#which is why i appreciate the lack of it in all three shows

[latibvles]

ah . found the “WHY DID CURT’S DEATH HAVE NO FANFARE” post . [clenched teeth strained smile]

[jeneveuxrein]

safety net [1/2] (BLACKPINK Rosé)

word count: 25.8K

part 1 (14.8K) | part 2 (11K)

(thanks to everyone who read the first story i published, truly appreciate it! this one's more plot than anything with a smidgen of you know)

“Hey.” 

You glance away from your screen to Park Chaeyoung standing in front of you, a determined look on her face. You prefer to call her Rosie, mostly because you know how much it irritates her, and you’re the only one that calls her by her English name.

“Uh hey Rosie,” You greet, slightly closing your laptop. “What’s up?” 

“I have a proposition for you,” Rosie leans over the table. “And please listen to it before you flat out say no.”

You raise an eyebrow, shutting your laptop completely. You start packing your belongings. 

“Wait what? What’re you doing?” Rosie straightens, taking a step back. 

“Well I’m hungry, and if I have to listen to you, I would rather do it while I’m eating,” You swing your backpack over one shoulder, adding, “You’re paying by the way.” 

As you walk away, you hear Rosie huff. You smirk when her arm loops with yours. 

“Fine,” You don’t have to look at her to know she’s pouting, but you wonder what, of all things, she needs you for.

Guess you’ll find out. 

--

The server places your orders in front of you, as Rosie sits across from you, sipping her iced coffee. You give a small thanks as your mouth waters at the sight of the burger. 

“You act like you don’t eat,” Rosie comments after you take the first bite. You flip her off after taking another bite. You hadn’t eaten lunch, so you were starving. 

“What do you want?” You ask before you continue eating, ignoring her comment. No matter what, you were ravenous. This burger would be gone before she finished.

“Okay,” Rosie takes a breath, composing herself. You realize that whatever she’s going to ask you is big, especially if she’s asking you. Though, you keep eating. “So you know how I’ve never been in a relationship right?” 

You nod. It wasn’t any of your business, nor did you pay any attention to her dating life specifically, but your friends, the girls mostly, commented a lot about her lack of dating, or really lack of interest in anyone.

“Well, there’s this guy who I’ve been talking to lately and I think I like him,” Rosie takes a small bite of her salad. “The only problem is my, I guess, experience, if you’re catching my drift.” 

This burger is too good for you to stop eating, but you nod anyways, having absolutely no idea what she’s referring to.

“I was wondering if you could help me in that department,” You raise an eyebrow, which you’re paying attention now. “I mean, will you show me how to have sex?” 

You choke, being mid-bite, that the burger falls apart onto the plate. You cough as Rosie’s suddenly next to you, hitting your back. 

“Oh my god, are you alright?” Rosie asks once you’ve stopped coughing.

“Yeah, I’m good,” You nod, waving off the server who was walking towards your table. “I’m good,” You repeat and Rosie takes her seat again. 

“So? What do you say?” 

“No,” You say flatly, staring at the deconstructed burger on your plate. Thankfully you finished most of it, but still.

“What? Why?” Rosie crosses her arms, eyes narrowing. 

It doesn’t faze you. You’re used to this, especially if it’s with Rosie.

“First let me ask, why me?” You attempt to put the burger back together, distracting yourself from the thoughts of Rosie like that.

“Well, it was Jennie’s idea really,” Rosie confesses, watching you rearrange the meat patty. “She said that if I want to feel comfortable doing stuff with Soohyun, I should just get it over with.”

Choi Soohyun, the rich pretty boy at your university. You’ve met him a few times, and he’s nice enough. You know his track record with women is on par with yours, but the difference is that he uses his father’s money to pull them in. You, on the other hand, come from a relatively wealthy family as well, but only Rosie and her three best friends know that. 

“And it has to be me?” You ask bluntly, appetite suddenly gone as you push the plate away.

“Yes,” Rosie nods enthusiastically, “As much as everyone calls you a playboy, girls talk. You allegedly know your way around a bedroom, and what better way for me to learn is from you.”

“Chaeyoung, absolutely not,” Using her real name was only saved for serious moments, and this was way too serious for a Tuesday afternoon. 

“Why not?” Rosie argues, rolling her eyes. “It’s just sex, isn’t that what all guys want?”

“I’m not sure what guys you’ve been hanging out with, but no, not all guys want just sex,” You mock, leaning back into the chair. “And shouldn’t your first time be special with someone you actually, I don’t know, like?” 

“In an ideal world, yes,” Chaeyoung answers, aggressively stabbing a piece of lettuce. “But I don’t care much for that stuff. You’re not answering my question, why won’t you have sex with me?” 

There was a list of reasons you could think of as to why you won’t have sex with Rosie. 

Number one, and the only one you were concerned about, being the history you have together. 

You’ve been sworn enemies since middle school, but there was a time before that where you were actually close. You grew up in the house next to hers, and your parents set up multiple play dates that she was someone you enjoyed spending time with. You considered her your best friend. It changed in middle school, for reasons you still didn’t know. You didn’t have the mental capacity at that age to fix it because you missed her, but you’ve never told her that. 

In high school, it was better, but you feigned indifference while she flat out ignored you. Unless your families were having dinner, but even then that consisted of snarky comments and petty arguments. The amount of times her older sister had to step in were too many to count. 

You thought university would be your fresh start, but lo and behold, you couldn’t seem to shake her presence from your life. You thought you wouldn’t see her as much since you were taking different subjects, but your friends ran in the same circle, so you saw her more than you needed to. 

“Do you not find me attractive?” Rosie’s question catches you off guard when you don’t respond. 

You’d be lying if you said no. You’ve been a witness to Rosie turning into a beautiful woman, but if she knew that, especially coming from you, her ego would skyrocket. A lot of the men, even women, on campus have a crush on her, but she typically rejected anyone because she was too focused on school and her dream of becoming a fashion designer—something she was very close to achieving with the amount of internships she’s been receiving from companies abroad. 

“Shut up, you know it’s not that,” You mumble, ignoring the smirk forming on Rosie’s face. “It’s you and me. We haven’t gotten along since we were like seven, now all of a sudden, you want to,” You pause, thinking of how to say it, “Have sex with me because of what you’ve heard?” 

“Look,” Rosie sighs, face falling. You detect the desperation, but she’d never admit it. “I know our relationship is complicated, but you’re the only guy I can trust to do this. Jungkook would blab. Taehyung would be an ass. And Yoongi’s too nice. Everyone else has a girlfriend who I very much would like to stay friends with. Can’t we just put the past behind us?” 

You didn’t want to further complicate things. At best, you two were civil. At worst, Rosie would be yelling at you along with repeatedly hitting your shoulder to take back whatever set her off. 

Adding sex into the mix? It’s a bomb waiting to go off. 

“I don’t know, Chaeyoung,” You say softly, pushing your plate away. “As much as you’re a pain in my ass, I don’t think I could do that with you. It would feel like I’m taking advantage of you.” 

Her face softens, and she reaches for your hand, “You’re not taking advantage of me. If anything, I’m taking advantage of you. It’s not like we have feelings for each other right?” 

You don’t, as far as you’re aware, but you have always, and will always, have a soft spot for her. You may not have gotten along over the years, but you’d still have her back. If she means what she says about her trusting you out of all the friends she has, it’s important. 

“No,” It feels off saying that, but you ignore it. “Fine,” You relent. You couldn’t believe you were agreeing. “But we have to set rules.”

“Really?” Rosie beams, clapping her hands. “Yes yes, of course.” 

“Uh, first rule, we’ll do it at my place since I live alone. I don’t need Jennie or Lisa or Jisoo hovering,” You say, which she nods. You love the girls, hell you’ve slept with Jennie on a couple occasions, but they can be nosey and overly critical. 

“That makes sense. Rule number two, no sleeping over,” She makes a face, “I will literally bring you home if it’s super late, or I’ll just bring you home in general.”

“You really don’t have to do that,” Rosie rolls her eyes. 

“I know I don’t, but I’m not budging,” You’re firm about that. Your parents would kill you if anything happened to Rosie and you were the last person to see her. 

“Rule three, if you sleep with other people, please let me know and use a fucking condom,” Rosie says, “I don’t want my first time to end up with a disease.”

You’re slightly offended because as much as you have sex, you are safe. Even when girls don’t want to use protection, you do. 

“Obviously I will.”

“Good,” Rosie nods, “Last rule, no feelings. If at any point you or I feel something more than our mutual disdain for each other, we stop.” 

“Okay,” You roll your eyes, “Like I’d ever fall for you, but fine.” 

A pit forms in your stomach after saying that, but again, you brush it off.

“Right back at ya,” Rosie winks, smiling brightly that she accomplished her mission. “So what’re you doing tonight? Can we start?”

You nearly choke on your saliva, eyes bugging out as Rosie looks completely serious. 

“Uh,” You don’t have anything planned. You still have to finish the budget report your professor assigned, but it wasn’t due for another week. “You want to start tonight?”

“The sooner, the better right?”

“Okay,” You nod, suddenly nervous about this whole situation. “Okay,” You say a bit more confidently. “You’re paying for this.”

“I know,” Rosie chuckles, signaling to the server for the bill. 

What did you get yourself into?

--

You open the door for Rosie, letting her in first before following. You shut the door while she takes off her shoes, neatly placing them to the side as you take off your coat. 

“So this is your place,” Rosie comments, walking along the wall as she inspects the photos. It is her first time here, not that she was never welcomed. Your apartment has always been your safe place, only allowing a select few here.  “Did you take these?” 

“Yeah, I’m minoring in photography, so,” You shrug, walking past her as she stares at a photo from Jennie’s birthday. “I’m going to change into sweats, did you need anything? Water? Soju?” You offer because you’re considering taking a shot before you get started to ease your nerves. 

Rosie laughs, shaking her head, “Soju? Really? You need that?” 

“Don’t make fun of me. It isn’t every day that one of the hottest girls at school asks me to teach her to have sex,” You mutter, but Rosie hears you loud and clear. 

“You admit that I’m hot then?” You swear you can hear her smirking behind you. 

“Fuck off, help yourself to whatever,” You roll your eyes as she laughs. 

You don’t bother entertaining her any longer, making your way to your room. You change into something comfy—grey sweats and a white shirt. You hadn’t expected company tonight, nor had you expected having sex. It’s been about a week since, even though your ex-girlfriend messaged you about hooking up for fun the other day. You didn’t even respond, knowing that would just end up messy.

When you return to the living room, Rosie sits on your couch, legs crossed as she types away on her phone. You’d bet she was texting Jennie. 

“So how do you want to do this?” You ask awkwardly, scratching the back of your neck as you sit next to her. You leave a decent amount of space in between, not wanting to seem too eager. 

“I don’t know,” Rosie sighs, “Is there a way we can just ease into it?” 

“Like making out and stuff?” You’ve never spoken about sex so mechanically, that this is a first for you too. 

“I guess? I don’t really know how to start this,” Rosie says unsurely, looking away. 

“Hey,” You reach over, a finger gently tilting her chin to look at you, “There’s no pressure okay? We can just watch TV first and go from there. We literally don’t even have to do anything. As long as you’re comfortable.”

You watch her lip quiver. You hope she doesn’t cry. The last girl you made cry was Nayeon when you broke up with her.

“Okay,” Rosie nods, leaning into your hand. “Thanks again for this. I know this whole situation is awkward.” 

“Stop,” You wave dismissively, rubbing her cheek with your thumb. “It’s important to you, so I guess by default it’s important to me. Your pace,” You smile. 

When Rosie smiles back, you can feel something itch behind your rib cage. You quickly shake that away before retracting your hand. “Here,” You grab the remote, “Put something on, I’ll get us drinks.”

“Oh there’s this new Netflix reality show I want to watch,” You hear Rosie say as you walk to the kitchen. 

You didn’t have that much to offer, since you hadn’t had the time to head to the store. You do opt for a couple bottles of soju to ease both of your nerves along with water because hydration matters. You peruse your pantry and there’s a bag of unopened chips, figuring that would be good to have too. At least for yourself to keep your hands busy. 

When you return to the couch, placing the items on the coffee table, you see the opening credits of what looks like university students? 

“What’s this about?” You ask. This time, you sit closer to her, so that any shift in your leg, your knees would touch. 

Rosie goes on to explain the premise of the show, where people are about to be of legal age and how they form relationships in two different settings. She heard about the show from Lisa who binged it with Jennie in one night. 

“Is this sappy?” You pour a shot each, handing Rosie the glass. 

“Probably, but it’s wholesome,” Rosie raises the glass, “To my virginity?”

“I’m absolutely not toasting to that,” You roll your eyes, taking the shot without waiting. 

Rosie scoffs, downing the drink in one go before putting the glass on the coffee table. “You’re so annoying sometimes.” 

You don’t respond, instead choosing to pour another shot as the contestants of the show enter the classroom. You usually don’t drink this much on a weekday, but this situation warrants it. It feels surreal to be with Rosie, alone, in your apartment of all places. You couldn’t remember the last time you were willingly alone with her, but the thought of those memories were tucked away. 

“Here,” Rosie grimaces at the drink. “Just one more.” 

Rosie relents, taking the shot without making another annoying toast. You smirk before following. The liquid goes down smooth, but you feel the effects starting. Your cheeks feel warm, soothing some–not all–of the nerves. 

You lean back into the couch, throwing an arm casually over the cushion. Rosie automatically leans into you, sighing deeply before resting her head on your shoulder. 

“You smell good,” Rosie comments, snuggling deeper into your side. The compliment throws you off because she hadn’t said anything remotely nice to you in years. 

“Uh thanks,” You bring your free hand to scratch the back of your neck. Rosie doesn’t say anything else, nor do you. You settle in, letting what’s on the screen take your attention. 

The show is corny, but you understand why Rosie said it’s wholesome. The sense of innocence and pureness everyone has when it comes to relationships is something you miss. You hadn’t had that kind of outlook in years, which slightly makes you want to go into your future relationships more honest about how you feel.

But Nayeon cheating on you over a year ago left its damage on you. 

You’d never be disrespectful towards women, but you were upfront that whatever you did with them would never be serious. You couldn’t let it get too intense. Sure they’d always want more, but you couldn’t give yourself to someone like that again. 

At least not yet. 

“What’re you thinking about?” Rosie asks after a few minutes, resting her hand on your stomach. 

“Nayeon,” You say simply. 

She raises her head to look at you, “Huh, what why? Didn’t you break up like last year?”

“This show’s making me a little sentimental,” You say sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck. 

“Why’d you two break up anyways?” 

“What’d you hear?” You prod, curious as to what Nayeon told people. 

“According to Jennie, who heard it from Sana, Nayeon was tired of arguing,” Rosie furrows her eyebrows as she remembers what she heard. 

That’s one way to put it. 

“Ah well I guess so,” You shrug. 

“There’s more to it huh?” She's as perceptive as ever. 

“She cheated on me,” Rosie’s eyes widened. “We got into an argument about her meeting my parents. She kept pushing the issue, but you know how my parents are. She storms out and next thing you know, I’m getting a call from Jungkook to come to this party to pick up Nayeon cause she’s wasted.”

You remember that night clearly, something you wanted to very much forget. 

“I got there. I’m looking all over for her, Jungkook and Taehyung have no idea where she went. We pretty much split up looking for her, and lucky me, the first door I opened, Nayeon’s naked, on top of some guy.” 

Rosie sits up straight, crossing her legs on the cushion as she faces you. The concerned expression etched on her face has you believing she almost cares, but you don’t. 

“And she sees me, which immediately sobers her up. All I could do was nod, telling her that we’ll talk in the morning,” The memory still hurts to think about. “Nayeon, being Nayeon, followed me out, apologizing, saying it was a mistake.”

Rosie takes hold of your hand, and you let her. Letting this out feels nice since you hadn’t told anyone what happened. You told Nayeon to tell people whatever she felt was best, and you’d keep the real reason a secret. 

“Anyways, next day, we talk and she’s sorry, of course, but she just didn’t understand what the big deal was. It’s not that I didn’t love her, cause I did, but I didn’t think we were there yet for her to meet them,” You sigh, shaking your head. “But yeah we broke up. I didn’t care what she said, and I didn’t defend myself when Sana and Jihyo cornered me, calling me an ass. I just started to sleep around, which probably was the reason why I got that playboy reputation.” 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” Rosie says quietly after a minute, the words sinking in. 

You smile sadly, “It wasn’t for anyone to know, but it’s okay. It really is. Relationships are messy, which is why I avoid any emotional connection with girls. Not because I think less of them, but because I think the least of myself in that regard.”

“Stop,” Rosie squeezes your hand, forcing you to look at her. “I don’t know how you are in relationships, but I’m sure that whoever you’re with is lucky.”

“You’re just saying that,” Self-deprecation is something you’ve mastered in the past year.

Rosie tugs your hand with enough force so your face is in front of hers. You could feel her breath against your skin, the faint smell of alcohol lingering. “Stop,” She whispers. “I’m not.”

Blame it on the alcohol. Blame it on the sudden confession of why you are the way you’ve been. 

You kiss her, bringing your lips to hers. You sense her freeze, but she sighs softly after a moment. It ignites a fire in your chest, wanting nothing more than her close to you. 

You pull away, leaning your forehead on hers. You open your eyes first to see hers closed. 

“Sorry, I-”

“No,” Rosie cuts you off, cupping your face before kissing you again. 

Out of pure reflex, you pull Rosie on top of you, straddling your thighs as you wrap your arms around her waist. She lets out a small oomph, which you pause, but she continues moving her lips against yours. 

You dip your tongue in between her lips, earning a moan as she threads her fingers in your hair. A shiver goes down your spine as she tugs lightly, a move that turns you on immensely. Your cock stirs as her kisses become firmer, more sure. 

Rosie’s body starts to move. It’s subtle, but her hips slightly shift, causing you to pull away, groaning. 

“Chaeng,” You pant, hands gripping her waist to steady her. 

“Am I doing something wrong?” Rosie asks softly, chest heaving as she rests her forehead on yours. 

“No,” You kiss her on the nose. “You’re doing everything right. I just have to control myself,” You let out a breath. 

“Would it be the worst thing if you lost control?” Rosie murmurs, pecking you softly on the lips. 

The question goes straight to your cock. It doesn’t help that she’s seated right on top of it that you have to remember that this isn’t about you.

Yes is what you want to say because this is still new to her, and as lame as it sounds, like you actually care about her, you do want to make this enjoyable.

“I don’t know,” You shrug, loosening your grip. “But I don’t want to rush into it. Small steps right?”

“Right,” Rosie nods, kissing the corner of your mouth. “So what next?” 

“Uh,” Your brain’s short circuiting because all the blood in your body seems to have rushed south. “Maybe just rock your hips and see how it feels?”

“Like this?” She gently rolls herself over you, testing the waters. 

“Is it doing anything for you?” You grit out. 

“I’m not sure, let me try again,” She rolls her body again, but with a little more pressure that she moans softly. “That did.”

It definitely did something for you because your cock stiffens at the contact. 

“Just do what feels good for you,” Your head falls back as she repeats the motion, undulating her hips over your erection. “Yeah just like that,” You sigh, guiding her movements along your length. 

All you feel is Rosie. She’s wearing leggings, but the friction over your sweats overwhelms your senses. You act on impulse, kissing her again. She returns the kiss with the same enthusiasm, grinding down. 

You didn’t think dry humping would get you this worked up, but the small moans Rosie lets out against your lips has you hoping you don’t make a mess of yourself. 

“Fuck,” Rosie moans, tearing her lips off yours as her rhythm falters. 

It leaves her neck exposed, so you trail your lips along her chin, peppering soft bites that has her gripping your shoulders tightly. 

You feel her nails digging into your skin. Her pace quickens before her body suddenly seizes, jerking on top of you, as she moans loudly.

Fuck she’s coming. 

Doing what you can to prolong her orgasm, you rock up into her, hoping you’re hitting her clit at the right angle. Her body freezes, shaking that you didn’t have the reflex to control your own body before cumming into your sweats, groaning in the crook of her neck. 

You hadn’t had a visceral response like that in years, but that was the hottest thing you’d ever experienced. The fact that Rosie got off by rubbing herself against you goes straight to your head. 

Rosie’s breathing heavily against you, playing with the hairs on your neck as you try to regulate your own breath. 

“I—fuck, I’m so sorry,” Rosie says softly, resting her butt on your thighs. 

“What?” Your voice comes out hoarse. “Why are you apologizing?” 

“I don’t know,” She buries her head into your neck. 

“That was hot,” You confess, placing a soft kiss on her neck. Her body shivers at the contact, causing you to smile.

“Really?” She sounds so unsure, that you don’t know how else to make her believe you. 

“Really,” You pull back to her, avoiding your gaze. Her cheeks are flushed, hair a little wild, but she looks hot either way. 

Maybe it was the release of hormones after an orgasm that could be clouding your thoughts, but you find her so attractive at this moment that you want to kiss her again. 

“Did you, you know?” Rosie glances down, biting her lip. 

“Uh,” You force out a chuckle. “Yeah… Sorry about that. I should probably change.” 

“Right,” Rosie’s eyes stay looking at your crotch before she shakes her head. “Right,” She repeats and moves off your lap. 

“Give me a few and I’ll drive you home, okay?” You stand, placing a hand over the wet spot on the fabric. 

“You really don’t have to, I can call a car.”

“No,” Shaking your head, “I insist.”

“You’re so fucking stubborn sometimes,” And just like that, it’s back to normal. 

“Yeah and you used me to cum, so,” She throws a pillow at you, which you easily dodge, laughing as you walk to your room. 

--

--

Can we meet tonight? 

The words glowing on your screen as you walk out of the building, just finished your last class of the day. 

It’s been about a week since Rosie asked you. You hadn’t seen her, but she occasionally sent you articles regarding sex and if you ever experienced such things. The one that had you almost drop your phone was if you ever made a girl squirt, which you haven’t, but you explained not all girls can. 

Instead of replying back with a message, you call her. 

“Hello?”

“Where are you? We can do take away,” You offer, walking in the direction of where she might be. 

“I’m in the music building with Jennie,” You immediately turn around to go the other direction. 

“Okay I’m on the way, I’ll be there in a little,” You hang up without waiting for her to respond. You’ll probably get a slap or two, but it’s not like it matters. 

By the time you reach the music building, Rosie and Jennie are outside, talking with another person. You can’t see who it is, but as you get closer, it’s Nayeon. 

Fuck. 

It wasn’t like Nayeon and you were on bad terms. You were always polite and treated her with the same respect you would like anyone else. It would just look suspicious to be walking alone with Rosie since she always made remarks about the weird feeling she got when you were in the same vicinity. She described it as unresolved sexual tension, but it never felt like that to you. 

“Oppa,” Jennie greets, her gummy smile forming as you walk up to them. There’s a mischievous glint in her eyes as they dart between you and Rosie because of course she knows about the arrangement. 

“Hey,” You smile, waving awkwardly to Nayeon. 

Nayeon gives a small hi while Rosie slaps your shoulder, “That’s for hanging up on me.” 

“Okay,” You rub where she hit. “Ready to go?” You ask, reaching for Rosie’s bag without thinking. 

“Uh?” Jennie’s eyes widen while Nayeon’s narrow at the gesture. “How nice of you?” Rosie reluctantly hands over her bag. 

You don’t know what came over you because you definitely didn’t just carry a girl’s bag, which Nayeon was very aware of. She knew you only carried stuff for the girl you’re dating, something she experienced firsthand. 

“My way of saying sorry for hanging up on you,” You say smoothly. Her bag is heavy, which you hope they can’t tell you’re struggling.

“Nayeon was telling us about a party this weekend,” Jennie says. 

“It’s Mina’s birthday,” Nayeon says softly, eyes on you. “You should come if you’re free.” There’s a hopeful tone in her voice.

“Um,” You’re put on the spot, wracking your brain for any excuse, but Rosie saves you. 

“Don’t we have dinner with our parents? If we get back early enough, you could probably make it.”

You try to ignore the way Nayeon’s face falls, but you can’t ignore Jennie’s confusion since she obviously would’ve known. 

“Oh yeah, you’re right,” You play along. You hadn’t had a family dinner in months, but it was a somewhat believable excuse. “I’ll see if I can make it.” 

You listen as the girls say bye, Jennie opting to walk with Nayeon to catch up. When the two women leave, Rosie tries grabbing her bag back. 

“What’re you doing?” She huffs when you don’t let go. 

“I can carry my own bag, you know,” Rosie walks in front of you, clearly annoyed. 

“I know, but just let me do this for you.” 

“You’re most likely giving me an orgasm tonight, you’re doing enough,” Rosie rolls her eyes, attempting once again. “I don’t want people to get the wrong idea.” 

“Fine, here,” Her comment pisses you off, but she has a point. The university playboy holding the bag of one of the most wanted girls on campus? That would surely be part of the gossip mill. You hand over the bag, a muttered thanks makes you roll your eyes. 

“You’re paying for dinner tonight,” Rosie states. 

You honestly already planned to, but you nod anyway. 

--

“Can you take your shirt off?” Rosie asks, out of breath, as you hover over her. 

“Uh yeah,” You lean back, pulling your shirt over your head, tossing it somewhere to the side before bringing your lips back to hers. 

That same show plays in the background, unopened food forgotten on the coffee table. The plan was to eat then fool around, but Rosie had something else in mind. 

“Okay don’t let this get to your head,” Rosie says against your lips, in between kisses, trailing a finger over your abdomen, “But you’re actually hot.” 

The muscles flex under her touch, that you pull her body to the edge of the couch cushion, “I know,” You smirk, dipping a hand underneath her blouse. “Is this okay?” You ask. 

“More than okay,” Rosie spreads her legs wider to let you rest in between. 

You grind yourself against the apex of her thighs, thankful she wore a skirt today. She moans as it spurs you on to do it again. Mimicking the motion of thrusting in and out of her has your imagination running wild as to what it will be like when you’re actually inside her. 

“Fuck,” Rosie grips your arms as you continue the motion. “Don’t stop.” 

You won’t until she cums, and her back arches as she rolls her hips down to meet your thrusts. After one particularly hard thrust, her body tenses and bingo. 

“There?” You breathe out as you hit the same spot again. She nods, as you watch her face scrunch up. “Gonna cum for me?” 

“Yeah,” Her eyes open, gaze locked in between your legs. “Fuck, Jennie was right. You’re huge.”

As if your ego couldn’t get any bigger. You’re sure she felt just how big you were last week, but she most likely didn’t see it. It probably didn’t help that you were wearing sweats that accentuated your size. 

“Thanks,” You grunt, too focused on her pleasure and your own. 

You flip her skirt up, mouth watering at the sight of her choice in lingerie. A simple lavender thong with a small bow at the waistband has your hips rutting into her faster. 

“Fuck you’re so hot,” You bite your lip, head thrown back as she moans louder. 

“I think I’m—oh shit,” Rosie’s body tenses in your hands, back arching as her orgasm washes over her. You feel her clit pulse through your sweats that you continue grinding against her. 

You’re more composed this time and don’t prematurely cum. However, your cock hurts from not having a release. You’ll likely just suffer through it and deal with your problem after you drop her off. 

You don’t move from your position, keeping the pressure of Rosie’s cloth-covered pussy against you. You might not get to cum, but it still feels nice. After a few minutes of her regulating her breathing and you thinking of everything not related to fucking her, she smiles up at you. You return the smile, tickling her skin that she squirms in your hold. 

“Stop!” She slaps your arm. “You know I’m ticklish.” 

“I know,” You fold over, resting your head on her stomach. “Was that okay?” Her skirt hasn’t moved, and you’re trying very hard not to touch her there. 

“Yeah, that was… something,” Rosie sighs, placing her hand lazily on your head, lightly scratching. “Can you do something else since we’re already here?” 

“Sure, what?” You look up to Rosie biting her lip. 

“Can you touch me?” Rosie asks softly, adding, “Like down there?” 

Your palm twitches at the request, hell, your cock twitches too. 

“Uh, yeah,” You push yourself up, kneeling in between her legs. They try to close, but with how you’re positioned, it doesn’t go very far. “Just let me know if anything hurts, I’ll stop.”

Rosie nods, giving you the signal to do something. What you really wanted to do was find out how she tastes, but you tuck that thought away for another time. There will be a time in the future where that’ll happen. 

You reach under her skirt, gently pulling the fabric down. She kicks it away, leaving her completely bare from the waist down.

You’re fucked. 

Your mouth waters at the sight of her. Your gaze must’ve made her nervous because she quickly covers herself. 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” You pull back. 

“No, no,” Rosie shakes her head, crossing her legs. “I’m just nervous.”

“Hey,” You move to sit next to her. “We don’t have to do anything.”

“Can we go to your room?” Rosie offers weakly, which you nod, standing, extending a hand out. She gives you a small smile, taking it before you pull her up. She stumbles a little, but you’re there to catch her. “Lead the way?” 

You guide Rosie to your room, nerves prickling at you because no woman has ever been in your room except Nayeon. You had a strict rule of sleeping with women at their place, never yours. Rosie notices your hesitation when you stand in the doorway, asking if you were okay. 

“Um, this is going to sound bad, but the last woman that was in my bed was Nayeon,” You say quietly, letting go of Rosie’s hand. 

“That’s okay?” Rosie says unsurely. “If it’s too much for you, we can go back to the couch.” 

You shake your head. It isn’t that big of a deal, you were probably overthinking it. “No, it’s okay. I just felt like telling you that,” Which was true. You wanted to tell Rosie that, even though there wasn’t a reason to. 

Rosie kisses your shoulder softly before walking around you towards your bed. She slips underneath the comforter, which you follow right after her, laying on your side as she’s on her back. 

“You okay? We don’t have to do anything else tonight,” You prop your head on your hand, staring at her as she looks at the ceiling. 

“Yeah I’m okay, more than okay. It just feels…” Rosie trails off, pouting a little as she tries to find the words. She looks pretty cute like this, but you immediately shake that thought away. You aren’t supposed to be having thoughts like that when this whole situation was transactional. “Intimate, I guess. To be in your bed like this.” 

