot and crouched by the lock. 

Pulling out my lock-picking tools, I worked quickly. The mechanism was cheap—whoever set up security here didn’t expect professionals. Within seconds, the lock clicked open, and I pushed the door ajar, slipping inside. 

The air inside was colder, the faint hum of machinery echoing through the vast space. Crates and pallets were stacked in neat rows, forming a maze that stretched out into the shadows. Overhead, metal catwalks crisscrossed the warehouse, dimly lit by flickering fluorescent lights. 

I took a slow breath, letting the shadows settle over me like a second skin. The office was on the far side of the building, a small glass box elevated on a platform. That’s where the file would be. 

--- 

I wasn’t supposed to be here. 

Oscar had flagged the warehouse as a potential weak point in our operations, so I’d decided to check it out personally. It was quiet tonight, just a skeleton crew of guards. Exactly how I liked it—quick, efficient, and private. 

From the catwalk above, I surveyed the floor, noting the layout and the guards’ routes. It all seemed routine until I spotted movement below. 

Someone darted between the crates, their figure quick and silent, dressed in black from head to toe. 

My body tensed, and my instincts kicked in. This wasn’t a worker or a guard. 

An intruder. 

I moved along the catwalk, keeping my distance as I tracked their movements. Whoever they were, they were good—calculated, confident, and precise. 

But not invisible. 

--- 

Breaking into a place like this wasn’t new to me. 

I kept low, my movements silent as I reached the side door. The camera above it swept lazily across the area, its range limited. Timing its arc, I slipped into its blind spot and crouched by the lock. 

Pulling out my lock-picking tools, I worked quickly. The mechanism was cheap—whoever set up security here didn’t expect professionals. Within seconds, the lock clicked open, and I pushed the door ajar, slipping inside. 

The air inside was colder, the faint hum of machinery echoing through the vast space. Crates and pallets were stacked in neat rows, forming a maze that stretched out into the shadows. Overhead, metal catwalks crisscrossed the warehouse, dimly lit by flickering fluorescent lights. 

I took a slow breath, letting the shadows settle over me like a second skin. The office was on the far side of the building, a small glass box elevated on a platform. That’s where the file would be. 

--- 

The office door was locked—naturally—but locks were rarely a problem for me. I slipped the pick from my pocket and crouched by the door, working quickly. 

The mechanism clicked, and I eased the door open, stepping inside and shutting it softly behind me. 

The office was cramped, cluttered with papers, folders, and a desk piled high with files. A single computer sat in the corner, its screen locked but still glowing faintly. 

I went straight for the filing cabinets, my hands moving efficiently through the drawers. Pens, invoices, shipment records—nothing useful. 

It wasn’t until I reached the second drawer that I found it: a slim folder labeled with a cryptic code that matched Max’s intel. 

I opened it briefly, my eyes scanning the contents. Negotiation notes. Shipment details. Signatures. Bingo. 

I slipped the file into my bag, zipping it closed. 

And then I heard it. 

A voice crackled over the warehouse intercom, distorted but clear: “Patrol teams to the main office. Possible intruder detected.” 

My stomach dropped. 

--- 

The faint sound of footsteps reached my ears, growing louder with every passing second. Someone was coming—several someones, by the sound of it. 

I cursed under my breath, glancing around the office. There was no back exit, no easy way out. 

I pressed myself into the shadows near the door, my hand hovering over the knife at my hip. 

Stay calm. Think. 

The door opened, and two guards stepped inside, their flashlights cutting through the dim space. 

“Boss said to double-check the office,” one of them muttered. “Could’ve sworn he saw something.” 

I stayed perfectly still, my breath shallow as they scanned the room. 

--- 

From the catwalk, I watched as the guards entered the office. 

The intruder had slipped in just moments earlier, their movements so fluid I almost admired them. Almost. 

I signaled to the guards below, pointing them toward the office. If this was a thief or a spy, they wouldn’t make it out. 

But something about this person gnawed at me. The way they moved, the confidence in their steps—it was... familiar. 

Still, I stayed silent, waiting to see how they’d handle being cornered. 

--- 

The guards moved deeper into the office, their flashlights sweeping across the room. 

Y/N waited, her body tense as they came closer. When one of them turned his back to her, she made her move. 

She struck quickly, her knife pressed against the guard’s throat before he could react. 

“Quiet,” she hissed, her voice low and distorted by the mask. “Or you won’t get a second warning.” 

The second guard froze, his flashlight dropping as he reached for his weapon. 

“Don’t,” Y/N warned, shifting her position so the first guard shielded her. 

The second guard hesitated, his hand hovering over his holster. 

Y/N shoved the first guard into him, knocking them both off balance, and darted out of the office. 

--- 

The intruder burst out of the office, moving faster than I expected. 

The guards scrambled after them, shouting warnings that echoed through the warehouse. 

I followed from above, my eyes locked on their figure as they weaved through the maze of crates. 

Whoever they were, they were good. 

Too good. 

--- 

Y/N was almost at the exit, her heart pounding as she darted between the crates. She felt it before she heard it—someone else was following her. Not the guards, whose footsteps were heavy and clumsy. This was someone quieter, faster, and far more dangerous.  

Her pulse quickened as she glanced over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of a figure descending from the catwalks above.  

Her jaw tightened. Who the hell is that?  

The figure moved with precision, cutting off her path to the side door. Y/N pivoted, ready to change direction, but he was too quick. They collided with force, the impact sending her stumbling back.  

Before she could recover, he lunged, grabbing her wrist as her knife flashed between them. 

--- 

I twisted hard, my free hand striking out as I tried to break his grip. He was strong, stronger than I expected, and every move I made was met with an equally skilled counter.  

His hand clamped around my wrist, forcing my knife away from his body.  

“Not bad,” I muttered under my breath, the words muffled by my mask.  

His eyes narrowed, his voice sharp. “Who are you?”  

I didn’t answer. Instead, I shifted my weight, kicking out hard. My boot caught him in the knee, just enough to throw him off balance.  

He stumbled but didn’t let go, his grip tightening as he spun us around.  

--- 

The intruder wasn’t just good—they were trained. Every movement was deliberate, calculated, and relentless.  

They twisted again, their knife slashing toward my side. I dodged, the blade grazing my jacket, but I managed to shove them back into the crates.  

“Who sent you?” I demanded, my voice cold.  

They didn’t respond, their masked face giving nothing away. Instead, they came at me again, their knife flashing in the dim light.  

The fight was fast and brutal, every strike and counterstrike a test of skill. I felt the sting of a cut on my forearm, but I ignored it, focusing on disarming them.  

--- 

The struggle between them was fierce, the clash of steel and the scuffle of boots on concrete echoing through the warehouse.  

Y/N fought with everything she had, her movements fluid and unrelenting. Lando countered with equal ferocity, his instincts honed from years of experience.  

A crate toppled over as Y/N spun, using the environment to her advantage. She lunged, her knife slicing close enough to tear through the fabric of Lando’s shirt.  

He retaliated, his fist catching her shoulder and sending her stumbling back.  

Both of them were breathing hard now, blood staining their clothes from small but deliberate wounds.  

--- 

I had to end this. 

It wasn’t just some guard. I’d realized that the moment he blocked my first strike with precision that no hired muscle could manage. This was Lando. 

His movements were sharp, efficient, and damn near impossible to counter. Every step I took, every calculated strike, was met with an equally brutal response. He wasn’t trying to subdue me—he was trying to figure out who I was. 

