#and promises when she’s back she’ll be working and pay it back
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rowanhoney · 10 months ago
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I’m gonna scream. I’ve always said it will get to this point. And the time has come
#my mother has been financially irresponsible her whole life#by which I mean. never had a job. got her parents to buy her a house and pay all her bills#was on benefits somehow????? idk how she qualified cos the doctor nvr diagnosed her with anything#she’s the type of person to ask for 6k so she can go to India for half a year to train as a yoga instructor#and promises when she’s back she’ll be working and pay it back#but then asks for money to go to Peru for idk what#and the whole time binning her kids off on other people#like she couldn’t afford to feed me cos she was too busy spending fortunes on obscure medicines she was gonna force me to take instead#and she spent something insane like 60k on some machine that’s supposed to cure anything and everything#she blew through 120k in a few months. cos if she had anything over 16k her benefits got taken away#so rather than live off the money she got rid of it#then she fucked off to Costa Rica thank god cos I don’t risk bumping into her#BUT my family still pay her bills#and send her and my brother money#because my brother is the same#he’ll call up saying he hasn’t eaten for 2 days and has hardly anything for the kids#and then he’ll get sent money#and buy wagyu steak and £400 samurai swords#and then a few days later say “I’m hungry again#and is also committing benefit fraud by claiming he still lives here but lives in America instead#and is 29 and never worked a day#anyway the day has come.#start of this month my grandparents said help we have no money in our account because of paying your mothers bills#and I sent them £600#which was my whole bonus#and I also had to pay the council £630#and then my mother called up again. she’s gone on holiday somewhere but she’s fucked cos she had nothing in her account so cant eat#she’s bone thin as it is so my family wouldn’t risk not feeding her#and it’s the second time this month my apparently rich grandparents have asked for money#cos my mother and brother are entitled leeches
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unluckiestmember · 5 months ago
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Arcane x Ransom! Reader
Summary: How would the Arcane characters react if the reader was held for ransom?
Characters: Jinx/Powder, Violet "Vi", Caitlyn Kiramman, Viktor, Jayce Talis, Sevika, Silco and Licker (mention).
Warning: Slight cursing and suggestive themes/implied sexual themes.
A/N: I literally got the idea for this request from Helluva Boss, particular episode 6 of season 2. I hope you all enjoy this though, I know I did!
Powder/Jinx
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“You have who?! Where are they?!… You want me to pay you for them? Oh I’ll pay you alright!”
Jinx doesn’t take the idea of you getting hurt lightly. She already is super overprotective of her little trinket, so when she heard that you were being held for a price, she wasted no time grabbing Pow-Pow, Zapper and a bunch of chompers to aid her in her “heroic rescue” for her princess/prince. As soon as she is where you are held, you don’t have to see her to know she’s there for you. Don’t expect any talking, just laughter and hollers followed by gunfire, screams for mercy and explosions.
Before you know it, the Loose Cannon is standing in front of you, pulling you into the tightest hug ever and dressing your face with kisses. She will ask you countless questions while freaking out, beating herself up over you being in such a position. But when she feels you touch her and assure her you’re okay, she’s on cloud nine. As soon as she laces the area with bombs to blow it to kingdom come, she’s back at her hideout, being super affectionate and touchy the entire night. Don’t expect anyone to be touching you for months unless they want their head blown off.
Violet “Vi”
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“… What?… You… You just pissed off the wrong woman.”
First word that you were kidnapped, Vi wasted no time hunting your captors down and beating them to a bloody pulp. The woman is like a bull seeing red knowing you were somewhere cold and scared away from home and her arms. So until you were back to her, anyone was able to get a personal greeting from the pink haired fighter. Vi is pretty merciful, but in situations like this, she isn’t afraid to push the envelope by giving life threatening injuries to the bastards that hurt you.
When she found you, she didn’t bother asking any questions or giving any money to your kidnappers, unless they counted a mouthful of fists and kicks as payment enough. When she’s done with her punishment, she’ll immediately scoop you into her arms and take the both of you back home, where she checks you for injuries and asks if you are okay. Please comfort her. She may act all tough and cool, but the situation scared her due to thinking she lost you just like everyone else. As soon as she knows you are alright, she’ll promise no one will ever do that to you again.
Caitlyn Kiramman
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“You kidnapped Y/N? Why would- Who do you think you are? You better let them go right now!”
Caitlyn was used to people being kidnapped on the job, having to save them or negotiate with criminals for their safety. But she would have never imagined such a thing happening to you of all people. When she was told you were being held for ransom, she understandably panicked before taking deep breaths and thinking of how to get you back to her. The enforcer can easily scrounge up the money for you to be freed, because you were more important than any coin that reaches her pockets.
So when she arranges a meeting with your kidnappers and finds you so scared, she finds it hard to stop herself from grabbing you and making a run for it. If the kidnappers pull a fast one on her though, all bets are off and bullets are flying. When she has you back, she will watch you like a hawk and be on the defensive for a while. But if you assure her enough that you are okay, she will lighten up. On the bright side, after the incident she’s more romantic and spends more time with you in and out of work.
Viktor
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“Look, I’m sure we can talk about this. I’ll get you the money, just. Please don’t hurt them…”
Viktor beat himself up when he heard you were taken away from him for monetary purposes. He just doesn’t understand how he would let this happen- How he would let someone easily take you under his nose and put you in harm’s way?! He could’ve waddled in his sorrows, but he couldn’t. He had to save you and he had to act fast! It would hurt him, but he would ask for assistance from Jayce and the council if he can. And if they can’t help him? Well. Maybe it was time to break out those so-called dangerous machines Heimerdinger warned him against using.
When he finds you, he’s wasting no time trying to negotiate a way around matters so you could be freed. And if those negotiations don’t go according to plan, then he’ll use his machinery and his brain to outsmart the criminals into freeing you. When you are back together, he’ll just. Hold you. Like you are a precious gemstone. He’ll promise you this will never happen again. No one will ever lay their hands on you again…
Jayce Talis
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“Is this supposed to scare me? If anything, you should be the one scared- Do you know who I am?!”
Jayce does not take threats lightly, especially when it comes to his family, friends and his loved ones. As soon as he was told you were held for Ransom, he let his anger and determination to get you back fuel him to do anything to send a message and bring you back to safety. You will immediately know your boyfriend got the message because in a matter of hours, enforcers are barging into the area you were held like they were entering a war, shooting, punching and slamming anyone who got in their way from their goal; You.
And Jayce is in the middle of it all, swinging his hammer without remorse before running to your rescue as your knight in shining armor. As soon as you grab his hand, he’s walking you back to his place casually through the enforcers destroying everything in their sights and leaving a message for the assholes that took you; Never. Ever. Touch the councilman’s lover. Don’t expect to go anywhere without guards following you if Jayce isn’t, whether you want to or not. Jayce just can’t take the chance for you to be taken again. Is it extreme? Yes. But it was worth it.
Sevika
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“Ransom? Seriously? Please, that’s nothing. And I’m about to show you why.”
When it comes to ransom, Sevika wasn’t new to having her friends or past lovers be kidnapped for money. So when she heard you were being held hostage, she casually grabbed her poncho, fixed her arm for a brawl and headed outside to round her co-workers up. When she found you and the ones that took you, she wasted no time kicking in the doors and sicking her co-workers on everyone before she made her way towards you after knocking some skulls in. She’ll ask if you are okay and especially check you for any injuries before grabbing you and joking how you found yourself in this predicament.
The fight rages on as soon as she places you outside for safety. Saving you wasn’t enough. No, she needed everyone to know that when someone messes with you, they have to deal with her and the rest of Zaun. When everything is over and done, Sevika will take you both back home and treat any injuries you want before kissing your cheek and simply talking as if you weren’t kidnapped to begin with. If you think she doesn’t care, then hoo boy. The way she’ll treat you that night in bed will make you think otherwise.
Silco
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“Hmm… If I were you, I’d beg for mercy when I get there…”
Silco is never one to be threatened because he’s always the one making the threats. Hearing about you being held for Ransom made him immediately go on the move to round up Sevika to follow him in bringing you back to him. If he gets there and doesn’t find you anywhere, he will deliver a silent signal to bring the house down. But if you are present, then he won’t need violence to be delivered by his Right Hand. He’ll just need to put the fear of gods into your kidnapper.
He’ll paint them a picture of how he’ll find their families and let them listen to the melody of their bones breaking. How he’ll have Licker carve paintings into their bodies and let them choke on their own blood as they beg for mercy. What do they think of that? They wouldn’t like that at all. As a matter of fact, they would hate it so much that they would release you and fade from existence right there. As soon as you are back to Silco, he’s going to take you back home as if this was only a minor inconvenience. But as soon as you two are behind closed doors, he can’t help from keeping his hands to himself and make promises against your skin.
If you have any requests for Arcane, X-Men '97 or Blue Eye Samurai, send them my way!
Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, stay safe, stay hydrated and have a good day!
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taintedpearls · 4 months ago
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Hi girl how are you??
✨Could you do one where reader have a crush on vi and she's watching vi workout and can't stop looking at her, then vi notice and question reader about it idk nsfw or not do whatever you want ✨
˖⋆᭝ᨳ՟⋆˙ workout - daily click
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cw: suggestive , 1.2k wc , semi (?) proofread
note: hi ml! i'm good, tysm! hru? i loved writing this
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“i just don't get it! ‘don’t run in swinging every time, vi, it never works, vi’ well guess what caitlyn, all those guys are out of your way now! you should be thanking me!” the pink-haired girl's complaints about her work partner seemed to be never ending nowadays. you didn't mind listening though, especially when all you had to do was sit off to the side and out of her way while she worked out. you had found a comfortable spot on top of a crate, legs spread out either side and decided it was the perfect spot to watch her fight the automatic punching machine, each punch and duck more aggressive than the last in a futile attempt to rid herself of the anger cait had caused. 
“that sucks, i’m sorry vi. caitlyn just worries, i do too.” you attempted to comfort. In reality, you weren’t really paying attention to what vi was saying, but rather what she was doing. the way her arms flexed with each hit and how sweat glistened down the curve between- 
“helloooo? are you even listening to me right now?” vi interrupts your perverted fantasy train of thought. at some point she had stopped boxing and was suddenly standing right in front of you, in between your legs, waving a wrapped and gloved hand in front of your face to try and gain your attention. 
shame floods through you at the realization she might have caught you staring. your face heats up and your eyes widen as you try to figure out a way to save yourself further embarrassment. 
“yes, yes! of course i am! you were talking about how caitlyn doesn't want you to go in swinging anymore and how upset you were about it.” perfect. 
“that was five minutes ago. are you feeling alright?” vi asks, being quick to remove one of the bright red boxing gloves and bring her bandaged (as well as slightly bloody) hand up to your forehead while the other one rests on your thigh. fuck! you're quick to make a move to swat both her hands away, anxious about wether or not she'll be able to see that you're heating up not because of illness but moreover because of how her hand feels incredibly warm against your freezing thigh and just how attractive she looks working out. 