“I suppose so.” 

“But yeah let’s keep going,” Rosie glances at you before turning to face you. “How should we…?”

A question pops into your mind, “Have you ever touched yourself?” 

“Err, yes?” 

“What does that mean?” You chuckle.

“I guess I have. I’ve never gotten off on my own though. I’ve put a finger inside myself, but it felt weird so I just stopped,” Rosie blushes, turning away. 

“Uncomfortable?” You ask softly, bringing your hand to rest on her stomach. 

“I guess? I don’t exactly know what I’m doing,” Rosie mumbles. 

“Let me, yeah?” You move so you’re sitting up, back against the headboard. “Come here, sit in between my legs.” 

Rosie complies, settling in between your legs as she lays against your chest. You kiss the crown of her head, sliding your arms around her body. 

Now this feels intimate, and oddly feels right to be with her like this. Again, you shake that feeling away, reminding yourself that this is just sex. 

A finger traces down her stomach aimlessly, hoping it relaxes her. She sighs contentedly before resting her head on your shoulder. You kiss her neck, and she giggles. 

“That tickles,” Rosie says shyly. 

“But in a good way right?” You murmur, bringing your hand lower. Her legs automatically widen and her breath hitches as you apply light pressure on her hip bone. 

“Yeah,” Rosie sighs, shifting against your cock. 

“Good. You trust me right?” You dip your hand in between her legs, resting on her pubis. Her hands find your thighs to hold on to, nodding. 

You swipe a finger in between her folds, slowly, and she’s absolutely soaked. Your cock twitches at how wet she is. You’re sure you’re leaking into the fabric of your sweats. 

“You’re wet,” You don’t recognize your voice. 

“I’m sorry?” Rosie moans as you swipe through again, gently brushing over her clit. 

“No, it’s fucking hot,” You murmur and her nails scratch at your skin. “So fucking hot.” 

You repeat the motion a few times, eliciting soft moans as she squirms against you. Your other hand carefully unbuttons her blouse, and when the last button comes undone, you cup her breast, squeezing lightly. 

“You’re being a tease,” You smirk against her skin, nipping lightly as she drops her head down. 

“Just making you feel comfortable,” You chuckle as you swipe down, dipping your index finger inside. 

“Oh shit,” Rosie throws her head back when you pull your finger out. 

Your finger circles her entrance slowly as her legs spread wider. This position isn’t the best and you’ll likely strain your wrist, but you couldn’t care less about yourself at the moment. You insert your finger in again, but this time, you don’t pull out, letting your finger rest inside her. 

You imagine your cock inside her, stretching her out. Your cock literally aches to be inside her because if this was how she felt—tight, warm, wet—you’d bust. 

“Move,” Rosie commands through gritted teeth, her hips rolling down to get more of you inside her. 

“So impatient,” You whisper, biting her skin softly. “It’s like you want me or something.” 

“Oh fuck you,” Rosie’s nails digging into your skin as you start to move. 

“You will,” Your voice comes out low, slowly moving in and out of her slick. “Not tonight,” Unfortunately, “But you will.” 

“You’re so—fuck,” Rosie chokes on her words when your palm brushes over her clit, the penetration overstimulating her. 

You smirk, freeing your hand from her chest and bringing hers under yours, “Touch yourself.”

Rosie easily obliges, rubbing her fingers over her clit as you begin pumping a smidge closer. Her pussy’s still tight, but her body’s slowly welcoming the intrusion. Based on the blissed-out expression on her face, eyes closed, she’s biting her lip. 

“Don’t be shy Rosie,” You kiss behind her ear, “Let me hear you.” 

Her eyes open, and the lust is there. She moans louder as her fingers move faster, causing you to match her pace. Your cock aches, wanting some sort of relief that your hips lightly thrust against her backside. 

“Fuck,” Is all you can say because you want to fuck Rosie, especially with how her walls are squeezing your fingers.

“Cum,” You say simply and she does.

Her body spasms, back arching as she presses her butt directly on your cock. She lets out the sexiest moan you’ve ever heard, drawn out as her free hand reaches for your neck. Her walls aren’t letting your fingers move, so you opt to gently move them to prolong her orgasm.

After a minute, or two, Rosie falls limp in your hold, her arms flailing over your thighs. You slowly pull your fingers out, peering over her shoulder to see her slick. A nasty thought comes to you, and you bringing your fingers to your mouth, cleaning them to see what she tastes like, and dear fuck you want it directly from the source. 

“You’re fucking gross,” Rosie pants softly, weakly lifting her arm to swat your hand away. 

“You wanna taste yourself?” You brush your finger against her lips, and she makes a disgusted face. “Eh, if not now, later.”

Rosie tries to sit up, but she falls back into your chest, resting her head on your shoulder as you bring your arms around her stomach. You kiss her neck, murmuring, “Was that okay?” 

“It was great,” Rosie nods slowly, turning her head slightly to kiss your cheek. “Thanks for that. I see the appeal in it now.”

You chuckle, chest vibrating against her body, “Yeah sex is pretty great.” 

“I’m so tired,” Rosie yawns.

“Uh,” You’re still hard, which you hoped Rosie was too blissed out to notice. “Let me just shower first and I’ll take you home.” A cold shower was needed. You’ll probably give yourself relief when you get home, but you don’t think you’ll be able to survive the drive. 

“Okay,” Rosie yawns again, “But can we stay here for a few more minutes?” 

“Of course.”

Rosie sighs contentedly, snuggling into your chest. You typically didn’t cuddle after, but with her, it felt warranted. You wouldn’t say it felt right, but it didn’t feel wrong. You were comfortable doing this with her, and you hadn’t felt that since Nayeon. 

You would be lying if you said you hadn’t missed Rosie. Child-you would be happy to spend time with her, but adult-you knows what this is—sex. A knot forms in your stomach at the thought, but your rational side knew you  and her weren’t ever going to be together. 

Weird, but you dismiss the feeling completely.

“I’ll give you some clothes to wear,” You offer, nuzzling your chin into her. 

“They’ll give you shit, you know that right?” Referring to her friends.

“Tell Jennie she never got anything from me,” You quip, earning a light slap on your leg. “What! She didn’t!” 

“Stop talking about my friend who you’ve slept with after you just gave me two orgasms,” You didn’t need to see her face to know she rolled her eyes. 

“Sorry,” You mumble, kissing her neck. 

Rosie laughs, a sweet airy laugh that has your heart fluttering, and you think that it’s a sound you’d want to hear more often. 

--

--

Someone ruffles your hair as you’re zoned in on finishing this expense report and you hear laughter behind you. 

“What the fuck,” You pull your headphones out to see the offender. 

Rosie. 

With Lisa right behind her. 

“Sorry,” Lisa peeks her head over Rosie, “You just looked too focused that I wanted to mess with you.” 

“What do you two want?” Your eyes narrow as Rosie smiles. It eases your irritation, but still.

“Figured we’d say hello. Chaeng saw you, but didn’t want to disturb you. I, however, did,” Lisa answers, stepping forward. There’s a shit-eating grin on her face. 

“Hey,” Rosie says softly. “I’m sorry. I told her not to.” 

“It’s okay,” You shrug, checking your watch. 

“Do you have plans tonight?” Lisa wiggles her eyebrows, eyes darting to Rosie, who slaps the back of her head. “Ow.”

“I have a game with Yoongi in about an hour.” 

“Oh we should watch!” Lisa nudges Rosie, who rolls her eyes. “Come on, it’ll be fun.” 

Rosie gives you a look, as if she’s waiting for you to invite her yourself. You smile, giving a small nod. 

“Okay fine,” Rosie sighs, shaking her head, but she smiles at you anyways. 

“Are you good oppa? I’ve seen Yoongi play, and he’s pretty good,” Lisa asks as you start to pack your stuff. 

“I guess you’ll see,” You didn’t like talking about yourself. You considered yourself decent, but there would always be someone better. 

When you finish, you decide you wanted to tease Rosie. You wait until Lisa’s a few feet away, leaning forward, “I’m usually pretty riled up after a game, so I hope you’ll come over after.” 

The blush on Rosie’s face has you grinning, which gets even wider when she gives you a small nod.

--

“I don’t get why you do that.”

“Do what?” You ask, mouth full of mandu. 

“Say you’re not good, but then score twenty points like it’s nothing.”

“So you were keeping track?” You smirk, reaching for another mandu on the table with your chopsticks. 

“No, Yoongi told me after the game,” Rosie huffs, crossing her arms as she slouches into the couch. 

“It’s okay if you did, I’m flattered you paid that much attention to me.” That earns you a slap, but you couldn’t care. You played the whole game so you were starving. 

You’re back at yours, just hanging out. You really had no intention of doing anything with Rosie tonight, even if you did tease her about being riled up. As much as you’d hate to admit it, you enjoy spending time with her as of lately. 

Lisa gave you a thumbs up when Rosie told her she’d be leaving with you. No one seemed to notice when you two walked out together, but Yoongi did text you asking where you went since the team usually went out after. 

“I have a question.”

“Go for it.”

“Do you ever feel frustrated after we you know?” 

“Uh,” The question catches you off guard. 

It’s been two days since, and you can admit it was a struggle after feeling her cum on your fingers. You thought about having sex with someone to give you some relief, but that thought had the knot in your stomach tightening. 

“Frustrated in the sense I need to release,” You answer honestly, but quickly followed up with, “But it’s not that big of a deal. I took care of it.” The tips of your ears burned at the implication.

Rosie sighs next to you, shaking her head, “Okay can I be honest?” 

“Uh of course?” 

“I feel bad,” You were about to bite into the last mandu, but you stopped. “I feel like you’re always making me feel good, but I feel like I’m doing nothing in return.”

You place the mandu back in the box, dropping your chopsticks with it. 

“Believe me you are,” The memory of Rosie’s face as her orgasm hit was something that could not be forgotten. 

“But it doesn’t feel like it!” She throws her hands up dramatically. “I haven’t even seen your you know yet.”

“Oh my god,” You chuckle. “Just say it. It’s not a bad word.” 

“Cock?”

“No.”

“Penis?”

“No.”

This conversation is getting nowhere. 

“Take it out,” Rosie says suddenly.

“Only if you say cock,” You raise an eyebrow. 

“No.”

“Then no cock for you,” You poke her nose after she huffs, hitting your leg. 

After a minute, Rosie shoves her face into your chest. She mumbles something that you can’t quite make out, asking her to repeat. 

“Cock,” Rosie says quietly, rubbing her face deeper from embarrassment. 

“Was that so hard?” You smile, kissing her head. “Do you really want me to ‘take it out’ as you so eloquently put it?” 

“Yeah,” Rosie mumbles, and you swear there’s a pout. 

“You do it,” You offer, shifting slightly to wrap an arm around her. “No pressure Chaeng. Do whatever you feel is right and if anything hurts me, I’ll tell you.”

Rosie shyly asks if you could move to your bed, which you happily oblige. You swoop her in her arms, causing her to scream and slap your chest the whole way to your room. You laugh as she curses at you, but it’s fun for you and you know she thinks it is too. 

“You’re annoying,” Rosie comments after you drop her on the bed. “Literally the most annoying person I know. How do girls put up with you?” 

“I can think of a few ways that make up for it,” You sit on the edge of the bed, facing her. 

“Arrogant too,” Rosie adds, shifting her body so she’s next to you. 

Neither of you say anything while you’re sitting. You’re trying to think of how to guide Rosie while she stares at the floor. An idea pops into your mind, as you scoot until your back is pressed against the headboard. 

“What’re you doing?” 

“Seduce me,” You say simply, patting the space next to you. Her eyebrows furrow, but she’s right back next to you in no time. 

“How?” 

“We’ve done a few things together, I’m sure you could figure it out.” It wouldn’t take much to turn you on. Your control slips every time Rosie’s over that your body has a mind of its own. 

She could kiss you and you’d be hard, as embarrassing as that is.

“Um okay,” Rosie bites her lip as she looks at you. 

You smile, winking even, that makes her roll her eyes. 

Rosie leans forward, kissing you softly on the lips. You keep your hands still, but your lips move easily against hers. She lets out a small moan when you dip your tongue into her mouth. Her arms circle around your neck, pulling you closer.

The blood in your body rushes south, waking your cock as Rosie presses against you. Kissing her has become one of your favorite things even if you’ve only done less than a handful of times. As someone who has had a healthy sex life, it’s scary how easily your body reacts to her.

She detaches her lips, placing soft kisses along your jawline. You let her, relaxing into the headboard as your eyes close.

A groan escapes from your lips when Rosie places her hand over your crotch. 

“What?” She pulls back, a concerned look etched on her face. Her hand doesn’t move though. 

“Nothing, you’re doing great,” You take a breath, “Just caught me off guard.” 

Rosie makes a sound, but goes back to kissing your face. Her hand starts to move, palming your cock over your sweats.

Your body immediately reacts, hardening underneath her touch. She smirks against your neck, “Well hello.” 

You laugh, shaking your head before kissing her sweetly on her forehead, “It’s a bodily reaction, what do you expect?”

“I think your body likes me,” Rosie brings her lips to yours before sitting straight. In a swift move, she swings her leg over you, cupping your face and bringing you in a bruising kiss, not giving you a chance to answer.

You instinctively rest your hands on her waist, pulling her body flushed against yours. She lets out a moan as your grip tightens. 

You’re too lost in the kiss to notice Rosie sneaking her hand in between. Her fingers brush against the waistband of your sweats, abdomen tightening at her touch. You mumble a pathetic please because all she’s doing is riling you up. She smirks against your lips, dipping her hand to actually touch you. 

Your head’s spinning and your hips involuntarily thrust into her hand. Given the space, it’s a little tight, but Rosie’s hand wrapped around you has your control slipping faster than before. You pull your sweats down so you’re fully free.

“Is this okay?” Rosie asks in between kisses as she slowly moves her hand up and down your length.

“Fuck yes,” You groan, detaching your lips from hers as your head falls backs. 

Her hand’s soft, velvet-like, as she strokes you. You’re almost scared to look down because you feel yourself leaking as she cups the tip. She tentatively spreads it over you, that it’s making you lose your mind. 

You open your eyes to Rosie intently staring at her ministrations, her tongue slightly peaking out. 

“You can squeeze a little, but—ow shit!” Your hand shoots out, holding her wrist as you gasp. 

“Oh my god,” Rosie automatically lets go, “I’m so sorry!” 

You cough, catching your breath. You’re already sensitive, but it felt like Rosie was about to rip your dick off. “I’m fine,” You cough again, “Just a little lighter.” 

“Sorry,” Rosie mumbles, looking away. 

You place your hand over hers, together enclosing over your cock. “Like this,” You slowly move her hand under yours, applying enough pressure. Her hand’s smaller than yours, so she can’t completely fit around your girth. 

“How does it feel?” Rosie asks softly. 

“Good,” You nod, eyes rolling back as you let go of her hand. “So good.” 

Rosie experiments with her grip and pace for a while, going faster at times while squeezing the right amount that has you seeing stars. You’re too focused on her hand that you don’t notice her move off your lap. 

Something warm envelopes your cock and your eyes shoot open to Rosie’s mouth around the head. 

“Fuck,” You grip the bedsheet, nearly tearing it off. “Give me a warning next time,” You moan. 

“Sorry,” Your cock fucking pops out of her mouth as she continues to stroke you, “It seemed warranted. Too much?” 

“Not enough,” Your abdomen tenses as she engulfs you again, going farther down your length. 

Her tongue licks your tip as you watch her cheeks hollow out. You're mesmerized as she moves her head up and down your length, and each time she gets lower. 

“Has anyone ever deepthroated you?” Rosie asks, catching her breath, but her hands don’t remain idle. 

“Uh,” You barely hear her question, “I don’t know,” You couldn’t give a fuck about anyone else at the moment, but if she wants to try, you’ll let her. 

“Can I try?” Rosie places a sweet kiss on the tip, making a face as a smidge of precum gets on her lip. 

“By all means,” Your eyes roll back. Your hand itches to hold onto her head, but you’re scared of forcing her to take more than she can. 

Rosie’s lips are around you once again, and the tip hits the back of her throat. There’s a sharp inhale, and you’re not sure if it’s from her or you, but that doesn’t deter her. 

“Chaeng,” You grit out and your hand moves to the back of her head, threading your fingers in her hair. You don’t push down, but her throat relaxes and takes you all the way. “Fuck,” Your fingers fist through her locks, keeping her there until her finger taps on your thigh. 

You immediately let go, and she comes off your cock, a slight dribble of drool on her chin. 

“How was that?” Rosie smirks. 

“Either make me cum or fuck off,” Your eyes narrow, challenging her that she doesn’t reply, instead taking you down her throat once more, swallowing around your length that you cum without warning. 

You try to pull her off as your release shoots down her throat, but she’s adamant to take all of you. Your eyes roll back when she swallows, the pressure becoming too much as your hips thrust up into her mouth. 

Rosie’s mouth is dangerous, and you’re thanking whatever deity for her skills. You’ve had your fair share of blow jobs, but she’s number one in your book. You’re definitely never going to tell her because practice makes perfect, and you know she’s a perfectionist. It might be a little selfish, but you’ll gladly be willing to take whatever she gives you until this is over. 

Once your orgasm and she’s drained you for all that you’ve had, your hand relaxes, dropping to the side. She slowly comes off your cock, overly sensitive, but she licks the underside and that has your head spinning. 

“So,” Rosie sits in between your legs, wiping her chin with the back of her hand, “How was I?”

You’re still trying to catch your breath, but you weakly get out, “There’s always room for improvement.”

“Really?” Rosie raises an eyebrow, eyeing your now-soft cock. “I drained you in less than fifteen minutes.” 

“I’ve been pent up,” You mumble, eyes closing. “I blame you.”

“Just admit you think I’m hot,” Rosie’s suddenly hovering over you, hair tickling your face. 

“Move your hair,” You try to push her off, but you’re bone dead. Playing a game followed by this has your body exhausted. 

“Admit it,” Rosie kisses your lips, a slight tang on them. “I did,” She adds. 

You groan, wrapping an arm around her so she’s fully on top of you, “Why do you need to hear that?” You know she knows you think so. 

“Cause,” She kisses you again, leaving her lips on yours.

“Cause what?” You sigh, lazily moving your lips against hers. 

Rosie’s tongue dips into your mouth, short circuiting your brain before murmuring, “Cause it’s you.”

Your eyes feel heavy, wanting to pass out and you actually might. Something washes over you before your body shuts down. You don’t know why, but you tell her, “You’re not hot, you’re beautiful,” before sleep takes over completely.

(You wake up a few hours later, alone, but not without a note on your nightstand, groaning at Rosie’s cursive— 

Thanks handsome guy <3 see you around. 

ps I called a car, and before you beat yourself up, it’s okay)

--

--

It’s stupid. 

You’re stupid. 

A fool, some might say.

You’re calling yourself a fool. 

What compels you to be at Rosie’s apartment door, waiting, holding a bouquet of roses, without even asking if she’s home, is beyond you. 

It’s a risky move, the longer you wait for her—or anyone for that matter—to open the door. 

You immediately felt guilty waking up to Rosie’s note. You didn’t even return the favor, and you’ve been wanting to. In your mind, showing up at her place, uninvited, with flowers, was a way to make it up to her before asking if she wanted to come over so you could thoroughly make it up to her. 

The door swings open and it’s Lisa, clothes wrinkled and hair all over the place. You don’t comment on it because you know something’s going on between her and Jennie, but it wasn’t your place to ask. Instead you ask, “Hey, sorry to bother, but is Rosie in?” 

Lisa smiles, and your face falls, the answer doesn’t need to be said, but she invites you in anyways. 

You don’t know why you just don’t leave, but you enter their apartment, slipping off your shoes while awkwardly holding the flowers. 

“Here, let me take those.” They’re out of your hands before you could respond. “Make yourself at home.”

You’ve been here a handful of times, mostly when there was a party or someone needed a ride home, but it feels off being here. 

Or does it feel that way because she wasn’t here? 

You follow Lisa to the living room, seeing Jennie seated on the couch in the same disheveled appearance. Her eyes widen when she realizes it’s you here, but she doesn’t say anything except for a polite hello. 

Neither of the women say anything, but Lisa prepares the flowers in the vase. You stare at the coffee table, trying to find any words to explain why you’re here. 

“So what brings you here?” Jennie asks a question she knows the answer to. 

“Uh, I thought Rosie would be in,” You answer, scratching the back of your head. You notice the silent exchange between the two, but the sad smile that forms on Jennie’s face says enough. 

“She’s out at the moment,” Jennie bites her lip, thinking of what to say. “She should be back in an hour or so. You’re more than welcome to stay.”

“I probably shouldn’t,” You sigh, realizing just how stupid it was for you to show up. Your thoughts stray that she’s out with Soohyun, but that leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. 

“She’s having dinner with Soohyun,” Lisa says and you watch Jennie’s eyes narrow, rolling her eyes. 

“Lisa.”

“What? He should know,” The woman shrugs, acting as if it’s not a big deal. 

And it’s not. 

At least, that’s what you’re telling yourself. 

“Rosie can do whatever she likes,” It comes out harsher than you intended, but you’re feeling something that you don’t want to acknowledge. You stand, “I should get going. Uh, you guys can keep those. No need to tell her that’s for her. Sorry they’re not blue Jen,” You add, knowing those are her favorite. 

Jennie gives you a sympathetic smile, shaking her head, “You’re sweet, you know that right?” 

“Sure,” You shrug, walking towards the door. “Sorry to bother you both,” You bow after slipping your shoes on.

“You sure you don’t want to stay?” Jennie asks, meeting you by the door. 

“Yeah, it’s okay. Please don’t tell her,” There’s a fifty-fifty chance Rosie would find out, odds being Lisa telling her where the roses came from. 

“Why not? It’s sweet you brought her flowers.”

“I don’t really have a reason as to why,” You do have a reason, but you’re not sure how much Rosie shares with them. 

Jennie looks like she doesn’t believe you, but she doesn’t press you anymore, nodding. “See you at Mina’s?” 

“Maybe,” You answer vaguely, remembering that you actually have to see your parents this weekend sans the Parks. “I have a business meeting with my parents, so I doubt I’ll make it back in time.” 

“With Chaeng?” Jennie raises an eyebrow. 

“No, just me, so I’ll be in Seong-buk,” You grimace at the thought of having to sit in this, but your father’s adamant it’s good exposure for you. 

“Well I hope you can make it,” Jennie reassures, hugging you briefly before taking a step back. 

“You’ll see me if I do,” You wink. “Thanks again Jen.”

Once the door shuts, you sigh. You couldn’t believe you showed up at Rosie’s place, unannounced. What were you expecting? You’re still not entirely sure, but you’re disappointed nonetheless. It’s almost been two weeks since this arrangement started and you’re scared you’re getting attached. You’ve had longer flings and felt zero attachment to them. 

You question why it feels different, and you toy with the idea of joining Jungkook in Hongdae to remind yourself that you don’t get attached. A wave of guilt passes through you, which you’re torn on what you should do. 

“Fuck it,” You mumble to the empty hallway. 

--

You hear the door knock and pause the show you’ve been sort of watching with Rosie. You’d rather drown in the river than admit you actually like this show. 

You aren’t expecting anyone except the food delivery, so you are surprised when you open the door to see Rosie. 

“Uh hey?” You greet. One look at her and you know she’s upset based on the fire in her eyes. 

“What the fuck,” Rosie spits out. 

Great. Fucking Lisa. 

You aren’t given the chance to ask anything as she barges through the door. You turn around once the door’s shut, and she’s seething. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Why the fuck did you show up at my place?”

“Drop off flowers for Jennie and Lisa,” You answer noncommittally, crossing your arms as you lean against the door. 

“Bullshit. Tell me why,” Rosie steps forward, invading your space. Her perfume makes you dizzy, but you can’t dwell on it too much since she looks like she’s about five seconds away from ripping your head off. 

“What do you want me to say?” You deflect. You didn’t want to get into the reason why—the actual reason—that had you take the train back to yours instead of a club. 

“The fucking truth!” She throws her hands up dramatically, shaking her head. 

“I came over because I wanted to make it up to you for completely knocking out last night, happy?” You roll your eyes, pushing yourself off the door and walking past her. 

“No, I’m not—hey! Get back here, I’m still talking to you,” Rosie’s hand encloses over your wrist. 

The move forces you to turn around, reflexively pulling her into you so that you’re face-to-face. 

“Don’t,” Your voice comes out low. “I’m being honest. Your turn now, why are you here?” 

“Because,” Rosie tries to get out of your grasp, but it’s futile. “As soon as I get home, Lisa fucking singsongs that you dropped by with flowers to see me. Then she told me she mentioned to you that I was out with Soohyun.”

You let go, dropping her hand completely before taking a step back. Hearing his name makes you sick, but you refuse to admit why. 

“How was that?” You ask, tired, because you knew what you signed up for. 

“Do you really want to know?” Rosie crosses her arms, glaring. 

“I don’t, but you’ll tell me anyway.”

“It was good. He’s funny. He’s polite, offered to pay the bill, and walked me to the door,” Each word digs at you, but you don’t let it show. “He wanted to come in to say hello to the girls, but I told him I just wanted to sleep. He asked me out again.”

“And? Is there going to be a second date?” 

“Yes,” Rosie says flatly. 

“Good, happy for you,” You hoped you sounded as detached as possible. “Now you still didn’t answer why you’re here if you ‘just wanted to sleep’?” 

“Because I’ve been fucking frustrated since last night,” Rosie sighs, shaking her head. “I didn’t think I would be, but you fucking fell asleep. I tried dealing with it myself, but that made it worse.” 

All you’re imagining is Rosie, in her bed, touching herself, which has you immediately hard. But you’re a little ticked off at the moment to fully enjoy that imagery.

“Why didn’t you ask Soohyun to help you?” It’s a low blow, but you couldn’t help yourself.

Rosie pushes you, like actually pushes you, with enough force to move. 

“You’re a fucking asshole,” Rosie seethes out, turning to walk out. “I planned on coming over after the dinner for you to take care of the problem you created.”

You’re faster, grabbing her arm to pull her body flush against yours. 

“So you couldn’t cum?” You whisper. 

“Fuck you,” Rosie struggles to get out from your hold, but you have one arm securely wrapped around her waist. 

“I don’t think we’re there yet,” You murmur, “But there is something I still haven’t done.” 

“I’m mad at you,” Rosie ignores your suggestion. 

“If I do what I want to do, I promise you won’t be mad.”

“Doubtful,” Rosie pouts, relaxing into your embrace. 

“I’m sorry,” You mean it.

“I’m still mad,” She huffs, burying her face into your chest. 

“Let me make it up to you,” You tilt her head up, forcing her to look at you. “Please?” 

“Fine. On the condition I sleep over.”

You freeze, vividly remembering the rules you set in place that she wouldn’t sleep over. 

“Our rules?” 

“You broke the first one by coming over without telling me,” She reasons. 

“Do you want to spend the night?” You ask nervously. You hadn’t spent the night with a girl since Nayeon. Every time you had sex, you’d leave before they woke up, or right after. 

“Yes,” Rosie rocks on her tiptoes to kiss you briefly, wrapping her arms around your neck. “It makes things easier for us.” 

“Can I still bring you home in the morning?” You ask shyly, looking away. 

“You better,” Rosie smiles. “I’m still mad though.” 

You roll your eyes, using your strength to pick her up, wrapping her legs around your waist, “I’ll make it up to you.” 

Rosie squeals, hitting your shoulder as you carry her towards your room. “Don’t drop me!” 

You chuckle, shaking your head, as you kick the door open, “You’re fine, trust me.”

You do drop her on the bed and Rosie huffs as she sprawls out on the bed. You take in her appearance—a simple black dress that falls mid-thigh with her hair half-up. She’s beautiful, but you won’t say it out loud—even though you feel like you’ve told her. 

“You’re staring,” Rosie comments, resting on her elbows, a small smile tugging at her lips. 

“Can you blame me?” You drop to your knees, pulling her towards the edge of the bed. “Do you trust me?” You ask softly, locking eyes with her.

“Yes,” And that’s all you need.

— 

You wake up slowly, yawning and stretching. Your arm hits a body, causing you to almost jump when you notice a body’s pressed to your side. You remember that Rosie stayed the night after spending a good amount of time and effort in between her legs. 

She had physically yanked you away from overstimulation, but it was worth it. The sounds she made along with how she tasted was something you wanted to do again. You barely scratched the surface, but you were addicted. 

You had to give her credit because she came three times. You tried to go for a fourth, but she mustered enough strength to kick you away. You wouldn’t let up until she wasn’t mad anymore. By the second orgasm, she wasn’t, but you had to make sure. 

When you were done, cleaning up the mess you made, you kissed her softly as she laid limply on the bed. “Thanks,” She mumbled, sighing contentedly as she played with the hairs on the back of your neck. “I’m not mad at you anymore.” 

“I know,” You smirked, kissing her again before laying your head on the pillow. 

Rosie wanted to return the favor, but you shook your head, embarrassed to share that you were touching yourself while eating her out. She found out anyway because you couldn’t lie to her. It went straight to her head, teasing you that you couldn’t help yourself. She kissed the pout away before falling asleep. 

You check the clock on your nightstand, “Fuck,” You mutter, stirring Rosie awake. 

“What’s wrong?” Rosie’s voice comes out hoarse, slightly turning her body. 

It’s almost noon, and you haven’t finished looking over the reports and proposals your father sent over last night. 

“I’m so sorry,” You sit up, shaking your head in frustration. “I would make you breakfast, but I have to review some things for tonight.” 

“What’s tonight?” You watch her rub her eyes, and you can’t help but think how cute she is. 

“I have a business dinner with my parents.” 

“Oh.”

“Yeah…” You trail off. 

“Do you want me to go with you? I’d just have to stop by my place to change, but I can go,” Rosie offers, turning as she pulls the blanket over her. 