That couldn’t happen. 

My mind raced, adrenaline pounding through me as I reassessed. Lando wasn’t a target, and fighting him wasn’t part of the plan. He wasn’t supposed to be here. 

I needed to move. To escape. 

I feinted left, drawing his attention with a quick flick of my knife. His body shifted instinctively to block, and that was all the opening I needed. Twisting hard, I wrenched myself free of his grip, my feet already moving as I slipped around him. 

For a split second, I hesitated. 

My instincts screamed at me to press the attack, to strike before he could recover. But this wasn’t about taking him down. It was about getting out—alive and unidentified. 

There wasn’t time. 

--- 

Lando cursed, his hand flying out to grab her, but she was already gone, darting between the crates with a speed that left him no time to react.  

Y/N moved like a shadow, her figure barely visible as she disappeared into the maze of the warehouse.  

The guards, alerted by the commotion, converged on her position, their flashlights cutting through the darkness.  

She didn’t slow.  

With calculated precision, she took them down one by one—an elbow to the temple here, a sweep of the leg there. Each move was efficient and brutal, leaving the guards sprawled on the ground as she made her way to the exit.  

By the time she burst through the side door and into the night, her breaths were coming fast and ragged.  

--- 

I reached the exit just in time to see the intruder vanish into the shadows.  

My side ached, and my arm was slick with blood from the cut they’d landed, but that wasn’t what bothered me most.  

Whoever they were, they weren’t just some random thief. They’d known exactly what they were doing, and they’d been after something specific.  

As I stared into the darkness, one thought echoed in my mind.  

Who the hell are you?  

--- 

The docks were silent by the time Y/N made it to the drop-off point. Tucked away between two abandoned warehouses, the location was as unassuming as it was isolated.  

She crouched near a rusted steel container, her movements deliberate as she pulled the file from her bag. The sharp pain in her arm flared as she moved, but she gritted her teeth and ignored it.  

Placing the file into the secure lockbox Max had described, she stood and glanced around once more. The faint glow of streetlights in the distance cast eerie shadows across the empty lot.  

No loose ends.  

With the mission complete, Y/N melted into the shadows, vanishing into the night.  

--- 

The McLaren estate was as grand as ever, its sprawling grounds meticulously maintained, and the air buzzing with the quiet efficiency of the staff. Y/N arrived mid-morning, her steps light but her mind heavy.  

She’d wrapped her injured arm carefully, the white bandage hidden beneath the sleeve of a fitted leather jacket. Though the cut wasn’t deep, it was obvious enough to draw attention if someone looked too closely.  

And Lando always looked too closely.  

As she entered the main hall, she spotted him at the far end, leaning against a marble counter in conversation with Oscar. He looked as composed as ever, his signature curls slightly disheveled, a cup of coffee in one hand.  

The sight of him brought back the previous night in an instant—the fight, the way he’d moved, the close call.  

But he didn’t know.  

He couldn’t.  

Y/N squared her shoulders and approached, her usual confidence firmly in place.  

--- 

I noticed her the moment she walked in.  

Y/N had a way of commanding attention without trying—her confidence, the way she moved, like she belonged wherever she chose to be.  

But today, something was different.  

She was holding herself a little too carefully, her posture stiff in a way that most people wouldn’t catch. And then there was her arm.  

The faint bulge of a bandage beneath her jacket sleeve didn’t escape my notice.  

My eyes narrowed slightly as she reached us, a faint smirk playing on her lips.  

“Morning, boys,” she said, her tone casual as she leaned against the counter beside Oscar.  

“You’re in a good mood,” Oscar said, raising a brow.  

“Why wouldn’t I be?” she replied smoothly.  

--- 

Lando’s gaze lingered on her arm, his mind racing. He didn’t ask about it immediately—he knew Y/N well enough to know she wouldn’t give him a straight answer.  

But something about the timing was off.  

The night before, a skilled intruder had broken into one of McLaren’s key warehouses. The guards’ reports had been vague, but Lando didn’t need details to know whoever it was had been dangerous.  

And now Y/N shows up with a freshly bandaged arm?  

It didn’t sit right.  

“Everything okay?” Lando asked casually, his tone light but probing.  

“Never better,” Y/N said, her smirk widening as she met his gaze.  

He didn’t look away, his eyes darkening as suspicion took root.  

“Funny,” he said after a pause. “I heard there was some trouble at the docks last night.”  

Y/N’s smirk faltered for the briefest moment before she recovered, her laugh light and dismissive. “Trouble at the docks? Sounds like your security needs an upgrade.”  

Lando didn’t respond immediately, his gaze flicking to her arm again.  

“What happened to your arm?” he asked, his voice sharper now.  

--- 

My chest tightened, but I didn’t let it show.  

“Cut myself,” I said easily, gesturing vaguely. “Kitchen accident. You know, knives can be tricky.”  

Lando didn’t look convinced.  

His dark eyes locked onto mine, the intensity in his gaze making my stomach churn. For a moment, I thought he might press further, might connect the dots right there and then.  

But instead, he leaned back, his smirk returning, though it didn’t reach his eyes.  

“Be careful,” he said, his tone deceptively smooth. “Wouldn’t want you getting hurt again.”  

His words felt like a challenge, and I forced myself to meet his gaze without flinching.  

“I’ll try,” I replied, my voice steady despite the tension simmering between us.  

--- 

As Y/N turned to leave, Lando watched her go, his mind racing.  

The timing of her injury, the break-in, and her evasiveness didn’t feel like a coincidence.  

He tapped his fingers against the counter, his jaw tightening as he considered the implications.  

If it was her...  

His thoughts were interrupted by Oscar, who spoke quietly. “Something doesn’t add up, does it?”  

“No,” Lando said, his voice low.  

And not for the first time, doubt crept into his mind—not just about Y/N’s story, but about who she really was.  

To be continued... 

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Series Taglist: @laptime-deleted, @planet-faerie, @iloveotters11, @anamiad00msday

LN4 Taglist: @esserenorris, @tallrock35, @yourbane, @lightdragonrayne, @really-fucking-tired, @evie-119, @ilivbullyingjeongin, @ggaslyp1, @icecoldtires, @cmleitora, @cheyennep3107, @d3kstar, @fadingcloudballoon-blog, @same1995, @hinamesgigantica, @laptime-deleted, @planet-faerie, @iloveotters11. @anamiad00msday