“vi, i'm fine! seriously, don't worry about it. i guess i just zoned out for a second. what were you saying? i’ll pay attention this time!” you guarantee 
she pauses, staring at you and analyzing your face for what feels like eternity, clearly unbelieving of your lie but not wanting to push it. 
“and you’re sure you feel okay?” she double checks, concern etched on her features. she’s ignored your previous pleas, putting both of her hands on either thigh to try and get a closer look at you, going up on her tippy toes just slightly. the way her nose crinkles up and how she bites her lip in worry you swear almost sends you to another dimension. 
“yes, i promise. now get back to working on your core or something!” you laugh, almost certain that this will finally get her back to being busy and punching the shit out of the machine again, but she doesn't move. Not her hands nor the relentless gaze she’s been keeping on you. 
silence overtakes the two of you and confusion lingers in the back of your mind. why wasn't she moving? You had already told her you were good and not feeling sickly. did she not believe you? did she see right through you? now you’re the one leaning in slightly, testing the waters, seeing where it’ll go. whether or not she’ll lean in too. She does almost immediately. 
you do a quick short inhale, “aren't you gonna go back to fighting?” it barely comes out as a whisper, but she hears you. If you moved just a couple centimeters more, your lips would be touching hers. You find Its becoming increasingly difficult not to think about. 
“no.” she replies simply, tone matching yours. 
“no?” you question, tilting your head to the side and now confused on where the conversation is going. 
“no. not until you tell me what the hell is up with you!” she says the last part louder, squeezing your thighs between your hands but not to the point it would hurt you. 
“oh my God-” you sigh, throwing your head back for only a moment while you think carefully about the next words that you’ll say. ultimately deciding that vi doesn't have to have the power here, and that frankly, you were quite curious to how she would react if you simply admitted to gawking at her. 
you lean forward again, closer than ever and so quickly she doesn't even notice until you start talking. you swear she looks down at your lips, even if only for a split second.
“do you even understand how hot you look right now?” you ask lowly, playing it cool with a straight but teasing expression. inside, however, it feels like you’re about to burst into flames. Her expression changes from a surprised one to what looks like a slight smirk. 
“oh? do i?” 
“mhm” is all you manage to muster, anxiety slowly creeping over you at her limited reaction. 
she leans in closer, your lips only a centimeter apart. “what are you gonna do about it?” her hands squeeze your thighs even tight and you can tell that if she keeps it up, it’s going to leave a mark. not that you would really mind. 
you exhale slowly, moving your hands from gripping the crate up her arms and around the back of her shoulders to her neck, gently playing with the bright hair at the back. She has to look up at you to meet your eyes and she swears she could die in that moment. you look like absolute heaven. biting your cheek in concentration and she has to resist letting out a groan, not even wanting to think about how ashamed she is with the current state of her boxers when you haven't even kissed yet. 
why exactly haven't you kissed her yet?
“how about-” instead of letting you finish, vi takes matters into her own hands. closing the gap between the two of you and clashing teeth instantly. you reach further up and pull on her hair slightly, which does make her groan and you’re eager to hear more of those noises coming from her. she gently swipes your bottom lip, asking for permission which you grant, and instantly your tongues are fighting for dominance. it's messy, you’re pretty sure you can feel a bit of mixed spit dribble down your chin but you couldn't care less in this moment when she feels this soft and absolutely magical. 
having to pull away to get air dragged the two of you back down to earth. A string of saliva connected the two of you that the girl in front of you ridded of by swiping her thumb across your lips, not without taking her time. heavy pants were the only noise in the gym as the two of you stared intently at each other. 
vi leans into that sweet spot between your shoulder and neck, nipping and biting at the area before pulling away and suggesting exactly what you were thinking, 
“should we go to my room?” 
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starcrossed-lov3rz · 3 months ago
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The Vow Spoken Through Time - Part 12
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Daemon x Rhaenyra x Wife!Reader
Series: Series Masterlist
Warnings: MDNI
Tags: marriage, poly relationship, Daemon being hopelessly in love with his wives, Queen!Rhaenyra
Words: ~1.3K
Description: Y/N is having a rough morning. She's fired. She's hungover. She's in a stranger's bed. She's waking up in a new world? She's married?!
Rhaenyra and Daemon's day started normal. Waking up next to their darling wife before tending to their duties. The difference? Their wife is speaking in riddles and has no memories of them.
Check out more works in my Masterlist!
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Your alarm jerks you awake, and you blindly reach out to find your phone and turn it off. A yelp leaves your lips as you feel someone roll on top of you and throw the now silenced phone across the room.
“Daemon,” you whine, voice raspy from sleep, “what the fuck?”
He sits back, his thighs caging your body in. “What in the hells was that noise?”
“It was my alarm,” you rub at your eyes in an effort to wake up. “I really didn’t want to waste today.”
You push at Daemon’s chest in an effort to get him to let you up, but your husband doesn’t budge at all. “My love, as much as I want to explore your world more and try this ‘pizza’ again, our wife is probably worried sick.”
“I’ll get her a fucking t-shirt then, I want to have a nice latte and give my vibrator one last ‘hurrah’ before I go back to the dark ages-LITERALLY.”
Daemon slings a leg over, standing up to dig out the clothes you had bought for him yesterday. He shuddered as he pulled on the monstrosity you referred to as ‘cargo shorts’ when you bought them as punishment for his comments about modern attire for women. 
You smirk as you get dressed. As much as you love your husband, there was something so vindicating about making him dress a little silly. If he had some much to say about jean shorts and crop tops, then he could dress like a dad going to Disney. “You look ravishing,” you tease. Digging through your closet, you slipped on a sundress. Today was going to be a little bit of shopping for the kids and Nyra, as well as working your way through some foods you needed Daemon to try.
Daemon slid on his plain tshirt (you had saved the “Dad of the Year” shirt to give him when you returned). “I look ridiculous,” he complained, “do all men here insist on showing their legs? I don’t like it.”
You snort out a laugh, doing your best to keep it in. Daemon’s eyes narrowed, and he stalked over. His one hand gripped the waist of your sundress, pulling you towards him as the other slipped under. The hem of the dress hiked up as his palm stopped to squeeze your asscheek. “Laugh as much as you like, my love,” Daemon purred, “but I promise I will make you pay for every single joke.” Your laughter dies, replaced by a short moan as Daemon lays a light spank across your asscheek.
“Well then, I guess I’ll just have to make each one count,” you say, winding your hands through his hair. You gently pull at his hair, leaning in to kiss and nibble at his throat. His moan vibrates against you as you kiss up his jawline to his ear. You gently bite at the lobe before pulling away and grinning. “As much as I want to get those shorts right back off, I promised you a fun day in my world.”
“I assure you, my love, it is no hardship to stay inside today.”
You drag Daemon out of the apartment, slipping your hand in the crook of his elbow. “I can’t wait for you to meet my ride, Glenda.”
“You have a horse?”
“Kinda,” you laugh as you lead Daemon to your garage. “I don’t know how much horsepower she gets, but she’s my baby.” You click the lock button and listen for your car. There she is…right where you left her. “She’s not as fun as Caraxes, but she’ll get us where we need to go. She’s probably cheaper to feed too.”
Daemon eyes the Prius warily. “Where is the saddle?”
“Inside,” you say, urging Daemon forward. 
“You want me to go inside that beast?!” he hissed. “You’re mad.”
You roll your eyes, unlocking the doors and opening his. “Come on, I’ll let you be passenger princess this time.”
After quite a bit of convincing, you manage to get Daemon in the car and buckled in. He was heavily opposed to the seatbelt, but after a long lecture about road safety, he put it on just to get you to stop lecturing. You rolled down the windows so he could lean out and watch the buildings fly past. 
You pulled into the parking lot of a local coffee shop, helping Daemon figure out the release mechanism on his seatbelt. “Would you like something sweet or bitter?” you asked, unsure whether or not he would be familiar with half of the drinks and pastries here.
“I’ll eat whatever you give me.”
“Thanks not an answer, but I love the enthusiasm,” you laughed, giving Daemon a peck on the cheek. You order an iced chai latte with a shot of espresso for yourself and the ‘drink of the month’ for Daemon. After asking the cashier for two warmed pastries, you pay and lead Daemon to a table in the back. He is looking around at all the decor-photos of the owner from 50 years ago, cookie jars, and a wall of postcards.
“Did someone paint all of these?” he asked, pointing towards the photos.
You shook your head, pulling out your phone. “They’re like paintings. You can use a camera or any device with a built in camera.” Turning your phone on selfie mode, you slide into the seat next to Daemon. You snap a pic as you kiss his cheek, and show him the screen. He hums, looking at the picture of you both. 
“Nyra would love this,” he murmurs. “Can we bring her a camera?”
“I think we could pick up a polaroid and some film,” you muse. “There is no way to keep a phone alive back there, but a polaroid would work.”
The barista calls out your name and Daemon walks up to collect your order. You watch as he and the young barista go back and forth. “Hey, need any help there baby?” you ask, winding an arm around Daemon’s waist.
“The barmaid here was asking for my number-”
“I am so sorry!” the barista apologized, blushing. “I asked if he had a girlfriend and he said no so I-”
“I don’t-”
“He has a wife.” 
You try your best not to laugh a little at the ridiculousness of it all as you take your drink and assure the barista there’s no issue. Daemon and you down your pastries while you try to explain the concept of democracy to a real life monarch. 
“That sounds incredibly complicated.”
“I take it Nyra won’t be instituting one in Westeros,” you tease.
“As much as she loves you, not a chance.” Daemon snorts. He stands when you finish your food, offering you his arm. “But that idea for the orphanage reform is something she would love,” he says with a nudge. “Nyra knows you’re getting restless, and has been looking for projects you can head.”
“Really?” you ask excitedly. “You think she would let me?”
“For you? Of course,” he says, kissing your forehead. “Now, you promised me we could pick up some of these ‘legos’ for the kids.”
“Want to try your luck at driving?” you ask with a wicked grin.
“Not at all.”
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NOTE: New chapter!!! I am SO SORRY for the lack of Nyra...I MISS HER TOO SO MUCH AND I'M BENDING SPACE AND TIME TO GET HER BC I MISS MY POOKIE/ANGEL!!!!! Anyway, pls enjoy some modern hijinks. Also if you're AT ALL interested in a Logan Howlette x Popstar!OC/Reader story.....I am posting chapter 3 soon (Me and the Devil). They start off disliking each other so YOU KNOW we are gonna have some fun banter. Also, currently writing and hope to have chapter 13 of TVSTT up in the next few days! ~ Lacie <33
Taglist: @syraxnyra , @avalyaaa , @angeliccss , @clocksonthewall79 , @sia2raw , @forma-lina , @lorarri , @imoonkiss , @ba6ysworld , @abaker74 , @different-tale-student , @beca2468 , @hnm-mika , @pendejalian , @lexasaurs634 , @jaydemon99 , @lovelyy-moonlight , @waitaminuteashh , @winterrnight , @malfoycassimalfoy , @ghostlyvoidydragon , @spacexdrago , @asgardian1023 , @madamevirgo , @ahyespubes , @cowboybaby2 , @sm3156 , @ashlatano7567 , @cheat2tea , @kmatrixx1130 , @jubilee40 , @dimue , @coolmantha921, @ynbutbetter , @macaulaytwins , @idk-idk-idk-idk23 , @lavender2ari, @the-brainr0tt , @kamarimartell , @bluecloudsworld , @anonymous989, @uniquecutie-puffs , @mimitoupe01, @ace-spades-1 , @urmomsgirlfriend1 , @insufferablelust , @lilsyl , @ella-rose45 , @essiexxz , @apollonshootafar , @myheartfollower, @baybaybear1 , @povofjustme , @ninasully, @snapedog
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jeneveuxrein · 7 months ago
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off the table (BLACKPINK Rosé)
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word count: 13.5K
(meh, could've turned out better, but it'll suffice)
-- -- -- 
The door slams, startling you enough to flinch as you drop your controller on the carpet. When you pick it up to continue with your game, there’s a dramatic sigh. 