Your heart flutters. If there’s anyone that knows your parents, it’s Rosie. She’s known them since you were kids, seeing just how much pressure was put on you being their only child. It sucked a lot when things changed, but you couldn’t dwell on it that much. You were just trying to appease what they wanted, even though you knew it would never be enough. 

“Alice is home too,” Rosie adds when you don’t respond. “I can just hang out with her until you’re done.” 

“Are you sure?” You didn’t want to impose on her plans for the day. 

“I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t,” Rosie sits up, the blanket falling slightly down her body. You glance and remember she was wearing one of your shirts that was a little too big on her. “Mina’s party is later, so we could go after if you need to blow off steam.”

“We’ll see how I feel,” You scoff, knowing exactly how you’d feel after. “But thanks Chaeng, it means a lot.” 

“Eh, I know how they are, so,” Rosie shrugs, leaning forward to kiss you on the cheek. She rests her head on your shoulder, laying an arm along your stomach. “I’m sorry it hasn’t gotten any better.” 

“It’s okay,” You say a little too quickly, but she doesn’t press the issue, snuggling deeper into your side. “Thanks,” You mumble. 

“You could always do whatever you want, they’d come around,” Rosie suggests, tracing a finger up and down your abdomen. 

“Yeah, like being a photographer would make enough money for them. They’d see it as a hobby, which it is, not as a career,” You say bitterly, shaking your head at the memory of when you suggested it that one time. 

“Well you could always take pictures of me, and you know, I know people in fashion that could see your portfolio.”

“Chaeng, you’ve done enough for me,” You’re shocked that she’d even offer this. You knew that she had connections, but she worked hard for those. It would feel wrong to actually take her up on it. 

“You’ve also done enough for me,” She pokes your cheek. “Just think about it, the offer’s there.”

You don’t know what to say. You deflect with humor and sarcasm because it’s what you know, especially with her, “Careful, it sounds like you actually like me or something.”

“Oh fuck off,” Rosie slaps your chest, giggling. 

She doesn’t confirm or deny it. You’re left wondering if she ever could. 

--

The car’s silent except for the music Rosie asked—demanded—to play, connecting her phone before you could say yes. You’re on your way back to the city, finished with the business meeting with your parents and some overseas executive who brought his daughter too. 

You were completely blindsided. It was a business meeting disguised as a fucking introduction to a ‘potential’ wife that your parents shamelessly arranged on your behalf. You weren’t that much of an ass to be completely rude to the girl—Kazuha—who also didn’t want to be there. She flat out told you what the meeting was, which you appreciated her honesty.

Nakamura Kazuha was pretty, an innocent air around her that would have you interested if it was under normal circumstances. Your parents coincidentally left you alone for a bit to get to know each other, and she seemed like a great person. She was shy, but polite. She was funny, in a quiet sort of way where you had to be paying attention. 

Kazuha told you she had a boyfriend that she wanted to be with; however, her parents didn’t approve. It was a point of contention because it wasn’t like Satoshi was a bad person, he just didn’t meet the standards they had—in other words, not wealthy.

You shared that same sentiment, explaining your last relationship with Nayeon and how she was a great person, but you knew your parents would never approve. 

“Who was that girl you dropped off?” Kazuha asked once dinner was over. Your parents off to the wine cellar. 

What? 

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry,” Kazuha smiled. “We arrived the same time you did and I saw you walk a girl to the house next door.”

“Oh uh that’s Rosie,” You answered vaguely. 

“She’s pretty. Are you two dating?” 

“What? No, she’s just a friend,” You rushed out, but Kazuha wasn’t dumb. She could tell that you weren’t just friends. 

“Interesting. I don’t know many guys who walk friends to the door, but,” She shrugged, “It’s none of my business. That’s sweet of you though.” 

When you only nodded, she smiled again, moving on to talk about other things. The thought of her observation struck a chord, causing you to dwell on it for the rest of the evening. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Rosie’s voice cuts through your thoughts. 

“Do you want to hear about it?” 

“I do,” Rosie nods in your periphery. 

You tell her everything. 

How the meeting wasn’t actually business for your parents. How they purposely set you and Kazuha up. How your father tricked you into preparing for something that was already signed. How your mother boldly asked when you and Kazuha would see each other next—when she lived in another country. How you were pissed and irritated and upset. How you were just tired of it. 

“I mean, fuck, at this rate, I might as well just go along with it because every single choice is made for me,” You hit the wheel while stopped at a redlight. 

“Hey,” Rosie coos, reaching for your hand, the tension melting away from your touch. “Don’t say that.”

“Well it’s not like I have any other fucking choice, unless I end up with someone who’s as rich or richer than my family, they’ll never approve. I’m literally setting up my future wife for a lifetime of disapproval. Look at Minjun, his wife hardly even attends family gatherings,” You scoff. 

You saw firsthand how your cousin’s marriage was affected by someone your family deemed ‘not good enough’. You also admired how Minjun stayed with his wife when everyone, even you, said not too because it wasn’t worth the headache. 

Rosie tugs your hand to look at her, a sad smile etched on her face, “Well then you just haven’t met that somebody yet.”

“How can I when I’m literally getting put into arranged marriages at this point?” You sigh, tired from the dinner. 

“You will, I’m sure of it,” She squeezes your hand, interlacing your fingers together. “You’re smart. You’re kind. And don’t let it get to your head, but you are good-looking. Anyone who gets to be with you would be lucky.” 

Your ears burn from her compliments. The comment of your looks does go to your head, but you don’t want to ruin the moment. 

“Thanks,” You mumble shyly, looking away as you start driving. 

“Are we going to Mina’s?” Rosie asks, keeping your hand on her lap. 

The use of we has you confused. 

“Uh, I was just going to drop you off and stay in. I don’t feel very social anymore. I’m still worked up,” You roll your eyes, turning right onto Mina’s street. 

Rosie squeezes your hand, her thumb rubbing your skin, “Are you sure? It could help you get your mind off things.”

“The only thing that would get my mind off anything is I fuck someone,” You say crassly. 

“I’m right here,” Rosie lets go of your hand, huffing.

“Yeah but I have a bit of aggression at the moment. I can’t exactly take you roughly,” You pull up to the curb, a few houses down from Mina’s. 

“And why not?” Rosie unbuckles her seat belt, crossing her legs on the seat to face you. 

“You think really low of me if I’d have your first time be like that,” You reason, rolling your shoulders as you shut the car off. 

Could you imagine taking Rosie roughly? Absolutely. You know how flexible she is, and you could have fun with her body if she gives you enough time with her. You wanted to prolong this arrangement because time’s running out. You weren’t sure if it would be a one and done type of thing, but you didn’t want to ask. 

“I don’t,” Rosie scoffs, leaning forward to kiss you softly on the cheek. “But I hope we’ll get there.” 

The kiss sends a shiver down your spine, melting into the car seat. You turn to kiss her on the lips, a simple peck that she deepens, pulling you into her that has your body on fire. 

“Can I convince you to stay?” Rosie murmurs, sneaking a hand to your slacks. She palms you through the fabric, causing you to groan against her lips. “I think I can.” Her hand deftly lowers the zipper. 

“Chaeng,” You tear away your lips, head falling back on the headrest as you watch her take your cock out. 

“Yeah?” Rosie moves over the center console, dropping her head. 

“We’re in public,” Your voice comes out hoarse as her head goes lower, tongue slipping out to lick your tip. 

“It’s dark,” Rosie kisses your cock, “Better be quick then.”

In a swift move, Rosie’s mouth encloses over you and you’re a goner. 

--

You laugh at the nonsense Jungkook says in an attempt to distract the pair across the table from missing the shot. It works, and you’re one cup away from winning again.

You feel lighter than you did an hour ago. All thanks to the woman who happens to be sitting very closely to the man she’s interested in. Although, you’re trying your best not to dwell on the sinking feeling in your stomach every time you glance her way. 

“Dude you got it,” You nod to Jungkook who’s a bit drunk, but he swears his coordination gets better the more he drinks. 

Your best friend smirks, winking at the other team before smoothly tossing the ball and it falling perfectly into the lone cup. 

“And that’s game,” Jungkook puffs his chest out while the other two roll their eyes. “Who’s next?” 

“Take Yoongi for this round, I need some air,” You say without waiting for his response. You walk off to the kitchen, grabbing a beer before you make your way to the backyard. 

A few people stop you, mostly girls, asking what you’re doing after. You give a noncommittal answer because you would like to leave with Rosie, but the odds of that happening are low. 

The cool air hits your lungs and you let out a breath. A much needed one with the amount of people that are inside. There’s a few people, but they’re all in their own conversations, not paying you any mind. 

You find an unoccupied couch, deciding to sit alone before Jungkook finds you. You’re not drunk, but you’re not sober either. You’re in that limbo of a few more drinks might put you over the edge. 

Your mind vividly replays Rosie ‘convincing’ you to stay. She didn’t need to do much to get you to cum, but she did well to get you there in less than five minutes. You were almost tempted to say fuck the party and head back to yours, but after she swallowed you for all you had to give, she patted your head and said it was time to go inside. 

“Can I sit with you?” A voice immediately brings you out of your thoughts, your gaze falling on your ex-girlfriend. 

“Sure,” You scoot over, making some room on the couch. 

You take a sip of your beer, letting the bitter liquid sit in your mouth as you gather your thoughts. It wasn’t that it was hard to be around Nayeon, it was just awkward. You two were cordial, and you knew–thanks to Sana–that she wanted to get back together. You tried avoiding her, but running in the same social circle made it difficult. 

“How’s your night?” Nayeon asks after a few minutes. 

“It’s good,” You answer politely. “How about yours?” 

“Same.”

The noise from the house fills the silence when neither of you say anything else. 

You were with Nayeon for almost two years, and there was never a lull in the conversation. She would either be asking you a million questions or she would be telling you about her day in great detail. You tried to be friends with her after you broke up, but you didn’t think it was worth it. 

“How are you and Chaeyoung?” Nayeon asks nonchalantly that you pause mid-sip. 

“What’s there to know?” You finish your beer, placing the glass bottle on the table. 

Nayeon shrugs, sipping her wine, “I saw you two walk in together.” 

“We had dinner with our parents,” You lie, but it was more a half-lie since you actually did have dinner with your parents, just separately. 

Nayeon makes a humming sound before saying, “Your relationship with her was always interesting to me.” When you don’t ask what she means–she’ll tell you anyways–she continues, “I knew you two quote unquote hated each other, but regardless of that, there was always something that made me think you, or her, might’ve had feelings.” 

“What the fuck are you talking about, Nayeon?” You sigh. The way this conversation was going instantly killed your mood. 

“It’s hard to explain,” Nayeon shrugs, taking another sip. “But she likes Soohyun right? Or they’ve gone out together.” 

“I don’t know who Rosie likes, and it’s honestly none of my business,” You were getting irritated, especially since his name was now in the conversation. 

“I’m not saying it is your business, but all I’m saying is to be careful. I just don’t want you to get hurt.” 

“That’s rich coming from you,” You snap. “You literally fucking cheated on me over an argument.” 

“You don’t think I regret that?” Nayeon’s voice cracks. “I’ve regretted that ever since.” 

“It’s too fucking late for that Nayeon, I don’t want to hear it,” You stand, blood boiling. “I’m fucking over this.” 

First the dinner with your parents, now this. You didn’t want to rehash the past with Nayeon. It was over. You got cheated on by a girl who was your first serious relationship, someone you loved, and thought about a future with. Then said-girl was telling you to be careful with Rosie, of all people. 

You knew what you were doing with Rosie, but for Nayeon to say what she said struck a chord.

Why? 

That was something you weren’t ready to admit. 

You walk away from Nayeon, leaving her alone. As soon as you enter the house, Jungkook calls you over, but you beeline for the front door without a second glance at Rosie. 

(But if you did, you would’ve seen her stand up from her seat next to Soohyun.) 

“Hey!” Rosie calls out to you. You don’t turn around, your pace picks up. “Hey, what the fuck happened?” Her hand encloses around your wrist, stopping you as soon as you reach your car. 

“Nothing,” You pull your hand away, jaw clenching as you try to compose yourself. 

“That’s a fucking lie.” 

You turn around, eyes glaring to the same expression, “Just let me be. I don’t want to deal with anyone else tonight.” 

“Too fucking bad, I’m not letting you leave until you tell me what happened,” Rosie crosses her arms. “I also have your fucking keys dumbass.” 

Fuck. 

“Give them to me,” You reach around her, knowing she put it in her back pocket, but she was faster. She took the keys out of her pocket, holding it up in front of your face. “Chaeng.” 

“You’re not fucking driving in this state. You’ve been drinking and you’re obviously pissed for whatever reason. I’m calling us a car and we’ll get yours in the morning. Don’t fucking fight with me about this,” Rosie glares, raising her chin defiantly. 

“Fine,” You roll your eyes, leaning against your car. 

You watch Rosie pull her phone out, calling a car or whatever. The alcohol was catching up to you. You close your eyes, trying to calm your nerves because you were still pissed off. You shouldn’t have taken it out on Rosie, but you weren’t expecting to see her for the rest of the night. 

You feel arms wrap around your back, Rosie’s perfume suddenly invading your senses, as she rests her head on your chest. 

“Let’s just sleep tonight okay?” Rosie whispers against your chest. “You’ve had a long day.” 

“I’m sorry,” You mumble, realizing your mistake. 

“Don’t be,” Rosie’s hand finds its way underneath your shirt, soothingly rubbing your lower back. 

“What about Soohyun?” You ask, doing your best to not sound like you were watching her. 

“He’s not relevant right now,” Rosie says softly, looping her fingers through your belt loop. “I’ll talk to him this weekend.” 

It annoys you a little bit, but you can’t help but think you’ve won some non-existent, one-sided competition with Soohyun. Rosie’s leaving with you and not him. 

You’re treading a thin line, crossing into dangerous territory. You’re hoping that once you have sex, all these feelings and thoughts that have been plaguing your mind will vanish. 

Because getting involved with Rosie was never on your mind. 

--

--

--

(It was way too long to fit in one post -_-)

[vmpiires]

﹆₊ 中毒‧₊˚ ADDICTED TO YOU, KAMO CHOSO

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ﹆₊ 概要 ‧₊˚ touch starved for 150 years. wc, 1.31K. dark mode recommended.

␥ note. i got this idea from a comic strip i saw on twitter by one of my fav chosoyuki ship artists. the second i saw it i knew i had to get on here and type something up. (also i finally figured out how to change the font colors by myself). hope ya enjoyyyyy. reblog to support meeee

␥ tags. modern AU [still a curse], female anatomy, fluff, no smut, etc. lmk if i missed anything

␥ misc. masterlist AO3

it's been three years since you and choso started dating, but you still can't get enough of the way he reacts to your touch. whenever your soft hands brush against his body, you notice him tensing up involuntarily—almost as if it's a reflex. these small, shy gestures from him make you feel incredibly special as you know that it means he trusts you and is comfortable around you. you adore the fact that he still gets flustered around you, even after all this time.

upon your first encounter with choso, you couldn't help but notice his quiet demeanor. it became quite evident that he wasn't much of a talker, and as a result, he often found himself feeling isolated in public areas. except for his conversations with his brother, itadori, there were only one or two other individuals with whom choso conversed. this lack of social interaction left him quite lonely, and it was evident that he struggled to form connections with others.

it was quite apparent that you showed a genuine interest in him from the very beginning. despite being attractive, he always seemed to blend in with the crowd and go unnoticed. it was as if his presence never made any significant impact on anyone.

however, your keen eye picked up on his unique qualities and personality, which made him stand out amongst the rest. he was grateful for your attention, and it was evident that he appreciated it deeply. your interest in him not only boosted his confidence but also gave him a sense of purpose and belonging.

as you approached choso, he flinched and tensed up, clearly caught off guard by your sudden proximity. it was evident that he was not used to being touched outside of battle. however, as you placed your hands on his body, he visibly blushed, his cheeks redder than ever before. he looked at you with a mixture of surprise and confusion, as if he couldn't believe what was happening. for the first time in 150 years, someone had dared to touch him outside of battle, and he was clearly taken aback by the unexpected physical contact.

choso found the entire incident quite peculiar and perplexing. it has been quite some time since that day, yet he can still vividly recall the exact spot where you placed your hand—right on his shoulder. the sensation lingers, almost as if the touch had left a mark deep within him. despite his best efforts, he is unable to shake off the feeling of unease that has settled within him ever since.

your touch is something that he would never forget, and if he said he didn't enjoy it, he'd be lying. you had an undeniable ability to leave a lasting impression on him.

you were working on an important project and stayed up until the early hours of the morning. as the clock struck four, you found yourself lying on the floor next to choso's futon. he was sleeping peacefully, his hair fanned out over the pillow beneath him.

your sleep was restless, and you moved around a lot, which could be quite annoying to others. though, choso didn't seem to mind too much, at least not tonight. suddenly, you accidentally hit the back of his head with your elbow, causing him to wake up abruptly. he looked at you with a stern expression, his lips pursed tightly together as he tried to regain his composure.

choso observed you as you slept and wondered why you hadn't been working on your project that was due soon. his eyelids narrowed into slits, and he rolled his eyes in frustration. he couldn't understand how someone could waste valuable time like this when there was important work to be done.

"hey," choso called your name. "wake-"

before choso could reprimand you for falling asleep, he could feel your arms slide underneath his and wrap around his torso, just beneath his chest. your warm breath against his neck was oddly comforting. choso lay on his futon, flustered and surprised as your grip grew tighter around his body.

the sensation that he was experiencing was completely new to him. it reminded him of the first time you had touched him gently on the shoulder. he let out a deep sigh and turned over, his face sinking slowly into the softness of his pillow. the feeling lingered, and he couldn't help but wonder what it meant. he wasn't sure if it was a sign of something new and exciting, or if it was something to be worried about. the uncertainty weighed heavily on his mind as he drifted off to sleep.

sunlight beamed brightly through the bedroom as morning approached. an alarm from your phone could be heard before instantly shutting it off. while you were sprawled out over the futon, choso was pressed up against you, his arms loosely wrapped around your body and his head buried into the crook of your neck.

as the sunlight filtered through the windows, both of you groaned in unison, your eyes squinting to shield themselves from the bright light in the bedroom. you exchanged a brief glance before you shot up from the bed, stretching your arms and letting out a loud yawn. the warmth of the sun's rays seemed to be beckoning you to start the day.

you found yourself rousing from a sudden nap, feeling disoriented and a bit groggy. you rubbed the tiredness from your eyes, trying to regain your bearings, when you noticed choso sitting beside you, his head propped up with his elbow against the pillow. it seemed that you had blacked out without realizing it.

"damn, i wasn't planning on falling asleep. i didn't even realize i went to sleep until now." you yawn again, holding your hand over your mouth to suppress how loud it is. "how come you didn't wake me up?"

as you locked eyes with him for the second time that morning, he couldn't help but feel a sudden rush of memories from the previous night flooding his mind. his cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he relived those moments in his head, but those feelings quickly dissipated when he forcefully broke contact with you. he rolled his eyes, perhaps trying to shake off that awkwardness and bring himself back to the present moment.

"i was asleep, how could i wake you up?" choso replied, his eyes narrowing slightly. "and how did you end up next to my futon?"

as you sat beside the futon next to choso, you couldn't help but notice his attempts to seem annoyed with your behavior. though, as the night wore on, it became clear that he was struggling to stay awake. eventually, he succumbed to exhaustion and fell asleep, his bare torso exposed to the cool air of the room. seeing him shiver, you gently pulled the sheets over him, tucking him in with care. he had been hugging his own body to keep warm.

"don't know...i was so bored that i didn't know what to do with myself," you replied as you finally stood up, giving yourself another good stretch and kissing choso on his head, gently tugging his jet black locks as you did.

the experience of being hugged after a prolonged period of 150 years was a truly transformative one for him. the male had initially feigned irritation at you succumbing to your sleepiness and falling asleep, but in truth, he was struggling to contain his desire to prolong the embrace.

it wasn't because he was trying to be helpful or responsible in any way, but rather because he simply wanted to bask in the warmth and comfort of the embrace for just a little bit longer. the sensation of having his body hugged after such a long time had shifted his perspective on many things, leaving him feeling a sense of awe and wonder at the power of human connection.

⠀© vmpiires | like, reblog & follow.

[juniperskye]

Stick to What You Know.

Sneak peek: Reader is asked to join the BAU by none other than Director Cruz himself. She is a child psychologist and Cruz thought she would make a great asset; it would seem though that Agent Hotchner doesn’t agree.

Aaron Hotchner x (Fem) Reader

Angst

Word count: 3134

Guys...I feel like this is shit, I wrote it in like 3 hours soo…. it’s not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, implied age gap, some language, one use of y/n I think, Hotch is a DICK in this for a minute (SORRY), reader has children, talk of dissociative identity disorder (in reference to a case), canon case talk/info, mention of murder (in reference to a case), Reader in a child psychologist, reader is friends with Director Mateo Cruz, implied death of Haley. I think that’s all, let me know if I missed anything!!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

You were so late. You were thanking the lord that you knew Mateo well from having previously worked with him, otherwise your lateness would probably come across as a lack of seriousness or appreciation for the strings he had pulled to get you here. And of course, being lost in thought while simultaneously rushing through an unfamiliar building had you barreling into a handsome stranger…or maybe a handsome acquaintance.

“I am so sorry!” You’d hurried out.

His large hands steadied you with a gentle but firm grasp on your arms. Your eyes glance upward to meet his.

“No worries, are you alright?” He offered.

“I’m good thank you. Wait, you’re Aaron Hotchner, I’ve sat in on a few of your lectures at the university.”

“I am, and thank you, I hope you were able to take something from them.”  He blushed.

“I did, oh shoot sorry! I have to go; I am so late!” You said, speed walking away from him.

Aaron couldn’t help but watch as you walked away from him. And you couldn’t help but think to yourself that he was far more handsome up close.

After explaining your tardiness to Mateo, he led you to the sixth floor to officially meet your new team. The rest of them anyway.

“Mat, you told them I was joining right? I ran into Agent Hotchner, and he didn’t show any signs of recognition. And I told you I didn’t want to join a team who wasn’t ready and willing to have me.” You ranted.

“Yes I told him, you have nothing to worry about.” He lied. “You head down into the bullpen and meet the agents; I will go up and talk to Agent Hotchner.”

You nodded in agreement and made your way to Emily and Spencer.  You exchanged greetings, and Emily took you around to meet everyone else.

“Director Cruz, what can I do for you?” Hotch asked.

“I have a new recruit for you. She will be starting today.” Mateo gestured toward the window.

Aaron glanced out, finding the beautiful woman from this morning standing amongst his team. Morgan must’ve tried to harm her because she threw her head back in laughter with the most beautiful smile. Why her? Why did she have to be joining his team?

“Why didn’t I receive her file?”

“Truthfully Aaron, I didn’t have it together. She and I have worked together on some classified cases. But I have a file here with some of her info.  She specializes in child psychology which is something your team is lacking, I figured that she could work with your team on all of your child related cases, but then can occasionally consult with other teams should they need her expertise.” Mateo explained.

“Okay.”

It had been three months since then, and things had not been going well. You had gone on all but one case with the BAU since you’d started. Every single time, Aaron kept you at the local precincts, not allowing you out on any real field work – this was hindering your ability to do your job effectively. You needed to observe the unsub’s home and belongings and dumpsites etc. but he was denying you the opportunity.

The rest of the team had been nothing but welcoming, inviting you into their little family with open arms. None of them could have predicted that Hotch would ice you out the way he was.

Every time you offered a theory or statistic or any sort of information, Hotch shut you down. He would belittle you, constantly making you feel small, and he purposely called you agent instead of referring to you as doctor and well, why should today be any different.

You had been called out on a case and based on all the information the team had acquired so far, you had a pretty good working theory.

JJ, Spencer, and you had been sitting in the room the local precinct had designated as yours for the duration of the case.

“I have an idea…it’s a little out there but hear me out,” You started, your gaze shifting to JJ and Spencer, who both encouraged you to continue. “Okay, so some of the details in this case match, while others are all over the place, like the MO is essentially the same but some of the victims’ injuries show signs of hesitation where others show none, I know hotch mentioned multiple unsubs, but what if it is one unsub, with multiple personalities.”

“Like dissociative identity disorder. You know that would make a lot of sense considering people with DID tend to have highly varying alters or identities. They can range in race, gender, age which would explain why the murders have been so different, it would also explain why the comfort zone is so small.” Spencer validated you.

“See that’s what I was thinking too, they would want to stay close to home in the case that perhaps there was a switch in alter, that way they would be somewhere familiar and be able to return home…”

“That’s enough Agent!” Hotch’s voice boomed through the small room. “I have put up with this for far too long. You came in here unannounced and have continued to provide absolutely ridiculous theories that do nothing but waste our time and resources…”

“Hotch” JJ tried to calm him.

He lifted his hand to silence her before continuing, “You have continued to get in the way of my investigations again and again and I won’t have it anymore. Cruz spoke so highly of you and frankly I don’t see it. I’m sorry if I’m the first one to tell you this agent, but perhaps you should stick to what you know.” Hotch finished.

There was no way in hell that you were going to let yourself cry in front of this asshole. You refused to let him win in this moment.

“You know what Agent Hotchner, I have done nothing but work my ass off for this team and I have provided valuable feedback and information that has led to the capture of multiple unsubs over the last few months. But if you want to sit up there on your high horse and act all delusional, go ahead. I don’t want to be a part of a team who is led by someone so pompous and misogynistic. And one last thing, if you are going to sit there and berate me then you will address me properly. It’s Doctor, not agent…I know that may be hard to remember since it’s a title you don’t hold. Goodnight.” With that you grabbed your jacket and bag and made your way outside.

You ordered an uber and made your way back to the hotel. The nerve Hotch seemed to have filled you with rage, but you wouldn’t stick around to entertain his outburst any longer, you had a call to make.

“Hello?”

“Mat, I need a flight home.” You said, the tears finally beginning to fall.

“Is everything okay? What happened?” Mateo questioned.

“It’s fine, I just have a personal emergency and I need to get home as soon as possible.”

“Sure thing, I am booking your flight now, can you be at the airport in two hours?” He asked.

“Yes, that’s perfect. Thank you.”

With that you hung up the phone, packed your bag, ordered another uber and made your way outside. You were purposely ignoring the texts coming in from Spencer and JJ. You made sure to slide a note under Spence’s door before leaving.

“Has anyone seen y/n this morning?” Dave asked.

“She left.” Spencer confirmed, holding up the note.

“What why? Is she okay?” Emily asked, concern laced in her tone.

“I can’t blame her. You guys should have seen it, Hotch yelled at her. And I mean full on yelled. I’ve never heard him speak that way to anyone before.” JJ chimed in.

“What are you talking about? He yelled at her. About what?” Morgan questioned.

“He completely flew off the handle. She and Spence were going over a theory about the unsub and he just started yelling, telling her that she was wasting our time and resources.”

The team was in disbelief, Hotch wasn’t mean or condescending, so why was he acting this way now? How could he treat arguably the sweetest member of the team so disrespectfully?

Dave shook his head; he was pretty sure he knew exactly why Aaron was acting out this way. He just couldn’t believe that Aaron had said such harsh things to the girl. His heart broke for her knowing that someone she idolized had been so awful to her, and for all the wrong reasons.

The team had wrapped up that case fairly quickly, you had been right, and the unsub turned out to be a nineteen-year-old male who had been struggling with dissociative identity disorder. Hotch had felt uneasy knowing that he had questioned your intelligence, despite you being an excellent agent.

Upon returning to the BAU, Dave was sure to confront Aaron about his inappropriate behavior.  Telling him that he couldn’t treat you terribly just because he couldn’t wrap his brain around the feelings for you he was refusing to acknowledge. Aaron had scoffed at him and told him that he didn’t have feelings for you, but Dave knew he was lying.

You had quite a different experience since returning. The first thing you did was cry, you let yourself release all the pent-up frustration you’d been holding onto since you had started at the BAU. Then, you texted Mat, letting him know that you needed to meet with him.

He was curious and waiting for answers, but he ultimately agreed and waited to ask all his questions until you were face to face.

“So, what’s up? This meeting request was so formal.” Mat laughed.

“I know and I am sorry I have been so vague about everything, but I am here to resign.”

Mat’s smile fell from his face immediately.

“What happened? Did something happen, because I promise you I have looked into the complaints filed against Agent Morgan and Ms. Garcia and I can assure you, they just have a strange friendship.” Mateo tried to explain.

“Mat, slow down! It isn’t like that. I just don’t think it is a good fit, there’s just too many differences between how I work and how the team operates. It’s okay really.” You tried to smile to really sell your lie.

“Well, I can’t help but be disappointed, I really thought that you would be a perfect fit for this team.” Mateo trailed off.

“I know and I am so sorry. I know you had to pull a ton of strings to get me here and I don’t want it to seem like I am not grateful because I can assure you, I am!”

“I know, and it’s alright! If it’s not a good fit then it’s not a good fit.” Mateo flashed you a sad smile.

A few weeks had passed since you had left the BAU, and truly, you had been doing well! You had spent some much-needed time with your family. You had reached out to a good friend of yours and inquired about a job teaching at the local university, which you were truly looking forward to. It had also meant that you would have a free summer to spend some quality time with your kids.

Tonight, you had one of your best friends over, your kids had grown up together and so you liked to do these big “family” dinners together at least once a month, that however meant chaos in the house. Kids yelling, teenagers gossiping, dinner burning…I guess that means you’ll be ordering a pizza.

Your friend and you had been talking about your new job and the excitement you were feeling for it, a movie long forgotten playing in the background, the kids were playing some card game you didn’t recognize when the doorbell rang.

“Oh, I bet that’s the pizza!” You said, making your way to the door.

“I left the cash on the table there!” Your friend shouted.

“Hi…Oh. What the hell are you doing here?” Shock painted its way across your face. Standing at your door was not the pizza delivery guy, but Aaron Hotchner.