[crumb]

please tell me you guys watched that video Noah Schnapp put out trying to backtrack and save his pathetic career. Please listen very carefully to the language and words he uses. He's choosing his wording VERY carefully in order to save his career and try to pacify those who support Palestine without actually denouncing genocide or zionism. "I feel my thoughts and beliefs have been so far misconstrued..." babe you were yelling from ig post to ig post about being pro israel, calling Palestinians terrorists, and being a proud zionist. How has that been misconstrued?? "I only want peace and safety and security for all innocent people affected by this conflict" He makes sure to use the qualifier 'innocent' several times in the video when referring to Palestinians, victims of a genocide not a conflict. But as we know, zionists don't see Palestinians as innocent so who is he talking about? This kind of tentative language helps him try to appear like he actually cares about Palestine while still condemning hamas without addressing the actual root of the issue—israel and the IOF. "We all hope for the same things..." Do we? You're a zionist. Zionism is settler colonialism and based in white supremacy. Please be more specific on what you hope for. "...That being, those innocent people being held hostage in Gaza be returned to their families. And equally hope for an end to the loss of innocent life in Palestine..." Zionists LOVE to go on and on about the hostages without mentioning the very real danger those hostages face from israel and the IOF bombs themselves. Israel is carpet bombing Palestine indiscriminately when they very much have the tech to make extremely detailed and targeted attacks. Did you see the way they targeted the specific apartment unit in Lebanon? In Gaza they're wiping out whole city blocks. Israel and the IOF don't actually care about the hostages. If they did they wouldn't be razing Gaza and boasting about their plans to use the land for beach condos. If israel and the IOF actually cared about israelis, why are they basically using the Hannibal Directive? Especially at the music festival on October 7th where the IOF killed a number of their own civilians. If israel cared about the hostages, why aren't they willing to release the hundreds of Palestinian hostages they have who are being jailed illegally and without charges? 'oh but they did! They released some during the pause so they could get hamas to release some israeli hostages' yeah and then the IOF rounded up and captured more Palestinians than they released that very same day. "...I think anyone with any ounce of humanity would hope for an end to the hostility on both sides. I stand against any killing of any innocent people" Once again with the manipulative qualifiers 'both sides' and 'innocent people'. How can you expect an occupied people who have been living through apartheid and genocide for 75 years to not eventually fight back? To not understand why October 7th happened you have to be either completely uneducated about even the most basic history of Palestine and/or so deeply entrenched in propaganda and denial that it doesn't even matter if you do know about the history because you truly believe you deserve an ethnostate on a piece of land that has inhabited several diverse groups over thousands of years. It was never a land of 1 singular homogeneous group. To want it to be that, is actually insane.

[purpleyellow]

house hunting

nct dream 8th member - bee

masterlist

“the dorm days are over”

a/n: Feel free to share your thoughts with me💛 Requests are open for Bee and Hayun!

Living in the dorms was such a constant part of Bee’s life. It didn’t matter if they had back-to-back comebacks, solo activities, or even if the unit was on break, they always had a home to return to. Especially as someone who needed her own space, Bee had the room she had turned into her own little safe space over time, and she was not ready to say goodbye.

When the boys suddenly began discussing moving out into their own homes, she wasn’t the most thrilled about it, simply because she couldn’t imagine herself going through the decision-making process of visiting and picking an apartment for herself, and on top of that, having to go through all the moving work and trying to make another place feel like her own.

“I just think we live in a good apartment, and there isn’t much reason to try and change that” She calmly discussed one morning, while Jaemin cooked breakfast for the both of them.

“Well, technically this apartment isn’t ours, and if the owner wants to kick us out anytime, he’s fully capable of doing so. It’s the most reasonable thing to do. Individually, each of us can already afford to buy a condo, which in the future can become an investment, not to say it would be much more comfortable to live in a place you picked yourself. Not everyone who is our age can do that, I think it would be a waste of an opportunity to not go for it”

“I don’t think I would be comfortable living by myself. In fact, I would probably be a hazard to my own life” Holding onto the one thing he said that she disagreed with, Bee tried to make a point, though she knew Jaemin was probably right about the whole thing.

“Well, you don’t have to be by yourself. I don’t think all of us will move out to be alone, Renjun was thinking about sharing a place if anyone was up for it, you could go with him” The boy shrugged, unfazed by her arguing.

“So you’re telling me your plan is to just leave me out here alone and move out without bringing me along. You know I’m going to starve, don’t you?” Crossing her arms, Bee tilted her head as she noticed the small grin on his face.

“Maybe it’s time for you to do an online cooking course or something. The future I imagine only involves me, a bunch of cats, and a big ass couch”

Sighing, Bee rolled her eyes and dropped the subject with him, but she couldn’t stop thinking about it as the day went on. When she dropped by the studio during one of her breaks, the girl couldn’t help but complain to the 127 members around.

“It’s all your fault for dropping the dorm life and going into your own houses, now the boys think we need to do the same just because we have money” Jungwoo and Doyoung frowned, turning their attention to her, while Mark only laughed and squeezed her sides.

“Well, I didn’t go to my place just because I could afford it, you know. It was more of an investment rather than just blowing money for the sake of it” Doyoung chuckled at her rolling her eyes while he explained himself.

“Even if it’s just to flex, it’s a lot more comfortable living by your rules, it even makes our group moments more enjoyable since we’re not together all the time” Jungwoo shrugged and got up as the producer signalized for him to go into the booth

“And let’s be honest, the company doesn’t spend as much as we can on giving us a nice rental. You should come to check out the gym area in the condo I’m living in. Also, sharing a place with fewer people is a lot nicer than five dudes at once, sorry guys”

“Don’t be, our dorm was a mess, I don’t miss it either” Doyoung and Mark laughed reminiscing, while Bee readjusted herself on the couch the three were seated on. Hugging one leg, she groaned and rested her head on top of her knee.

“I don’t want to go out house hunting, having to face all my finances and the options, and deal with all that moving adult stuff”

“Just move in with me then” Mark casually stated, making a chill travel up Bee’s spine as she froze up. Chocking on air, Doyoung quickly got up and headed for the door, mumbling “I think someone’s calling me outside”

“What?” The boy giggled, confused at everyone’s sudden change of mood.

“I can’t just move in with you” Bee whispered, and thankfully to her, the producer ignored their conversation and kept going with Jungwoo’s recording.

“Why not? It would be so convenient, you wouldn’t have to choose a place, everything’s pretty much already figured out with electronics and utensils and all that adult crap, plus you’re used to being there already”

Rendered speechless, Bee thought for a minute before gasping “What about the fans?”

“What about them?” Mark smiled affectionately before turning serious and counting on his fingers, “Well, first, they don’t need to know we’ll be living together. Second, what’s so different between you sharing dorms with the boys, to sharing an apartment with me”

“You know very well the difference” The girl spoke the obvious, making him shrug.

“So, if that classified information happened to leak, we can just say we each have our separate rooms” Deciding to let go of his tensed-up girlfriend, Mark gave her a side hug and a kiss on the side of the head “Just think about it, okay? There’s no pressure to say yes, though I think it would be a nice option for you, and I would be happy if you agreed to. But also, I’m the happiest when you are, so take your time deciding”

Despite Mark giving her as much time as she needed, everyone else seemed to be moving at a lot faster pace. In just a few days, Bee was touring apartments with Renjun and Jisung, both of whom were open to being roommates for the time being.

“This one is actually really nice” Renjun commented while going through the kitchen. The real estate agent that came with them was just by the door getting a phone call, or at least pretending to, while letting the three idols talk about their last stop for the day.

“I think so too, the bedrooms and the living room are all pretty large” Jisung nodded, looking into the hallway “The only downside to it, it’s that there are only three rooms, but I’m willing to put that aside for the quality of the apartment”

“We wouldn’t be able to have guests, though. The boys would be fine since we’re used to sharing rooms and stuff. Although I don’t know about Renjun, if my parents came over from overseas I’d like to welcome them into my house”

“That’s what I was thinking too” Renjun sighed, leaning against the kitchen sink, “Having somewhere my family could stay and visit freely would be ideal”

“Still, this place is amazing” Bee looked around again, and the boys agreed with dreamy “Yes” “It really is”

“I think we should reflect, and just consider if we should go for it,” Renjun thought out loud just as the real estate agent stepped back into the conversation.