“Everything okay?” You ask politely, rolling your eyes when you see your opponent score a basket since you weren’t able to play defense. 
“No,” Rosie says flatly. You hear her keys tossed on the entry table before she sighs again. 
“Do you want to talk about it?” You offer. You even pause the game. 
“Maybe later,” Rosie says as she passes by, “I’m going to bed.” 
“Oh alright, well—” You aren’t able to finish your sentence because the sound of her door shuts before you can. 
You shrug, indifferent to her mood. You unpause the game, continuing on as if nothing happened. 
If there’s one thing you’ve learned about her, she’ll talk to you when she’s ready.
-- --
You were desperate at the time. There were too many things happening at once, that you forgot to look where you were going to live next. The only reason remembered was because the building manager showed up at your condo to do an inspection—a week before your move-out date. 
It was your fault, ignoring the paper notices in your pile of mail and the emails that flooded your inbox. You had just finished the last of your exams. Your job pushed you to take, time passing by, that it completely slipped your mind. 
Once the inspection was over, you called everyone and anyone you knew if they had a spare room on short notice. Most of them were either living with their significant others or had a roommate already. 
Except for Lisa. 
She was the only one with a viable lead. One of her best friends had recently moved back to Seoul from Australia and needed someone to offset the cost of the mortgage. 
You found out Lisa’s friend was a woman. You were hesitant because you had never lived with a woman except for your mother and sister when you were younger. You voiced the concern to Lisa, who laughed because you were ‘too adorable’ and that it didn’t matter to Chaengie if she lived with a man. 
You bit the bullet and agreed to meet with Chaengie, come to find out her name was actually Chaeyoung or Roseanne, but she preferred Rosie if you called her by her English name. 
Rosie was nice enough, easily charming you and making you feel comfortable when Lisa introduced you at her place. 
It was a nice condo in one of the more luxurious areas of Seoul. Open floor concept with floor-to-ceiling windows and separate rooms on opposite sides of the unit had you wondering what Rosie did. When you found out she was a lawyer, it made sense for her to afford a place like this. You were on the fence about what your share would be because it couldn’t be cheap, likely double what you were paying for your condo. 
After the brief tour, there wasn’t much since it was half-furnished, Rosie surprised you by telling you that you could pay as much as you do for your current place. She could afford the mortgage on her own, but she wanted someone to live with more than worrying about the money. 
It was a no-brainer, a steal in your opinion because living here at a discounted rate would work in your favor. Plus with passing your exams, you were expecting a bump in your salary.
You agreed, promising that it would only be temporary until things settled down. At most, six months was what you projected, but Rosie said to stay for however long you liked. 
That was almost a year ago. 
Living with Rosie wasn’t what you expected. 
You had no experience with living with a woman and the last time you had a roommate was when you were at university. 
You figured she’d want her space, not wanting to intrude or bother her whenever she was home. In the beginning, you kept to your room for the most part unless you had to cook, which wasn’t often. Your job had you putting in long hours at the office that you would crash as soon as your head hit the pillow.
It wasn’t until about a month or so in of living together and work slowed down, allowing you to come home at a decent hour when Rosie knocked on your door, asking if you wanted to watch a movie together. 
That was the turning point where it became calling her your roommate seemed like an inaccurate description. 
You spent more time with Rosie, getting to know her on a personal level. She had this way of sharing about herself that made you want to share too, something you hardly did. She made you laugh as she told you about her day. She would make you eat actual food instead of relying on takeout, asking you to help her cook. 
She was someone you admired that it created a dilemma when you realized you developed romantic feelings for her. 
It was short-lived because you found out by accident that she didn’t see you as anything more than a really good friend. 
You woke up late one Sunday morning. You heard voices in the kitchen, which wasn’t out of the norm as Rosie had her friends over frequently. It was a conversation you shouldn’t have listened to, but curiosity got the best of you when your name came up.
You recognized the voice—Jennie, one of Rosie’s friends you met a few times—asked, giggling, “Have you slept with him yet?” 
“What? Unnie, that’s absurd. He’s my roommate,” Rosie answered, heavy emphasis on the label.
You were hiding, tucked around the hallway corner as the women conversed. Your mother used to scold you for eavesdropping, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move. 
“So? He’s hot,” Jennie stated matter-of-factly. You blushed at her comment. “He looks like he works out and there’s something about him that I know he’s just good in bed.” 
“Jennie!” You imagined Rosie’s face shocked at her friend’s brazenness. “He’s my roommate,” She emphasized again. “I have not, and will not, ever look at him like that. He’s a really good guy, but he’s off limits.”
“Does that include me?” You heard Jennie yelp after her question, the sound of skin-on-skin contact was enough. “If you’re not going to sleep with him, why can’t I?!” 
You didn’t bother listening anymore, deciding that you would go to the gym instead of joining them for brunch. You walked away feeling a little dejected, knowing where you stood with her, but you respected it. Things could get messy, especially since you lived together. 
(Though if you stayed a minute more, you would’ve heard Rosie say that she thought about asking you out once you move out.) 
As time went on, your feelings for her grew. It was hard not to, with how much time you spent together, your friends even asked if Rosie was your girlfriend based on how you often mentioned her. 
It wasn’t like you could not not talk about her. She became part of your routine, part of your life that you found yourself riddled with guilt whenever you went out on dates with women who were genuinely interested in you. You were certain you would’ve been too, if your feelings for her didn’t loom.
That didn’t stop Rosie from telling you about her dating life. It wasn’t as detailed compared to if she was talking to Lisa or Jennie, but it was enough to sting every time. 
You made a rule to yourself that you’d never bring a woman over, keeping those activities away. You were human after all, and you had needs. 
Rosie was unaware of the self-imposed rule, and there were a few times you caught her night-time partners leaving in the morning. Sometimes it would be the same person. Other times just passing flings you never saw again. 
It was what it was, and Rosie didn’t seem in a rush for you to move out. 
Though at some point, you would have to. You didn’t want to overextend your stay. You hoped to remain friends with her, regardless of how you felt. 
It would probably make it easier for you to get over these unnecessary feelings. 
Right? 
-- --
You scoop the sliced up fruit into the blender, eyeballing how much milk you needed, when Rosie walks into the kitchen. You send her an easy smile before turning the machine on to blend the ingredients so you could make it to work on time. 
Rosie stands on the other side of the kitchen island, waiting for you to finish. When you’re done, she says, “I’m sorry about last night.” 
You raise an eyebrow, “For…?” 
“I felt that I was short with you. You didn’t deserve that,” Rosie says apologetically. 
“It’s nothing to worry about,” You smile, nodding reassuringly. “Whatever happened, just know you can talk to me.” 
“I know,” Rosie returns the smile, standing abruptly to make her way over to you as she wraps her arms around you. You hope she didn’t feel you tense up because any physical affection with her leaves you dizzy. “I might be home a little later tonight. Jennie and Lisa want to take me out.” 
“Okay, just text me if you need me to pick you up,” You can’t stop smiling around her. “I’ll probably just be here, playing video games.” 
Rosie makes a humming sound, sinking into your body before taking a sip of your smoothie. “You haven’t been on any dates recently, everything okay?” 
The statement throws you off. It’s not like Rosie isn’t aware of your dating life and when you’re not home, but she’s never said anything like that. 
“Er, I just noticed you haven’t been out as much,” She backtracks, her hand rubbing your back. 
“Been busy with work,” You reply noncommittally. It’s true, work has been busy with your boss on your ass about finishing the security protocol for the new application that was developed. You probably should find some sort of release to ease the tension, but that could wait. 
“Well don’t work too hard, okay?” Rosie looks up at you, eyes filled with worry that you’re overexerting yourself. She boops your nose, grinning when you make a face. She lets go of you and blows you a kiss, “I’ll see you later. Have a good day!” 
And with that, Rosie’s out of the condo, leaving you more confused because that was just weird. It was even weirder that you missed her close to you, but that was something you were familiar with. 
Oh well. 
--
Someone’s trying to break in. 
It sounds like it, based on the aggressive knocking on the front door that has you rushing out of the shower. You only have enough time to throw on a pair of sweats, that when you swing open the door, wolf whistles ring through your ears as your eyes fall on Rosie first before realizing she’s being held up by Jennie and Lisa. 
“What the fuck happened?” You step aside as they usher your roommate inside, worry etching across your face.
“Jeez,” Jennie scoffs, “Hi to you too, oppa.” 
Once you close the door, you immediately reach for Rosie, steadying her as Lisa takes her shoes off. 
“You smell nice,” Rosie slurs out, nose falling right in the crook of your neck. You stumble slightly, bringing an arm around her back to make sure she doesn’t topple over. “Did you just come back from working out?” She asks, sighing contentedly against your skin. 
“Yes,” You nod, hoping she or her friends don’t see your cheeks turn red. “Are you okay?” 
Rosie giggles, nodding deeper into your neck, “Just a little drunk.” She holds up her thumb and finger in front of your face, meaning she’s really drunk. 
You practically carry her to the sofa with Jennie and Lisa in tow. They’re whispering something about you and you hear the latter mention how toned you are. Your face feels hot, but you avoid looking at them by having Rosie sit. 
“I’ll be right back,” You say as they sit on either side of Rosie. Her head falls on Lisa’s shoulder, eyes barely open. “I’m going to put a shirt on.”
“Please,” Jennie smirks, “By all means. None of us mind if you don’t.” 
You roll your eyes after she winks, earning a chuckle from Lisa. You refuse to engage anymore, not giving either of them the satisfaction, and leave to your room. 
When you return, fully clothed, Lisa is nowhere to be found and Rosie’s much more awake than when she arrived. Jennie’s over in the kitchen, pouring a glass of water, raising the pitcher to you, which you shake your head. 
“You okay?” 
Rosie nods, shyly looking away, “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be like this.” 
“It’s—”
“Chaeng, you literally got dumped for something so stupid,” Jennie cuts you off, aggressively slamming the fridge door. “It’s fine that you got drunk. You deserve to. You look hot, and people noticed.” 
There’s a lot of information to process, but you focus on the fact that Rosie had a boyfriend and you weren’t aware of it. 
“Uh,” You aren’t sure how to respond. 