“I uh, I came here to talk to you. I know that I do not deserve your time, but I am truly hoping you’ll allow me a few minutes to explain myself.”

“Dude, do you need help or…oh, shit. Sorry! Did you guys need a minute?” Your friend interrupted.

“Um” your gaze shifted from Aaron to your friend. “Agent Hotchner, why don’t we go to the back. Can you keep an eye out for the pizza?” You suggested.

“Of course! You go.” She replied.

Aaron and you made your way to the backyard, in doing so he took note of all the children sitting in the living room, sprawled out across the floor and couches.

“I didn’t know you had children.” Aaron started.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me. Is that why you came here agent Hotchner? To see my home and profile me?” You questioned him.

“No of course not! I was making an observation. I’m sorry. Like I said, I am here to explain my behavior, none of which will excuse how I acted but I am hoping it might help you to understand some of it.” His gaze shifted around your face. “From the moment I first laid my eyes on you, I knew I was ruined. You were breathtaking, even when you plowed right into me in your rush to the director’s office. You bumped into me and God, then you looked up at me with those big, beautiful eyes and I was a goner. But then you said something to me, and I knew I was done for. Do you remember what you said?”

“I apologized and then I told you I’d gone to some of your lectures. Hold on Agent Hotchner are you saying you were horrible to me because you had a crush on me? What are we? Seven-year-olds on the playground! That is such bullshi….” He didn’t let you finish.

“Hold on. You did mention that you had been to my lectures, but it was what you said as you walked away that had me hooked…you said, “he’s far more handsome up close” and I don’t think you meant to say it out loud, but at that moment I told myself that I was ready. I was ready to move on and I was going to ask you out later that day, but then you walked into the bullpen and Cruz said you’d be a part of the BAU, and I knew it wouldn’t be possible. I couldn’t date my subordinate and I didn’t know what to do, you had called me handsome and I…”

“Now wait a minute! I didn’t mean to say that out loud and this still isn’t…”

“I’m not finished. You had some sort of attraction for me even if it was just an appreciation for my looks. I already had it bad for you, and to top it all off, you came in and just had to be the sweetest, most loving person in the BAU and I couldn’t have you. It wouldn’t be appropriate. I figured the easiest thing to do would be to make you hate me, then I’d be able to shake these feelings for you, but no. You continued to be kind to me, even if I was awful to you and I couldn’t take it. My breaking point was the look on your face after I yelled at you on that last case. I felt sick with myself. I couldn’t leave things like that; I needed you to know that I don’t think those things. You are an incredible agent and an even better person and I’m sorry. I am so sorry.” Aaron finished, looking down at his shoes.

You were speechless. While it felt amazing that the man you had harbored feelings for, returned your feelings. It also felt terrible that he wasn’t mature enough to just be upfront with you from the beginning. Instead, he felt the need to play some arduous game with you. It would be so easy to just throw yourself into his embrace and kiss him and call it all forgotten, but what if this is some insight into his communication skills, or lack thereof?

Your mind and heart were battling one another like an angel and devil on your shoulder. It was a back-and-forth quarrel that seemingly had no correct response, both had the same potential outcomes; you getting your heart broken, regret, potential happiness. What were you meant to do?

“I um, I don’t know what to say. You said some horrible things to me and that doesn’t just go away. Agen Hotchner, we’re adults.”

“Please call me Aaron, or at least Hotch.”

“Aaron we are adults and you acted like a child. Am I meant to just forgive and forget the way you made me feel?”

“No, I would never expect that. I do hope that one day you can forgive me, and if you give me the chance, I would truly love to make it up to you.” He explained.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” He questioned.

“Okay, you can make it up to me. And maybe, just maybe I will forgive you. It’s not going to be easy though.” You said.

“I wouldn’t want it to be easy.” He smiled.

“Alright well you can start tomorrow. I’d invite you to stay but this is a family dinner and with all the kids it might be a bit chaotic.” You told him.

“That’s fair.”

You could see the wheels turning in his head, he’s trying to figure out the dynamics of your little family, and maybe you could spare him a little bit of leeway.

“Her and I combined have nine kids. I have five and she has four. And before you ask, only two are biologically mine. A close friend of ours passed and I was listed as the personal guardian for her kids. That’s also how I have a teenager.” You explained. “That’s all you get for now.” You teased.

“I will take what I can get. Thank you, for giving me this chance.” Aaron smiled at you.

You smiled back and led him to the door, not missing the shit-eating grin your friend was wearing on her face. You bid him goodnight with a promise to text him to make some sort of plan. You didn’t know what would come of this, or if you’d end up together, but for now, you didn’t need to know. For now, you’d take it one day at a time.

[randombush3]

a sense of coming home

ona batlle x reader

summary: part two of this! ona and you are (frustratingly) still just friends

words: 6.5k (i have NO idea why i waffle so much but lets pls allow it)

warnings: there's like five secs of smut at the end

notes: this has been the most self-indulgent fic i've written because this is how i met my gf and so i am glad to show you a nice happy ending

again, the quote is from 'this side of paradise' (said gf's fav book - i don't recommend however because the protagonist is a twat)

also i didn't proofread bc i am exhausted and i am hungover and i am very ready to go to sleep (#globetrotting is not for the weak) x

There is something difficult about forcing oneself back to their toxic roots. Ona discovers as such as she presses her body into a temple of meaningless sex, but she does so because she is a driven person. Ona is determined to get over you, once and for all, except she’d quite like to stay friends (hence why she agreed when asked). She also thinks it would expose her to fall out because her feelings shouldn’t have existed anyway, so she technically shouldn’t be heartbroken? 

Anyway, Ona rampages through Manchester! They appreciate her accent – some even ask her to speak to them in Spanish when she is three fingers deep inside of them, to which she obliges with little fanfare – and it isn’t like the city lacks queer women. It is a super solid way to keep her busy, to tear her attention from hungrily checking your Instagram whenever possible. 

It’s also what lands her with coronavirus. She’s embarrassed to admit just how many people she has come into contact with when the club doctors ask her questions over the phone.

You send her a lovely message after hearing she is yet another fallen soldier. 

Ona is at home, isolating, and you are apparently trapped in Spain, unable to get into Italy. You haven’t quite made it to your parents’ house since your flight was supposed to depart from Madrid. “How come you’re not on the phone to one of your ‘connections’?” Ona asks suspiciously, wondering why this call has lasted longer than ten minutes. “Surely someone knows someone else and they can get you back home.” 

“I’m hardly out of my depth in my own country,” you remind her with a twinging sigh, pained that she has suppressed all memories of your childhood. “It’s not like I don’t speak Spanish.” 

“Didn’t you get rid of it in your head to make space for Italian and English? Oh, and French too, right? That’s where the fashion weeks are.” 

You laugh at her pride for knowing something about your job, but it is not to ridicule her. “I am speaking to you, aren’t I?” 

“In Catalan,” she points out. “Forget Spanish, but don’t forget Catalan.” 

“I can’t. It’s the language everyone uses to tell me about how fucked you’ve been lately.”  You take in a deep breath, uncomfortable with Ona’s silence but knowing your piece needs to be said. “Are you aware of what happened a few months ago? Why I missed the wedding?” One of your friends met her dream man and he whisked her off to Menorca for a small ceremony. Only the people she loved the most were invited, which included your childhood friend group. “We were in New York, a whole bunch of us. It was late but the show had been a big deal so we went out to celebrate, and… these ‘friends’, these people, they aren’t the same as you and me. Most of them are English, you know, and they come from very fancy schools where addiction is normal. Two of them ended up in the hospital that night – the bag hadn’t even made it round to me by the time they’d dropped. I know it seems far-fetched, but all I’m trying to say is that addiction has consequences. Bad consequences.” 

“So you’re not on my side?” Ona isn’t taking this too seriously. A few people have joked about her questionable new hobby, but no one has made it seem so dire that they have needed to get you involved. You who, of course, Ona will listen to. 

“I am always on your side.” 

That is her main take-away from the conversation, Ona chooses, when it ends an hour later. She swoons, meaning the last twenty women have been a waste of time, but she also tortures herself into ignoring the potential problem. Being a sex addict would be embarrassing, so she won’t be. 

Though your subtle shaming for her abundance of quick-fix flings is hypocritical, Ona would also hate for you to see her that way. You can avoid commitment all you like, but she is determined to be different to prove to you that she is a viable candidate, should you wish to stop stringing her along. It’s probably toxic; it probably means that you are both clinging onto a friendship that should either end or be labelled something else. It probably is the push and pull that has kept you interested, Ona thinks, because she knows that you like the chase. 

However, as much as she’d like to be freed of whatever game she is caught up in, she can’t seem to let you go like that.

… 

The next time Ona and you have a proper conversation about something other than how your love lives have been stunted or how people back home are not as successful as the two of you is when most of the restrictions have been lifted. 

You waited out the pandemic in Vilassar de Mar, much to your annoyance, but now that you can travel again, the first person on your mind to visit is your childhood best friend. You’re not as close as you used to be, having drifted further during even more years apart, but it does not dull your love for her, nor hers for you. 

Ona has changed her mind about Manchester and is forcing herself to like it. It works enough for a visit from you to be the last thing on her mind, and so she slows her response time down until the next arranged date to see each other in person is all set for the summer before the Euros in England.

You’re not quite home but you are in the country, and, with the pre-Euros camp in two days, Ona is spending the final few hours of calm left before the storm in the comforting presence of her mum and dad. 

And… you, apparently. 

“You weren’t supposed to be here yet,” is Ona’s greeting when she opens the front door. 

Your smile is wide and genuine, and you are holding a gift bag in one hand. There is a nice bottle of wine in the other. “Not even an ‘hola’?” When no reply comes, you swallow the emotions that have arisen; the ones that are maybe, just a little bit to do with how soft Ona looks with her hair down. And the slope of her jaw. And the ghosts of defined biceps that bulge even when she isn’t flexing her arms. “I’m dropping by to see your parents. I thought you were in Barcelona with your footballer friends.” 

“You visit my parents?” asks Ona curiously. 

“Of course.” 

With that, you side-step her and call out to her mother, announcing both your arrival and your desire to hand them their gifts. Dinner is just about to be served, and Ona is soon tasked with setting another place at the table for you as though the last ten years had never happened and your friendship hadn’t lost its innocence. 

Maybe it would be better for Ona to not know what it feels like to kiss you, to touch you, to – dare she think it – love you. It would certainly make things less painful, and would have saved her from catching at least one illness and spending a good amount of money on Ubers to escape from random apartments. It would make it easier to listen to you talk about your life in Milan, where you seem to exist in a bubble of incredibly attractive people who are desperate to hold hands and form a raft. 

“Modelling can be brutal,” you agree, nodding at Ona’s father as you follow on from his concerns about your career. He voices them regularly; whenever you see him. Ona realises you have spent a lot of time with her parents without her. “It gets quite competitive between the girls so I’ve been somewhat avoiding them. They’ve brought in someone new, scouted from Germany, I think, and I’m a little worried that I’ll have to switch agencies if they start prioritising her.” You glance at Ona, wanting to know if she is listening, hoping she is. You wish that she were as good at suppressing her feelings as you are. You wish she didn’t look at you like you hung the moon, because you know that you have to tell her you have hung it for someone else. “I’d move tomorrow, to be honest, but I’ve started seeing this guy and he’s convincing me to stay in Milan.” 

“The minute he is your boyfriend, you bring him here,” commands Ona’s mother in a tone she hasn’t yet used on her actual daughter (said daughter has never mentioned anyone before). “Show us a picture of him! Is he a model like you?” 

He is, and if Ona holds her fork tighter after she sees the photo you pull up, that is her business. You secretly take in her clenched jaw and furrowed eyebrows, and this might be the worst thing you have ever had to do. To see her so defeated, so hopeless, is upsetting, especially since you are harbouring the same feelings. However, you are able to admit when it is time to throw the towel in, and you can no longer live like this. 

Ona is too perfect for you. She is driven, hard-working, and funny. She likes to nutmeg little children on the street, and she likes to buy them an ice-cream if they slip a goal past her, slotting the flat footballs into imaginary nets and celebrating as though they have just won the Champions League. She knows a lot, more than she thinks she does. She cares about people, but sometimes it manifests in anger, in frustration. 

Any aspect of her is an aspect that you could love, and that is reason enough not to. Because how can you allow yourself to taint such perfection? 

But, in this unspoken rejection, the compliment is obscured from the recipient’s view. All Ona sees when you gush about how he buys you flowers and takes you out to dinner, is a burning, bright question. It flashes red and yellow, both as a warning and cry for attention. How can she compete if you don’t even recognise her as a competitor? 

…

“--And then they proceeded to finish a film they were halfway through as if it were the most normal thing ever,” Ona rants the minute she hits the concrete of Las Rozas, walking into the facility with Aitana and the other girls who travelled with her from Barcelona. Only the midfielder has been gracious enough to listen to the entire monologue, but the others joke that that is because Ona’s emotional state has led her to spiral in her native language. It is forbidden for them to openly speak Catalan in the Spanish camp, according to Jorge Vilda, who loves to hurl a ‘we can send you back to where you came from in an instant’ their way if he so much as hears a ‘bon dia’. Naturally, Aitana doesn’t give a fuck about the rule, although Ona chooses to believe that she is listening because she cares.

“Are you done?” Aitana asks thoughtfully, sucking on her bottom lip as she tries to absorb her friend’s crisis and formulate a valid, sensible response. The two have known each other for a while now, and Aitana remembers a time when Ona was relentlessly teased by their older teammates for being in love with her best friend. It is clear to her that those feelings never ceased, though she has heard through the grapevine (Leila Ouahabi) that you are now a model and you live somewhere in Italy. You’re part Italian, is what Leila also claims, having professed your ethnicity to a small huddle of fellow gossipers one day in the gym at the Barça training facility. 

“No! Nothing is ever done with her. It’s viscous and it continues in a horrid cycle that has me flapping around in circles like some idiot. I am one of her boys.” Ona groans dramatically, the sound perhaps a little too loud. A few of the girls in front of them turn around to see why a cat seems to have been strangled, but they quickly lose interest when they see it is just Ona and her disastrous situation. “Do you know how fucking humiliating it is to be one of her guys? I am a professional footballer! I play for Manchester United, one of the most historic clubs in the world, and I am about to represent my country in a major tournament. I am successful, Aita, and yet I am still not enough for her.” 

“Maybe she only likes men.” 

“A man has never made her scream like I have,” she bites back. Aitana blushes, but Ona is too far gone in her rage to hear her crudeness nor preserve her friend’s sanity. “She’s been like this since she decided she was gay! Isn’t that hilarious? ‘Ona, I think I’m gay’, she said. I know lesbian breakups can be hard, but there is no way my cousin fucked her up to this extent.” 

“I can’t help you with this, Oni,” Aitana laments, sorry to have to confess this to her friend. “I think you need to talk to her about it. A proper conversation to fix long-term issues, not like the ones you obviously had when agreeing to stop having sex and things like that. Only she knows what she’s thinking.” It is definitely not the advice Ona wants to hear, but she cannot deny the midfielder’s wisdom. “But for now, we focus on winning.” 

…

You are more than a little confused. 

To start from the beginning, Ona’s cousin fucked you up. She broke your heart, and that first impression of dating girls was incredibly traumatising. With girls, you don’t just kiss and sleep with them, you get close – really close – and then when you break up, it is like you have lost both a girlfriend and a best friend. 

Men are a lot simpler. Men like you and they aren’t shy about it. They can sometimes be just as cruel, but you have never felt invested enough to care too much. 

Some nights, you don’t fall asleep, tossing and turning between your sexual identity, aware that you don’t need to label it but desperate to… discover yourself. If you don’t understand that part of you, how will someone else? How can you be loved? How do you even know who you want to love you? 

For as much as Milan is great, it definitely doesn’t help you with your crisis. Girls in Milan like to do what they want. It is not uncommon for the models to kiss each other in clubs, in front of appreciative male gazes or not, and then reveal their engagement to their future husband the very next day. It’s easy to be drawn into such a bubble, but the minute you step out of it, you are hit with the real world. 

It’s what makes the pandemic so distressing for you personally, because you are forced to live like normal people for some time. Your eyes are held open and the question is shoved down your throat, and it really doesn’t help that Ona’s cousin never moved out of Vilassar de Mar. 

She sees you one day, saying hello from a suitable distance as you pick up milk as per your mother’s request. “I heard you’re modelling?” she asks with no agenda, no seductive glint in her eye. You notice the ring on her finger, and she feels the heaviness of your staring. “Oh, I got married a year ago. Did Ona not tell you?” 

You realise that you and Ona try to avoid talking about anything other than the love interests you have. “No, she didn’t. Congratulations, though. She’s a lucky woman.” 

“You don’t have to pretend you’re happy for me,” laughs the woman opposite you, amused and somewhat apologetic. “Look, I’m really sorry for how I acted when we were younger. I was definitely not the most mature person out there, and I know I hurt you.” 

“I cried for months.” 

“I’m sorry,” she repeats. You suck in a deep breath, trying to hold the memories of your pain at bay. “The first breakup is usually the worst but at least it gets better, as you probably know.” 

She looks at you expectantly, awaiting your confirmation. It never comes. 

“I haven’t dated another girl since,” you tell her, sounding rather detached from yourself. 

Her eyebrows furrow and she is clearly frowning behind her facemask. “What about Ona? I thought you were together when you lived in Madrid. It takes more than a friendship to do what you did.” 

You were originally going to go to university in England. It was your dream, and Ona wasn’t entirely aware of the situation because you hadn’t wanted to tell her you were leaving. Then she was sent out on a professional contract to Madrid, and it wasn’t like you were the only one leaving. 

Ona’s cousin, years ago, had suggested that you go to Madrid if you wanted to get away from Vilassar de Mar. “You’ll be close enough to come home when you’d like, but not so close that you’ll feel as though nothing has changed,” she had said. 

No one had known about your offers in England aside from your parents. And Ona’s cousin, who’d only found out because you had called her, drunk on celebratory champagne, because you had to tell someone. 

“You gave up a dream for her because you didn’t want her to be alone.” 

“I moved to Milan. In the end, she was alone.” 

“You sound like you regret it,” she replies, nodding once at you to bid you farewell and then heading over to a woman who is standing with a puppy in her arms. You watch as she pulls down her mask and kisses her wife, her eyes shining with love and happiness, and your blood runs green with jealousy. 

You hate Ona’s cousin for devastating you once more. 

Do you regret it? 

It’s unclear. 

You try to make sense of it when you don’t hesitate to fly back to Italy the minute you can, going home to lick your wounds at Ona’s non-committal response to meeting you when you are in London the next month. It hurts that she is no longer at your beck-and-call, but you are somewhat happy for her. You know that lines have been crossed and that she has suffered for it. You know that you are probably the one at fault here. 

This time in Milan, you don’t fight it as much. You kiss other girls and let them go home to their boyfriends; you submit to the thing you had convinced yourself you would never become. 

As you drive yourself deeper and deeper into your stereotype, the thought of Ona gets pushed away and newer, more culturally-acceptable fantasies come to mind.

It takes a photoshoot for him to ask you out on a date. 

It takes returning home and gaining the approval of Ona’s parents (who are far more open than your own) for you to agree to be official. 

You don’t ask Ona what she thinks. She’s busy, you reason, because she is representing Spain at the Euros. She won’t care who you are dating and she certainly doesn’t need it rubbed in her face. 

There are many reasons why you go out with him. 

One is that you do like him; he’s nice, he’s funny, he treats you well. (He’s not Ona.) Another is that rent is going up and him sharing the load is helpful. (He’s not Ona.) There is also that he is very popular within the agency, and your chemistry on camera is enough to keep your jobs rolling in and casting directors satisfied. 

He’s not Ona. You know that. 

That's the whole point. 

If he were Ona, you’d be deeply in love with him. If he were Ona, you would never leave the house, never leave his embrace, never leave the little bubble created when it is just the two of you and no one else. If he were Ona, you would be excited about the conversations he gently guides you into; marriage, children, where you are going to live one day. You’d miss him more when he isn’t here. You’d care. 

But you just… don’t. 

Another year passes, more Ona-less than the last, and then she is suddenly coming back home to Barcelona, a medal around her neck and word of a relationship floating above her head. 

You could ask her about it if you wanted to because she is still one of your closest friends, but the truth is, you really, desperately don’t want to hear it. While Ona has been falling in love with someone else, you have been proving your stupid feelings to yourself. 

The act (your current relationship) lowers enough for you to go home for Christmas. You leave Milan as though fleeing from a hurricane, and you refuse to control the damage until you have entered the new year. Your parents aren’t entirely sure they want you moping about the house, confused how someone so successful can revert to a moody teenager the minute they are back in safe territory, and they heavily encourage you to accept an invite that was extended out to you a few months ago. 

Your friends are going skiing in Andorra, and they’d like for you to come with them. 

“Ona won’t be there,” one of them regretfully informs you. “She said she doesn’t want to make things weird. She has a girlfriend – or, I don’t know, a talking stage. She wants you to have fun.” 

“But Ona and I are friends,” you try to explain, feeling exposed by the look of pity she gives you; the same look someone receives when they find out their ex has gotten married or something similar. As a defensive mechanism, you hastily pull out your phone and dial her number. Everyone watches you, now uninterested in their food as you dine and plan your holiday. 

Ona picks up on the third ring, escaping her dinner with Lucy and rushing into the cool, nighttime air of Barcelona. 

“Hi?” she says – asks – with raised eyebrows, wondering if you’re in danger. 

“You’re coming skiing with us, aren’t you?” 

Your friends hide their laughs behind their hands, surprised by how firm your tone is. You do not need it for Ona, because she does anything you say regardless, but they enjoy seeing this side of you. This is someone who has had to fend for herself in a foreign country. 

Removing the phone from her ear for a moment, Ona sighs, disappointed in herself. 

“Yeah, of course. I’ve missed you, you know.” 

…

Skiing is not something Ona is really allowed to do. As a footballer, her legs are what pay her wage. Career-destroying planks of metal are not the best way to spend the dying embers of the year. She knows that. She does, she swears, but she is so eager to go that Jonatan cannot crush her dreams. He tells her, “if you get injured your contract will be reviewed, Ona Batlle,” and she promises him that it won’t happen. Nothing bad is going to happen. 

It will be the first time she has spent more than a day with her childhood friends, and she is unbelievably excited. 

Lucy finds it adorable and makes it known, helping her pack for her trip, versed in what to bring because her sister skis or something like that (Ona can’t really focus on her almost-girlfriend's monologue). Lucy likes Ona a lot, and it makes her stomach flutter when she thinks about Ona and her friends talking about them. She’s sure her feelings are reciprocated, and she cannot wait for Ona to return to her in the new year, all smiles and lingering hangovers, and ask her to be her girlfriend. Officially. 

Your friends convene in the centre of Vilassar de Mar with two cars between you. There are ten people coming. 

Someone, most-likely trying to keep the peace, instructs Ona into one vehicle and you into the other. The drive isn’t too long, but you suppose that the tension is uncomfortable for those who aren’t accustomed to maintaining a friendship despite the weight of it. 

It’s five days, and you are determined to have fun. 

Ona is naturally good at this, although she claims it is her first time. You, living in Milan, are just as advanced. 

By the third day, the both of you agree that going off together to do some of the harder runs will be harmless. Spending the day together won’t feel like a date or a romantic holiday. Watching Ona glide over the compacted snow won’t be attractive, watching her cocky smirk as she scales the bumps along the side of the piste won’t do anything. 

It won’t. (It does.) 

And it just has to be the third day that someone pulls out two bottles of tequila and a drinking game that is going to ensure every single one of you is off your face by midnight. 

In rooms opposite one another, you and Ona call your respective partners and tell them about how great a time you are having, actively avoiding telling them about who you spent the day with as though it counts as cheating. It doesn’t, technically. Nothing has happened. But, still, it feels intimate and secret; forbidden. 

Then, there is a shout that rings through the house. Everyone comes to the table; the party has begun. 

Ona finds out that she is absolutely terrible at drinking games, and loses in every way possible. 

You find out that she is still just as touchy when she is drunk. 

Your friends try not to comment on it, all having agreed upon yet another passive role in such an irritating situation. Their non-interference almost ceases by the time Ona climbs onto your lap, head turning as she whispers something into your drunk ears, making you laugh privately. In fact, someone has to hold someone else back before they shout at the two of you to make out or break up. 

But it’s not really necessary, their prompting, because it hits a certain hour and… nothing else matters anymore. 

Ona has been touching you the whole night and you have finally reached your limit. 

Boyfriend be damned, you lead her to your bedroom. 

She asks you many times if you still want this, and you cannot think of anything to say other than ‘yes’. 

You’re not as drunk as she is, and you both know that, but everything feels so perfect and right. 

When you wake up the next morning, your anger is more at yourself than the sleeping woman beside you, but she is an outward target for such a boiling emotion and it just makes things easier. 

“Ona.” You shake her awake, not caring for her hangover. “Ona, I can’t believe we’ve done this.” She rubs her eyes, dazed and confused for a moment but coming to her senses soon enough. “I have a boyfriend, Ona, and… I don’t like you like that.” 

It’s not true. 

It’s really, really, really not true, but the fact that you have said it is enough for Ona to leave your room with the intention of never seeing you again. 

She gets the train back to Barcelona, turning up at Lucy’s flat in floods of tears, and barrels straight into those strong arms with the intention of never mentioning what she has done. 

…

You break up with your boyfriend a month later. Or rather, he breaks up with you, tired of being messed around, tired of your hesitation to fully commit. 

The break-up is not the most upsetting thing you’ve been through, but your ego is a little bruised.

You try to make it look like you are having a great time in Milan, even though the agency has once again discarded your file and overlooked you for shoots you used to book in an instant. You try to seem like things aren’t falling apart, but it’s of no use when your father calls you and tells you that your mother is ill. 

It isn’t cancer but it’s similar, and you know that you need to come home.

You pack your bags and leave without a second thought, because maybe Madrid was far enough. Maybe there is a reason Ona signed for her home club again and most of your friends still live relatively close to their parents. 

Maybe you are not meant to be separated from those you love, because running away is futile if you are always going to end up together again. 

In Barcelona, a modelling agency eagerly draws up a contract with you. Although you are from there, your career being based in Milan previously creates an international allure about you (or so they say), and you are assured that work is going to rush towards you as though someone has just knocked down a dam. 

Your job is secured, your mother begins treatment, but there is something you cannot shake off. 

It hurts to think of Ona, to think of how you left things, but it helps, too. Seeing her face in your mind is comforting. You hear her voice as you drift off to sleep, and you let it soothe you in your dreams. 

“Ona has a girlfriend,” her mother tells you when you next visit them. Her frown is unexpected because all she has ever wanted is for her children to be happy and loved. “It’s not right, it doesn’t feel right.” You begin to shrug your shoulders and crawl into your shell, but she interrupts your thought process; “I think you should go see her.” 

“Why?” 

The woman rolls her eyes. “Just do what I say.” 

You nod because she is so scarily sure about it, and you… It’s hard to believe, but you call Ona. 

She picks up. 

“I was sorry to hear about your mum.” 

“Don’t worry. She’s fine.” 

“Are you back at home?” 

“Yeah, I am.” You pause. “Well, not quite. I’m living in Barcelona.” 

Something fizzes in the air; pops, crackles. 

“Need me to show you around the city?” 

And it’s Ona, so how could you say no? 

…

Your visit goes very well. 

She takes you out to dinner and shows you around her neighbourhood. She introduces you when she runs into people she knows, and she is insistent about dragging you to her football match on the weekend. 

Everything is seemingly forgiven and Ona is intent on integrating you back into her life. 

She wants you to feel at home, though she knows you should already, and she wants to lessen the stress of hospital appointments and death and, if not death, then a difficult recovery. 

You are sitting in her apartment – now devoid of all signs of Lucy – on her comfortable sofa, watching something together after a day of walking around and sealing up the cracks that formed in Andorra.

Sitting leads into cuddling and then into wandering hands that eagerly roam underneath layers of fabric.   

Ona’s breath hitches as you brush the hard lines of her abs, your hands particularly drawn to them and just how strong she has become. “You must have only felt them on men,” she offers as an explanation. “How many have you slept with in comparison to–?”

And your hands stop.

“Sorry,” Ona mumbles, seemingly upset at her outburst. “I’m just curious. I can’t work you out.” She can’t quite look you in the eye, mainly due to the logistics of your position, but she isn’t sure she wants to see the truth attached to her statement. 

You question if that’s a good thing, the fact she needs to ask; the fact that she has no choice but to communicate. It was going to happen sooner or later. “A few,” is what you settle on. Ona leaves it at that, carefully pulling the hair tie from your plait, unravelling it with one hand as the other rests against your stomach in an embrace. You smile. “You’re not going to ask who?” 

Her fingers stop for a moment. “No.” She speaks so quietly, her voice almost a whisper in your ear. “I don’t care about them.” You relax into her more, feeling her against your back, feeling the softness of the blanket against your feet as it hangs at the edge of the sofa. 

“Who do you care about, then?” 

“You.” 

Carefully, both her hands hold your hips and she sits you up, smiling as she does. You tell her she’s showing off, she replies that you are always showing off. To that, you brush those hands from your sides and lean down to kiss her, more decidedly for once; more in control. It’s a surprising feeling for both of you, the forcefulness. Urgency. Not unfamiliar, but unexpected for this time on this day. 

The last time you kissed Ona, you had a boyfriend. 

Your mouth goes to her neck as soon as she decides that she wants her hands back on your hips, pushing you down into her lap. It’s now a competition, you think. She’s quickly coming completely undone by your kissing and biting, but you are not ignoring the feeling as she makes you grind down, makes you need that friction. “Fuck,” you moan in her ear. She grips you tighter. 

You start to pull off her shirt having had enough of the grey between you, asking if it’s okay, if she’s sure she isn’t too tired. Her reply is, “take it off, god,” and then the removal of your clothes that get thrown just shy of the wine glasses set out on her coffee table. Leggings aren’t the most practical for impromptu sex, but she’s quick and smooth and someone who has definitely done that before. 