“About that, if you would like to keep this place, I suggest you decide as soon as possible. I know it’s not ideal, but there are more people interested, and the most I can guarantee you it’s until tomorrow night”

Feeling like their little bubbles had just cracked, the three thanked him and assured him they would keep in touch until the deadline.

Going down the elevator, Bee thought through about how everything could be slowly turning into place without her noticing it, and it seemed to her that there was one way of satisfying everyone’s wishes, which made it look easier to take the next step in her relationship with Mark.

“I kind of wish we hadn’t visited this one because it would make that one with four bedrooms from earlier a lot nicer looking” Jisung sighed as they crowded inside a taxi.

“Well, if we decide to not keep this one, we’ll have more time to look for another apartment that we like better” Renjun looked out of the window contemplating their options.

“Would you guys still go for this last one if I decided to step out?” Bee questioned from the middle, looking from side to side to watch their reactions.

Jisung frowned at her confused, while Renjun scoffed, “Yunhee, weren’t you the one begging us not to be left alone? Don’t panic yet, we can find a place that’ll fit all of us”

“I know we can, I’m just considering my options as you said. So like, if I were to take on another offer, it would solve the missing bedroom problem. Would you guys still want to keep this last apartment?”

“Is this a trick question?” Jisung asked exasperated.

“I’m being serious Jisungie, I was already considering this other thing before today, and know that there’s a place that would be great for you two, I’m almost certain you should take it without me”

“What the hell other offer is that? Can you just be open to us” Renjun groaned annoyed, and the girl shrugged, trying to sound casual to check for their reactions. “Mark asked if I wanted to move in with him”

Gasping, Jisung stared at her with judging eyes, “And you spent an entire day house-hunting with us after your boyfriend invited you to share an apartment with him?”

“He told me I could think about it” Bee mumbled at his outburst, though she was more worried about Renjun’s silence than the youngest’s annoyance. “Oppa, so what are you thinking?”

“That solves everything, doesn’t it?” Renjun smiled optimistically. “I’m kind of not ready to live with one less person, but still, everything would work out”

“It would. When we get home, I’ll confirm with Mark that everything is okay with him, and you guys can call the agent tomorrow morning”

“No need to worry, I’m calling him right now” Jisung beamed from her side just as his phone picked up the call “Mark Hyung, great news for me, not so great for you. Bee agrees to move in with you”

Just as the girl gets ready to punch Jisung’s arm, she listens to Mark’s excited “Really? Holy shit” and that makes her certain she made the right call.

[nhlclover]

𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍' 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 | 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐖 𝐊𝐍𝐈𝐄𝐒

summary: the morning after with your boyfriend

warnings: some semi-nsfw content, sexual themes, mentions of sex

note: this became a lot more sexual than i intended lol but i actually love this one and i love him.

word count: 0.7k

There wasn’t anything much better than waking up in the same bed as my boyfriend. Our work schedules often conflicted, with me working long and odd hours and him being out of town so often, so we jumped at the rare opportunities we could spend with one another. Following the Leafs' win last night, we wasted no time in getting back to Matthew's apartment, our clothing being discarded not long after the front door had shut.

When I awoke in the morning, I was tangled in Matthew’s cotton sheets. I reached around for him, but only felt the mattress. I opened my eyes, finding him on the other side of the bed. Matthew was lying on his stomach, one arm draped over the edge of the bed. The morning sun beamed through the windows in his condo that he refused to buy curtains for because “we’re so high up no one can see us anyways”. The sun hit his unclothed back, making his skin seem a shade of pure gold.

I leaned over, tracing his toned back softly with my nails. He didn’t even stir. The idea popped into my head quickly, sliding out from under the sheets, grabbing Matthew’s shirt from atop the dresser that I had removed and flung across the room last night. I slipped out of the room, softly shutting the door behind me.

I went to the kitchen, pulling out the frying pan and pancake mix from the cabinet. I scavenged his pantry and fridge for toppings to add to the pancakes. He had chocolate chips but little fruit so I had to improvise by using frozen fruit typically used for smoothies. I mixed together the batter, decorating each individual pancake with some toppings.

“Is that my shirt?”

I jumped at the sound of Matthew's morning voice coming from behind me. I turned around, seeing him leaning against the counter. He now donned a pair of loose-fitting boxers that hung low on his hips, exposing his v-line and happy trail that I remembered tracing the night before.

“First item of clothing I saw.” I shrugged, turning back around and flipping the pancake in the pan. “Somebody tore my shit off when we were in the living room.”

Matthew looked to the couch where, in fact, my white jeans and the Knies Maple Leafs jersey sat discarded. He chuckles, his laugh coming out gravely. I hear his bare feet padding across the floor, getting closer to me until I feel his arms rope around my waist, pressing soft kisses into my jaw. I tilt my head away, giving him better access. He chuckles again, his laugh vibrating against my skin.

Matthew pulls me away from the stove, turning me in his arms to face him. He leaned down, softly connecting our lips. His lips are just as warm as the morning sun that was beating down on the city of Toronto. He snaked his hands down to my legs, picked me up off the ground and walked me to the island, placing me on it. Matthew's shirt had ridden up on me, coming above my hips so my bare legs were sat against the cool granite countertops.

He looks down, seeing that I had on no pants and instead the same white lace underwear that led to the discarded clothing the night before. He groaned, leaning his head back and smiling. I slowly let my legs spread a little wider, intentionally teasing him.

“Are you trying to turn me on right now? Cause' it's working.” He says, his hands gripping my thighs. I giggle, his thumbs now tracing uneven circles into the inside of my thighs.

“How about round two?” He asks in a low voice.

I lean forward, nearing my lips to his before hopping off the counter and pushing past him to the stove. “After, because you’ve just caused my pancake to burn.” I say, taking the spatula and scraping away at the well-overcooked pancake on the pan.

“You are an incredible tease.” He says.

I snort at him. “You better get to work on frying the bacon or else no second round.” I warn.

He laughs and shakes his head in disbelief, a small smirk toying at his lips. He passes behind me, slapping my ass on the way by.

“Yes ma’am.” He says, getting the bacon from the fridge.

[doberbutts]

I just want to thank you for your response with landlords. It’s impossible to talk about on here, but so many people talk about being a landlord as if it’s an immediate black mark on your character, and not just…. Something someone can do. Exploitation can come on an individual level, but it’s more common from companies owning property, and rentals will need to exist. I usually work somewhere for a year or two, and then move on, because I love seeing new places, but this would be impossible without renting. I just appreciate you having a level head about it.

I think individuals more than have the capacity to exploit their tenants, don't get me wrong. I just... "is a landlord" is a neutral statement to me. As I said before, unless the way housing and short term rentals work changes overnight, we are going to continue to need people to manage rental properties. That's a landlord. Whether that's the owner of a hotel or inn, or the owner of an apartment or condo or rental house, someone needs to manage the property while other people live inside.

There is a reason innkeepers used to be called landlords too, after all. And also why the same sleezy complaints were made about them as well. Short term housing is hideously easy to use to take advantage of people because most of the time the majority of your customers are desperate and don't have much of a choice.

But is a landlord automatically a bad person? I don't think any vocation automatically makes you a bad person. I think that depends entirely on your actions. bell hooks was a landlord. OK. So was she a slumlord taking advantage of her tenants, or was she a decent property manager with liveable rates? That answer is missing from the equation, and usually people just focus on the first bit. But that doesn't really tell me anything.

[posttexasstressdisorder]

The GOP’s 43-year tax-cuts-for-billionaires-while-we-ignore-the-needs-of-the-country grift has an analogy in condos and homes across America that might help voters understand how it works and how they’ve gotten away with it.