“We’ll tell you about it,” Jennie appears in front of Rosie, holding the glass to her lips. “Lisa just went out to get some soju and beer.”
This wasn’t how you expected your night to go, but it looked like you didn’t have much of a choice. 
--
You take whatever Lisa bought out of the bag. It consisted of soju and beer along with a bunch of snacks that seemed a lot like Rosie’s favorites. 
While waiting for Lisa, Rosie changed into more comfortable clothes. She asked if she could wear your hoodie since you left it out, which you didn’t see any issue with. Jennie, on the other hand, snickered as if there was some secret you weren’t a part of. 
You wanted to know what happened between Rosie and her boyfriend, but you didn’t want to be nosey. You respect her privacy, especially since you didn’t know she had one in the first place. 
As Lisa places the glasses on the coffee table, Jennie tells you the reason why Rosie got too drunk at happy hour to make it to the club. 
Apparently Rosie’s now ex-boyfriend was an asshole. 
Just not in the way you’d think. 
Jennie waits to see if Rosie will elaborate behind you, but her eyes are closed, head resting on one of the pillows. When there’s no response, Lisa asks a question that had you almost dropping the bottle you’re pouring.
“What?” You stop what you’re doing, staring dumbfounded at the two women across from you. 
“Don’t act like you didn’t hear her,” Jennie rolls her eyes. “Are you against foreplay?” 
“What the fuck kind of question is that?” You feel the tips of your ears burn because you might consider these two your friends, but they weren’t your friends that you spoke with things like this with. 
“An honest one,” Lisa answers, taking the bottle out of your hand to continue pouring the shots. “You’re of the male species, so we want your perspective on it.” 
You piece together what kind of asshole Rosie was with, and that could never be you. 
“No,” You mumble. “I’m not.” 
“Like you actually do it, right? It’s not just rubbing your dick over the girl and calling it foreplay?” Jennie’s choice of words has you annoyed. 
“What? You know what foreplay is, right?” You grab the shot glass, taking it in one go because it’s very much needed with where this conversation is heading. You ignore the scowls on their faces when you drink without them.
“I do,” Jennie points to herself, then tilts her head to Lisa, “She does too, but Chaeng, on the other hand, hasn’t been with someone who’s as… let’s say, giving in that department.” 
“Leave him alone you two,” Rosie yawns, stretching her arms up before sitting up. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Let’s just keep drinking.” She reaches over you, since you’re sitting on the rug, and takes the soju bottle instead of a glass. 
Everyone watches Rosie take a lengthy swig before sinking back into the sofa. The defeated look on her face makes you want to hug her, which you will, but not in the presence of her friends. They’d relentlessly tease you both, something you can’t handle. There’s two of them. 
“To shitty sex?” Lisa raises her glass. 
“The absolute shittiest sex,” Rosie adds, holding the bottle up.
You have thoughts about that, but you can’t let yourself get too deep in them. It doesn’t help with the little (big) crush you have on her. 
You’re most likely delusional, but you think you could be someone that would show her what real sex was like.
Then again, like she’d give you a chance. 
--
“Get home safely, okay?” Lisa smiles, nodding as she holds Jennie up. “Make sure she drinks water.” 
“God, you’re so fucking nice,” Jennie slurs, eyes barely open. “Why don’t you just date Chaeng? She’d be so much happier. You’re also, like, really hot.” 
“Okay!” Lisa pulls her a little roughly, glaring even though Jennie is oblivious. “Time to go. Thanks again for having us over, we’ll see you soon.” She rushes out, turning before her friend could say anything else. 
You chuckle as they walk away, Lisa muttering something to Jennie that has you wondering how much truth there is to that statement. It’s a nice ego boost to find out Jennie, and by extension, Rosie, think of you as attractive. Even if it’s on a superficial, physical level. 
After you shut the door, you find your roommate curled on the couch. You wonder if she’s still awake, knowing she switched to water while the three of you continued drinking. You grab one of the blankets, unfolding it, when she yawns. 
“I’m still awake,” Rosie mumbles, one eye opening that stops you from covering her. “I’m sorry about tonight.”
“You’ve apologized to me three times today,” You cover her body anyways, joining her on the couch. She gets cold easily. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry you’ve been having shitty sex.” 
Rosie groans, burying her face into the pillow, “God, that’s fucking embarrassing too. I’m sorry you—”
“It’s fine,” You wave dismissively. “Seriously though, that’s terrible.”
“Tell me about it,” Rosie sighs dejectedly, shaking her head. “For once, can’t a guy I date just return the favor?” 
You try not to react, but the alcohol you’ve consumed has lowered your inhibitions, so you boldly ask, “Has no one ever gone down on you?”
Rosie sits up, tilting her head curiously as she stares at you, “Well people have, but I guess never enough for me to enjoy it? I don’t know. Lisa and Jennie hookup from time to time, and share, in great detail, what they do. It makes me wonder if I’m missing out.” 
“I’d say you probably are,” You nod, recollecting memories of the women you’ve slept with thoroughly enjoying the action when you do it. You get off on it alone, but that’s because you like doing that. 
“God, who the hell do I have to meet to experience it then?” 
It’s a question you’re not expected to answer, but you find yourself saying, “No one. I can do it.” 
You want to smack yourself in the head for even suggesting that. It’s treading into dangerous waters because you have to remind yourself who she is in your life. She’s your roommate, for god’s sake. 
“You would?” Rosie asks innocently, as if this was as simple as changing the lightbulb in her room. “Like actually?” 
“Um,” You clear your throat, averting your gaze from her imploring one. “Yeah if you really wanted. I enjoy it so I’m not expecting anything in return.” Your face feels on fire. 
“Okay,” Rosie nods, and your eyes meet hers. “There’s no pressure if you change your mind.”
You scan her face, searching for something—anything—that she’s actually serious. You can’t tell if she is, and she senses your hesitation by adding, “I’m drunk enough to want it, but not that drunk where I don’t know what I’m doing.” 
That gives you some reassurance, but you care the most about how it would affect your friendship. It would have to change something, right? You’ve always separated feelings and sex when it comes to one night stands or flings, but you have real feelings for the woman in front of you, that could either help or hurt you.
You’re not sure which is worse. 
When you still don’t say anything, Rosie continues, “It won’t change anything between us. Just think of it as friends helping each other. Well, I guess in this case, you’re just helping me, but I could return the favor?” 
You shake your head, “No, that’s unnecessary. I’ll manage.” A flat out lie because you know that you’ll become a ball of sexual frustration. You’ll likely have to reach out to someone in your phone book to help out the problem you’re creating for yourself. 
“Are you sure?” Rosie asks softly, hand reaching out to your forearm. Her thumb gently rubs your skin, and your body heats up at the contact. 
“Yeah,” You clear your throat, trying to focus on what you’re about to do. “So how do you want to do this?” You’re not sure if kissing is a part of the deal, but you don’t want to push your luck. 
A blush appears on Rosie’s cheeks, shyly looking away. “Um, how do you usually do it?” 
“Are you really asking me about my moves?” You smirk. It earns you a light slap on the arm. “I don’t have very much.” 
Rosie scoffs, leaning back into the couch, “Why do I find that hard to believe?” 
“Because I have none,” You chuckle, moving to stand in front of her, in between the couch and coffee table. You kneel, pushing the table slightly back to give you more space. “Comfortable?” 
“Nervous,” Rosie breathes out as you settle on your knees.
“Don’t be,” You murmur, reaching for the edge of the blanket. “If you want to stop, just tell me.” 
You pull the blanket off, letting it fall to the ground. There’s a sharp inhale and you grin, meeting her eyes locked onto you. “Let me know, okay? I’ll stop, no questions asked.” 
“Okay,” Her voice shakes, body trembling as your fingers hook onto the waistband of her sweats. 
“This is about you. I can say with one hundred percent confidence that whoever refused to do this is a fucking idiot.” You mean it because with someone like Rosie, she deserves to be worshiped. 
And even if you’ll never be her boyfriend, you could do this. 
You gently tug her sweats off. She lifts her hips up, making it easier for the both of you, and once the clothing’s removed, you notice her cute underwear. It’s nothing out of the ordinary, just a simple black bikini cut with a small pink bow at the top. It’s adorable really, chuckling that her legs reflexively close.
“Don’t be shy,” You rest your chin on her knee, tilting down to place a soft kiss on her skin. Her legs slowly spread, granting you access to more skin.
“That tickles,” Her body shivers as your lips curl up. 
Your fingers grab the waistband of her underwear, slowly dragging it down her legs, watching them join the discarded pile. You settle in between as her knees separate, inviting you to taste her. Your cock stirs at the sight of her pussy, clean and well-kept, that your mouth waters.
You will, but you can’t give in just yet. 
You pepper kisses along her inner thigh, ghosting over her skin that has her absolutely squirming. You place your hands on her knees, spreading her wider and holding her still. You alternate between thighs, sucking lightly on the skin. You shouldn’t want to leave marks, but you can’t help it. You’ll deal with the repercussions later. 
Because the only thing on your mind is her and her alone. 
By the time you reach the apex of her thighs, Rosie sucks in a breath. You briefly glance up to her eyes low, teeth clenching her bottom lip. She gives you the smallest nod before you swipe your tongue in between her folds. 
You let out a breathy groan the moment her slick meets your tongue. Your mind shuts off, body turning on auto-pilot as you explore her center.
“Fuck,” The word falls from your mouth after tentative licks in between her folds. She squirms at the ministrations, taste buds ablaze as her slick drips down your chin. 
“Holy shit,” Rosie lets out a pretty moan, music to your ears as you insert your tongue inside her pussy. 
You swear she gets wetter, the scent of her pussy against your nose has you breathing deeply, soaking all of her in. You move with ease, licking and tasting all she has to offer.
“You’re making a fucking mess,” You growl out when you see the small wet spot form on the couch. You should probably put something under her, but the sounds she’s making are too good to stop. 
“I’m so fucking wet,” The sounds she’s making has you moaning against her pussy as your cock pulses in your sweats. “You feel so good.”
Rosie’s hand shoots to your head, fingers threading through your hair. It forces you to look up at her, and you shove your hand underneath your sweats, gripping your cock, because the sight is unholy. 
You’ve always been attracted to Rosie, that much was obvious the first day you met her. You’d be an idiot if you didn’t see the stares people threw whenever you were with her. Though, she was oblivious to it all, smiling back that would have them swooning. 
But like this? 
You’ve never seen anything hotter. 
You don’t know when it happened, but her hand slipped underneath her shirt, exposing more skin as she touched breasts, squeezing, massaging as your tongue continued its movement. Her hair’s an unruly mess, hair sticking up as a light sheen of sweat covers her face.
What really gets you is the lust-filled gaze, eyes narrowed, silently asking to continue. You’ve never seen her like this, and you can’t help but stroke your length. You keep your eyes locked on hers, tongue swirling in, over, around her pussy, leaving no spot untouched. 
Her grip on your hair tightens as she rolls her hips down, nose brushing against her clit. You slip your hand in between her legs, fingers teasing her outer lips before slowly inserting your index finger.