With your bare chest on display and almost nothing between Ona and you, she lifts you up for a moment with the intention of flipping the two of you, getting you on your back. You pause for a moment, trying to decide if she’s doing it because she wants to or because she thinks that’s the only way to do it, but her hands are moving now, up your sides, round the front of your chest and you relax. She laughs quietly, amused, because the tension dissipates, dissolving like sweet, sweet sugar in hot coffee as soon as your legs wrap around her back. 

Ona asks before she does it, picking you up and laying you back down without needing to part her lips from your own. You watch her as she sits up, body in between your thighs. “You’re going to just stay there?” She shakes her head. “I can top,” you tease, a stark contrast from how it was the last time you did this. Ona doesn’t like being told she can’t do something. However indirectly. 

“Yeah?” You nod, biting the smirk out of your lips. “I don’t care.” 

You are in the process of rolling your eyes when her cocky mouth is put to good use. Your underwear was taken off at some point earlier — you hadn’t realised. Ona’s head moves between your legs, up and down, your hand that isn’t holding onto the sofa in her hair, the soft waves lacing between your fingers. 

She’s good at it; thorough, practised. Her tongue circles your clit for a moment before dipping into your entrance. Something about the cockiness of her movements, her tongue, her hand rubbing between her own legs, makes everything more surreal, more blissful. She moans softly, lips kissing their way up your body, hands no longer focused on herself. Instead, they take the place of her mouth, two fingers inside you as quickly as it takes for her to ask if you are okay to carry on. Your reply (“yes”) is cut off quickly by her mouth on yours, tongue swiping at your bottom lip in another question of permission. You can taste yourself on her. 

At her command, you sit up, letting her pull you back onto her lap as she sucks at your neck. “Don’t leave any marks,” you warn as her teeth pull a whimper from your supposed stoicness. “I don’t want the makeup artists asking questions.” It comes out too late, because you feel her teeth graze your collarbone quickly, not painful, no, but something that feels so, so good. “Ona.” She sighs in disappointment and adjusts where you are in her lap, so your legs are either side of her thigh. 

You find yourself rocking slowly, letting her savour your breasts between her hands and her mouth. She whispers that she wants to see you come, that you don’t need to hold back – not with her, not ever – so you start grinding down, harder, faster. Her hands drop back to your hips, guiding your movements, forcing you to slow down when she feels everything building up. Each time, you let out a “fuck” and attempt to go against her grip to get that friction. “Not just yet,” she mutters, no longer touching you anywhere other than where her hands meet your hips and her thigh presses between your legs. 

“Fuck off, Ona,” you breathe, frustrated. “When, then?” 

She slows the pace even more. “Can you last a little longer?” You look at her face, brushing away the strands of hair that have fallen over her eyes, ghosting your fingers along her cheek, running your thumb along her lips. She smiles again, eyes creasing slightly. 

As her hands drop to cup your face, you say, “you’re beautiful.” 

Ona blushes. 

You look down at her exposed cleavage, nipples pebbled against the sports bra that is unusually low-cut. It might border on intense staring as you begin to grind against her with the intention of actually getting off now. She laughs, saying her eyes are higher up than that, but going back to her trail of kisses along your jaw nevertheless. 

For what seems like longer than a few seconds, the build up finally stops, the tower toppling over in a rush of pleasure. Ona’s hands move your hips as your head drops to rest on her shoulder. She talks you through it, telling you that you look so pretty, telling you that she’s so turned on. 

And that’s when she whispers it. 

It has taken years to get to this moment, many of them filled with unnecessary suffering. 

It has taken years but it does not matter. 

Ona tells you that she loves you and that is when you have finally come home. 

[kooktrash]

all you want | kim taehyung

summary: in the world of high society finding your future partner took a lot of preparation. kim taehyung is one of the most sought out bachelors and he’s been roped on a blind date with Y/n, a spoiled rich girl not used to being told no. what happens when the two clash?

➣ arranged dating/high society

➣ 13.1k words

➣ rich ceo!kth x rich student!reader [she/her pronouns {female anatomy}]

warnings: smut. very light dom/sub themes. jealousy. lack of communication. make out. heavy petting. oral sėx [f and m]. blowjøb. public oral[bathroom and elevator]. protection sėx. tae is basically a soft dom. reader is kinda a brat. rich kids. missionary. ass slapping lol. light dirty talk. roughish. both experienced. teasing.

song inspo: art deco — lana del rey, i wanna be yours — arctic monkeys,

reupload

He's always considered himself a sensible man, never one to make a fuss over trivial things. He doesn't let a lot of things get to him and he likes to be in control. The only thing that had been in his control today was showing up on time which was something the person he was supposed to meet for lunch today couldn’t do. He’s already been waiting for twenty minutes.

Taehyung was mere seconds away from walking out the door and calling his grandmother to tell her what happened. If she was going to force him to see women for marriage, could they at least be realistic? Not every heiress in their twenties has to be on his radar. His grandmother seems to think he need a list of girls to potentially marry all of which stood in the same economic class as they did.

Kim Taehyung is currently head of a million dollar land development company because of his grandparents. Once they retired they passed it down to him despite being only 26. He graduated early from both high school and college and due to being a nepotism baby, he didn't have to lift much of a finger to be where he's at. Now even though coming from a rich family definitely played into his upbringing and sculpted him into who he was, he never considered himself spoiled—or greedy?

He was fine with the fact that his parents sent him to live with his grandparents since he was young. It was like an assurance that he would be the one to get it all and he did. He was grateful for the life they've given him and all its privileges. That's why when his grandmother asks him to promise that she'll see him married before her day of passing he took it seriously. He asked for her help and boom, he was going on dates with fellow rich people in order to marry.

So no, he could not say he was spoiled. He could say he was grateful and appreciative. He'll do whatever to prove his thankfulness to his family. But you? Now you, the one currently sitting in front of him? Yeah, you’re definitely spoiled.

After making him wait a total of twenty three minutes only to saunter in here in a tight little dress chewing gum without saying a single word to him. You just sat down with your arms crossed over your chest giving him nothing, no apology or explanation for being so late. No introduction, nothing.

Now, his grandparents raised him to be a gentleman so that's what he was. He used benefit of the doubt and stuck it out, he'll give it twenty minutes. He's just not sure if you’ll be doing everything that he had planned and right now you don't have the strongest first impression. Even if he wanted to snap over your rude behavior he didn't.

Instead he finally picked up his menu and began looking over the appetizers. When the waitress came around finally seeing the person he'd been waiting for she rushed over with a polite smile, "Hi! How are you doing today? What can I get you to drink?"

"Water's fine," you told her forcing a smile on your face before turning to look at him, he watched it fall immediately. It made him snicker as he mirrored your stance and crossed his arms over his chest too which told you he can play the waiting game better to see who cracks first.

Your eyes raked down what you could see of him. He wore an all black suit with the shirt buttoned all the way to the top button making him look stiff. Not stiff, but it was something in the way he carried himself that made it almost intimidating. He was attractive, extremely attractive. He was slightly older than you but being a young school girl all you ever heard were rumors about the older Kim grandson heir. And now here you were on a date with him ruining your chances all because you've had a bad day.

When the waitress came back you were both surprisingly ready to order. He didn't mutter a thing to you as he let you give her your order first and then did his. When the waitress left again it went back to complete silence.

Fine. If he wasn't going to talk then you won't either. You waited in silence for about half an hour [longer than Taehyung had wanted to stay] and finally the food got here. He could already tell what kind of person you were and he knew he could handle you so he stayed. You were only a few tiny bites into your lunch when your patience had ran thin. With a roll of your eyes and your fork clanking soft against your plate you caught his attention.

"So are you just not going to say anything at all? Because if that's the case I'll leave," you told him, the silver diamond bracelet you wore glistening under the lights. He continued cutting into his steak ignoring you for a moment before answering, "What would you like me to say?"

That made you huff in annoyance. You shrugged, "I don't know, like say hello, ask me why I was late, just talk to me? All you're doing is sitting there not saying anything like a complete prick."

He smiled a little making the anger inside you rise. He set down his knife and fork leaning forward on the table with his hands folded together, "Oh, so you want me to pay attention to you? Why’s that?”

"What do you mean why?" Your brows furrowed looking at him with irritation written all over your face. With a final roll of your eyes you reached for your handbag, "Whatever. I didn't even want to do this, I don't have to be here."

You didn't make it a step away from the table when his deep voice cut into the thick air like a sharp blade, "Sit down."

"No, I'm leaving," you told him going to take a step. His hand reached out in time to grasp your wrist suddenly making you gasp, "Y/n, sit down."

For some strange reason you did. He picked up his fork and knife again, "Now, we're going to finish our lunch and try and enjoy it, alright? I've given you a chance to talk and now it's my turn. After I say what I have to say you're welcome to leave."

Now, usually you'd throw back some rude comment over how you didn't have to do anything you didn't want to but instead you listened. He let out a deep breath as he went back to eating, chewing thoroughly before swallowing and speaking again, "You arrive twenty minutes late which is fine. I can wait twenty minutes."

"Then when you get here you don't say a single word. No apology, no explanation, not even a hello," Taehyung said as he looked up just in time to catch the roll of your eyes, "This entire time you've sat there in a bad mood refusing to talk to me as well as chewing on your gum not even looking at me. The first thing you say when you finally do decide to talk is complain about my silence? The audacity Y/n, truly."

"Well you know my name and I know yours. I didn't think we needed a formal introduction," you muttered digging into your own plate again. He didn't say anything for a moment waiting to see if you'd finally own up to the bad start of this date that had been entirely your fault but you didn't. He smiled taking his glass and drinking from it, "I'll admit this behavior is expected from someone your age."

Your eyes narrowed, "What's that supposed to mean?" You were 21, only a few years younger than the 27 year old and he was acting like it was a generational gap between you two. Clearly your father chose your current date partner due to his maturity. Your father ran a successful architect company that worked closely with the Kim's line of work so naturally this date was set up but that didn’t mean you liked it.

"It means you are a spoiled brat," he clears his throat going back to eating, "Who's immature and selfish."

"You don't know anything about me," you argued ignoring the waitress as she asked if the food was up to par. He, however, paid his attention to her, "Everything is wonderful if you don't mind bringing us the bill?"

"Let's see..." he pondered for a moment putting his attention back on you, "You're a 21 year old university student living off your parent's money and yet you want to act like you're better than everyone when you haven't worked for a single thing you own? Then you have the nerve to get mad over someone not paying you any attention on a date when you clearly didn't care enough about it to at least show up on time?"

"Wow, are you always this much of an asshole?" You asked raising room your feet, "We're done here."

He didn't say anything letting you leave and that only made you even more mad. Whatever, you rather deal with your dad's fury for walking out on the date than spend another second listening to him think he knows everything about you [news flash though, he was pretty spot on].

You do have to admit that when your parents asked you about lunch and when you told them in all honesty that it was shit they got you in trouble. It's what had you calling his work phone a couple days later despite not wanting to.

"Mr. Kim you have a call from a Y/n L/n on line 1, would you like me to tell her you're not in?" His secretary asked him one Wednesday morning when you called. He could see the surprise evident on her face at the fact that a woman was currently calling him and she looked anything but pleased.

Taehyung isn't a womanizer by any means, to be honest none of his employees have ever heard of him being with a women. Only rumors that have circulated over who his partner might be. He's heard some of course. Some say he's dating a Romanian model, others say he's dating a Japanese socialite. In truth he hasn't been in a serious relationship in a long time and he devotes too much of his time on work to deal with hook ups.

"Go ahead and put her through," Taehyung said adjusting the tightness of his neck tie as she left to connect the call. It took him a second to ready himself to answer the phone, "Hello?"

"Taehyung, hi it's Y/n," you said through the phone. You were currently sunbathing on your balcony poolside wearing a small two piece bathing suit and Chanel sunglasses. Your parents asked you to play nice so that's what you'll do.

"Yes, I know," Taehyung leaned back in his desk chair holding the phone up to his ear as he turned to face the view of Seoul sky scrapers in front of his office. You expected a little more small talk but went on nevertheless, "So listen, I wanted to apologize for how things left off on Sunday. I was wondering if you wanted to try and meet again? Maybe talk things out."

Taehyung smiled hearing you apologize. It looks like the princess does know how to own up to their actions. Though he's pretty sure you're not apologizing out of the kindness of your heart and instead most likely because you were being made to.

Still, part of him was intrigued. The previous women he's gone out with due to his grandmother have been boring. It felt like he was listening to the same story over and over again. They agreed with every little thing he said to impress him and he didn't like that. He liked a challenge. He liked someone who can bring out different sides to him and really tests his limits.

He's not saying you are that someone just yet but for some reason... your awful first impression didn't actually leave a bad taste in his mouth. On the contrary, the fuss you made had him curious. Matched with your looks, he can easily put up with your attitude. You've managed to spark some curiosity in him to pursue you further instead of the other women he's dated.

"Do you have something in mind?" He asked playing with his tie as he stared down at his reflection in the shine of his shoes. He tilted his head back biting his lip waiting to see what you had in mind.

"Well... I mean not exactly but..." you trailed off staring off at the cool water in front of you. You didn't expect him to actually be down to meet again. You listened to your parents and reached out to him with absolutely no hope that he'd still want to talk but here you were. You weren't mad about it at all, he was attractive and if he could put up with your shitty mood last time then you should give it a try.

"How about this then," he cleared his throat swiveling back around to face his desk, "I have this... banquet to go to on Saturday and I can take a plus one. Would you like to accompany me?"

You thought about it for a second. A banquet? Those were so boring. You could list a thousand other things that'd be more fun to do this weekend. Considering he'll be going to this on Saturday no matter what, you knew he wouldn't do something different with you instead. You sighed quietly, "What would the attire be?"

"Formal," Taehyung said sitting up even more, "If this is something you're alright with doing we can meet then. How does that sound?"

"Sounds good," you told him turning onto your front to tan your back, "Wouldn't it be better to give me your personal number?"

He agreed repeating the numbers for you to log and you sent a simple text saying who it was. The call ended and you went back to lounging while he went back to working.

       You ended up meeting sooner than expected on Saturday, after a long morning of stressing on what to wear you ended up calling Taehyung, "I can't go! I have nothing to wear."

There was no hello, just straight to distress.

"What do you mean?" Taehyung asked when you called having a meltdown at ten in the morning, "Why can't you go? I already RSVP'd."

He was in the middle of brunch when you called making him excuse himself from his friends to answer your call. You whined a little, "I don't have anything formal. I can't go, I have nothing to wear."

He let out a sigh, "I'm sure there's something in your closet or—"

"No! There isn't. I looked in both closets and there's absolutely nothing I can wear. Especially if there will be press there I can't be caught in the same dress I've worn before," you were visibly freaking out standing in your bedroom sized closet staring at all the dresses dresses and skirts. Your shoe collection scattered on the floor, hand bags thrown half hazard across the middle island of jewelry. You wanted to cry.

He bit into his bottom lip in thought. He checked the time on his wrist watch, "Can you be ready in an hour? I'll head over to pick you up and we'll go out and find you a dress. How does that sound?"

"Okay."

Click.

Taehyung ran his hand over his face. You just... you just played him basically. You came to him acting like a brat over not wanting to wear the same outfit twice and he just... he just gave you what you wanted so easily. He mindlessly offered to take you shopping and that satisfied you enough to stop complaining.

He had just been thinking about how spoiled you were and he was quickly enabling it just like everyone else around you. With a huff of air out his cheeks he headed back to his table of friends already struggling at explaining why he'd be leaving so suddenly.

"I, unfortunately, have to get going. Something came up," he cleared his throat hoping he could get away with just saying that. Jimin was the first to interrogate him, a smirk evident on his face, "Something or someone?"

"I'd be curious to know too," Jin piped in, "I saw the article of you and Y/n L/n having lunch together. It wasn't positive."

Taehyung shrugged rummaging through his wallet to get money for his bill. He set it on the table, "It's a work in progress." He left it at that leaving them even more curious than before and left to pick you up.

Once you were in his car he drove to luxury brand stores with high quality formal attire. He was lucky to be able to sit in the private waiting room in the middle of a circle of fitting rooms. He had a glass of champagne in hand waiting for you. You disappeared for a short moment changing into a dress he picked and came back out with a sour expression. His eyes scanned your head to toe. The dress was a soft cream and hugged your curves perfectly. It was taken in at your waist and had puffy sheer sleeves.

"This is so ugly," you said honestly turning to look at him, "I look like a peach."

"Well it's better than some of the stuff you've shown me," he argued making your eyes roll. You hoisted the dress up and left the waiting room to pick out your own dresses. You marched back into the fitting room and chose another one.

Next you sauntered out in a deep red mini silk dress, a slit on the side and a deep V. Immediately shook his head, "No."

"Why?" You asked checking yourself out in the mirror, “I look good.” The end of the dress barely reached your fingertips. Taehyung was looking at you from behind shaking his head, "You do but maybe for a night out, not for a company banquet. Let's find something else."

With a little stomp of your foot you returned to the fitting room to change.

When Taehyung picked you up later on in the evening he could already feel his patience thinning. Thankfully you managed to come to an agreement on a dress earlier but you made it so sultry.

The long black fitted dress with a long slit down your leg, back completely exposed as the dress barely covered your butt. The way it hugged your figure and sparkled of silver embroidery. The black dress looked exquisite on you especially with the way you styled your hair and chose jewelry. Anyone walking by would assume you're on the way to a red carpet instead.

The dress wasn't what made him feel impatient if not the person wearing it. He could already tell you were a handful and he was willingly involving himself with you because he liked it. All eyes had been on you the second you entered the venue and it was obvious why. Heads turned in your direction either in awe or judgement.

In his eyes, you were the most show stopping in the room. You stuck out in the best way possible and he was the one with you. Taehyung knows that he’s worth envying and when paired with you, who people also envied, it was like a perfect match. His hand on your lower bare back lead you to a group of people who all turned to look you up and down.

"Ah! It's the socialite," Jin said with a smirk on his face as you both approached. You were known for being out an any social event that met your standards. You didn't say anything hearing them all introduce themselves and Taehyung's arm wrapped around your waist, "This is Y/n L/n, my date tonight."

A server came around holding a tray of champagne and you happily took a glass as well as Taehyung. You could already tell tonight was going to be boring but Taehyung looked so good in his Givenchy suit that he was all you could focus on. You caught a few girls checking him out too but that didn't come as a surprise. In the inner circle of influential people Kim Taehyung was a well known bachelor. A lot of women had their eyes on him yet here he was with you.

A spoiled girl known to get what you want and currently that's him. They couldn't even compete and yet you still felt annoyed whenever one of them would pass and gawk at your date.

"I'll be back," you whispered to him, "I'm gonna go find a restroom to freshen up." He looked around for an idea of which direction you'd be heading to and nodded. He wasn't expecting you to lean up and plant a soft kiss on his neck but he wasn't against it at all.

Taehyung watched the sway of your hips as you walked away, the glass of champagne brushing against his bottom lip as he went to take a drink. Namjoon cleared his throat, "Y/n definitely knows how to make an entrance."

"Are you sure you'll know what to do with all of that? I heard Y/n's a lot to handle," Hoseok said still looking after you before disappearing among the crowd of people all turning to stare at you, "I mean... if you need any help I'd be happy to."

Taehyung forced a smile on his face, "I got it." Jimin cleared his throat, "She knows how to show off her best assets. How'd you let her come out in that?"

He shrugged. He didn't care for the conversation or the way they talked about you for that matter. He took a small sip before answering, "Y/n can wear what she wants.”

He learned that earlier today. Jin looked at him, "And you're okay with that? Look at all the attention she's getting." Taehyung turned to him, "I'm not worried."

"Taehyung!" He kept himself in place ignoring the call of his name. Only a second later and a hand attached itself to his bicep squeezing slightly, "Oh my, I didn't see you come in."

A woman appeared at his side, smile on her face as she clung to him. He looked down at her, "Mina."

"Oh my god, don't be so serious, haven't seen you in so long," Mina said oblivious to his glare.

Mina had been a fling he had a few years ago. He was younger, not as established, and just looking for some fun. It was never anything serious and as he grew older he learned about how little patience he had with the actress.

You applied the finishing touch of lip gloss fixing your hair in the mirror as you left the wash room. It took you a total of .5 seconds to find Taehyung and his friends again. You hadn't expected to find a woman on his arm though. Your eyes narrowed at the sight zoning in on her and making your way over. Nobody seemed to notice your arrival until you were directly in front of them.

Taehyung's breath of relief at your arrival had gone over your head as you leaned your weight on one hip flicking your hair off your shoulder. He cleared his throat using his hand to push Mina's off his bicep before wrapping his arm around your waist, "Y/n, shall we go find our seats?"

"Hello, I'm Mina," you forced a feigned polite smile even when your eyes showed something else as she introduced herself to you before you could leave to your table, "And you are?"

"Y/n..." you said giving her the same once over she was currently giving you. Mina looked you up and down, "How do you know Taehyung?"

You couldn't bite back the sour tone, "Does it matter to you?" She looked visibly taken back as Taehyung turned away from her hiding a smile behind a sip of his drink. Why did he kind of like how blunt you were? Jin and Hoseok snickered, they all knew how much Mina annoyed Taehyung.

"Oh!" Mina clapped, "I was just curious what dumb bimbo Taehyung sank his teeth into this time, at least now I know who."

Everyone seemed to stop moving, eyes wide at her words. Even if they didn’t know you personally everyone knew you and your family weren’t ones you should talk about negatively. Mina didn’t seem to get that.

Your face brightened at the hint of an insult sent your way. You always did love a good bitch fight. You smiled feeling Taehyung turn ready to tell Mina to fuck off when you spoke, "For a washed up has-been like you, you've got some nerve saying that to me. Just say you're upset he's not into you and run along before I get a little mean, alright?"

"I think it's too late for that," Namjoon whispered even as he fought off the need to laugh. Mina was a has-been who used Taehyung to gain influence and then slept with her yoga instructor. You turned to Taehyung, "I'm hungry."

It took him a second to process what had just happened and then he was nodding his head leading you to your seats to wait for the food to be served. Mina watched him leave with you with her jaw dropped. Taehyung held your chair out for you before pushing you in. He sat in his own seat and turned to you, "Let me apologize for what just happened. She came up to me while you were gone an—"

"I don't care," you brushed your fingers through your hair staring straight ahead. You didn't even bother hiding the bad mood you were in now. Throughout the dinner and speeches he tried getting your attention but you were cold toward him like it had all been his fault. It reminded him of the bad attitude you had on your lunch date and he wasn't going to put up with it for a second time.

By the end of the night you were waiting outside for the valet to bring Taehyung's car over and you stood a few feet away from him, arms crossed over your chest like a child upset they didn't get what they wanted. He scoffed watching you open the door to the back of his car and sit inside. He stopped the door from closing as he glared down at you, "What are you doing?"

"Sitting," you told him plainly looking ahead. Without thinking he reached for your hand and pulled you out of the car with little force as he cornered you against the side, "Listen, you're not going to be catching an attitude with me. Either you sit up front next to me like a big girl or you throw your little fit and I leave you here and go home. You decide."

He stood closely, his chest touching your crossed arms as neither one of you looked away, waiting for the other to stand down first. You didn't like this. You wanted to throw a fit and keep up your bad attitude but he won't let you. Or no, he will but he'll leave and you're not interested in finding a cab on your own. So, with a pout on your face and a roll of your eyes you climbed into the front seat slamming the door in his face. Looking around to make sure nobody other than the valet saw your act of defiance he fixed his suit as if to not appear disheveled. He rounded over to his side of the car and got in.

It's bad how much he liked putting you in your place as well as how much he liked seeing you act out and be a brat. Clearing his throat he put his seatbelt on and drove off.

Despite wanting to run out the car and up to your apartment Taehyung didn't let you. He locked the door before you could open and pushed the button repeatedly when you tried unlocking it. Turning to yell at him he gave you a look that read 'try me' so you didn't.

He put the car in park in front of your building, "If you're upset about something, talk to me. Don't just get mad and take it out on me because I won't be putting up with that. What happened earlier was all because of Mina so I understand being upset but I don't care about her, I care about you. If you would've given me the chance I would've told her to fuck off myself."

"I don't need you doing anything for me," you told him. He reached for the hand you had on the arm rest, "I know you don't but I want to. The same way I want to see you again but just know that if you keep giving me attitude over every little thing thing, I'm going to keep putting you in your place. The way you've treated me so far is childish and all you've shown me is how spoiled and immature you are."

He thought back to the first date and the way you acted like he was the one at fault. Or even when you called crying about the dress only to get happy when he offered to buy you a new one. The way you complained to him for five minutes about how ugly the dress he picked out for you originally was and didn't try to cooperate at all. The way you handled your business with Mina and then turned around and took it out on him. And it's a big problem because he's willingly taking it all due to his growing feelings for you. You had a six year age gap and it felt like your maturity levels were on completely different ends of the spectrum.

"If I'm so spoiled and immature then why do you want to see me again?" You scoffed looking away from him. There you go again. The hand that had been on the steering wheel moved to cup your face forcing you to look at him but your eyes still wandered in refusal to obey. He waited until your eyes did meet his, "Because I'm into you and your little attitude doesn't scare me when I know you're into me too. We wouldn't be here right now if you weren't."

For some reason that made your insides turn giddy. The way he was so mature, and his deep voice sent shivers down your spine. The way he told you it how it was from the very beginning ordering you to sit still and look pretty while he let you know you won't be having any attitude with him. You liked it a lot. You liked him a lot.

You hated how reasonable and calm he is though. You wanted to see him snap. So far you've done a lot of things that have granted someone/anyone to yell at you and he has yet to do that. The most he's done is give his reasoning for ignore you and order you to sit up front with him. You wanted him to really show you who you're messing with and you wanted to see how much you could get away with.

He's only seen bits and pieces of how bad your attitude could get—even a hint of your jealous and possessive side—but you knew you could push his buttons even further. Without another word you leaned forward until your lips pressed against his. Completely taken back it took him a moment to get to his senses and kiss you back.

His eyes fell shut as his hand held your face close to his deepening the kiss as needed. Taehyung's tongue swiped along your bottom lip before exploring the inside of your mouth. The soft muscles of your tongue and his fought for dominance as the kiss turned into a heated make out. He released a soft groan when you sucked on his tongue eagerly. You pushed forward moving to straddle his lap but he stopped you before you could.

You whined, "What now?" You tried going back to kiss him but he shook his head loosening his tie as he caught his breath. "No?" You asked feeling annoyed again, "What do you mean no?" Nobody ever tells you no.

"No, as in no, Y/n," Taehyung said sternly, "You've been in a bad mood the whole ride here—practically all night ignoring me, and now you want me to just give in to what you want? No."

"I've wanted you all night," you said honestly making his wall crumble a little bit he kept up his act. He had to put his foot down. He scoffed, "Well you could've fooled me. I'll call you when I get home, how about that?"

"Whatever," you rolled your eyes pulling the lock up and finally getting out. You slammed his car door shut and made your way up the steps to your building hearing the sound of a window rolling down. Taehyung looked through it, "Text me when you get inside, I want to make sure you make it back safely."

"Fuck you," you muttered making him smile, "I heard that."

      Throughout the last couple of weeks that Taehyung has had the chance to get to know you he's learned a few things about you and himself.

One, that you love the attention. You love the stares and the whispers. You lived for being in the spotlight and the center of attention.

Two, that you're surprisingly clingy and needy. Alright not that surprising but still clingy. You called each other every day mostly for him to listen to you rant about some injustice done against you ranging from someone taking the pair of Jimmy Choo's you wanted to classes at the University starting up soon. You listened to him tell you about his latest project and boring meetings he had to attend.

Third, he loves giving you the attention. He's learned you're very easy to confide in. You listen and seem genuinely interested in what he says. When you talk to him it doesn't seem rehearsed to cater to him. You're honest saying what's on your mind and he likes that.

Not a lot of people can put up with you, you'll admit that. You've got a very small circle of friends who you genuinely trust and confide in. You never expected Taehyung to quickly insert himself as one of the chosen few.

The only two other people in this tight knit circle were your best friends who were currently interrogating you. Jungkook couldn't hold in his laugh as you retold the events of the last couple of weeks.

Your friend Yoongi shook his head in astonishment as the three of you lounged around Jungkook's million dollar apartment gifted to him by his parents for graduating University. You were sprawled across one of his couches waiting for him to find something the three of you could do for the night telling them of the guy you've been seeing.

"I'm actually genuinely surprised it's going so well for you," Jungkook said stifling a laugh as you flipped him the bird. Yoongi shook his head, "I, for one, expected this when you told us who you'd be going on a date with."

"What do you mean?" You asked flipping for your phone around on your stomach absentmindedly. You remembered telling the two in a group call before your date. You'd just gotten home from a week long trip to Paris when your parents informed you of the date set up.

Tired beyond belief and with nothing to wear you had a meltdown in your closet. You had watched time tick on by closer to the meet up time and you hadn't cared. In that moment you were more focused on your lack of wardrobe ranting to your friends about the man you'd be going on a date with.

You remember saying, in the middle of a tantrum, how you didn't care if you were late and if he bailed. You weren't going to go until you found the perfect outfit just to spite your parents for throwing this on you just as you landed in Seoul.

Yoongi shrugged, "I just knew. I met him once at a grand opening for some art museum and he seemed like the exact type of person you needed."

Your brows furrowed in confusion looking to Jungkook who looked just as equally confused as he cleared his throat, "Feel free to explain because I'm pretty sure neither of us get what you're saying."

"I'm saying that Taehyung seems like a good fit for you," Yoongi told you, "You need someone who matches your energy when you're being bitchy. Someone who'll tell you how it is without you asking for it. Don't say you don't like when someone puts you in your place."