Fully 84 percent of all homes and apartments built and sold in 2022 came with a homeowner’s association (HOA), and an estimated 27 percent of all homeowners nationwide currently live in a property controlled by an HOA.

And many are very unhappy about the experience.

According to a survey by Rocket Mortgage, only 47 percent of HOA residents think their HOA has made their community better, only two-thirds (64%) believe their HOA “honestly handles its finances,” and one in ten people nationwide who have an HOA cite the HOA itself as their main reason for moving.

How and why is this?

Louise and I have lived in five communities with HOAs in two different states. Three (including where we now live) were well managed, kept up the community, and set aside money from the dues every month for the inevitable future maintenance. I was on the board of one of them. The other two ran, essentially, a shell game or reverse Ponzi scheme, which led us to eventually quit those communities and move.

READ: Deep-red 'Republican stronghold' thought to be 'easy win for Trump' is now a swing state

I remember attending a board meeting in one of those “shell game” HOA communities we’d lived in. There were multiple common-area maintenance issues needing attention, but a group who called themselves “low-tax conservatives” had run the board for over a twenty years.

There was almost nothing in reserves, so maintenance had been continuously postponed until things hit a crisis level. Then they’d hit us all with a series of “special one-time assessments” ranging from a few hundred to a few thousand dollars to pay for the upkeep. They refused to raise the monthly HOA fee, referring to it as a tax, because, they said, they were “low-tax conservatives”; in fact, they were just cheapskates.

That HOA board had been, in the past and the present, stealing from future homeowners.

They did it so they could enjoy the community during the first 30 or so years — when maintenance costs were minimal — without setting aside money for the future, when things would rot or wear out and need replacement or upgrade.

For the first three decades, they were able to coast with $200/month in dues and no assessments; by the time we arrived when the units were pushing 35 years old, though, the assessments were hitting $3000 to $9000 a year, and, when the buildings’ roofs need repair (soon) it’ll be twice that amount or more.

Fortunately, once we saw the handwriting on that particular wall we were able to sell our condo and move to a well-run community. Americans, though, don’t have that option: Republicans have been running this same shell game or reverse Ponzi scheme against all of us (except the very rich) across the entire country ever since Reagan successfully pitched trickle-down economics to the nation in 1981.

If you’ve ever lived in one of these shell game HOA’s, you now perfectly understand Reaganomics and why it seems that America has deteriorated so badly over the past 40 years.

You could call it the disaster of pothole economics: all across America, roads, bridges, water systems, schools, and other vital public infrastructure have been underfunded and neglected ever since Reagan popularized the idea of “austerity” among Republicans.

In order to pay for the second most massive tax cut for the morbidly rich in history (Reagan cut the top tax bracket from 74% down to 25%), his administration cut spending on education, housing, roads and bridges, and pretty much every other aspect of America’s infrastructure. George W. Bush did the same thing, and Donald Trump tripled down on the scheme.

The result was a $51 trillion transfer of wealth — over a mere forty-three years — from the homes, retirement accounts, and savings of average working families into the money bins of the extremely wealthy. Thirty-four trillion of that transfer show up as our national debt, which was a mere $800 billion ($0.8 trillion) when Reagan first came into office and started this scam.

President Joe Biden and his Vice President, Kamala Harris, ran the first administration of either party to significantly repudiate Reagan’s neoliberalism by injecting trillions into rebuilding our nation (over 35,000 projects) while raising taxes on rich people and corporations to pay for it.

The result was immediately visible, just like in the 1940s, 1950s, and 1960s: we now have the best economy on planet Earth with unemployment lower than any time since the 1960s (and lower than any time in history for women, Blacks, and Hispanics). Inflation has been at or below 0% for the past two months and is annually running around 3% (Reagan never got inflation below 4.1% in his entire 8 years); all across America we’re putting our rural areas, towns, and cities back together.

For the past forty years, Republicans and their administrations have focused almost entirely on taking cash away from working class people and handing it off to the billionaires who own and finance their party. At the top of the list of ways they did this was a series of five tax cuts for the morbidly rich and big corporations adding up to over $30 trillion since 1981.

But they’ve also been cutting spending to compensate for their tax breaks for the billionaire class: They blocked extending the child tax credit this year, throwing millions of American children back into poverty. They’ve fought lifting the cap on Social Security taxes so people making over $168,600 will begin paying on all of their income (millionaires and billionaires currently pay only a tiny fraction of the percentage to support Social Security that the rest of us do).

Fully 100% of congressional Republicans voted against Biden’s Build Back Better program that’s now putting America back together and his American Rescue Plan that lifted millions out of poverty and put millions more back to work. They successfully blocked the Paycheck Fairness Act that would have penalized employers for wage discrimination based on gender; they’ve refused to expand Medicaid in almost a dozen Red states; they even filibustered an attempt to raise the minimum wage from $7.25 to $10.10.

For the past forty-plus years, Republicans — just like these dysfunctional HOAs — have been stealing from America’s future; our infrastructure deficit alone is several trillion dollars, meaning Americans will be paying more in taxes to make up for all those decades of neglect.

Democrats want those tax increases to hit people earning over $400,000 a year; Republican tax proposals, on the other hand, mostly focus on increasing income taxes and fees on working class people while continuing or even expanding tax breaks for the very wealthy.

One of the “low tax” HOAs we used to live in, instead of raising their monthly fee or instituting an assessment, recently negotiated a million-dollar-plus 20-year loan with people’s properties as the collateral to fund painting and repairing serious rot on the buildings.

This should have been paid for with an increase in HOA fees twenty years ago, anticipating the future maintenance and upkeep needs.

But instead they kept the fee low, never built up a reserve, and are now borrowing from the bank. In other words, they’re continuing the all-too-common HOA board scam of requiring future generations to pay for current repairs, just like the GOP budget proposals we’ll see when they return from summer vacation in September will require future generations to pay for their past tax cuts.

It’s the equivalent of Reagan, Bush, and Trump jacking up the national debt to keep things glued together, forcing future generations to pay it off when the bill comes due, while their wealthy corporate funders rob us blind.

Homeowners across America are waking up to these toxic HOA boards, as social media sites for HOA members are forming and local homeowner uprisings are happening against boards, either replacing the board members or, in some cases, even suing them. Some states are even starting to require they build up reserves for future maintenance.

Hopefully, Americans will realize how successfully Republicans have inflicted this very same scam on voters and working class people over the past forty-plus years and vote the bums out this fall.

ALSO READ: Mike Johnson's now-deleted Trump social media post sparks controversy

[silvershiningtarot]

🍾🍾PAC: Where Will You Meet Your Future Husband? 🍾🍾🍾❤️

Disclaimer: 18+ mature and minors as well. But this is a general reading. This is my last reading for now. I hope you guys enjoy it. I'll be back very soon. But this is my last reading for now. These are only three piles. Take what resonates and what doesn't. Use your intuition. Feel the pictures. I'll be putting the pictures on the bottom of each pile.