You watch Rosie’s eyes bulge, gasping, choking for air at the surprised intrusion. Her head tilts back, moaning as she rubs herself over your lower face. 
Rosie says your name like a prayer, a promise, an oath, that you’ll keep. You’d live your life in between her legs if it meant you get to hear her moan your name over and over. 
“God,” Your eyes roll back, intoxicated by her taste, getting harder the more she squirms against your mouth. “If I’m really the first person to actually do this, you’ve been having shitty sex.” 
“You are,” Rosie says through gritted teeth. “I realize that now.”
Her pussy practically sucks you in, your middle finger joining as her walls quickly squeeze around you. You want to make this last, but by the way she feels, and the way her breaths shorten with each inhale, she’s close. 
“Fuck,” Rosie’s hand never left your head, shoving your face deeper in her cunt as her legs spread wide, knees touching the couch. “I think I’m going to cum.”
“Go ahead,” You command, too lust-driven to watch what you say. “You’re so fucking hot. You feel so good around me. I wonder how you’d feel wrapped around my cock.” 
You break character for a moment, explicitly sharing what you want. For a brief second, you wait for her to pull away because this is for her. Her body reacts differently. Her inner walls tighten deliciously after mentioning that, lighting a fire under you. 
“Yeah? You want that?” You taunt, scissoring your fingers, curling, rubbing the muscles. “Your pussy wants my cock huh? God, I’d cum so fucking fast.”
Your thoughts are all over the place, thinking of any and every position you want her in. You need something to relieve yourself as your cock throbs in your hand, blood rushing south as you feel dizzy.
On top of you, watching her hips swivel as she tries to take all of you. Or you’d want to see her ass bouncing on you, legs spread over your knees as you fuck up into her, impatient. Or bent over the couch, ass high as you impale her along your length, so hard that she falls over. 
You don’t realize you’re talking to her pussy, muttering all the filthy things you want to do, until she gushes over your face, screaming as her orgasm rips through her body. Her walls keep your fingers locked in, but that doesn’t deter you. You continue moving your fingers, curling up just enough to hit that spot inside her before both hands are around your neck, holding you there as she thrusts herself on your face. 
You feel lightheaded. You can’t breathe, suffocated by Rosie’s thighs, keeping you there as she grinds haphazardly all over your face. You groan, choking out air as your tongue repeatedly flicks against her clit that has her body spasming.
When you pull away, you gasp, chest heaving as you stare at the blissed out woman in front of you. 
“Holy…” She doesn’t finish her sentence, eyes closed as she’s not faring any better than you. “Your mouth.” 
Embarrassingly enough, you came inside your sweats. You rest your forehead on her thigh before giving her one last peck. You lean back, using the collar of your shirt to wipe your face. 
“So,” You nod, as if what you just did was an everyday occurrence. “I hope you enjoyed that.” 
“Thanks for that,” Rosie gets out in between breaths, eyes opening slowly. “Seriously.” 
“Anytime,” You cringe because it makes you sound desperate. If she asked though, you would do it again. And again. 
And again. 
“I might have to take you up on that,” Rosie sighs dreamily. You chalk it up to the hormones clouding her brain, especially since her orgasm was strong. 
You feel the wetness in your pants, which thankfully they’re black so you couldn’t see your release staining. You distract yourself by gathering Rosie’s clothes. She’s still trying to catch her breath, body limp against the cushions, so you help dress her, slipping her underwear as best you can. 
“It’s fine, I can do it,” Rosie says so softly that you look up, meeting her gaze and something shifts. You can’t describe it, but you could feel something close to adoration just by the way she looks at you. 
Again, you’ll blame the hormones and alcohol, but it scares you to see that she might, in some kind of way, like you the way you do. 
“Let me.” You’re stubborn in that sense. You’ve always been respectful of women. You do your best to make sure they’re comfortable, and aftercare is a part of it. Rosie relents, letting you dress her before covering her with the blanket again. “There. Want me to carry you to your room too?”
“Stop,” Rosie blushes, averting her gaze to anywhere else. “You’ve done enough. I’ll get there, just let me be.”
You nod, rubbing her knee before standing up. “Goodnight Chaengie.” You smile as she lets out a contented sigh, snuggling deeper into the couch. 
-- 
You take a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for Rosie’s return, as you sit on the couch. The very same couch you were in between Rosie’s legs. 
You haven't seen Rosie since Friday night. The following morning, you expected to see her, but you woke up to a text message that she would be out for the weekend with her family in Busan, something she mentioned before about a wedding she had to attend. 
It was a blessing in disguise since it gave you time to ruminate over what happened. 
You weren’t entirely sure how you felt. You knew for certain that you were horny and needed to fuck someone to get out all the pent up tension that your hand could not provide you. You wanted to do it again (and a whole lot more), but that wasn’t something you could ask of her.  
You hoped things between you hadn't changed because it would, for a lack of a better word, suck, if it did. You’d have to find a new place to live when you’ve gotten so used to being in her presence. You’d have to change your number because you wouldn’t be able to face her. You’d also probably have to never talk to Lisa again because the chances of you seeing Lisa with Rosie in tow were high. 
(You’re just being dramatic at this point, but still.)
Rosie sent you a message about an hour ago that she’d be home soon. You contemplated ordering take away from one of her favorite spots, but opted not to and would just ask her if she was hungry as soon as she walked through the door. 
You had to make it seem like nothing changed anyways. 
You almost don’t hear her walk in, too absorbed in your own head that the sound of her whistling breaks you out of your thoughts. 
“Hey oppa,” Rosie greets as she sits next to you, leaving a friendly amount of space in between. 
“Roseanne,” You nod, smirking when she rolls her eyes at the use of her full name. “How was the wedding?” 
“Same old, same old,” Rosie sighs, shoulders dropping as you watch the tension leave her body. “My aunts kept asking me when it would be my turn to get married since Alice-unnie’s engaged, and the disappointment on their face when I told them I’m single was priceless.” 
You chuckle, “I’m sure you could be in a relationship if you want to. It’s not like people aren’t interested.” 
“Eh,” Rosie shrugs, “I know people are interested, but after the last one, I think it’s in my best interest to be single to figure out what I want.” 
She has a point. You haven’t been in a relationship in years, at least nothing serious where you considered marriage. Sure you have flings here and there, but it wasn’t more than just sharing a few meals and spending nights with women who weren’t looking for anything serious. 
It was nice, but there were times you wanted something more than just that. 
You imagined it a lot over the weekend with Rosie, which you partly blame on your feelings for her and watching her cum on your tongue. 
“That’s good,” Is all you can really say without delving too deep in the turmoil you felt over the weekend. 
Rosie checks her phone for a bit, leaving a lull in the conversation. You want to say something to address what happened, but you feel awkward doing so. You stare blankly at the blank television screen as she responds to whoever. 
“What’s wrong?” Rosie asks after a couple minutes. 
“Oh, uh, nothing,” You rush out, avoiding her gaze burning on the side of your face. 
Rosie places her phone on the coffee table before turning to face you, tugging on your arm. You can’t help but look at her, noticing the concerned look she’s giving you. She waits, and you relent, sighing, “Fine, I thought things would be awkward.”
“Awkward because…?” Rosie trails off as you watch her face blush, realizing what you mean. “That? Nothing’s changed. Sure, you might’ve set the bar really high for people in that department, but it’s nothing to make things awkward between us.” 
“Rosie,” You deadpan. 
“Oppa.” She knows how much formalities like that irritate you, especially when it’s just you two. 
“You sure?” You ask, needing this reassurance from her because your friendship with her has become one of the most important things to you. 
Rosie nods enthusiastically, smiling, as she leans forward to rest her head on your shoulder, “Yes. More than sure. I felt comfortable the whole time and I don’t regret it.” 
You smile, the guilt of taking advantage of her lifting off your chest. It doesn’t lessen how you feel about her, but at least you could live with knowing that. 
“Sooo…” Rosie drawls out, playing with the sleeve of your shirt. “Did you want to do it again?” 
What?
“Uh?” You’re dumbfounded. 
“I mean you could say no!” Rosie says quickly, pulling away. “It was nice, like really nice, and I think it could be fun to do it every once in a while.” 
“You’re actually serious?” 
“I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t,” Rosie shrugs indifferently. 
You internally groan because you feel your cock starting to get hard at the thought of doing that again. You gain nothing from this except material for you to use after the fact because you still wouldn’t be able to ask her to help out. 
“Sure why not.” You’ll deal with your hormones after, in a very cold shower. 
“Really?” Rosie beams, giggling as she sinks into the couch. 
“Here? Or…?” You glance behind her to the hallway. 
“I don’t mind the bedroom,” Rosie whispers. 
That’s all the confirmation you need.
You stand abruptly, scooping Rosie in your arms, that she squeals at being carried. You chuckle as she playfully hits you, arms encircling around your neck tightly. 
“You’re so annoying,” Rosie mutters against your neck.
You try to ignore the sensation of her breath on your skin by pulling her closer to your body. You don’t want to drop her after all. 
“Yeah, well, in about ten minutes, you’ll be saying something else.”
“You promise?” 
“Absolutely.” 
-- -- 
It was a mistake, telling your friends about your situation with Rosie. They asked why you seemed happier because you couldn’t just be happy without a reason. 
Rosie may be the reason why, but well, you didn’t have an excuse. 
She is the reason why. 
Which is an odd thing to say because you literally don’t get anything out of this except a shit ton of sexual frustration that you deal with—alone. You haven’t had the heart to ask anyone on a date lately, or entertain the women that you meet when you’re out and about. 
You’ve done everything to Rosie you possibly could, yet she doesn’t get tired of your mouth. 
At the rate you two were going, you’ve had to have developed some kind of jaw problem. 
She asked one night, after you washed your face, while watching one of her shows before you went to bed, if she could sit on it. By her logic, and something you found out accidentally, she finds men who take care of themselves to be attractive. Not that that comment went to your head because then by your logic, she would have to find you attractive. 
There was a time when she wore an oversized shirt and nothing else except for cute cheeky underwear that you tried very hard not to notice as you were making a smoothie. It didn’t help that she kept shaking her hips in front of you when you asked her if she wanted something, which was met with her bending over against the counter. It wasn’t like you could say no, especially when she slowly pulled her underwear down. 
Then, there was another time after a night out that she practically pushed you to your knees to eat her out right against the door. 
With too many times in between, you’ve basically haven’t had a decent, satisfying release since this one-sided arrangement started—two months ago. Your hand could only do so much for you. 
Your friends may have noticed you were happy, but they also saw how on edge you were that they asked what was going on. You might’ve been a little too loose with your words to say you’ve been spending time with Rosie by doing that for her, but then you haven’t gotten anything out of it. 
“Bro, you just gotta fuck someone if she’s not going to fuck you,” Jungkook says in your ear as Taehyung and Minwoo nod in agreement.
“It just feels wrong to,” You sigh, shoulders dropping as you drop your head on the table. 
“Wait,” Minwoo raises an eyebrow. “Are you saying you like Chaeyoung?” 
Your silence is enough for them. 