This, unfortunately, was a very normal conversation topic for you three. Being friends for years you'd gotten closer in your prep school years. You experienced a lot of 'first's' right after the other and the subject was easy to discuss. The amount of things you've heard about Jungkook's sex life or Yoongi's bedroom behavior with his girlfriend was unbelievable.

"I mean... it's not boring..." you answered cautiously as you thought on it further. Now that you think about it, you've been more caught up on Taehyung than any of the other guys your parents introduced you to.

He didn't cater to your every request. He didn't even try and take any advances in the car when you kissed him. He was respectful and kind. But at the same time, it was something in the way he reeled you back in. In the midst of an anger fit he is quick to let you know he won't be the one you take it out on. He'll make you own up to your actions [like arriving late on the first date] and he doesn't let you distance yourself during that time.

Before people would easily give you what you want if it meant you'd stopped being a bitch or you'd be left alone until your tantrum wore off. Taehyung was the opposite. He confronted you about your rude behavior toward him when he was at his last straw. He didn't even let you pout in his back seat after the banquet. He let you know he wasn't going to be your punching bag and instead wanted to talk about things to you.

And on the phone he was very gentle. His deep voice was calming every time you tell him about your day or anything that might've upset you. He made you laugh when you wanted to be mad. Maybe he was what you needed and Yoongi was right.

Before you could add on to your previous statement you were cut off by your phone's ringtone. The three of you shared a knowing look before you answered, "Hello?"

"I want to see you," Taehyung said softly as he paced his office staring at the sunset outside his 100th floor window view. You let out a dramatic sigh, "I don't even get a hello back?"

Your two friends scooted closer in curiosity making you try and wave them off. They stuck to you like glue. Taehyung smiled a little on his end, "Hello sweetheart, how's your day going?"

"Oh," you couldn't help to smile as your friend silently gagged at the sweetness, "Pretty boring, nothing to do."

Taehyung bit his lip in thought, "Well I can change that, how does dinner at my place sound?"

"What time?" You asked looking to your friends whose faces lit up at the proposition. They were well rounded gossips.

Taehyung checked the time, "I'll be off in about an hour or so... I'm not sure let's say 7:00?"

You groaned, feeling bored being at Jungkook's with nothing to do, dressed to impress, you needed to do something now, "But I want to see you now."

At that Yoongi rolled his eyes at your impatience but without missing a beat Taehyung offered up, "Well if you want you can come down to my office and wait with me here. We'll go back to mine and have dinner together."

"Okay," you began sitting up, "Then I'll see you in a bit?"

You said your goodbyes and Yoongi laughed. He pointed his pinky up as he mocked you with Jungkook, "Oh you both are so whipped for each other."

"Whatever, someone take me to Taehyung's office," you said already gathering your things expecting someone to drive you without saying please or asking nicely. With a huff Yoongi stood, "I'll drop you off on my way to Jina's. Let's go."

"Wait so you're both leaving me?" Jungkook asked looking back at the two as they rounded toward the door. You waved goodbye and you left with Yoongi.

To say the front desk receptionists were complete taken aback as you stormed into the lobby would be an understatement. From your kitten heels to the mini tennis skirt and fitted cropped knit sweater and the dangle gold earrings. Your hair was pinned back by a hair clip and your lips shined with gloss, you stuck out like a sore thumb in the gray lobby.

You displayed a perfect smile as you approached the front desk, "Hi I'm here to see Kim Taehyung if you don't mind letting him know Y/n L/n is here."

The woman nodded giving you one more look before dialing a number. You heard her talk on the phone, look back at you, nod her head and hang up. She forced a smile on her face, "I'm sorry but his secretary has informed me he's extremely busy today, maybe if you set an appointment you can come back."

You mimicked her smile, "Is that so? Alright, give me one moment." The woman's fake smile didn't falter as you took your phone out and called someone.

"Hey, are you almost here?" Taehyung asked staring down the empty hall where his secretary typed away on her computer.

"I'm downstairs actually," you told him looking back at the receptionist, "But apparently you're extremely busy so I should schedule an appointment to see you another day. Is this how I’m going to be treated every time I come?”

Her smile faltered. There's no way you, dressed the way you were, would be on the phone with her big bad boss who never had any women visit him in the office aside from family. Taehyung's brows furrowed, "Give me a moment I'll come down and get you."

You hung up with an innocent smile on your face as you and the receptionist had a staring contest. Only a couple minutes later did Taehyung reach the lobby and walked over to the front desk.

He pulled you into a hug as he kissed your cheek in greeting. Taehyung looked at the receptionist who looked completely taken back as he wrapped an arm around your waist, "If you don't mind putting her name down just so Y/n won't have to wait down here again."

"Yes of course sir, my apologies," the reception fumbled for a second as she rushed to do as told. Taehyung led you to the elevator and you turned sending the two front desk clerks a perfect wink before disappearing around the corner.

Once in the privacy of the elevator Taehyung pulled you into him. His mouth found yours giving you the second kiss you've had since you met. You were caught off guard but welcomed the action with arms around his neck pulling him closer. He pressed you into the mirrored wall cupping your face in both hands as his brows scrunched together in bliss.

The only thing to pull you away is the final ding of the elevator and you quickly rushed to wipe off your lip gloss from the corners of his mouth. Straight at the end of the wide hall was his office, his secretary posted just outside his door.

She looked over to you two as Taehyung led you down to his office. An idea sparking in your head as you stopped directly in front of her desk, "So, what were you so busy with that I wouldn’t even be able to see you unless I set an appointment?”

Immediately the secretary shrunk behind her computer. Taehyung stood in confusion as he tried to think about it. Turning to his secretary, "Miss Yoona, did the lobby call you a few minutes ago?”

She stood up, "Yes sir, my apologies I'd seen you on your desktop and thought you were in a video conference." You could see her lying through her teeth.

In truth everyone had been confused. You, the way you looked, did not make sense for someone to have business with Kim Taehyung. You don't even seem like his type to them. Taehyung didn't say anything for a moment before taking your hand in his, "Well next time, even if I'm in a meeting let Y/n through. She can always just wait in my office. Don't make the same mistake twice, alright?"

"Yes sir."

You smiled being dragged into his office and immediately threw your arms around him. He lifted you up a little kissing you harder than before. Your relationship had evolved since the last time you saw each other but he wasn't going to forget everything else. He set you back down, "I've just got a few emails to send and then we can head out."

It took about forty minutes for Taehyung to finish up and then the two of you were leaving for the day.

This was the first time you stepped into his apartment looking around and taking everything in. Taehyung was already in the kitchen taking out pots and pans. He rolled the sleeves of his white shirt up and was glancing up at you now and then as you wandered around, "You gonna help me cook tonight?"

"No," you said simply, "I don't know how to."

"You can always learn," Taehyung shrugged as he rinsed some vegetables, "Come here."

You whined, "Tae I'll burn your kitchen down."

"You'll just dice," Taehyung told you sliding a cutting board and nice across the island toward you, "Come on Y/n, we're doing this together."

"Then let's go out to eat, I don't want to dice."

He sent you a look as he waited patiently. Sensing his sudden authoritative behavior you crossed your arms in front of your chest, "You're the one who wanted to cook, not me."

"Yes honey, you're right, but I figured it's something we can do together and you can learn something too," he told you softly. You rolled your eyes, "I don't want to learn anything. I'm fine not knowing how to cook. And if you're going to be like this then I'll just leave."

There you go again. He's learned another thing about you though he really only notices it when you're in a room together. It was that you took the easy way out. Any sign of work or difficulty made you want to give up and he didn't appreciate that. All because he's asking you to spend some quality time cooking together [something you don't want to do] now you want to leave. Sensing his change in demeanor you tried a new tactic.

You wrapped your arms around his waist as he began to cut some steak, "Come on Taehyungie, I'm no good in the kitchen anyway."

"Well you don't even try," he said but he's not sure if he's talking in regards to the cooking or to your unlabeled relationship. You planted a soft kiss on his neck, "Then let's skip dinner and you can see me try and make it up to you in other ways."

He let out a sigh, "Not tonight."

          "I hate him."

"Sure you do," Jungkook chuckled as he dug into his lunch, "Why do you hate him this time?"

"I've never met a man who doesn't want to have sex," you said honestly. You sat with your two best friends in a private section for lunch. The restaurant sat you in a secluded booth hidden behind an aquarium wall.

You sounded desperate but you didn't care. You've never met a guy who turns down your advances and you hated that. If he could just give you what you want, that'd be great. Yoongi shrugged as he said, "Maybe he's trying to actually connect with you before having sex."

"Why?" You asked, "I'm already into him, he's into me, I don't get it. I'm not asking him to prove he likes me."

"Yes but maybe he's just not the type of guy to sleep with someone until he's sure of them," Yoongi added watching both you and Jungkook stare at him in confusion.

"Think about it, you say you had a rough start with each other because of the first date and all. Maybe he wants to prove he's genuinely interested in going out with you but he wants to make sure you know what you're getting yourself into with him too," Yoongi told you, "He's making you work for it by making you wait. I told you he's right for you, the only guy to never give in to you right away."

"He's a better man than me," Jungkook joked as he stuffed his mouth with food, "The second Y/n complains I do whatever it takes to shut her up." You hit his arm and he laughed.

You shook your head at what Yoongi was telling you, "Well I don't like it."

"When do you see him again?" Jungkook asked you.

"Tonight, we're going out for drinks with a couple of his friends but it's weird. He hasn't even asked me to be his girlfriend yet but treats me like one. I don't get him at all."

"You should make him jealous," Jungkook told you with a shrug of his shoulders as Yoongi shook his head in disapproval, "I bet that'll make him move quicker."

So, despite knowing you should listen to what Yoongi had said over lunch, you went with Jungkook's idea.

You and Taehyung were currently at the lounge bar he was meeting his friends at. You sat in a booth with his arm around you as he talked with his friends.

You were bored of their conversation about stocks. You couldn't stop thinking about what Jungkook had said. Taehyung's being super unfair to you. He makes you think he has feelings for you then does things like refuse to sleep with you all because you told him you weren't going to help him cook.

You didn't care if it made you sound desperate or easy. You knew what you wanted and that was him so what gives him the right to make you work for it?

Taehyung watched you stand up abruptly, his arm falling away from you, "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to get myself a drink," you told him not waiting for him to respond before you left.

"So how's it going in La La Land with the princess?" Jimin asked Taehyung as he watched you disappear through the crowd to the bar. Taehyung turned back to face his friends, "Can you refrain from making comments like that? We're fine."

"You know, I've always heard she's difficult," Jin added making Taehyung glare at him.

"Y/n's not difficult," he told them all, "She's just young and has some maturing to do. She's actually very sweet and easy to talk to when you get to know her."

It's true, he genuinely believes it but he also knows how hard it could be to deal with you when you're on your high horse. That's the only reason he hasn't put into words how badly he wants to make it official with you. He doesn't think you're ready for the sort of commitment he's willing to give. If he's with you he's not going to just give you whatever you want because you're acting out. He's not going to let you take the easy way out. He's going to make you communicate your needs and wants to him and help you separate them.

You might want everything in the world [and he'll give it to you] but not if you snap at him anytime he does something you don't like. The way you got irritated when he refused to skip dinner and have fun with you instead had been comical. He'd been two seconds away from ditching it all together till you snapped at him and stormed out of his apartment. When he called you later that night all you said in regards to dinner and storming off was, 'Well nobody can make me do something I don't want to do.'

"I'm gonna go check on Y/n," Taehyung muttered after checking the time. You'd been gone for a while now and he went straight to the bar to find you.

When he couldn't see you he had to walk around a bit wondering if you'd gotten lost in the thick crowd of people. He hadn't expected to find you with someone else.

Taehyung stood back watching feeling a slight tinge of something in his chest. His jaw clenched at the sight of your hand on the guy's arm. His mind did not stray elsewhere as he stormed over to where you were, not uttering out a single word.

The guy you were talking to glares up at him at the sudden change in air with his arrival. He chuckled, "Mind backing off man? I'm talking here."

You didn't say anything staring at Taehyung as he stood directly in front of the stranger you’ve been chatting with. He had stopped you on your way back to the table with your drink and he fell as your perfect victim. You were going to listen to what Jungkook said and make him jealous. Taehyung's eyes bored into the guy's, "It'd be better if you walk away."

"Oh come on Tae," you smiled feigning innocence, "We were just talking."

"Whoa are you two together?" The guy asked looking back to you. At the same time both you and Taehyung answered him.

"Yes."

"No."

The guy chuckled, "Alright so you're not?"

"Not that I know of," you shrugged knowing that Taehyung was staring at you now. You were getting under his skin and you liked it, maybe then he'll stop being so nonchalant and give you a reaction.

Taehyung smiled, "Fine Y/n, if you want to stand here and talk to him then I'll give you exactly what you want and leave you to it."

He walked away.

It took you a total of .03 seconds to chase after him in regret, "Tae wait—"

"No, you want to act like a little girl fine by me but I won't keep taking it," he didn't stop, "You want to talk to other guys and say we aren't together, whatever I won't keep trying since you clearly aren't."

"You haven't asked me to be your girlfriend."

"Because I don't have to!" Taehyung snapped at you over the loud music, "We're adults Y/n. We go on dates, we kiss and hug and talk on the phone all fucking day. We're very public too, everyone knows we're together but you."

"You want me to give in to everything you want but when I ask you for something you can't do it," Taehyung scoffed. He was annoyed now and he needed some space. He was making his way over to the empty hall where the restrooms would be, you still hot on his trail. This was the first time you’ve ever heard him snap.

"I ask you to go to an event with me and you complain you don't have the right dress so we go out and get you one," he started to list off his reasons, "I want to enjoy the night with you but because you're in a bad mood we don't talk at all through that night."

"I call and tell you I'd like to have dinner together and you say you don't cook. You say you don't want to have quality time with me," Taehyung said, "Then you storm off and tell me over the phone that nobody is going to make you do what you don't want to do."

"You're the one who's not trying to be in a relationship with me," Taehyung said, "From the very beginning. So just give me some space right now."

You didn't listen following him into the men's washroom not caring if anyone was in there. Thankfully for you, there wasn't. It was a fancy bathroom with cement walls separating each stall and when he turned to glare at you, you pushed him into one. He looked taken back as he hit the wall. You stood in front of him, "I want to be with you."

He didn't say anything. You let out a sigh before continuing, "I want to be with you Taehyung but you just make me so mad when you don't give me what I want."

"So what is that you want?" Taehyung asked slightly turned on by way you just pushed him up against the wall despite your smaller stature. The fact you were going to express to him your needs instead of just getting mad at him for not giving in right away. He liked that. He wanted to communicate.

You stomped your heeled foot softly, "I want you. I want to be with you but you're so mean."

"How?" Taehyung asked, "Because I don't let you walk all over me? Because I don't give you everything you want right away? Because I genuinely want us to work? Tell me what you want and I'll do it right now... but only if you tell me with words instead of just expecting me to know."

"I want you..." you repeated in a whisper making him sigh. Without another word, you watched him drop to his knees on the surprisingly clean floor.

"You want me?" Taehyung asked double checking, "Fine, I'll give you what you want but I don't want to hear you whine that it's too much.

His fingers ran over the waist of your dress and you nodded in excitement. Finally, finally, he was going to just give you what you've wanted since the first time you saw him even if you would never admit it. Taehyung was sliding his hand under your fitted mini dress groaning already, "Are you serious?"

"What?" You asked biting your lip as he glared up at you. He shook his head, his hand feeling your bare pussy, "You're not wearing any underwear and you wanted to talk to other guys tonight? Seriously?"

"I wanted to make you jealous," you said honestly, a gasp leaving your lips when his hand swiped between your folds, "So that you could g—give me what I wanted."

"And this is what you wanted?" He pulled your dress up scooting closer so that his face was only centimeters away from your parted legs. One of his hands held your waist while the other worked to separate your legs. He collected wetness from your entrance and used it to rub your clit, your knees twitched with the wave of warmth that came over you, "Yes, please."

You leaned back against the stall's wall and placed your hand on his head to brace yourself so you could guide him to where you needed him most. All those times he's been stern with you have done nothing but get under your skin and leave you turned on. He laughed, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder.

He laughed, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder. "You're a needy little thing, aren't you?" He chuckled, "that's fine. I'll give you what you want but don't get used to it." Your head fell back against the wall as his lips met your centre, he started off with small kitten licks keeping a tight grip on your thigh as it rested on his shoulders. He was teasing in the way he barely licked at your entrance and before you could tell at him that you wanted more he pulled your clit into his mouth. Your lips drew apart in a quiet moan as he toyed with your clit using his tongue to swirl it around. His lips sucked around it, the tip of his tongue hitting the tip of your clit as he made you grind against his face.

Your hands pushed his head closer to you, Taehyung eagerly sucking on your clit as his free hand began to swiped along your folds. He pushed the tip of his middle finger into your entrance while his mouth worked your sensitive spot. He looked up at you, his mouth never giving up, as he watched your body ripple in waves of pleasure that only he could give you. His mouth went back to your clit and his middle finger crooked upwards to rub your G-spot. A second finger quickly joined the first as you moaned, "Tae, please, I want more."

Neither one of you seemed to care about the fact that you were in the men's washroom. He let out another chuckle at your whine as he lifted his head, "you gotta be quiet baby or else I stop."

You grunted in frustration, "Then give me more." He shook his head and pulled away again, "What did I say? You aren't going to boss me around Y/n, now take what I give you and bring your voice down."

He smiled when you shied back into his touch, "Good girl," he said smacking your clit lightly in praise. He went back to his task in earnest, paying careful attention to your body as he went on. He felt you fluttered around him and it only made him work quicker. He was now fully kneeled between your legs, his mouth gliding over to your wet cunt leaving open mouth kisses against your heat. His fingers working overtime feeling you shudder and his tongue lapped up whatever slick his fingers pushed out of you.

Feeling your walls begin to crumble you pulled on his hair, "So close." And just like that, just those two words and he is pulling away despite your cries.

He stood up on his feet pulling your dress down for you as you fought against his hold, "Stop Y/n, look at me."

"Why? I was so close!" You whined kicking your foot in a fit. Taehyung opened the door looking out to make sure nobody was there. He's sure people heard you two but as long as they didn't see your faces he didn't care. He pulled you out, "Because of your little stunt you did to make me jealous. If you want me to give you what you want then I gotta know I'm getting something too."

"This isn't going to be a one sided relationship," he told you leading you out the restroom, "And I want you to be my girlfriend but I need you to know that you won't always get what you want. I want to give you the world Y/n, I really do, but only if you show me that you're willing to make sacrifices for me too."

"I will!" You said as he cut through the crowds of people making a beeline to the door, "But I was so close!"

"You think you deserved it? You think you can flirt with other guys in my face and it'll get you what you want with no consequences?" He asked turning to you for a quick moment, "I'm sorry baby but that's not how it works."

"Are we leaning?" You asked, the wetness between your legs getting uncomfortable as your orgasm had been taken from you just moments ago, "What about your friends?"

namjoon: u ditched us but I'm sure u got a good reason ;)

So evidently, he's reminded yet again of two things.

The first? That you were a huge brat who threw a big fit in the car for being left mid orgasm in the bathroom and dragged out.

Second, that you did in fact always get what you want.

"Y/N, you can't be serious..." He wanted to say but he couldn't. Not with you playfully nipping the erection through his clothes and making a whimper escape his lips in the process. "Y/N...fuck, can't you just wait? You're always so... needy."

You pulled down his pants and boxershorts, his hard cock springing upwards - only inches away from your face. You didn't care if the two of you were currently in the elevator on the way up to your floor. Luckily, you lived in a penthouse which meant there was a lot of time waiting in the elevator. Instantly, you placed your lips around his tip when he made no physical effort to stop you, making him close his eyes and breathe deeply. He didn't actually want you to stop, he liked that you took what you wanted especially if it was him.

"Baby, please..." Taehyung began to softly pet your head, before he couldn't stand the pressure anymore - he'd ball a fist in your hair, pulling your mouth closer to thrust into it. Your tongue circled around his head licking down the vein on the underside of his hard length. His head was thrown back, taking it all in, or well, having you take it all in. He can't imagine being in this situation with someone else. He can't imagine [doesn't want to] you doing this with someone else. He was the one for you the same as you were the one for him.

"Fuck..." he whispered as he heared you try to surpress your gag reflex, his cock being way too big for being shoved your throat. Looking up at the floor number making sure there was still time and also praying nobody came in. You didn't care,you'd keep on going, head moving up and down fast until he was satisfied.

You looked up as you clenched your fingers around his member, while still enthusiastically sucking him as if you wanted to milk him dry. The way you looked at him made him want to cover that pretty face of yours into his cum and let you know exactly who's in charge in the bedroom—or elevator?

That none of those other guys that have been able to handle your attitude know what to do with you. That only he will be the one to give you what you want and need.

"Wait!" he panted. "God, Y/N... wait!"

Ding.

You were on your floor. Before the doors opened you were helping him tuck himself back into his jeans and he was urging you out of the elevator. His hand on your lower back as his body walked closely behind yours. "Oh, you're such a brat," was his firm response to the whole fiasco, as he watched you swipe your key card. He began to fondle your breasts turning you in his arms to face him as you entered your apartment. He pushed you against the wall and you could feel his hard on against your stomach as he wrapped your legs around his waist hoisting you up.

"Where?" He asked pressing his lips against yours. You pointed toward your bedroom and he was taking off in that direction. The  kiss was needy, hungry and full of want from the both of you. Taehyung set you down on the bed never once taking his mouth off you as he crawled over you. He was tugging on your dress at the ends until a clear tearing sound was heard. You bit your lip helping him shake you from the confines of fabric while pulling on the buttons of his shirt until it split open.

"You couldn't wait the two minutes it took to get here?" He asks groping at your exposed chest. You'd gone without a bra or underwear so when he tore into the dress it was like opening a present. His pants are uncomfortably tight with need as he buried his face into your breasts.

"Such a fucking brat," he exhales, tugging a nipple roughly between his teeth as his hand squeezed the soft flesh, "You know it too. Always know how to get what you want."

"I know," you said, grinning in anticipation as your hands traveled along his back, "But you like it."

He doesn't say anything for a moment, his fingers find your little clit between your legs still sensitive from his earlier ministrations where he left you high and dry—or wet in this case.

"I do," he groaned loving the way your face contorts with the pleasure he's giving you, "I love it so fucking much baby. Makes me wanna out you in your place."

"Then do it... Daddy," you bit your lip as the words left your mouth. He froze for a second, the word sending a ripple of arousal down his body. You were his baby and now you were calling him that. His little brat. But you've just made a huge mistake addressing him as such. His thumb speeds up. Your hands tighten around his shoulder, your head pressed against your pillows as your mouth drew open in a moan as he draws you closer and closer to the edge. His lips pressed against yours in a hungry kiss that had you so close to the edge.

And then again, he stops. You whine out in outrage, eyes flying open as you stomped around on your bed, "Oh my god! Taehyung!"

"Nuh uh," he tsks. "Let's try it again, what's my name?"

You turned away from him in disobedience. His free hand cupped your chin forcing you to look at him, "Be a good girl and tell me what's my name."

You bit into your tongue to keep you from calling him as such since he'd just ruined your orgasm for a second time. Instead, you snuck your hand between your bodies and went to your own core only for the hand that had been playing with your pussy to stop you. He's going to fuck you, no question about it, but do you deserve it after everything you've put him through?

"I'm gonna tell you this," he gripped your wrist watching you squirm, "If you don't behave, you don't get to cum. So listen to daddy, alright?"

"No," you said defiantly and it made your cunt leak as you continued to disobey. His dark expression didn't falter, "Listen here you little brat. If you want me to give you what you want then you're going to cooperate. This isn't going to be one way."

You still refused. It wasn't until you felt him begin to retract did you claw at him, "Wait Taehyung, plea—"

"Nuh uh. Don't call me Taehyung," he warned, "Don't get shy on me now. What did you call me earlier?"

Finally giving up on the attitude you let out a sigh. "... Please, daddy. I promise I'll be good."

That makes his insides melt, tugging down his jeans and briefs he kicks them off freeing the hardened cock you'd been teasing in the elevator. He grasps your chin softly this time and leans in, kissing your nose affectionately. "Good girl."

He lines himself up with your entrance and gently, he pushed in. You both should have probably checked for protection but in the heat of the moment it slipped from your minds. You'd both been only talking to each other for weeks and you were loyal to it and so was he. He waits a moment for your walks to stop tightening around him attempting to push him back out. Once your body is used to his girth, with a hold on your hips he drags himself out and in one go thrusts forward.

"Mmm," he groans into your neck, his body pressed against roughly against his as his hips began a steady pace thrusting into you, "So tight baby, am I making you feel good?"

"S-so good daddy," you moaned hiding your face in his neck as well letting your tongue lick along his skin, "But I wanna cum. 'M gonna cu—"

It wasn't your fault. You'd been worked up since the club and considering you haven't been with anyone else and he's refused to fuck you till now you're beyond frustrated. It made you turn sweet.  "I'm sorry," you huff. "For being a brat and mouthing off and being bad... Or whatever but I wanna cum, please!"

"Not yet baby," he growled knowing that if you came now he'd have to get out and he was having too much fun fucking you right now. But the second he told you no it's like your switch flipped again. You had been sweet so he gives you what you want and he's still keeping it from you.

"You can't tell me when I can and can't cum," you said rolling your eyes and bucking your hips quicker, "I can do whatever I want."

With a deep grunt he snuck his hand under your arched back forcing you off the bed. Your legs hugged his waist as he sat you down on his thighs sitting on his haunches for support. Like that his hands gripped the roundness of your ass and lifted you up, "Oh you can? Let me hear it then. Say it again."

You tried to sink onto his cock again but his hold was tight keeping you from doing so. You were whining now as you wiggled, "Tae!"

Smack.

You jumped as he slapped your ass making sure you don't get more than just his tip, "Come on say it. Say you can do whatever you want and let's see if that's true."

"Ta—" Smack.

You groaned now close to tears as he kept you from cumming until finally, you listened.

"Please daddy," you cupped his face making him look at your rounded eyes, "Please I need you."

Mmm. He was crumbling, his cock twitched at the softness of your touch. So sweet and caring, you really were. His sweet girl.

"You need me?" He grunts, letting you slide down his length slowly. "Thought I couldn't tell you when you can and can't cum?"

"Please, please, please," you whimper, "Please, daddy, I need you." He liked that. He liked that it wasn't you wanting him like you want other things. It was you needing him.

"God, I love you," he confesses breathlessly, bouncing you on his cock letting you take control of the speed and force. He hasn't meant to say it but it slipped out and he would never take back something that was true. Especially not when it had you screaming as he held you down taking his entire length rutting into you back and forth hitting every nerve in your pussy making you see stars. You didn't even give a warning as you came undone impaled on his cock.

His eyes squeezed shut urging every muscle in his body to hold back from cumming in your tight walls feeling you tremble in his bare hug. And just when he thought you were finished, you pried his hands off you scooting out of his grip and falling into the bed. He had no time to process it as you made your way over and swallowed his hard dick in your mouth.

He grunts, low and animalistic in when he cums. A hand in your hair as you swallowed load after load of thick, creamy release in your mouth.

"Holy shit," he gasped out releasing your hair carefully as he swallowed back heaves of air panting. His hair was stuck to his face from sweating and he looked down at you breathing through his mouth. You were sliding your lips off his softening cock as his hand combed your hair back affectionately. You licked at the corners of your mouth where a little bit of cum has dribbled out and stared up at him.

Without thinking he leaned forward for a kiss dropping you back down onto your back. He fell on to your side caressing your face as his eyes locked with yours, "Do you know what this means?"

"What?" You asked looking back at him. Your eyes fluttered shut when he placed soft kisses on your neck.

"This means, I'm your boyfriend," he muttered hugging your stomach, "If you'll have me that is. If you don't think I'm too mean."

"I do think you're too mean," you told him honestly wrapping a hand around the arm thrown over your stomach, "But I like it and I like you. Does this mean we're dating?"

"We have been dating," he tells you snuggling further into you, "But this is me trying to make it official honey."

        By morning you woke up a little earlier than him. You shook him until he was rolling off you with a grunt and it took more effort to wake him.

"Baby," he whined rolling back onto you, "Sleep just a little longer."

"I'm not tired," you said sitting up shaking him, "Come on wake up."

He could hear the attitude in your voice but he refused. You leaned over to whisper in his ear, "Please daddy?"

His eyes shot open looking back to you as you feigned innocence through your eyes. You smiled, "Let's get showered and then have breakfast."

"I don't want to go out for breakfast, I just want to stay in," he sighed finally trying to wake up a little.

"Please?" You asked again, "I want you to teach me how to make pancakes."

"You want to cook?" He looked visibly taken back. This is not how your last conversation on cooking went. You nodded your head laughing a little at how clearly confused he seemed.

You see. You weren't always a brat. You were sweet and gentle after you got what you wanted. And he'll always give it to you even if he makes you work for it. He smirked pointing at his cheek, "Give me a kiss here and I'll be up."

Doing one better, you kissed him softly on the lips making his heart race. Oh god you were hot and cute at the same time. He can already tell his future with you would be exciting, and now he has someone to introduce his grandparents to.

"Okay let's go shower."

::.

this is 100% Tae in the first car scene after the banquet when he told Y/n no

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[bigtreefest]

Chapter 1: Digging For Gold

From: You Catch More Bees With Honey Series

Pairing: Mob! Bucky x Farmer! Reader

Summary: Bucky doesn’t always have to personally negotiate his business dealings, but what happens when one of them insists they’ll only deal with him? He heads out to the country to get it sorted, of course.

Word Count: 2,167

Content/Warnings: light mob themes, mentions of misogyny/ Bucky’s attempt at it, fem reader with minimal descriptions, minimal use of y/n, use of a pet name (Honey), Sam and Steve teasing Bucky and Bucky having none of it. Content below the cut.