Pile 1: You might be meeting your husband where you are in the bathroom. Not naked I don't sense that. But maybe, when you are coming out of the shower they are just waiting for you in the living room. I believe that for some of you. Few of you, I sense that you were just coming back from the beauty salon. You see your husband just sitting there in the living room. I had a vision, you just walk into your house or apartment or condo and you see some guy just sitting there with their head down, and you are all shocked as hell. What the fuck is this guy sitting on my couch and how did they get in my house. I think one of your friends might know them or your roommate might introduce you to your husband. You all like the fuck! Weird. But the second you look at them, you are so stunned by their beauty. I can tell your husband looks fucking beautiful. Or should I say? FUCKING FINE! Woo 😯 your husband is drop-dead gorgeous. Damn! They are fine. Anyways, they stood up and they just froze because they were just shocked to see you too. I can tell that you two aren't going to talk for a second because you both will look into each other eyes for a minute. I can see someone or your roommate, snapping their fingers in your face or waving their hand in your face 😂 “Hello, girl are you there?” I sense your husband is tall but not like giant tall but tall. I can see that it might be morning time you'll meet them. Around 11:00 am or 11:30 a.m. That's what time I feel like. But you are stunned by your husband. I heard you say “Wow.” haha 😂 the second you looked at them you are crushing on them. I keep seeing that vision in my head. I can see it clear as day. You'll be stunned by them. They look fuccin good. For some of you, I have a sense that you'll be meeting them while you are in the bathroom naked. They aren't doing it on purpose maybe, they had to use the bathroom and they didn't know that you were in there. I see them coming in the bathroom and you scream 🙀 and they shut the door fast. But they are thinking about you, especially when they see you. Lol 😆 wow 😮 these are pictures that came out for you. Use your intuition and tell me what do you think of it?

Pile 2: Okay, Pile 2. It seems that you might meet your husband where are in a dark place or should I say? Getting out of a dark place. I think once you delve deeper into yourself. You start to realize a lot of your reflections on life and you start finding your peace. What doesn't serve you no longer? I heard “cutting off.” Maybe, you are cutting people, friends, families, old crushes, jobs, etc. Whatever that is you are finally deciding for yourself to find your peace. For some of you, again! You might meet your husband in a living room. Okay, I am kinda seeing the same vision I had just seen in pile 1. But okay, maybe, it will be a family gathering. Like a party. I see this big ass party now. It was at night and you know you dressed all fancy looking and maybe, you got a higher promotion at your job or you just brought your family together. I am seeing everyone wear all gold. Not your husband though! They are wearing a suit but it is a black and white suit. But man! They look good too. You drift yourself away from the party and so you see this guy just sitting there by their self and you know just on their phone. You walk up to them with your champagne glass🍾 in your hand and ask them “Hey, you okay?” I am picking up a vibe from them it seems like they didn't want to be bothered at first. But once they pick their head up at you. I do them turning there phone over and just looking at you. I see you asking them “May I sit.?” they all say “Of course,” clearing their throat. Haha, “Wow, this is a nice party.” “Yeah, it's a family tradition way.” you two will make conversation. All night just talking. You see that they are making you laugh all night. I see them having shades on. I don't think your husband likes to show their eyes like that. But man, they look handsome with their suit on. I don’t know who invited them. Maybe, one of your family members knows your husband. Huh? Okay, for a Few Of You, I see that you will be going to an amusement park. I see that you taking your nieces or nephews to the park or your child. But wow 😮 I can see it happening. Your husband is by those water guns. I forgot what you call those games but you win a teddy bear or some shit like that. If y'all know it then cool! But anyway, I have a sense that your husband will catch you first. Like a glimpse of you. When you are walking around with your nephew. I can see your husband just looking at you. They can't take their eyes off you. Maybe, your husband is a daughter. Like a child. Haha 😂 oh my goodness, I can see their daughter tapping them like “Daddy, Daddy.” wow haha, it is like their soul left their body just when they glimpse at you. Oh my goodness, I think they were trying to find you all day. Until they saw you sitting down eating. They just walk up to you. Wow, they are brave as fuck! Good for them. Lol anyways, this is the picture. Tell me what you think Pile 2 😘😘😂

Pile 3: wow, pile 3 seems a bit more interesting. Okay, you might meet your husband at the gym some of you. Where you are working out. Riding those bicycles they sat next to you. Oh! You might be creeped off by them. Because they just staring at you. Haha, I see you saying “Can I help you?” aww, they just put their head down. You might feel bad for a second because you know that was rude. I don't think they can help it because they just stare at people. Just for no reason. Your husband is the type to keep themselves. They don't socialize as much. So anyway, you'll feel bad and apologize to them “I am sorry, I just felt creepy.” “It is okay, my bad. It just happens and I couldn't help myself by looking at you. You are so beautiful.” I can see you blush ☺️ like Omg. You might invite them out for coffee. Or brunch. For a few of you, I am seeing two visions where you might meet your husband. At a factory or the zoo. So I think you might go to the zoo and see them there with their friends or like other relatives. You'll be looking at the giraffe 🦒 and I had a vision, you were looking at the giraffe, and then all of sudden you just got caught up in their conversation. You started looking at your husband because of their laugh. Maybe, they have a geeky kind of laugh. I heard “loud.” your husband's laugh is fuccin loud. You started laughing and then, they stared at you and I just saw you turn around so fast. Aww, I think you might get embarrassed 😊. But I see them smiling. I see them walking up to you but they were chasing after you, just to catch up with you. “Excuse Me, Miss.” Wow, they seem such polite. You two just look at each other. But I feel that your husband will initiate the conversation first. “HI, .… I just saw you and I couldn't help myself by coming over to you.” aww, I just saw that in my vision just now.” then I saw you guys talking all day until nighttime. Damn! Your husband just completely ignores their relative they just left them. I didn't their relatives being like a child I saw them as an adult. But the point is they just talking to you. The next day, you showed up where they work at. You didn't know your husband was working at a factory but you just showed up. I can see one of their co-workers pointing you out and they just looked up and saw you. They just completely stop their work to just talk to you. Aww, isn't that so beautiful? They might be a little dirty like their hands 🙌🏽. Or they might work at a toy factory. So either way they are working. Here's your picture that came out for this Pile 3. Tell me what you think of it. Trust your intuition. Take what resonates and what doesn't.

This is my last reading for now. I'll be taking a break from Tumblr. Sorry 💔 boo’s don't worry! I'll be back. Anyways. Enjoy your reading. Reblog this post and like it!!!! If you want a paid reading you'll know where to find me.

https://www.instagram.com/silvershiningtarot25/

[affluent-havoc]

Togami Time! Byakuya Time works too but I like the alliteration of the first. Spoilers ahead of course!