“Dude!” Jungkook slaps your back, much harder than you expected, jolting your head up. “What kind of shit is that? You haven’t fucked her. Hell, you guys haven’t even kissed.”
“Don’t talk about her like that,” You almost growl out, eyes narrowing toward Jungkook that he switches spots with Taehyung. 
“Well that says a lot,” Minwoo nods to himself in confirmation. 
“What?” 
“You do like Chaeyoung, but we sort of—minus Kook—already knew,” Minwoo explains, sipping his beer. 
“Okay, yeah, you’re right,” Shoulders dropping as you admit out loud that you do like Rosie. You may even be in love with her, but that’s something you’ll keep to yourself. 
Minwoo and Taehyung shoot you a sympathetic smile that makes you feel worse. Jungkook, however, completely misses the point, “Well why don’t you just fuck her out of your system?” 
“Do you always have to talk so crassly about women?” Taehyung sighs, shaking his head while slapping the back of Jungkook’s. 
“What!” Jungkook rolls his eyes, rubbing the spot he hit. “I get it. It must be hard to live with someone and do something like that with them for nothing in return. By the way, you’re a saint because if I—” Jungkook doesn’t finish that statement as Taehyung hits him again. 
“Sorry Tae,” Minwoo shoots you a look, “I sort of agree with him.”
“You what?” You and Taehyung speak at the same time. 
“It’s not healthy by any means. You’re probably a god in her eyes, but let’s be honest, you know you need to,” Minwoo says matter-of-factly. 
“I mean, I guess? It just feels wrong to,” You reason, trying to make up an excuse. 
“Why? It’s not like you’re dating. She’s single as far as you know. I’m sure you could find someone tonight if you really tried,” Minwoo encourages, nodding his head to the crowd in the bar. 
“I invited Jeongyeon,” Taehyung says suddenly. 
“What, why? It’s supposed to be a boys’ night out,” Jungkook whines, pouting like a puppy that you all ignore. 
Taehyung glances at you before answering, “Nayeon’s in town. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to see her since she’s hardly around.”
“Dude,” You glare at Taehyung, who isn’t fazed by your tone. “Are you fucking serious?” 
“What?” Taehyung shrugs. “You two ended just fine, and she’s also single. So why not have a nice one night stand with someone you know very well?” 
You want nothing more than to punch Taehyung in his face, but you also do not want to get kicked out of this bar you go to often.
Im Nayeon. 
A woman you haven’t seen in years, but she’s also the woman you dated for about three years. 
The breakup was amicable. No bad blood between you. Life was pulling you in different directions that neither of you wanted to give up your dreams to stay together. Nayeon moved to Busan while you stayed in Seoul. 
You’d be happy to see her on any other occasion, or maybe, any other moment in your life where you weren’t pining for someone that was your roommate. 
The problem is, Nayeon would actually be down to have sex with you. A problem that’s too tempting in the state that you’re in where, as your friends eloquently put it, you need to get laid. 
“I’m going home,” You stand, digging through your pockets for whatever bills you had. 
“Too late,” Minwoo mumbles before you hear Nayeon’s obnoxious laugh behind you. 
“What? Leaving already? I just got here, oppa,” The all-too familiar voice says as you turn around. You’re met with a toothy smile and eyes squinted that you can’t stop the smile forming on your face. 
Fuck. 
-- 
You’ve missed Nayeon. She has always been someone that made you laugh even when you’ve had the worst days. She still has the same obnoxious laugh and teases you to no end, but she’s different from how she was. 
Nayeon still has that level of immaturity when it comes to trivial things, but the way she carries herself proves she’s much more confident and sure of herself. She listens to what you tell her whether it be about work or how your sister wants you to spend more time with her, giving advice when appropriate. 
Your friends left you two alone when a billiards table opened up. Jungkook and Jeongyeon nodded approvingly like they were expecting something to happen tonight, which as things were unfolding was highly likely. 
“So are you dating anyone?” Nayeon asks after finishing the third round of drinks. 
You hesitate, quickly shaking your head as the bartender comes over and asks if you wanted anything else. It buys you some time, but once the drinks are poured, Nayeon waits for an answer. 
“I’m not,” You take a hefty swig, choosing your words carefully because Nayeon has a tendency to dice and analyze stuff like this. “It’s a bit complicated?” 
“When is it not with you?” Nayeon teases, biting her lip to hide her smile. “Tell me about her.” 
You thought it would be weird to talk to your ex-girlfriend about the woman you’re currently interested in, who happens to also be your roommate. She doesn’t say much, except for clarification on minor details, as you do your best to give a condensed version of who Rosie was to you. 
When you bring up that night, you wait to get scolded for taking advantage of Rosie, Nayeon surprises you by remaining indifferent. If you were looking at her, you wouldn’t have missed her eyes slightly narrowing as you describe how much Rosie uses this ‘perk’ frequently. 
You finish, and the weight on your shoulders feel a little lighter, like you can actually sit up straight for once. You see the wheels turning in Nayeon’s head, picking her words carefully. 
“Tell her how you feel,” Nayeon says softly, leaning slightly forward just enough to smell her perfume. 
“It’s really not that simple,” You sigh, leaning forward as your shoulder brushes against hers. 
Nayeon rolls her eyes, “It seems pretty cut and dry. You accidentally fall in love with your roommate, eat her out so well that you’ve practically ruined her for any other person, that she actually ends up falling in love with you too, but is too scared to do anything about it since you’re roommates. The only thing to quote unquote keep you is to ask you multiple times throughout the week to eat her out. Am I wrong?” 
“You’re so annoying,” You shake your head. 
“But you’re not saying I’m wrong, so just either tell her how you feel,” Nayeon reiterates, resting a hand on your thigh, “Or you’re going to get blue-balled to the point of insanity. Which for what it’s worth, is a loss for her because whenever you’re really riled up, sex is amazing.” 
“Nayeon,” You grit out, reaching for your drink because this is not what you want to talk about with her, of all people. 
Realization crosses her face and she giggles, hitting your thigh three times before saying, “You’re frustrated, aren’t you? Oh this is gold. I can’t believe you, of all people, are having trouble sealing the deal.” 
“Fuck off,” You pout, turning away to hide the embarrassment on your face. 
“Hey,” Nayeon says softly, affectionately, that it’s jumbling your thoughts as you try to separate how you feel about Rosie and the pent up energy waiting to be released. “I’m just kidding about the whole ‘sealing the deal’ part. It took a while to win me over.” It’s a joke between you because she was the one that pursued you after working on a project together. 
“Nayeon,” You sigh dejectedly as you turn to face her, resting your face in your hand. 
“Hm?” She raises an eyebrow after she sips her glass. You ask a question, but it’s barely audible. “Speak up.” 
“Do you want to spend the night together?” 
Nayeon doesn’t answer right away, choosing to swirl the ice in her glass. 
It gives you a chance to drink some water because the alcohol is definitely getting to you if you brazenly asked your ex-girlfriend to spend the night. There’s a part of you that wants her to say no thank you, but there’s a more selfish part that wants her to say yes. 
“When was the last time you had sex?” Nayeon asks after a few minutes, dragging it longer than necessary.
The question catches you off guard, but you answer, “Probably three months ago.” 
She makes a humming sound, raising her hand for the bill as the bartender walks by, “Fine. On one condition.” 
“What?” You shift on your seat, excited and eager that she’s agreeing. You pull out your wallet, handing your card to the bartender before he could hand her the bill. 
Nayeon leans forward, invading your space to feel her breath against your skin. You brace yourself for whatever she has to say. 
“Fuck me like I’m her.”
--
You hear footsteps across the hardwood floor, but it’s not enough to stop you from what you’re doing—making a smoothie. It isn’t until two arms wrap around your stomach that prompts you to stop. 
“You and these damn smoothies,” Nayeon mumbles, nuzzling her face into your back. 
“I made you one too.” Nayeon giggles, sneaking a hand underneath your shirt. Your muscles flex at her touch. “Having fun there?” You ask as her finger traces up and down, sending a shiver down your spine. 
“Always with you,” Nayeon kisses your shoulder blade, peering her head around to watch. 
It’s nice to be like this with Nayeon. It’s familiar, the same sort of routine you had after spending countless nights together. You had a tendency to wake up before her, especially after a night like last night. 
Nayeon was insatiable—still is—and you both reaped the benefits of your sexual frustration. She wouldn’t let up, practically begging you to do all the things you wanted to do, as if it was Rosie you were fucking. She didn’t care how hard or fast you went because she knew how you were when it came to sex. 
There’s a bit of guilt that you couldn’t make it to your room. Nayeon practically jumped on you as soon as you entered the apartment, dragging you to the couch before the door fully shut. She was in your lap before you knew it, stroking you to a full mast that had you seeing stars. One moment you were groaning against her lips, the next she was kneeling in between your legs. 
The rest of the night was just you taking all your pent up frustration out. Nayeon welcomed it, spurring you on by whispering the thoughts you’ve had about Rosie in your ear. You nearly lost yourself to the sensation of Nayeon’s body wrapped around yours, overwhelming you when the picture of Rosie popped into your mind. 
It was almost morning by the time you both tapped out, exhausted and relaxed. You had never had anyone stay in your bed, but it was nice to cuddle with Nayeon before sleep took over. Rosie wasn’t home, vacationing with her family on Jeju Island, so you weren’t expecting their paths to cross. Nayeon had plans with her sister and mother anyways before she had to return to Busan. 
“Is your roommate home?” Nayeon asks once you hand her the smoothie.
You shake your head, turning around to face her, “Rosie’s coming home tonight.” 
Nayeon leans into you as you place your free hand on her waist, gently rubbing her back. “So…” The teasing glint in her eyes spells mischief. 
“Seriously?” You knew Nayeon had a high sex drive, but you’re not sure you have anything left. “Four times wasn’t enough?” 
“One for good luck?” The smoothie’s on the counter, her arms wrapping around your neck as she stands on her tiptoes. Her lips brush against yours, murmuring, “You know you want to.”
You couldn’t ignore the effect she has on your body, cock awakening when she presses her body just enough. Nayeon’s hot, and she knows how to push every single one of your buttons. 
“Why not right here?” Nayeon nips at your bottom lip, sucking lightly.
“There’s food on the counter,” You reason, eyes closing as you move your lips languidly against hers. 
“And…?” Nayeon pulls away, dropping on her heels. 
Your eyes open slowly, hand immediately dropping when they land on Rosie standing in the hallway. 
It’s like a deer caught in the headlights. You watch her mouth open and close, but no sound comes out. Nayeon senses your body tense, head turning slightly and a grin forms on her face. 
“Hi,” Nayeon says casually. She turns around so that her back’s against your front. She loops your arms around her waist as you stifle a groan at her bottom pressed directly over your crotch. “I’m Nayeon, it’s nice to meet you. You must be Rosie right?” 
You didn’t realize Nayeon’s clothing choice because she’s wearing one of your shirts, falling mid-thigh. She’s wearing her underwear, at least, but even that does nothing to hide the small love bites you left on her skin. 