Author’s Note: Well here it is— my first fic publication! I literally never write, but I’ve felt so motivated to get this down. Idek how I wrote this many words bc lord knows I’m not doing the same for school. Anyway, I digress. I hope you all enjoy. Comments, suggestions, asks, and reblogs are soooo appreciated!! Dividers by @firefly-graphics

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Bucky was used to being turned down at first. In the fact, he was used to being turned down two, three, four times before getting his way. He always got his way, until it came to you. He had been trying to seal this deal for what was going on months now. Usually by his fifth ask, his clients got some sense into them, and in this case, sense means a threat of lead through the heart by a henchman. But that hadn’t phased you at all. If anything, it encouraged you to keep pushing back. A real piece of work, this girl was. Each time someone went to negotiate, they came back with their head hung low, sending in their boss to deal with her next as she had requested. Just for that cocky bastard to leave and come back doing the same. Why were they giving into your requests? They couldn’t help themselves when you had that convincing way about you, and neither could Bucky, even if he wanted to deny it to everyone around him. After months of asking for the next boss, you had finally reached James Buchanan Barnes: the head of his mob. Known for his ruthless nature, no one had ever come out of a deal saying ‘no’ to him. If they said no, they didn’t come out of the deal, simple as that. No one had seen his soft spots, and his buttons weren’t to be pushed. Too many had found out the hard way. The only one who could get away with it was his best friend who had known him since childhood Steve. More like a brother, and his only family left, at that. But it looked like he had a soft spot for you, letting you get away with dismissing these meetings, which is exactly why he needed to go himself: to show he wasn’t soft. To show that he could close the deal and his men lacked discipline when they fell to your kind charm. He’d go to this meeting and then wash his hands of the issue, making the deal he decided he had wanted months ago. He got into the back of his black town car and shut the door, directing the driver to start the long journey to the farm.

As he sat in the car, he wondered why the partition was up, as he heard singing faintly coming from the other side. He pushed the button for it to come down, to be greeted by a familiar pair of blue eyes that belonged to his best friend Steve and the back of Sam’s head.

“Oh heyyy boss. Fancy seeing you here,” Sam said keeping his eyes on the road and turning down the radio.

“Where’s Gio?” Bucky barked back.

“Oh calm down. He’s home relaxing with his family. Sam and I gave him the day off. Figured you’d need our help,” Steve said with a small shrug.

Bucky grumbled to himself something about being the boss while Steve and Sam exchanged a quick glance in the front seat before Sam spoke up again.

“Listen Boss, she’s already been through both of us. Obviously we can’t tell you how to succeed, but we can tell you what to expect going in there.”

“Plus we can remind you what we’re really here for and give you back-up none of us had the luxury of” Steve interjected, “the fact that you’ve waited this long shows you’ve got a soft spot for her, and we can’t afford to push this deal back any farther.”

Bucky knew that. He knew it was coming down to the wire “First off, I do not have a soft spot. Not since I was little, and you know that. I’d have anyone else’s head for even thinking such a thing. And second, if it’s so easy, why couldn’t you two have sealed this deal last month when you went, then? Huh?”

At that, Steve snapped his mouth shut and Sam kept his head forward, not daring to glance back at the mob boss whose jaw was clenched with anticipation.

“That’s what I thought. But go ahead, speak now or forever hold your peace, because when I go in there, I need to come out with a deal.”

He’d never let anyone besides his right-hand and number three men know how on edge he was for this meeting. He looked out the window hoping for the best and that his hard outer persona wouldn’t crack today as Sam and Steve started with their briefing.

When Sam pulled off of the pavement and onto the dirt driveway, Bucky’s eyes absorbed the rolling hills and abundant trees. It was beautiful, but nothing like his city. He enjoyed the tight spaces and routine rigidity of concrete. This was a different world. Her land was sprawling, far further than the crop fields sat. Acres for the cattle to graze and others that laid fallow. It was built over old mines. That’s why he wanted it all: for the tunnels. It would be so much easier to store and move his product, cutting transportation time and having discreet underground facilities if he could just strike a deal, but he’d finally met his match without even meeting her yet. A woman just as stubborn as him, but opposite in every other way.

Sam pulled up in front of a beautiful farm house. Modest, but chic and well cared for. Leaning against one of the posts that framed the front porch was her. Hair hidden under a cowgirl hat, well worn from work-filled days and in a flannel shirt, jeans, and boots showing even more mileage than the hat. Bucky looked out the window and let out a deep breath.

“Wish me luck, boys”

They both just nodded. A more than sufficient acknowledgment in their line of work. Bucky opened the car door and his red bottoms crunched the rocks beneath his feet as he sauntered over to her.

“Ms. Y/L/N. This has been a long time coming.”

“Indeed it has. Good to see you Mr. Barnes. And please, call me Y/N.” Her voice twanged.

Then she flashed him that smile, ugh how he hated that. She wasn’t even trying, but it made him feel an odd warmth that started deep in his chest. One that almost made it seem like it made his heart melt a little. A heart that was stuck in an ice age for as long as he could remember. Still, he couldn’t budge. He had to set an example for his men. How could he push an agenda he couldn’t fulfill? His thoughts continued to race as he stepped up to the bottom of the wooden steps leading to the porch. Not a good start with her literally having the high ground.

“Do your drivers want to come in? I don’t mind gettin’ them some refreshments while we chat.” She offered kindly. How was she so smooth? Bucky glanced back and Steve and Sam gawked at you though Steve’s window. Bucky made a mental note to have that tinted more so no one could see them embarrassing him and themselves in the future.

“No. They’re fine.” Bucky coldly, borderline spat back. “And you can call me by my name, as well, if we’re not doing last names. That’s mostly what I do with those I work closely with”

Bucky wanted to have a firm hand in these business dealings, but he wasn’t a total monster, plus, he knew in most cases, the more comfortable a client was, the more likely they’d give up benefits, sweetening up his own end of the deal. See? He was still working on wrapping you around his finger. He had this down, even if Steve and Sam didn’t think so. At least, that’s what he tried to convince himself as you nodded with a soft smile on your face and led him inside.

Bucky followed you past a living room, flanked by a functional and methodically laid out kitchen. That gave him a better idea of who he was working with: someone who meticulously planned their work environment. Someone who cared for every aspect no matter how small. Everything had a place and made sense. Nothing unnecessary was present and it seemed ergonomic, yet modern and classy, like everything about you. His gaze lingered as long as he could until he had to pull his head forward to continue following you down the hallway to your home office. Once again, practical and functional, with a few papers strewn around a laptop and your other useful desk features. You had everything you needed in arm’s reach, no need to tuck it away in drawers if you were constantly using it and you kept it organized enough that it wasn’t a stressful mess. You gestured for Bucky to take a seat on the couch across from you as you sat in your desk chair and flashed him a smile. Ugh there was that smile again, and this time it got him good and he couldn’t help but dopily smile back, not even aware of what his body was doing.

“James” oh how he hated when you called him that. Sure, it was his formal business name, but the way you said it made him grimace. Yeah, it sounded beautiful from your lips, but its use meant your weren’t close. And that’s all he wanted. Was for you to be close. Up against him, on top of him, engulfing him, drowning him. And he would happily accept that fate. Heck, he was drowning right now in these thoughts about you, but he clawed his way to the surface and shook his head to refocus as you said his name again, noticing his attention had drifted in favor to a blank stare at your lips. He knew with that slip-up, he had to regain control and take charge.

“Listen Honey, you’ve essentially been exterminating every guy I send in here and I don’t like it. All you are is sweet but somehow you’re turning down this deal like a bitter old man would” His sudden stern and almost condescending tone was a huge juxtaposition to the wonderland face you had noticed moments ago. You didn’t like that one bit. Being an independent woman who ran a successful business, you were used to men trying to stomp on you until they had their way. You didn’t stand for it with all of Bucky’s underlings and you weren’t going to stand for it now. You’d regain control and keep your calm demeanor, because you’re that much better than all these other mediocre men in business you dealt with all too often.

“First off, James. Let’s not get into extermination or pesticides. That’s far too complicated of an issue for right now, especially if you don’t understand the simple terms I so graciously asked you for. And if you wanna call something honey, you better be referring to my beehives on the south side of the property. Now, I just want to talk to you so you can see where I’m coming from” you said was a sickeningly sweet smile. He could see it didn’t reach your eyes, still filled with fire and not backing down. But dang if your tone still didn’t match the new nickname he’s given you. Sweet and thick. Bucky for the first time found himself listening to demands from another. He settled down into the couch cushions as you pulled out the contract you’d drafted yourself.

Bucky raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, fine. By all means, let’s get down to business. I wanna see what’s been giving all my men such a hard time that you’ve had to come directly to me.”

Bucky leaned forward to grab the contract from your hands. He flipped through the pages, most of it was identical to what he’d drafted, besides you inflating the numbers. He could handle that, but the last line he saw made his neck muscles go limp as he dropped his head.

“James Barnes will work and stay at the farm for one month’s time, uninterrupted, to learn the gravity, value, and hard work associated with operations.”

He should’ve known, but what was one month? If he was going rn use the mines, he may as well see all the land and livestock that could be affected if things went awry. He’s been doing this job for years, anyway. Maybe he needed the break. He’s sure Steve could control everything else, right? He wouldn’t have waited so long for this deal had he not needed the mine shafts. Your smooth voice broke him out of his thoughts.

“So… what’ll it be, James?”

He looked up at you through his lashes with a smirk you couldn’t quite read as you returned your own smirk, knowing what this meeting meant. Knowing that he wouldn’t have come in person unless he really wanted to make a deal happen.

“Sure Honey, whatever you want”

Next>

[gartenofbanny]

Barbie Wire..oh boy what a mess she is. Barbie Wire isn't that much of a mess because of how she's written, she's a mess because of how little she has. Out of all the antagonists in Helluva Boss, Barbie Wire has the most missed opportunities, which is sad to even think about. This is a character that has been recognized by the fandom ever since the pilot was released yet in her debut she has lesser screentime than Verosika Mayday. Who knew that Blitzo's ex would get more screentime than Blitzo's actual relative, but screentime isn't the only problem I have with this character. Viv and her crew had a couple opportunities to mention or show Barbie Wire in previous episodes or even outside the show, but they didn't for some reason. Despite Viv stating that Helluva Boss mainly centers around Blitzo and his history, they never expanded on Barbie Wire, who is Blitzo's sister.

The Circus

The Circus was the first episode in Season 2 showing Blitzo and Stolas as children. While most of the episode centered around Stolas and Blitzo, we got to see Blitzo's childhood for the first time. What his occupation was, how his father treated him, his relationship with Fizzarolli, and how he first met Stolas...wait..that's it. Those were the only things we actually saw in The Circus.

Despite literally being Blitzo's twin, Barbie Wire wasn't shown or mentioned once throughout this entire episode. They instead gave that sibling-like role to Fizzarolli who isn't even related to Blitzo at all. Barbie Wire wasn't even mentioned by Cash Buckzo when he tried to convince Blitzo to steal from Stolas' home.

There were people assuming that this character right here is Barbie Wire, but different horn patterns. So an episode showing Blitzo's childhood for the first time doesn't even show Barbie Wire once, what a great start.

Lack of Hype

Barbie Wire had very little hype for her character as time was going on. Viv and the other creators did very little to showcase her or even try to make an attempt to hype her up, the fandom has acknowledged and appreciated Barbie Wire's existence more than the creators themselves have. Let that sink in.

For this section, I'm gonna bring up a character that actually had hype and that's Andrealphus. Now personally, I don't believe Andrealphus was planned until Season 2 was being developed because you'd think a character like him would be mentioned way more especially by Stella in Season 1. Anyway, Andrealphus had some hype surrounding him with his design and role released in February 2022

And in one of the teasers of Western Energy, we actually get a gif of his Frozen-themed birthday cake-shaped manor hyping up his character even more. While he was underwhelming as hell in his debut, people were looking forward to the episode just to see him for the first time.

Are there any gifs featuring Barbie Wire for Unhappy Campers? No, there aren't. The only gifs that advertise Unhappy Campers are three gifs of Moxxie and Millie in their mediocre human disguises.

People only knew that Barbie Wire was going to be in this episode due to a teaser trailer for Helluva Boss that was released last year. I'm pretty sure some folks didn't even know that Barbie Wire was even gonna be in this episode getting into it.

I almost forgot to mention, the latest merch sale for Helluva Boss completely forgot to mention the new Barbie Wire pin that was released. Not sure how the hell they missed that, but I'm pretty sure it was intentional.

Very little screentime

Barbie Wire does not have much screentime and the screentime she does have doesn't really explain much of her character. Half of her screentime consists of her fighting Moxxie and Blitzo and the other half of her screentime consists of her shit talking Blitzo and we don't have a clue as to why she hates his brother.

Barbie Wire has more screen time being mentioned by Blitzo and other demons than she actually appearing in the episode itself. Hell Barbie Wire legit has more screen time just being featured in posters or being mentioned by other characters in previous episodes than she does in her actual appearance in Unhappy Campers overall.

Remember when the robotic version of Fizzarolli was introduced in the beginning of Loo Loo Land and was the antagonist throughout the entire episode. What the hell happened to that? Oh I know, Helluva Boss as of recently loves to maintain two or three plots which makes the pacing out of order which as a result makes the character screen time shorter.

Lady Blitzo

Personality-wise, Barbie Wire is just Blitzo but female. She uses her body to manipulate people to get what she wants, works for an illegal business, hates damn near everybody, is violent as hell, and blames others for her failures. There are very few differences between Barbie Wire and Blitzo, I know that there probably are differences but I don't know what exactly those differences are because we don't know a lot about Barbie Wire. More on that later.

Her Human Disguise

I never had a problem with Barbie Wire's true form because I don't care about her looking exactly like Blitzo. She's literally his twin, why wouldn't they look the same? It is one thing for Crimson and Moxxie to look alike since they're father and son, but it's understandable that Barbie Wire looks like Blitzo.

wait did Barbie Wire get a redesign?

But what isn't understandable or even makes sense is Barbie Wire's human form looks very similar to Velvette as a Sinner.

Why does Barbie Wire, a Hellborn demon from Helluva Boss look somewhat like an older version of Velvette a sinner from Hazbin Hotel? This is the second new character in a row who looks like an already-designed character. And like the 5th character overall who has a design similar to a previously made character.

And why the hell are her forearms so huge but everything else is thin? I know Blitzo has big forearms but isn't he also muscular? It makes some sense with his build but Barbie Wire isn't muscular at all. She's literally a fallen-off pop star junkie.

Vivziepop has been drawing and designing for almost a decade as a hobby and as an occupation yet she can't make a design that doesn't have remnants of an already-made design. Too many characters look similar to each other in both Hazbin and Helluva that sometimes you forget who is who.

They can literally do so much with Barbie Wire's human disguise, but they just made her look like Velvette but skinnier.

Lack of character story

There's..not much to Barbie Wire that actually answers questions that people had. The most popular one being, "Why does Barbie Wire hate Blitzo?" In Unhappy Campers we don't get a reason as to why Barbie Wire hates Blitzo, we just know that she hates him for some reason.

I still can't with Blitzo's puppy dog eyes

At least when Verosika made her debut in Spring Broken we're given a few lines as to why Verosika just despises Blitzo. Blitzo ran away with her car all the way to Wrath and maxed out her credit card on horse riding lessons and possibly never came into contact with her again up until Spring Broken. And in Ozzie's we're given even further clues as to why Verosika hates Blitzo as she literally insults him in the last few lines of her portion of "House of Asmodeus". But with Barbie Wire, Blitzo's blood related twin sister, we get nothing. We just know that she hates Blitzo and never wants to speak with him again.

We don't even know anything about her personally either. What was her relationship with Fizzarolli like? What was her relationship with Verosika like? Why did Verosika insult her? How did she obtain an Asmodean Crystal? All of these questions, no canonical answers. Just fan theories and speculation which..is a huge ass problem with Helluva Boss and to an extent Hazbin Hotel too.

Conclusion

Barbie Wire is unfortunately a wasted potential and a huge missed opportunity writing wise and at this point I'm not even looking forward to the new characters at this point especially the female ones because I know the writers won't do the characters any good. Thank you all for reading and I hope you all have a nice day!

[tsukasalover]

we are so back with a tenma house analysis

The Tenma House

The Tenma’s living room

The Tenma household’s living room is a large space with several things that can show that the Tenmas are very wealthy and also a loving family who strongly appreciate each other. 

•On their couch, a star pillow with Tsukasa’s name sewn onto it, a flower pillow (three of these are seen on Saki’s bed,) and Alicorn plushie can be seen.

•On a small stand closer to the doors leading outside, yellow tulips and white clovers can be seen in pots. These flowers are shown in Saki and Tsukasa’s 2022 and 2023 Birthday cards. Next to these flowers are what seems to be a money tree, which is often associated with wealth and good luck.

I would like to mention that there are several important things on the shelf besides their couch which can tell us more about them. 

•A brochure from the “Happy Phoenix” show that Saki and Tsukasa saw when they were younger can be seen. 

•There seem to be several photos where the Tenma family is together, two photos most likely being wedding photos. 

•What might be eucalyptus can be seen in two pots on their shelf. Eucalyptus is known for being a symbol of strength, protection, abundance, purity, and the ability to cleanse spaces of negative energy. 

 (I’m honestly not sure if this counts, but their hinadan seems to be located somewhere in their living room or nearby it. Their upright piano is also somewhere in their living room, but it hasn’t been stated where exactly.)

Tsukasa’s room

Tsukasa’s room is interesting. it’s a large loft room, and one that can be hard to infer too much information about him at a first glance. of course, keep in mind that nothing has been explicitly stated about just WHY his room looks this way, but here’s a few different things that i personally think about it.

Tsukasa’s room gives off the impression of a stage. There’s a lot of space to work with, specifically his large mat in the center. This can fit for how he might need somewhere to practice indoors for all sorts of shows. His room also reminds me of a stage due to how there isn’t much privacy, like the audience below is supposed to have their eyes on him whenever possible. 

As much as I think Tsukasa might not mind the lack of privacy, which could make sense considering his childhood and his confident behavior, it also feels a bit strange to dedicate so much of your OWN room for yourself to being like a spot for a performance. Despite this, there are things that really do have symbolism in his room. 

His large mirror and the lamp being used as a spotlight makes it a perfect place to strike poses and practice.

Another thing that looks like a spotlight is the little hole on his ceiling, which lets light shine onto his mat.

In Tsukasa’s closet, we can see cardboard boxes. This is just my own speculation, but in an area conversation with Miku, Kaito, and Nene, Miku says that they always carry the plushies performing in their next shows around in cardboard boxes. Considering the fact that everything in Wonderland Sekai can reflect something from Tsukasa’s entire psyche, there’s a possibility that his and Saki’s plushies could also be in these boxes in his closet.

Several trophies can be seen more clearly in his cabinet during the nighttime. These may be trophies from piano contests.  

When compared to Saki’s bed, Tsukasa’s bed is much more neatly done and lacks any sort of plushies or extra pillows on it. This could simply be showing how he likes to stay quite tidy most of the time, and due to the fact that he moves around in his sleep a lot, he might not want to have too many extra things on his bed. (Mentioned in MEIKO’s [Tell Me About Your Christmas ♪] card side story part 2)

Saki’s room

Much more colorful and full of things than Tsukasa’s room, Saki’s room gives us more obvious information about her personality and all sorts of little details about her. At a first glance, we can see that she seems to be a cheerful girl, having a vanity to do her makeup at and pictures hung up and on her board, most likely of her loved ones and herself. 

•Her photo frames are the colors associated with Leo/Need. These photos seem to show plants and scenery like the sea and a hill with a tree on it.

•Saki has several star themed things in her room, such as glowing stars on her ceiling, stars hanging over the area leading out to her balcony, a star clock, nightlight, Leo/Need colored pin on her cork board, and star nightlight. 

•Her bed isn’t as neatly done as Tsukasa’s, and has three flower pillows and a bunny pillow on it. This may be due to her own preference or possibly not moving around in her sleep as much as Tsukasa does.

•There seems to be a round white table somewhere in her room, which is moved in front of her bed in Ichika’s [Our New Song’s Goal] card.

•Her closet is right by her school uniform and her door is closer to her makeup vanity.

[lihhelsing]

Three is a party

Written for the STWG Daily Prompt (01/03)

Prompt: Birthday party

No Warnings | Eddie Munson & Wayne Munson | Minor Steddie | wc: 564

When Wayne got back from work, the trailer was immersed in darkness. It’s not unusual, but Eddie was a night owl so it was likely he wasn’t home. Which was… Fine. Wayne had missed him this morning before he left for his mandatory community service because he was extra tired from last night’s shift and Eddie hadn’t been back before he had to leave for work. 

That was also unusual, but Wayne just missed his nephew some days. And today was… Definitely one of those. 

Assuming Eddie wasn’t home, Wayne let his hand find the light switch so he could see something. His eyes were not the same as they used to be and Wayne knew his time in the night shift was coming to an end. 

He knew Eddie would be over the moon with that because it was going to mean they would have more time together, but Wayne kept worrying about how bad that would be for their financial situation. 

“You worry too much, old man,” Eddie would say despite him constantly switching jobs. It didn’t bother Wayne because he wanted Eddie to do something he actually liked instead of settling for some boring job, so he would hold down the fort for as long as he could. 

The light flooding the trailer revealed two surprises for Wayne. The first one being Eddie, sound asleep at their kitchen table. The second one was a small cupcake with a candle stuck in it. 

Out of nowhere, Eddie raised his head and half-yelled 'Surprise' as he extended his hands to show his birthday cake. Birthday… Cupcake? He still looked sleepy and it made Wayne think back to when Eddie was just a kid. 

It made his heart swell inside his chest. 

“Hey, kid,” Wayne smiled and walked over to him, patting his head. His hair was even messier than usual from him sleeping at the kitchen table. “What’s this?”

“Birthday!” Eddie said, voice coming out all groggy. Wayne chuckled and moved to the sink so he could get a glass of water. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” Wayne said between gulps and Eddie shook his head, getting up and fighting the lack of balance. 

“Of course I did! It’s your birthday, old man. It’s not every day you turn…”

“56,” Wayne supplied and Eddie clapped his hands. 

“56! So I thought a birthday party was necessary!”

Wayne smiled and leaned back on the counter. “Not necessary, kid. But I appreciate it.”

Eddie smiled, pleased with himself. And that was the only reason why Wayne had to tease him. 

“But I would hardly call it a birthday party with just two people,” Wayne pointed out and Eddie rolled his eyes. 

“STEVE!” he yelled and Wayne winced, wondering where Eddie had learned to be so loud. 

After a few seconds, Steve emerged from Eddie’s room, walking slowly and clearly still half asleep. 

“I was just joking. You didn’t have to wake your boy up,” Wayne said and Eddie pushed his shoulder playfully. 

“Well, it’s a party now! Are we signing Happy Birthday or what?”

Wayne would never really say it out loud, but standing in his kitchen, blowing out a candle that was way too big for that small cupcake, and clapping alongside his favorite person in the world and the boy who made him the happiest was probably one of Wayne’s favorite memories. 

[issdisgrace]

Hiya it’s my birthday in about three days and I was wondering if u could write a fic of Otis and his family celebrating readers birthday (preferable reader is dating Otis) I wanna know if they’d have any fun firefly traditions :3 (he/they pronouns for readerpls)

CELEBRATING YOUR BIRTHDAY WITH THE FIREFLY FAMILY

WARNINGS: Murder, mayhem, the usual Firefly family antics, little nsfw

A/N: This was intended to be a fic but I didnt quite know how to put my thoughts into a coherent fic. Also I’m trying to get out of writers block so sorry if it kinda lacking. But HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! I hope you have a good birthday.

There are two things that a certain when celebrating anything in the Firefly family, those being alcohol and murder.

But the whole day isn't spent partaking in those things.

The morning starts off with Otis waking you up for breakfast and you two getting a little hot and heavy before heading down for food. Both of you getting teased for your slightly disheveled appearance.

Otis told them to fuck off that it was your birthday so you got to enjoy yourself. You agreed and the family moved on from it.

You guys then had a nice breakfast before all piling into the living room to watch something of your choice. You guys ended watching tv for a couple hours before it was time for your first gift.

Your first gift was from Baby who got you a young married couple to play with and make pretty. You appreciated the gift and spent the next couple of hours playing with and making them pretty in crimson until they both unfortunately died.

But what was not unfortunate was by the time you were done and cleaned up a little lunch was done. They made all your favorite foods which was nice and very delicious but that could have also been the fact that Spaulding was the one that cooked everything with only some help from the others.

Anyway after lunch the family gave your gifts that weren’t people.

Spaulding got you a taxidermy racoon and possum cuddling because why not. Also he said that it reminded him of you and Otis. You being the racoon reminded and Otis being the possum.

Mama, Tiny, and RJ got you some movies and tv shows that they thought you would like and enjoy.

Baby got you a nice blanket and made you a voodoo doll of Otis so you could prick it when he made you mad or annoyed you. Which Otis grumbled about saying that he wasn’t that bad and a voodoo doll of him wasn’t needed.

Then Otis, your love, your man. He painted the two of you using god knows who blood. But it was very well done, very detailed, and very pretty. You were already thinking of where you were going to hang it up. So you could see the master piece everyday.

But I digress after lunch and gifts, you and Otis spent a little one on one time in your guys room fooling around. Otis offering his whole self to you to do whatever you pleased with him.

And all the while you guys were having fun the rest of the family was setting up the main event of the night. They got a shit ton of alcohol, set up a big bonfire to burn, and got the bunnies ready for the night.

Once it was dark the family came and got you and Otis. You got the honors as the birthday boy to light the bonfire. You also got to hunt the first bunny of the night before the others got to hunt theirs.

Anyway you all got plastered, had fun, played a couple of games, joked around, got bloody, and you snuck off once or twice with Otis but that’s beside the point.

You had an overall great birthday, got some nice gifts, had a nice time, and you couldn’t wait for your next birthday.

[boneblushed]

Untouchable

masterlist | part 3 | part 4

synopsis It is crucial that the head boy and girl of Kildare Academy learn to work together. Too bad the head girl is you and the head boy is Rafe Cameron.

wc 3.2k

“Alright, so the last thing we need to — guys,” you falter, scrubbing a tired hand down your face. Though you’re well aware that Friday afternoons are the worst possible time to hold a prefect meeting, they’re a once monthly affair that are otherwise unavoidable.

“Oi!” yells Rafe beside you, his voice commanding where yours is frustrated, rough around the edges.

He crosses his arms in the pause that follows, the broad expanse of his bicep nudging body heat into your shoulder. And it doesn’t help that he smells of familiar things — chlorine and sweat, notes of patchouli with vetiver musk. “Y/L/N’s speaking. Show some respect, yeah?”

The room quietens almost immediately, because of course it does.

You try to be grateful for his presence, you really do. But when the upperclassmen near the back—who haven’t so much as made eye-contact with you over the past half hour—straighten at the sound of his voice, it replaces any appreciation you had for him with ever-growing indignation.

Sure, Rafe Cameron may be bigger than you, more intimidating, with stronger forearms and broader shoulders and a shadow of rough stubble that — wait, what were you talking about, again? You blink. He needs to stop stepping in like he is and veering you off course.

Right. Rafe Cameron as the intimidating one.

How you recognise that his exterior may be more daunting than yours is, and presume that what you lack in height and width you make up for in tenacity. Doggedness. Why can’t they listen when it’s you making the announcements?

This isn’t the first time you’ve needed him to step in, either — at prefect meeting number three, now, it’s clear that the pair of you have opposing strengths and weaknesses. And in theory, this is probably a good thing; you as the organised one, him as your glorified bodyguard.

Except that, stubborn as you are, you don’t think that you need one of those. Especially not one with as big an ego as Mr. Kook Prince of Kildare Academy, Ward Cameron’s eldest son.

He glances down at you encouragingly, his features faltering at the expression on your face. Somehow, you’re able to make unimpressed look almost pretty. “First home game tomorrow,” he explains under his breath. “Probably why they’re all so distracted.”

You meet his eyes briefly, balk a little. He’s standing closer than you’d expected him to, the blue in his irises speckled by sunlight yellow. “Whatever.” You cough, turning back toward the classroom. “Alright. Do I have everyone’s attention?”

Beside you, Rafe shifts inscrutably, sending the room a remonstrating glare. If you weren’t so intent on proving your independence, you might’ve even found his dedication a little endearing.

But you don’t, the thought whizzing through your brain like the fleeting tail of a firework. “So,” you continue, “the last thing on our agenda is divvying up prefect duties for next month.” You duck down and pull it open on your laptop, the projector screen behind you flashing on in tandem. “To save everyone the trouble, I’ve gone ahead and drafted a rough schedule based on last month’s one.”

“Football season’s started though!” calls Kelce from the back, bolstered by grunts of approval from his teammates.

Rafe’s about to reprimand him on your behalf when you turn toward him, eyes widening pointedly. Don’t, you seem to say, to which Rafe’s brow furrows in a why not? sort of way.

You glare: I got this.

Rafe raises his eyebrows: I never implied that you didn’t.

You shake your head ever so slightly, stern, looking back to Kelce without another word. Rafe’s gaze lingers. “I was getting to that,” you say, frowning reproachfully. “The spreadsheet will be edit-able over the weekend, so feel free to get into it and make any changes you need to. Obviously, no duties should be left unfulfilled, so if you aren’t able to make one, you’re going to have to find a way to swap with someone who can.”

“Just the weekend?” Connor pipes up, followed by a murmur of collective assent. “But training’s tonight, game tomorrow —”

“How long is a football game, Walters?” You ask, raising your eyebrows.

“Kegger right after,” he adds pointedly, raising his in tandem.

You roll your eyes. “You know there are two days that make up a weekend, right?”

“We’re meant to sort this shit out when we’re hungover on Sunday now, Y/L/N?” Kelce asks, a glint of mischief in his otherwise dark irises. He’s pushing it, he knows he is, but he wants more of Rafe defending your honour to rub in Dalton’s face.

“Yes,” you deadpan.