For Byakuya's casual attire, I gave him that very standard rich man polo. I did spice it up a bit with a black, fairly slick turtleneck underneath that hugs his body. I decided to also have his polo tucked in for extra style points along with the addition of the belt. I like giving this man belts after all. Unless he's in his fancy pajamas, he's wearing a belt the majority of the time! And, of course, his clothes, though a bit basic in a way, cost a lot of money. Sorta honed slight bits from his bad ending attire oddly enough. It wasn't much but just that sorta sporty look in a way. I dunno what the jacket he wore would be called but it gives me slight sporty vibes. Thus, Byakuya's giving off some flamboyant golfer energy which, to be fair, he probably knows how to golf for the most part. For his business attire, I initially drew a more elaborate design (no worries. it'll be seen at some point!!) though I toned it down a lot more for work. He may be fashionable but he's also a man of practicality in many regards. Thus, he's got a pocket watch and a basic suit with some flairs. Specifically, I gave him some emerald colored brooches in his hair and on his tie, hinting back to how he likes the Scarab Brooch in game. After all, with age, I feel the main facets of his interests wouldn't change. The guy is still into those dark academia type stuff. Also, the gold elbow pads are just cus. I dunno. They might be a bit much but I felt a bit bad for just putting him in a suit at the same time! Some other bits I wish to mention about his business attire is that, though he does wear this for work, for my future AU, I see him working a lot at home as well! He's still quite involved with the Togami Conglomerate, but he's found a nice balance where he only needs to travel to other countries sometimes, not the majority. Byakuya deserves a break after all the stuff he went through both pre-tragedy, during the tragedy, and the clean up post-tragedy. That clean up is still occurring still (it's about a decade after dr3/the anime) so there's still work to be done. Byakuya has a bit less to do with the whole "helping to rebuild the economy thing" though since I like to think that, with his influence, he helps with that. Back to his work though, he mostly does this in a designated office area in his condo. He also does this in his mansion sometimes though crashes out into some of the other's places to work as well or just because he can. Speaking of that, though he does live in his condo, he likes to roam a lot and sometimes ends up staying over with the others. It started out as a one time deal before it slowly became the thing he does. His primary targets are Kyoko and Makoto in their apartment and Toko and Komaru in theirs. He does go to Hiro's place as well though to "make sure the idiot isn't causing trouble" and he also goes to Hina's too though less than Hiro's. He'd mostly just be in Toko and Komaru's place if he wanted to check up on Hina cus, though they are friends, the two still like to butt heads. Plus, in this AU, Hina doesn't even live that far away from Toko and Komaru anyway. I headcanon that they all live fairly close from one another cus they all still like spending time together. Thus, thems the rules in this AU. However, despite this man's resilience to not stay at his own damn condo, he's not mooching off of any of them... for the most part. He makes sure to repay anything, sometimes to an annoying degree like him making himself coffee in the morning and then just chucking money in their face before they can say anything. Either that or the man just goes and orders a fancy ass dinner while saying that he "ordered too much" which is just his weird way of showing that he cares for them all. That's not to say that he does that all the time. He understands fully that none of his friends are here for his money. The man can sometimes do it anyway out of habit though he's less bad with this than he was years ago.

For his body type, it's fairly basic, perhaps a little average. A little squishy in some areas which ironically makes him kinda huggable despite him still being aloof in nature. His slight squishy qualities are practically hidden to those who don't know him though. Besides, though he is squishy, that is not to say he should, by any means, be underestimated. He shares this quality with my Kyoko design in some ways (gotta love the togiri parallels) Basically, though he's not super muscular, he could still kick ass. Besides, I feel he wouldn't be one to try and get super buff and all anyway. He probably COULD gain some very good muscle though. He probably just doesn't want to. Additionally, I have him in slightly different glasses. For one, they are to differentiate him much more from his canon design. I also thought the chains would be cool and that the rounded frames would be a nice contrast to all the spikes I gave him in his hair. It also compliments his slightly softer appearance as well, being an older man as well pushing 30. Gives him more of a sense that he's got a bit of fallibility. That he's still a human at the end of the day! He also is a bit nicer with age as well though still Byakuya Togami of course!

Out of all the elements I changed about my favorite guy, I think my favorite aspect is his hair. So many cute tufts! Plus, I am a sucker for him having long hair. I also feel I made a good balance between making him look like he could totally pull off the Polaris thing again and having him still look like a guy. But also, he's a bit androgynous as well! Hope you all enjoy this loser's design! The next design will be very soon! (1) | (4)

[brian-in-finance]

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CAITRÍONA BALFE

ACTRESS

"I still get Backstage emails 'cause I still subscribe to Backstage. [Backstage is) kind of the Bible in the beginning, which is amazing. Samuel French and Backstage go hand in hand, you know? You go there for your plays when you're in classes, and then you get your Backstage."

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Brian’s Note: The following story originally appeared in April 2015. Most recent update is December 2020.

The Gorgeous Determination of Caitríona Balfe

Caitríona Balfe is on the move. That's been true most of her adult life— especially the 10 years she was modeling for Victoria's Secret, Dolce & Gabbana, and others—but as she sits on the rooftop patio of a West Hollywood hotel in mid-March, she mentions that she's pulling up stakes from Los Angeles.

"It just feels silly to have an empty place for 10 months until I figure out what I'm doing with my life," the Irish-born actor says. "I've rented the same place for the last four years and now I have to give it up." Her apartment is being razed to put in condos, but her departure from L.A. is extra poignant considering this is the city where Balfe journeyed when she decided to put aside that successful modeling career and focus on the vocation she'd always wanted: acting.

Photo: Luc-Richard Elie

"I've moved so much since I was 18," she says. "I mean, l've lived so many places. New York, I lived in for almost eight years [while modeling], and that's been the longest of anywhere since I left Ireland. But L.A. is where I came and said, 'OK, this is what I wanna do with my life.' "

She refuses to think of her move as a permanent one, though. "I'll be back," she declares, "but it feels really sad. My little apartment, it's got so many memories."

Balfe's sadness is no doubt mitigated by the fact that part of her need to move is due to the precipitous rise in her fortunes. She'll soon be flying to Scotland to shoot the second season of "Outlander," which returns to Starz April 4 to conclude Season 1.

When last we saw Balfe's Claire, the resourceful British nurse who comes home after World War |I only to be inexplicably teleported into the 18th-century Highlands, she was half-naked with a knife to her breast. Don't worry: Claire will get out of that scrape, but more perils await-to say nothing of the emerging multi-era romantic triangle developing between her, the Scottish warrior Jamie Fraser (Sam Heughan), and her 20th-century husband, Frank Randall (Tobias Menzies), who wonders where she's gone.

Based on the much-beloved Diana Gabaldon novels and developed for television by "Battlestar Galactica" rebooter Ronald D. Moore, "Outlander" is an ostensibly lush period-piece-within-a-period-piece drama that's consistently richer and thornier than its romance-novel trappings suggest. And much of the credit goes to Balfe, who had managed small parts in films such as “Super 8” and “Now You See Me” before landing the central role in this adaptation.

In person, Balfe is far less imposing than the steely Claire, who has to weather the dangers of being a woman in sexist, violent Scotland in the 1740s. Cast late in the preproduction of “Outlander”—Moore has mentioned in interviews how hard it was to find the right Claire—she didn’t have time to consider what the role would do to her life. “I’m so bad on social media," she confesses on this warm afternoon, nestled underneath a cabana. "I had set up an account on Twitter maybe a year or so before I got this job and had, I thought, a lot of followers — 250 or something, and most of them are my friends. Within about a month or two, it was thousands of people — and my phone, I didn't know how to turn off the alerts, so it was just going all the time. That was the beginning of the awareness."

Growing up in the small Irish community of Monaghan, Balfe had considered acting from an early age. ("I was devastated that I wasn't a child actor," she says, smiling. But after traveling to Dublin to study theater, she changed course once she received an offer to model. It wasn't a secret passion of hers, but who turns down a trip to Paris? "My parents felt that I should finish college," Balfe recalls, "but l'm slightly headstrong, so l took their advice and I completely ignored it."