Rosie clears her throat, “Yeah.” You hear her voice crack. “It’s nice to meet you too. Um,” Her eyes shift to yours, “I’ll leave you two alone. Sorry to, uh, intrude.”
You’re barely able to get a word out before Rosie rushes to her room, leaving you and Nayeon to watch her door quietly shut. The woman in your arms chuckles, shaking her head. 
“That was rude,” You lightly scold, pinching her stomach. 
“Look,” Nayeon shakes you off before turning to face you, crossing her arms, “Give it a month, at most three, you’ll be together.” 
“You were toying with her,” You roll your eyes, mirroring her stance. 
“How?” Nayeon snaps, eyes glaring. “Neither you nor I knew she was going to be here this morning. Maybe her seeing you with someone else was a wake up call.” 
“Yeah but still, you didn’t need to do all that,” You argue. It’s a weak position, but you had to justify it somehow. 
“Don’t act all high and mighty. You literally came inside me twice. Call a spade a spade, you fucked me while thinking of her, which I have no issue with. My issue is, how long can you act like you’re not in love with her?” You almost interject, but she raises a finger, “I know you are. Give me that, at least.” 
Nayeon stares, waiting for your response, but you have nothing. She’s right in every sense because you are in love with Rosie.
“It may have been a few years since we dated, but I still care about you,” Nayeon continues to talk, sending you a sympathetic smile, “Just be honest with yourself and her. There’s something there.” 
“Okay,” Your shoulders sag, avoiding her gaze. You’re probably pouting based on Nayeon’s fingers suddenly cupping your chin, tilting your head up. “What?” 
“It’ll work out, trust me. You might not know girls as well as I do, but it was all over her face.” You raise an eyebrow. “She’s jealous.” 
-- -- 
You’re confused, stumped even on how to proceed. 
Things have been awkward. 
It’s not like you’re avoiding each other because you still see her in the mornings and evenings. It’s always a brief conversation about how things are going, then Rosie excuses herself either to her room or she has plans. 
You might as well be avoiding each other. 
You feel the need to explain yourself, but Nayeon has been in your messages saying that you owe her nothing because it’s “her thing to deal with”—whatever that means. You tried asking her to explain, but she was adamant to just wait. 
It’s been a couple weeks since you spent the night with Nayeon. Rosie’s been distant ever since.
Lisa’s birthday party is this evening and you briefly spoke with Rosie to go together, but she isn’t home yet. You caught her this morning to confirm plans, which she was all for, quickly agreeing before she left for work. 
Rosie’s late. You have half the mind to call her and ask her where she is. The party started at seven, and when you glance at the clock, it’s five past. It’s normal to arrive late to events, but it’s a good drive across town that Lisa would give you a hard time if you show up after Jennie. 
You contemplate leaving without Rosie when the front door swings open a minute later. 
“I’m so sorry, my meeting ran late and my coworker needed help with her opening statement,” Rosie rushes out when she sees you sitting on the couch. “Give me, like, three minutes.” She doesn’t give you a chance to respond as she hurries to her room. 
You weren’t planning on drinking. You haven’t since you saw Nayeon because you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself in front of Rosie. It’s the first time since that morning where you’ll actually be hanging out with her, even though your friends will be there too. 
You don’t keep track of time, but the sound of heels on the hallway floor brings your attention to Rosie. Your jaw nearly drops because she’s absolutely stunning. She’s wearing this brown sheer outfit? You don’t know how to explain it. It’s revealing, her pale skin looks luminescent under the fabric. Her top’s fucking open, stomach showing as it flows over her skin, rustling through her purse before her eyes meet yours. 
“Ready?” 
You clench your jaw, averting your gaze before returning. You prayed to whatever higher being that she doesn’t realize you were practically undressing her with your eyes. You try to play it cool, nodding with a soft yeah. 
Rosie nods, “Let’s go.” 
You desperately want to reach out, pulling her body against yours to whisper to her all the things you want to do to her, but you don’t. You just hoped that things would go back to normal, whatever normal was. 
-- 
Rosie laughs, shifting in your lap as Jennie tells her something about someone they know. You stifle a groan as that particular movement has your cock straining against your slacks. You readjust your legs, as Rosie settles more into you, having the nerve to loosely wrap her arm around your neck. You don’t know if she knows what she’s doing to you, but you have a feeling she does.
The party’s in full swing. A few of Lisa’s friends are singing off-tune while the rest are conversing, drinking. You could be enjoying it more, engaging more, if it wasn’t for the problem in between your legs. Something caused by the very woman who’s animatedly talking about another person they know. 
The drive from the apartment wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t good. The conversation was stiff, forced, and the songs from Rosie’s phone filled the silence. You felt like you didn’t know what to say after the night with Nayeon, embarrassed that she caught you like that, even though your ex-girlfriend aggressively reminded you that you two weren’t dating. Rosie spent most of the ride on her phone, typing away to whoever or scrolling through her socials. 
Stop lights had never felt so long. 
It wasn’t until you parked that Rosie broke the ice. 
“I don’t want things to be weird between us,” Rosie said quietly, unbuckling her seatbelt to face you. “I’m sorry I was rude to Nayeon, and I’m sorry if I’ve been distant.” 
You changed your position, turning your head, “I’m sorry too. Let’s just go back to how things were before?” 
She tilts her head, expression unreadable that the hairs on your neck stand. There’s a sudden tension in the air that you can’t quite place, but being this close to her has your senses heightened. 
“Sure,” Rosie’s voice barely comes out in a whisper, “Let’s do that.” 
It was nice to see all the people here to celebrate Lisa, but what made it even nicer was Rosie was always next to you. She might not have been directly part of the conversations you were having, but she was always close by. At one point, her fingers threaded through yours, palm soft against your skin. 
When Jennie arrived, she immediately pulled you with her. She guided you to sit on the free space on the bench. You were about to move to make room when her hand was on your shoulder, stopping you, and she sat in between your legs. 
“What about you, oppa?” The question catches you off guard, breaking you out of your thoughts. You haven’t been paying attention to their conversation, so you have no substance to contribute. 
“You okay?” Rosie asks, a sly smirk on her face, confirming she knows exactly what she’s doing and she’s getting the reaction she wants. “You look… distracted.” 
Clearing your throat, hoping your voice doesn’t sound too hoarse, “Just great.” It must not work based on the chuckle she lets out. “Sorry, what are you two gossip queens talking about?” 
Jennie’s eyes narrow, huffing, “First of all, we weren’t gossiping. I was just telling Rosie about my trip to France with my mother. And to answer your question, I asked what was new with you.” 
Oh. 
That was easy to answer. There hadn’t been much going in your life since you last saw Jennie, which wasn’t too long ago. By the time you finish telling her about an upcoming business trip to the United States, a mischievous glint forms in her eyes. 
“Dating anyone?” The woman in your lap stiffens at the question. “Rosie mentioned that you had someone over recently.” 
“Oh well,” You shrug, not entirely sure how to answer. “Yeah, I did. It was just a one night stand.” 
“So you aren’t dating her?” Jennie prods as the tension rolls off Rosie’s body. 
“No, I’m not dating anyone.” You answer flatly, slightly annoyed with her sudden interest in your dating life. 
“Interesting,” Jennie nods, crossing her arms as she leans back. She seems satisfied with your answer, glancing at Rosie who still feels tense. You sneak a hand around her, arm resting on her waist as you give a reassuring squeeze. Her body relaxes into your touch. You missed how Jennie observed the small interaction, only hearing her say, “Very interesting.”  
-- 
This is dangerous, very dangerous. 
You didn’t know what was worse–getting caught or dying. Though there was a thrill that came with the former. 
You couldn’t pinpoint what changed, but as soon as you and Rosie entered the car, that same heavy tension was there. You couldn’t ignore it, and it didn’t seem like she could either, by the way she kept fidgeting in her seat as you drove home. 
It snapped the moment you hit a red light because suddenly Rosie’s lips were on yours. You couldn’t help the small moan being swallowed by her mouth eagerly on yours. You practically melted into the kiss, leaning over to the center console, but the sound of the car horn blaring behind you had you reluctantly pulling away. 
“How well can you drive?” Your eyes were focused on the road when Rosie’s hand rested on your thigh. You thought it was a weird question to ask. She had been in the car with you numerous times and you take safety seriously after a wicked crash when you were younger.
“Uh, pretty well?” You answered dumbly, braking slowly as the next traffic signal turned red. 
“Good,” Rosie nodded, hand inching dangerously closer to your crotch. 
“Chaeng,” You glanced down, watching her hand swiftly undo your belt. “What the fuck are you doing?” 
“Eyes on the road,” Rosie murmured. Her other hand reached over, unbuttoning your slacks just enough. “Don’t crash.” 
Another car horn went off, giving you no choice but to drive. You saw Rosie move the seat belt, freeing her movement as her body leaned over the center console. 
“Chaeng,” You groaned the moment her hand made contact, slipping your cock out of your briefs. 
“Don’t crash.”
You couldn’t make any promises. Your body jerked when you felt her lips gently brush over you, tongue licking slowly over the tip. 
You definitely weren’t expecting any of this tonight, but you weren’t against it. 
Even if it jeopardizes your safety and life.
“Fuck,” You mutter underneath your breath as Rosie’s mouth takes you in again. She goes lower on your length, the apartment building getting closer. The grip on the steering wheel tightens when you hit the back of her throat. “Chaeng,” You warn, your control slipping as your foot presses on the accelerator. 
Her mouth’s immediately off you, but she keeps her hand wrapped around you. Your body tenses, unsure of her next move. You focus entirely on the road, and not on her hand slowly stroking you. 
“I had a feeling you were big,” Rosie says casually, leaning her head on your shoulder. “Do you think it’ll fit?” She murmurs against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. 
Her lips press on your jaw, muscle tensing underneath her touch. You almost let out a sigh of relief when you take a tight turn into the driveway, but it comes out as a gasp because she decides to drop her head. 
“Dear fuck,” You groan, peeling into the assigned parking spot. By the time you put the car in park, your fingers thread through her hair, hips thrusting up. 
Hitting the back of her throat, Rosie shoots up, gasping for air before her warm, wet mouth’s around you once again. Your fingers tense, tugging at her hair when she chokes, throat constricting around your length. Your head falls back against the headrest as a pit forms in your stomach. 
“I’m, I’m—fuck,” You can barely start your sentence, grip loosening as your vision blurs. 
“You’re doing so well for me.” You know that Rosie’s talking to you, and the praise does something to you. “You deserve this,” She continues, hand steadily stroking with the occasional lick along the underside of your length. “I’ll be good for you. I’ll let you finish inside my mouth, yeah?” She goads, voice dropping an octave, driving you absolutely insane. 
“Fuck, yes, yes,” You chant, nodding desperately before making a mistake that ends you. 
You gain some semblance of control of your body, eyes opening and looking down right when Rosie’s pretty lips wrap around your cock. You whimper, hand shooting to the back of her head, as you release into her mouth. You choke out a few breaths, hips driving upward as you push her head farther along. You’re met with no resistance, feeling her throat relax when her nose touches your pubic bone. Your vision goes white, a guttural groan falls from your lips, feeling her cheeks hollow as you just keep cumming. 