“If you can handle an eighteen-hole at the fucking Club on a Sunday morning, Smith,” Rafe adds, much to your chagrin. “Then you can handle a prefect duty schedule.”

“Damn,” Kelce grins triumphantly, sitting back in his chair. “Aye aye, Captain.”

Rafe furrows his brow again, looking over the rest of the classroom, a warning. “Anyone else with something to say?”

There’s a low murmur of dissent, and several people shake their head in response. An angry warmth creeps up your neck, diffidence mixed with indignation.

“Alright then.” You can feel Rafe looking down at you, but you refuse to meet his gaze. “That was all from me… anyone with any last minute notices?”

“Oh, shit, yeah,” Rafe says then, angling back toward the crowd. His shoulder nudges yours again, too-broad and too-close, another waft of chlorine and musk. “My dad’s outta town this weekend, so party at mine after home game.”

As the room erupts into excited chatter, he ducks his head to eye-level, his rough timbre raising goosebumps on the shell of your ear. “You’ll come?”

The prefects are beginning to pack up their things, signalling the end of the meeting, so you allow yourself to turn your head and look up at him, your glare growing weak at the closeness of his face. “Why would I come?” You ask, breaking away abruptly and gathering your own belongings.

Rafe does the same, slinging his backpack over one shoulder. “Why wouldn’t you?”

“Because I’ve never been to one of your parties before?” You return, like it’s obvious. As you turn away and begin to walk toward the exit, you assume that Rafe will rejoin the boys in his football team. They straggle near the doorway, no doubt waiting to head for the locker-room, but he refuses to accede so quickly, following you out instead.

You glance up as he falls into step, his rough hand mussing his overgrown locks. “Can I help you?” You ask, bemused.

“That was before,” he says, answering your previous question. “We’re partners now.”

“Cameron!” calls Kelce, “Bro, you coming?”

“I’ll meet you guys out there,” Rafe replies easily, not bothering to turn his head to address him. “C’mon, Y/L/N. It’ll be fun.”

Maybe it’s the tone he uses, quietly superior with pity lacing the edges. Like you never get invited to parties. (You don’t, but that’s besides the point.) Like you aren’t capable of fun and he’s doing you some kind of favour.

You halt abruptly, pivoting to face him head on. He’s taken aback at first, but the surprise in his blue eyes melts away very quickly. Gives way to something deeper, thick as brown molasses.

You force yourself to ignore it. “You need to stop doing that,” you order.

“Doing what?” Rafe asks, frowning bemusedly.

“Stepping in and telling them off,” you sigh, grimacing abashedly. “I had it handled.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Half of them were falling asleep, Y/L/N. I just thought I’d wake them up a little.”

“What?” You accuse, folding your arms across your chest stubbornly. “Because I can’t?”

“Oh, you definitely can.” He raises his arms in surrender, running his tongue over his bottom lip as he looks over your pretty features. Something sultry about it. “This right here? This is you handling yourself just fine.”

You make a face, as if your heart isn’t stuttering at the timbre of his voice. “Then why?”

“Because we’re a team,” Rafe repeats, dropping his arms again. “I mean, shit Y/L/N, I wasn’t trying to undermine you. Not everything I do has some kind of ulterior motive.”

“Debatable,” you mutter.

“Including,” he adds pointedly, raising his eyebrows. “Inviting you to my party.”

“That I’m not going to,” you clarify.

Rafe shrugs. “Just being polite.” Just want to see you in something other than school uniform.

“Cute,” you say, turning away again. “Not happening.”

“Busy?”

“No.”

“Then why can’t you come?” Rafe asks, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly.

Your turn to shrug. “I just don’t want to.”

—

Rafe tries not to let your non-attendance get to him, he really does.

Tannyhill is a site to behold against the glow of purple dusk — alive with technicolor lights, the heavy bass reverberating through chilly Autumn. Upperclassmen flood every inch of the ground level of the mansion, empty bottles strewn over smooth marble countertops, outdoor beer pong games gaining momentum.

He just wants to be helpful. He feels guilty enough as is that you’re the one that’s organised almost every speech and conference so far — it’s the reason he’s piped up at every prefect meeting you’ve had, desperate to fill a role, prove he isn’t deadweight in this partnership.

But clearly that’s the last thing you want.

So he decides to change tact. If not to gain your approval, to have an excuse to text you in the middle of a fucking party that he’s hosting.

As if that isn’t the most pathetic thing ever.

“Oi!” He calls out, his voice still low and gruff, sweetened by the slur of liquor in his system. “Prefects only in the living room. Can the rest of you fuck off for a second?”

The space empties diligently, pulling in any prefects that were straggling on the deck. As his gazes moves over the group, he realises that every single one came to his party except you. His chest lurches abruptly.

“Alright,” he clears his throat, trying to ignore this feeling. Failing miserably. “Everyone get out their phones and open up the schedule spreadsheet.”

Kelce shares a knowing look with Dalton, triumph edging on amusement. “The prefect duty one?” He asks, feigning bemusement. “Why would we do that?”

“Because we’re all here,” Rafe replies, sliding his own phone out of his front-pocket. “So organising swaps will be real easy.”

Kelce raises his eyebrows, accedes. “Right.” He fake coughs, and it sounds like, “Simp.”

Connor, half a bottle of Fireball down, makes a noise like a whip-cracking from the back of the room.

“I’m serious,” Rafe says then, evidently unperturbed. “Get your phones out. I’m not going to ask again.”

“Dude,” Dalton replies, actually bemused now. “Relax. It’s a party.”

“Exactly,” Rafe responds, his gaze glued to the phone in his palm. “So the faster we do this, the faster you can get back to hitting on freshmen.”

The jibe pulls some stifled laughter from the crowd, and Dalton scowls abashedly, his stubbled face flushing.

It’s enough to force him to oblige, the rest of the prefects way ahead of him. As they converse amongst themselves, editing the spreadsheet as necessary, Rafe manages to capture a photo of them to send to you.

Cameron: [attached a photo] swapsies > pong

Maybe he doesn’t expect you to reply so quickly.

Y/L/N: are you trying to prove a point or something?

He frowns down at the message thread bemusedly; this isn’t the reaction he’d expected from you. He’d thought you’d be grateful to see them sorting out the schedule — to see him organising it, him being responsible for once.

He imagines pretty you in your pyjamas, rolling over on your bed to sigh at the photo. He realises that he’s already conceptualised a concerning amount of your room decor — simple, tidy, organised. Like you. In this imagined scenario, you’re wearing sweatpants and a singlet with a wafer of bare waist in between them.

His thoughts snag at the latter, the promise of glowing skin becoming quickly overbearing. He realises he thinks about touching you a lot, far more than he should.

Cameron: prove a point?

Y/L/N: that they listen to you more than they listen to me

Cameron: you know not everything’s a competition, yeah?

Y/L/N: maybe not to you

Cameron: I think the word you’re looking for is thank you, Y/L/N

Y/L/N: bite me

Rafe shouldn’t grin at the message, but he does anyway. He knows it’s the closest he’s going to get to gratitude; he can imagine you sighing again, rolling your eyes at the message before responding to it. The hem of your singlet riding up as you shift in your bed. More soft skin for him to touch.

He swallows thickly. He’s totally fucking fucked.

Cameron: gladly

—

“Well,” Cromwell beams, his crows feet deepening reverently, “it sounds like you two are really embracing your roles as head students.”

His rises from his chair by way of dismissal, looking between you genially. “Same time next month?”

“Looking forward to it, Crom-dog,” Rafe replies, grinning handsomely.

The nickname never fails to make you grimace—he’s the headmaster, for God’s sake—but you’re quick to fix your features, nodding and smiling in tandem. “We’ll get that plan for winter formal written up.”

“Always two steps ahead of me,” Cromwell resounds, making a noise of approval. “I like it.”

You smile wider, warmed by his praise, before turning and exiting the office. Rafe is close behind you, his chlorine and patchouli scent ever-present, and he’s quick to fall into your step as you enter the hallway.

“Winter formal plan?” He asks, raising his eyebrows. “Already?”

“Two steps ahead, Cameron,” you say, tapping your nose conspiratorially.

The gesture swells something fond in his chest, a wave before it crashes ashore. He taps his own nose, a question. “What does this mean?”

You fix him with a significant look, brushing the side of your nose again.

Rafe grins, resisting the urge to reach forward and do the same. The want to touch you is honest-to-God unbearable. “Fine. Don’t tell me. When’s our next meeting?”

“Friday?” You ask, turning away again.

You’re nearing the double doors that bring you out into the Academy’s entranceway, brilliant steeples shading the flagstone pavement. Beyond it is the carpark where Rafe’s pick-up sits.

“Friday,” Rafe confirms, and then he pauses, running his fingers through his hair. In the mood to play with fire, he adds, “You walking home?”

“Yeah?” You glance back at him, balk a little. There’s an alarming amount of sincerity swimming within his blue irises.

In the beat that passes, you think, he’s sweet when he wants to be. The other day, he’d offered to cover your lunchtime duty when you’d told him you had an assignment due. And he’d sent you that meme last week, the one about Taylor Swift that’d made you laugh unprompted. Sweet.

He gestures toward his pick-up in the distance. “Need a ride?”

Before this year, you would’ve declined almost immediately. There’s nothing you hate more than being indebted to someone, especially when that someone has an ego as big as Rafe’s.

Maybe you’re just being polite. Maybe you believe that it’s futile to fight it. Or maybe, and this revelation terrifies you the most, you’re starting to realise that he’s got a heart big enough to match it.

You shrug, changing trajectory and making for the carpark. “Yeah, sure.”

Rafe tries not to look taken aback. His eyes widen for a fraction of a second before his expression relaxes again, a roguish grin pulling up at his features. As he catches you up, he says, “Damn, Y/L/N. You’re not going soft on me, are you?”

You roll your eyes in response, fighting the smile that’s threatening to break through. “Not if I can help it, Cameron.”

You walk in tandem toward his pick-up truck, your shoulders brushing intermittently. Sudden jolts of static that you pretend—he pretends—aren’t leaving imprints of heat on your skin.

“Good.” Rafe nods approvingly, sliding his keys out of his back-pocket. “Need someone ‘round here keeping me in check.”

“Thought that’s what your dad was for, Cameron,” you muse, your tone playful.

Rafe hesitates, stumbling a step before regaining momentum. It makes you frown, this sudden break in his composure, how quickly he goes from faltering to pretending that he hasn’t.

“He’s outta town this weekend,” he coughs, avoiding your gaze. He tries for nonchalant, mussing his overgrown locks and adding, “You’re just gonna have to work overtime to make up for it, Y/L/N.”

Again? You want to ask. Is he ever actually around?

But that’s overstepping. “Maybe if he pays me for it,” you say, glancing over at him again.

There’s a pause as your eyes meet, something strong, almost aching, pulsing in the air between you. A crisp Autumn chill with a side of something sweeter.

You look away first.

“You can do better than Ward Cameron as your boss,” Rafe says, and you’re sure he’s insinuating something; you just don’t know what.

“Right,” you reply awkwardly, halting at his pick-up truck.

Another pause. “Shit, anyway,” Rafe says then, breaking the silence by patting the hood of his car. He clears his throat and plasters on a grin, the same blend of charming and handsome, clearly done talking about his father. “Shall we?”

You eye the vehicle faux-dubiously, sending him a pointed glance. “You’re not one of those, trigger-happy, love-to-rev-their-engine wannabe racer boys, are you?”

Rafe raises his eyebrows, his expression akin to mild amusement. “Careful Y/L/N,” he says. “That’s enough adjectives to tell me you’ve thought about this before.”

“Not an answer, Cameron,” you return, folding your arms across your chest.

“Hey,” he raises his arms in surrender, “I’m not any of those things when there’s a pretty girl in my car.”

You make a face, compensating for the way your cheeks warm at his words. “You better not be.”

“Yes ma’am,” he nods sincerely, opening the door for you before jogging to the driver’s side. “I’ll be on my best behaviour.”

You buckle in, raising your eyebrows at him. “Good.”

He returns this with a faux-glare, turning on the ignition. “No talking, Y/L/N. Best behaviour means concentrating on the road, and the road only.”

As his gaze moves down toward the gearshift, it snags at your bare thighs on the seat, your uniform skirt hiked up ever so slightly. So much for best behaviour. You in his pick-up truck is like an agonising game of look don’t touch.

The ride home is silent, as promised, broken only by the intermittent whistle of Autumn wind.

Once he’s pulled into your driveway and switched off the ignition, he makes a show of letting out an audible sigh of relief, wiping non-existent sweat off his brow.

“Funny,” you try to deadpan, though the mirth on your features shines through easily.

Rafe angles toward you seriously, and you’re struck by how much larger he looks inside his pick-up truck. He folds one of his arms around your head-rest, fixing you with a significant look. “Can I get you to fill out a quick survey before you leave?” He asks, pulling out his phone and turning the screen toward you. It reads: Were you happy with your service today? If yes, please tip, with buttons for 5%, 10%, and 15% below it.

A peal of laughter bubbles out of you, somewhere between exasperated and amused. “Funny,” you repeat, shoving him back playfully.

He cracks a grin, the spot in his chest that you pressed against glowing a metaphorical amber. “Have a good weekend, yeah?”

You smile in tandem, unbuckling and opening the door. “And you.”

“Oh, I will,” he replies, a rare moment of candour from easy-going, ego-as-big-as-his-heart Rafe Cameron. “Weekends without my dad around are always better than the ones that he’s here for.”

[thatbadadvice]

Help! My Girlfriend Didn't Appreciate The Awesome Present I Gave her

Dear Prudence, Slate, 9 January 2023:

Dear Prudence, 

My girlfriend thinks I’m trying to undermine her. How do I prove to her I’m not? My girlfriend “Katie” (33F) and I (30M) have been dating for three months, and so far it had been going very well. I even thought we could become very serious. However, something has changed, and I’m worried that she’s getting cold feet.

This all started a few days ago, when my parents dropped by my place to chat. Katie was in the kitchen, making the two of us dinner. My parents and Katie have met a couple of times before, and they seem to get along. Additionally, Katie’s normally very calm and easygoing. However, when my mom walked into the kitchen to help out, Katie seemed to become irritated. She said that she “prefers to cook alone,” and when my mom grabbed a knife and some carrots and started to chop them up for her, Katie asked her not to cut them because they have to be cut “a certain way.” Katie told my mom that she didn’t want help and demanded that she go back into the living room area.

I’d never seen Katie this upset, and I wasn’t happy with how she treated my mom. When my mom left the kitchen, I hugged her and said, “Sorry about that.” I asked Katie what was going on and she said nothing, but at the time, I was alarmed and suspicious. Later that evening, I had to get some groceries, and while I was at the supermarket, I decided to pick up some Midol as a nice gesture. I didn’t know if Katie was on her period, but knowing that she isn’t normally this irritable, it seemed possible to me and if she was, she might appreciate the gift. When I got back, Katie was watching the World Cup, and I silently placed the Midol on top of her bag. Katie gave me a weird look and asked why I had bought her Midol, and I said it was because of how she had acted with my mother earlier.

Katie did not like this explanation. She said she was annoyed because she didn’t want someone interfering with her cooking, not because she was on her period. She said it made her think that I don’t take her feelings seriously and am trying to “undermine the legitimacy of her emotions.” I explained that this wasn’t true, but I don’t know if she believed me. I think the damage might have been done. How can I salvage the relationship and win back Katie’s trust? — Midol Mishap

Dear Midol Mishap,

Does Katie usually have a problem with self-soothing, or does it mostly happen during meals where people enter her space uninvited and intentionally disregard her stated preferences when she tends to act out like this? Does bedtime/bathtime usually go okay? Can you drop her off at the office without tears and a tantrum? Figuring out the answer to this question will reveal the extent to which this relationship can be salvaged, but I think you're in for an uphill battle if silently leaving a box of bitch pills on a woman's purse doesn't have her running back into your arms with relief and appreciation for the thoughtful care you showed her while she was being a real cunt.

Usually women appreciate being told that their emotions are wrong, and welcome thoughtful explanations from men about how the things they have felt and experienced are incorrect due to being incongruent with a man's feelings and experiences. But some women, and it sounds like Katie might be one of them, lack the self-awareness necessary to recognize that the things they believe they think they interpret as being insulting, disrespectful, and patronizing are not that way because some dude somewhere said so.

It might be worth opening up a dialogue with your mother about how to handle Katie; I don't mean to suggest that all women are the same (that would be sexist, yikes!) but you have both experienced what it is like to be under the thumb of someone as cruel and controlling as Katie, and you may be able to offer each other some comfort while you figure out how to get the woman you've been fucking for three months back on the right path, in terms of her behavior and emotional regulation. Meds are a great start — Midol is an absolute miracle drug for shutting down an ungrateful cow — but you can't just crush it up over Katie's ice cream every night.

The right solution is going to necessarily involve some effort on Katie's part to tell you only what you want to hear and agree with everything you say, and she might just not be mature enough to do that kind of hard internal work right now. A lot of people wouldn't — they'd say they have a right to assert boundaries, be taken seriously as full human beings, and not have their legitimate concerns belittled as mere hormonal hysterics of an unstable female — but it's possible Katie is capable of real change. The next time she has one of her little episodes, try using a little babydoll to coax Katie into seeing what a silly little monkey she's being when she rejects the precious opportunity to bond with your sweet mama by letting her do whatever she wants no matter what. Katie could speak directly to the doll about how she believes she thinks feels until she's ready to express the emotions you want her to have.

If you try this, you might want to wait until after dinner, when the knives are put away, just in case. Best of luck, dear boy!

[snowmist-hashira]

[Headcanons: Commemorative Treats]

(Special) Tokitou Twins x Reader

Wattpad:(One shots) Tokito Twins x Reader Archive:Kimetsu No Yaiba: Tokitou Twins x Reader Details: ♠ Information ♠ Master list: ♠ Tokitou Twins ♠

Artist: なつ一 [natyuiti_haru]

Links; Twitter

I've been thinking of wanting to do something different for the twin's birthday, and this came into my mind~ I'm not sure if I'll create more HCs, but if I get inspired or have too many ideas for a one-shot, I might opt for a HC instead. If you'd like to be tag, you can ask or comment it~ Happy Birthday, Mui and Yui~💙💕 Tags: @aeolia18 / @demonslayeranimex / @thornrosekaori / @xaeoism / @cascadingleaves (Scheduled)

Celebrating the twin's birthday

* On August 8th, you decided to surprise the twins on their birthday by preparing meals and baking a cake for them.

* Unfortunately, they discovered your plans, but they were unaware it was for their birthday, so you played it cool, saying it was just for fun.

* To your surprise, your excuse provided them with a reason to pitch in and help you out, leaving you dumbfounded. Though they were unaware, they ended up assisting in the preparations for their own birthday celebration.

* Despite the unexpected turn of events, you carried on with the preparations.

* Yuichiro, being the older brother, displayed his culinary prowess in the kitchen. He deftly chopped ingredients with precision, showing impressive knife skills and ensuring no accidents occurred. Moreover, he moved with remarkable speed, effortlessly navigating around the kitchen.

* You were actually glad to be caught as with Yuichiro's help, everything fell into place smoothly, and you were genuinely glad that he caught you in the act.

* When it came to handling dangerous utilities, Yuichiro would take over from you. He didn't want you to get hurt during this 'just for fun' cooking session you had in mind.

* He considered it 'unnecessary' for you to risk getting hurt during the cooking session, completely unaware that it was all for their special occasion.

* While you had a moderate level of culinary skill, Muichiro's expertise in the kitchen was on the lower end of the scale since cooking wasn't exactly his forte.

* You found it adorable to see him fumbling with utensils, reminding you of your own early kitchen mishaps but still eager to lend a hand.

* Yuichiro's occasional scolding of Muichiro for mixing things up only strengthened your appreciation for their close sibling bond.

* Observing their interactions never failed to brighten your day; their sibling bond was truly unique and heartwarming. Witnessing their affectionate connection brought you immense joy, knowing that they shared such a special relationship.

* Yuichiro's occasional display of raising his voice towards his younger twin only goes to show how much he cares for him.

* Despite Muichiro's lack of kitchen skills and sometimes adding more tasks that burdened the three of you, it was evident that he genuinely wanted to help which was endearing

* When it came to taste testing, you knew you could trust Yuichiro completely. While you had some cooking skills and could prepare the younger twin's favorite food, you acknowledged that Yuichiro had a talent for elevating dishes and making them even better.

* “It’s a bit bland, you could add a pinch of salt.”

* His discerning palate and culinary expertise made him the perfect person to ensure everything tasted just right during your cooking and baking sessions.

* His cooking skills impressed you so much that you jokingly thought of him as a 'material husband.'

* Yuichiro's efficiency in cleaning further proved his responsibility, making it clear why he could take care of Muichiro in their parents' absence.

* In reality, the kitchen was a whirlwind of activity, with Yuichiro taking charge and skillfully preparing everything.

* You and Muichiro found yourselves simply standing by, waiting for his next instructions.

* “Nii-san, what now?”

* “Just stay there, don’t touch anything else until I say so.”

* “So, can I help yo-“ You try to say, but was immediately cut off.

* “You too, Y/n.” At least, you tried.

* For the millionth time, you were grateful that they caught you in the act. Imagining what could have happened if you were left to handle everything on your own in the kitchen sent shivers down your spine.

* After cooking and baking, the three of you cleaned up together, sharing conversations and laughter. You felt more at ease around Muichiro, thanks to his open and caring nature.

* Although both twins excelled in their studies, it was usually Muichiro who helped you with assignments and tests.

* Regardless, you loved both of them dearly.

* The cooked food and baked cake looked absolutely enticing as they were laid beautifully on the table. Both you and Muichiro couldn't help but feel your mouths water at the sight of the delicious dishes that Yuichiro had prepared.

* Yuichiro eventually asked, "So, what's the occasion?" It was then that you remembered it was their birthday.

* The delicious aroma of the food filled the air, creating a warm and inviting ambiance. It almost felt like any other ordinary meal together, but then Yuichiro's question brought you back to reality.

* “Wait up!” In a rush, you ran back to your room and retrieved the wrapped presents, handing them to the twins.

* Their confusion was evident, and they exchanged puzzled glances.

* “Happy birthday!”

* “Oh…” Yuichiro's eyes widened, finally realizing it was their birthday after everything.

* Muichiro blinked and questioned with surprise, "that was today...?"

* It was a one-of-a-kind celebration, with only the three of you gathered around the table. There were no extravagant parties or grand gestures, but the warmth of your company between the twins and yourself made it feel just right.

[chthonic-cassandra]

Recent books, fiction -

Emma Cline, The Girls - a teenage girl in the late 1960's ends up on the outer edges of a Manson-like (very closely Manson-like) cult. This was okay, but not great, falling too often into cliches about teenage girlhood and lacking a sharp understanding of cult dynamics. By basing the fictional cult in the novel so closely on Charles Manson's Cline gets to handwave a bunch of things about how and why it works, but the seams in the construction show through anyway; Cline's understanding about what leads people to join and stay in these kinds of groups, and how the internal dynamics function, seemed to me persistently surface-level. The strongest part of the novel is the protagonist's potent desire for one of the closest inner circle girls in the cult, which is the reason she becomes entangled much more than any draw from the cult leader himself. There was something interesting there, if Cline had focused on it, and something interesting too in the hints about our protagonist's solitary experiences of lesbian masochistic desire, but this thread was resolved in a way that felt to me disappointingly simplistic. The hints about our protagonist's adulthood following her experience of the cult are also flat, without the messiness of what it can mean to survive that experience. Worth reading as an example of a fictional depiction of organized abuse, but not a great one.

Mona Simpson, Commitment - family saga novel following three siblings as they make lives for themselves following their mother's depressive breakdown and institutionalization in the early 1970's. This had some flashes of clarity and insight, but fizzled out quickly into banality. There were some things that Simpson wanted to say about pragmatism vs making art, and about living in fear of mental illness, but it all got sanded down. The depiction of 'mental illness' is also two dimensional at best. This suffered especially for me in proximity to a recent read-through of The Frederica Quartet, which deals with some similar themes with an incomparably greater level of complexity and beauty. While this novel wasn't terrible, the fact of how lauded it has been made me feel cynical about the state of contemporary literary fiction.

Dion Fortune, Moon Magic - a hilarious but less than successful chapter in my weird journey of reading Fortune's fiction work. Like The Sea Priestess, to which it is a loose sequel, this novel centers around a blatant Dion Fortune self-insert initiating a repressed professional man into sexualized spiritual enlightenment. Unlike The Sea Priestess, Moon Magic is told largely from the point of view of said Dion Fortune self-insert, which brings the narcissism levels up to the nearly intolerable. Left unfinished at Fortune's death, the final chapter was written by her friends which was also not a great choice.

Melody Razak, Moth - a left-leaning, intellectual family in Delhi struggles to cope with the cataclysmic violence of partition. Stepping back from this book there are elements of it, and of the way each character was drawn, which I appreciate, but I felt consistently uneasy reading it, so much that I put it aside for a week in the middle, which is unusual for me. There was something about Razak's narrative gaze which felt exoticizing in its hazy simplicity; this maybe has to do with her conviction to "tell the untold stories" of women who experienced violence during partition, which I don't think is ever a great way to go into a fiction project for reasons I have written about elsewhere. However, the intensely brutal violence of the final section of the book somehow landed for me more as a reader; I don't actually know how I feel about the representational ethics of it, but something about the extremity brought it to a narratively more effective place. I'm still trying to sort through why.

Stacey D'Erasmo, The Complicities - after her husband's conviction for fraudulent business practices, a woman moves to a town in New England, opens a massage practice, and gets emotionally involved with a beached whale. Ugh. This was very bad, and I don't know how it ended up on my to-read list. Flat, simplistic prose style, irritating narrative voice, unlikable characters. Whatever.

Kikuo Tsumura, There's No Such Thing As an Easy Job (trans. Polly Barton) - genuinely hilarious satire on Japanese capitalist culture. A young woman, burnt out on her previous job (the nature of which isn't revealed until the end, which was an effective choice for me and so I'm not spoiling it), seeks to find a form of employment that will require the least possible from her intellectually and emotionally, ending up in increasing surreal work situations. This kind of book often doesn't work for me (I'm not a big humor person), but this was sharp and understated and very good. The section at the cracker factory in particular had me trying ineffectively to explain its hilarity to people around me. Recommended.

Catherine Lacey, Biography of X - in an AU United States where the southern states seceded in the mid-twentieth century, a newly widowed woman attempts to find out the truth about her wife, a notoriously secretive and manipulative artist. This was ambitious in its metafictional conceit and had a premise that intrigued but ultimately didn't live up to its promise. The world-building of Lacey's AU felt implausible and insufficiently developed; there were so many aspects of it that didn't land, like the distracting use of real-life figures or the total lack of critical analysis around race and gender. If the AU premise had been removed and the focus kept tighter on the central relationship it might have worked, but there too we just didn't have enough to go off of. This mostly just made me wish I was rereading Siri Hutvedt's The Blazing World, a much, much stronger metafictional depiction of a female artist, which maybe I should do.

Mariana Enríquez, Our Share of the Night - in Argentina during the period of military dictatorship, a young father attempts to save his son from the abusive group of which he has been a part since childhood. I loved this book so so very much. As a horror novel, as a depiction of organized abuse and intergenerational trauma, as a representation of the ways that state and interpersonal violence repeat and mirror. It's not a perfect book - I think that the last third could be tightened and shifted in certain ways - but what it's doing is so strong and specific that I don't mind. I sort of want to buy a copy and reread it right away. Strongly recommended, with the content note that it is a very emotionally plausible and unsparing depiction of its subject material.

[arr-jim-lad]

One of the things that makes Jojo so special and unique is that it's really a huge goodie bag of culture. It's thoroughly infused with things Araki was influenced by and which he admired.

It's a fantastic gateway into the world of art, music, movies, and fashion for someone who hasn't previously dabbled into it much.

And yet all of this, all this massive, fascinating cultural range that was so lovingly fused together by a man who truly loves these things, gets reduced to a "jojo reference" by a lot of Jojo fans and to be honest, it's kinda frustrating and disheartening to see that.

A Jojo reference is when a modern post-Jojo show inserts a known Jojo pose, stand-like thing, or Araki's art style as a gag. A Jojo reference is not something that was referenced in Jojo.

Many of the latter are important for the culture and/or history in their respective genres, and it's worth learning at least a bit about them before you decide to reduce them to a meme that the fandom at large seemed to completely miss the point of.

Understand why King Crimson is important to music history. They are largely seen as the first true prog rock band, and the complex music they made in the 60s and 70s was unheard of before them.

Understand how Gianni Versace was hugely influential to the fashion world not only with his theatrical bright and flashy designs, but also as the first designer who realized the recognition that was gained by having celebrities wear his designs.

Lastly, and damn this one really gets me, please understand that JJBA is an Antonio Lopez reference, not the other way around.

The big men, colorful clothes, and dynamic poses that Araki depicted early on (particularly in parts 1 and 2) are all heavily, overtly, and unabashedly inspired by the fashion illustrations of Antonio Lopez. His Illustrations in Tales from the Thousand and One Nights also greatly influenced some character designs from part 3.

Those are just three examples of many more cases in which Jojo fans would talk about Jojo references in regards to things that came way before JJBA, and even directly influenced it.

The comment section on any song mentioned in Jojo is nauseating. Every time I've seen an Antonio Lopez piece on twitter, at least one comment would mention its "JoJo vibes".

If you question why so many people are annoyed by JJBA and its fans, the answer is plain and simple; they are frustrated by the unintentional disrespect many fans show to original sources, the willful ignorance that's often displayed that way, and bluntly put, the obnoxious behavior many fans express while making their jokes.

I think that, in a way, that lack of cultural curiosity also distinctly goes against the spirit of JoJo's Bizarre Adventure, which is fundamentally built on Araki's own appreciation of so many different things.

Please be more open to learning about culture beyond your animes!