Over the next decade, she lived in France, Italy, Germany, and Japan, her modeling inexperience hardly a detriment. "You'd be amazed how little information or training goes into it," she says. "When I first arrived in Paris, I was told to take a bus to the office. I left my suitcase — I barely spoke any French — and someone took me across the street, helped me buy a Carte Orange. They printed out five addresses that I had to go to that day, and then they sent me off." She still remembers at 18 riding the subway alongside 16-year-old aspiring Russian models, who knew no French or English, homesick and sobbing their eyes out. "That was just the way it was," says Balfe. "You become pretty tough. When I went to Japan, it was similar: They would drive you to their castings, but the minute you got a job, it would be like, 'Here's an address, here's a map. Good luck.' They don't have signposts in English in Japan, so the map and the address are not always very helpful."

Hear Balfe recount her early misadventures in modeling and you can't help but think of Claire, who's equally thrown to the wolves once she arrives in the 18th century amid people wary of the English in general and assertive women in particular. "Honestly, l've been in so many situations in my life where you just are completely displaced," Balfe says. “You have to adapt very quickly and figure it out. I definitely think that informs Claire a lot. It helped me understand her."

Did moving to Paris at such a young age teach Balfe that she can cope in any circumstance? "I think I didn't really realize that until many years later," she replies. "I have a great knack of not thinking about things and just going for it. You learn the hard way sometimes that you're able to get through, but sometimes it's quite tough when you're in a situation where you don't know anyone and you're trying to find your way around cities. But if an opportunity presents itself and it seems like a good idea, l'm just like, 'OK, let's do it, then I'll figure it out.'”

The decision to reconnect with her acting ambitions was conducted just as boldly. Ready to quit modeling, she moved to Los Angeles because a writer she was dating lived there. He was the only person she knew, but she had read a Vanity Fair interview with Amy Adams in which she said she trained with Warner Loughlin. "I could walk to that place from my ex-boyfriend's house," she says, "so l was like, 'Well, I'm gonna go there because I can't really drive. I started from scratch. I didn't have any managers, I didn't know any agents, I hadn't acted in almost a decade." But she just kept taking classes, moving from Loughlin to the studios of Sanford Meisner and Judith Weston. "I think when I first got here, I had a nice little air of delusion: 'It's gonna work out,'" she says with a laugh. “You just don't know how."

And then came "Outlander." By email, Moore admits that he didn't know Balfe's work until her audition tape came unsolicited to his office from her agent. Once she was chosen for Claire, he made it clear how demanding the job would be. “I told her in our first meeting that this was going to be an even bigger responsibility and workload than the normal TV lead," he writes. "Because the story was being told from Claire's point of view, Cait was going to be in every scene, every day for months, which is an extraordinary amount of work, far beyond what most actors are ever asked to do."

Moore's warning didn't faze Balfe. Writes Moore, "After she met with the president of Starz... and it was clear that she was going to land the role, I walked her to the elevator and just before the doors closed on her, I said 'Your life is about to change forever,' and she gave me a grin that was both thrilled and slightly nervous. I never saw her hesitate after that."

She's never hesitated before. As Balfe prepares to say goodbye to L.A. (for now, she thinks back to her early days in the city, trying to convince casting directors that she was more than just a model. "I went on many, many, many, many auditions that were Hot Girl No. 2 — you wanna shoot yourself," she says, laughing. "But, you know, I'm very lucky that l was even getting those auditions in the beginning. And it toughens you up. At least for me, to have that fuel to prove people wrong—it definitely spurs me on and makes me wanna work harder." Then she smiles conspiratorially. "And shove it to them."

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Remember… I told her in our first meeting that this was going to be an even bigger responsibility and workload than the normal TV lead. — Ronald D Moore

[introspectivememories]

i think what really sells me on brocedes is the fact that they still, to this day, live in the same building. isn't that crazy??? your ex best friend with whom you had a very public falling out with still lives in the same building as you. no one told them to stay there, they chose to do that!!! like nico, i understand. he's got a wife and kids. it'd probably be too much work to uproot them and move somewhere new. but lewis? every time i blink that man is at a new fashion show or fuckin hanging out with shakira. he does not have to live there!!! he does not have to live two floors away from his ex childhood best friend!! and like i know for a fact that there are other luxury condos or apartment or whatever in monaco!! he does not have to do this!!!

[swaps55]

I lost my friend to cancer yesterday.

I’d really like to tell you about her.

We meet people throughout our lives who change it, in big ways and small ways, and ways we will never forget. Sara/ @dearophelia was one of those people for me.

I met her here, on tumblr, about 10 years ago. I wish I could remember what piece of writing I stumbled onto first, but she was such a gifted writer that I immediately wanted to see more. I somehow wound up following her live blog of a road trip, which was full of uproariously snarky jokes about Ohio. I had the courage to reach out and tell her how funny I thought she was, and how great her username was to this fellow Mass Effect fan who lived right down the road in Kentucky and got all the Ohio jokes.

We talked. We chatted. I introduced her to a group of people I played Mass Effect 3’s multiplayer with. She grew from a level one first-timer to a total badass who could carry a team and taught other people how to do the same thing.

And then my life fell apart.

Everything fell apart for me. Turning to my family wound up being a catastrophe, and I didn’t have local “real world” friends I could turn to.

So I texted Sara. Told her I needed somewhere to go, and asked if I could stay with her that weekend.

She texted back, “Yes.” Sent me her address, and said to ping me when I got there. She didn’t hesitate. She didn’t ask why. She just gave me shelter. So I showed up on her doorstep, and she listened while I told her everything. She didn’t judge me. She didn’t think I was insane. She had every right to think both things. Instead, she gave me safe harbor at a time when I had no control over my life and didn’t know what was going to happen to me.

For the next several months, I made frequent trips up I-75 to Ohio. She kept an air mattress out for me. We played multiplayer. We talked about Mass Effect. We talked about life. We bitched about all the people who hated on one of our favorite characters. She introduced me to Babylon 5. I have so many memories of sitting on the couch in her apartment, with her cat Odo crawling around behind my head. When I eventually pieced myself together enough to leave Kentucky and start the work of starting over, it meant leaving behind that sanctuary with her in her apartment, and it was something I had to grieve along with everything else.

And now I am grieving it again, and so much more. I am so lucky I was able to fly back to Ohio a few weeks ago while I had the chance. Hugging someone goodbye, knowing it’s the last hug you’re going to get….well, it sucks.

But I got that hug.

Sara was so many things. She was a gifted storyteller with entire worlds in her head. One of the weekends I stayed with her, she had recreated the Mass Effect galaxy map on her wall with notecards and string to help her tell a story. She could create a character and make you fall in love with them in a matter of sentences. Because of her stories, I binge watched all ten seasons of Stargate SG-1.

She was also not afraid to unapologetically be herself. I had a lot of things to learn and unlearn about the world, feminism, gender, and sexuality, especially in those days. Listening to her fight for her space in the world and refuse to be told she was anything less than who she wanted to be helped me learn some of the things I needed to learn, and embrace the things I discovered about myself.   

She loved music. She made the best fucking playlists. She taped inspirational notes around her condo. She sent me a set of coasters that say, “Fuck It,” and “Nah,” and I use them every single day. Her smile was gorgeous. She lit up a room.  

And now she’s gone. I won’t see her in my tumblr notes anymore. I won’t see her on my dash. I won’t get pinged with new Odo photos. She won’t get to hear the new music I listen to that shows up in our Spotify blend. I won’t get to talk about the next Mass Effect game with her. I won’t get any more Ao3 updates in my inbox.

I wanted you to know about her – this pocket friend of mine who impacted my life in ways that I won’t ever forget.

I hope you will read her stories. Listen to her playlists. She was a brilliant human being. She should still be here. She isn’t.

And I miss her.