You don’t know where you start and she ends, but when it does, Rosie lifts her head. You see the smallest dribble of your cum on her chin, painting a vivid image of her face covered in you. You watch her bring her thumb up, wiping it into her mouth, licking her lips before meeting your fucked out gaze. 
“Open your mouth,” You say quietly, lifting your hand to cup her chin. She follows your command, slowly opening her mouth, and all you see is pink, no trace of you inside. “Good girl,” You murmur, pulling her lips to yours.
Sighing contentedly, Rosie’s lips move languidly against yours. She pulls away after a few moments, resting her forehead on yours, “Sleep with me tonight?” 
Whatever she wants. 
--
No sleep was happening. 
You were naive to think you’d actually be sleeping. 
Once you made yourself somewhat presentable, in the event you saw another tenant, you let Rosie pull you out of the car. Your knees almost buckled the moment you stood, but she was there to catch you, giggling against your chest as she held you up. 
“You’re being dramatic,” Rosie commented as you draped an arm around her. 
“You sucked the literal life out of me,” You couldn’t help your bluntness. The hormones were still releasing and all you wanted to do was pull her into you more. “I could’ve crashed,” You added, unsure of how you made it, but thankful you did. 
“Well thanks,” Rosie said, a blush forming on her face that you don’t miss. “For, you know, keeping us alive.” 
You smiled, eyes drooping as Rosie dragged you to the elevator. She lightly scolded you when you’d drop your weight onto her, huffing cutely before snuggling deeper into your side. That was a win for you. 
When you finally made it inside the apartment, your body was on autopilot and went straight to your room, Rosie glued to your side. 
“Oppa,” Whining as she struggled to get out of your hold, “I want to change.” 
You hardly pay her any mind, falling onto your bed and taking Rosie with you. She shrieked, hitting your back. 
“Go change,” You mumbled, head turning to face her. “Come back when you’re done.” 
Rosie booped your nose with her pinky, getting up before you could react. You heard her giggles as she ran out of the room. You were sure you were sporting a dopey smile. 
You decided to follow suit. Changing in your mind was shrugging off your pants and haphazardly taking your shirt off, barely undoing any of the buttons. You tended to have a more thorough nightly routine that involved you sleeping in more clothes, but you were in too much of a relaxed state to care.
It could’ve been hours, dozing in and out of sleep, when it was really only ten minutes before Rosie returned. 
“No pajamas?” Rosie scoffed playfully. 
You opened one eye and saw her nightwear choice. An oversized shirt you recognized immediately since it was your shirt that went missing a few months ago. You chalked it up to being left on vacation, but here it was, barely covering the culprit’s body. 
“No clothes of your own?” You retorted, earning a smack on your back. 
“Whatever,” Point you. “Let’s just sleep now.” 
Sleep my ass. 
“I told you,” Rosie gasps, body trembling as she folds forward, lips pressed against yours. “I’d be good for you.” 
“So fucking good,” You moan watching your length disappear in between her legs. “Such a good girl.” 
You were on your side, your hand resting high on Rosie’s waist. You were trying to sleep, but she kept squirming. It wasn’t until she was pressed up against you that she stopped. 
Or so you thought she’d just fall asleep. 
As your body relaxed, inhaling the scent of Rosie so close to you, you felt her hand in between your bodies, landing perfectly on your crotch. She started slowly, cupping and rubbing your cock over the fabric. You couldn’t help the bodily response, hardening as time went on. 
“Chaeng,” You moaned softly against her head. 
“I want you,” Rosie whispered, her lips placing a kiss on the underside of your jaw. “Let me be good for you.” 
You didn’t know how she did it, but you were suddenly on your back with Rosie on top of you. You couldn’t remember if she wore anything underneath your shirt, but the warmth of her center over your briefs has you lost in the sensation. 
“You know,” Rosie’s hands worked quickly to pull you out, “I’m usually not this forward, but,” You whimpered when she guided your cock to her slit, “I’ve been thinking about this since you let me sit on your face while we were watching a show. Want to hear a secret?” 
You nodded, too entranced by her playing with your cock against her. She could be telling you that she committed murder. 
“I couldn’t help but touch myself again later that night,” Rosie inhaled sharply when she brushed you against her clit. “I saw your sweats tented and imagined what you’d feel like.” 
If you remembered correctly, that time she mentioned wasn’t too long after the first time. That made you dizzy to think about because she already came over your face, but she still touched herself after. 
And that was hot. 
“Guess I’m about to find out.” 
Bringing you to fill Rosie to the hilt, swallowing the moans she lets out against your lips. Your head falls onto the pillow, watching her steady herself as her body adjusts to the intrusion. 
“Am I doing well?” Her eyes are low, barely being held open as you watch the pleasure wash over her face. 
“You could do better,” You bring your hands behind your head. Her eyes widen when you roll your hips, telling her in a not-so-subtle way to show you just how good she could be. 
Maybe you should’ve kept your mouth shut, but you have never been known to say the most appropriate thing. Your words light a fire in her, and you see the switch happen in real time. 
“Better?” Rosie shifts slightly, resting her knees at your sides while keeping you snug in between her warm walls. “Okay,” She nods before slowly raising her hips as your cock appears. 
Rosie goes for the kill, slamming her body against yours. Your hands shoot to her hips, the move startling you. She repeats the motion again, again, and again. 
“Good?” Rosie pulls away, sitting upright. 
“So fucking good,” Is all you know how to say and you keep saying that when Rosie moves her body on top of you, undulating her hips. 
You’re hypnotized as she works herself over you, swiveling her hips and rolling her body. You watch her movement stutter, realizing quickly she found the perfect tempo and spot. You can’t ignore the knot forming as she continues her ministrations. She’s moving faster, signaling she’s close. You also can’t ignore how soaked it is between your bodies. 
“Such a good girl,” You mutter absentmindedly, her pace increasing as her inner muscles tighten. “Good girls cum, yeah?” 
Rosie nods, mewling in your lap, “Yes, I’m good. I know I’m being good.” She babbles, eyes rolling back as she tightens forcefully around you, body wracked with tremors as her orgasm hits. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Your hips move on their own accord, thrusting up into her as your hands pull her along your cock. “Do you want me to pull—”
Rosie vigorously shakes her head, collapsing into you as she grabs your hands off her hips. She pins your hands over your head. You feel her walls contract, squeezing you tightly that you can’t stop yourself from cumming, painting her insides white. Your lips find hers, a filthy moan leaves your mouth as you let everything out. 
“It’s so much,” Rosie gasps out, small aftershocks hitting her body as you roll your hips up, prolonging both your orgasms. 
You didn’t realize how hard you were gripping her hands until you felt a gentle squeeze. She’s a mess on top of you, hair wild and all over the place as she catches her breath. 
You kiss her temple, breathing hard as her body goes limp on top of yours. You carefully move to pull yourself out, wincing at the release in pressure. Her sudden intake of breath doesn’t go unnoticed, kissing her again. 
“Sorry,” You whisper. It all feels wet down there and the sicker side of you wants to see what it looks like, but you have a feeling this will happen again. 
“Sleep,” Rosie mumbles, burying her face into the crook of your neck. 
You chuckle, shaking your head. You agree that sleep is what should happen next, but you couldn’t leave her like this—as hot as it would be. 
“Let me clean up first,” You coo. She doesn’t respond, the light snores you hear below has you rolling your eyes.
You do your best to maneuver yourself out from underneath her, minimally disturbing her as you roll out of bed. You grab what you need from the bathroom to come back to Rosie laying on her stomach. You try to clean the mess you made, internally battling with yourself if you should move to her room. 
Rosie’s too adorable in your bed that you decide not to. You pull a pair of old shorts out, slipping it on her frame. When you're satisfied with what you could do, you shut the lights off. 
You’ll have to change your bedsheets at some point, but Rosie curling into your side as soon as you slide underneath the comforter makes you forget about it. 
-- -- 
You’re grinning as soon as you walk through the door. Your eyes immediately fall onto Rosie staring intently at her laptop screen as she chose the kitchen as her office for the day. 
“Jagiya,” You say affectionately when you’re behind her, kissing her sweetly on the top of her head. “I have news.” 
Rosie’s half paying attention, humming as you massage her shoulders. “What?” She asks distractedly, typing away.
“I’m moving out,” You announce, proud of the statement as the sound of her keyboard stops. 
“You’re what?” 
“I’m moving out,” You pull up the stool to sit next to her. 
Rosie raises an eyebrow, confused at what you’re saying because you’ve been living together for two years and dating for almost a year. 
It should’ve been a weird transition—the whole roommates turned lovers thing—but it actually wasn’t. It was almost too easy, in which the only problem you had was who’s room you were sleeping in. 
“Where are you going?” She asks pointedly, crossing her arms whenever she felt she was getting tested. 
It’s a test she’s thinking too hard about. 
You say an address, one you’re both familiar with, and you chuckle when you see her nose scrunch. 
“Uh… Okay…” Rosie trails off, puzzled at your news. “Did something happen?” 
You see the wheels turning in her head, thoughts and memories flickering through her mind as she racks her brain over what you’re getting at. 
“Nope,” You respond simply, popping the p. “Are you going to ask which unit?” 
“You’re being difficult,” Rosie huffs, shaking her head. “Where the fuck are you moving?” 
“This one,��� You say simply, grinning as her expression goes blank. 
“What?” 
You reach out, pulling her body onto your lap. Nuzzling your face into her neck, “I’m moving in.” 
“You’ve been moved in, dumb dumb,” Rosie flicks your forehead. “What’re you getting at? I’m getting irritated.” 
“Well, oh love of my life,” You peck her cheek sweetly, ignoring the glare she sends your way. “Let’s turn my room into an office since we spend most nights in your room. Yours is bigger anyways.” 
It’s been gnawing at you for the past month. There were a few things you had been waiting for too before bringing it up. Number one being this promotion your bosses really want you to have with a larger increase in your pay. 
“What about all our clothes?” Rosie asks after a moment. Of course that would be on her mind, out of everything. 
“We just move some things around,” You say easily, shrugging because that isn’t that big of a deal. “I love you.” 
“And I love you too,” Rosie smiles, looping her arms around your neck as she leans forward. “But we really don’t have to do all that. I don’t mind working out here!” She gestures to the living room and kitchen. 
You shake your head, smiling softly, “I know you don’t, but I do. You should be able to separate the spaces.” 
It’s definitely more of a you thing because you want Rosie to be able to work without it bleeding into the areas she spends the most time in. She hasn’t complained, but you could tell she never actually relaxes when she’s home. 
“You’re sweet,” Rosie mumbles, lips pressed against yours that you find yourself smiling. You lower your arms, wrapping loosely around her waist to bring her closer. She lets out a hmph before melting into the embrace. “You’re so good to me.” 
The praises echoes in your mind, groaning softly when she moves her lips against yours. “So, so good,” She breathes out that the grip on her waist tightens. 
“Chaeng.” She’s highly aware of the effect that has on you, but you’re preparing yourself for what she does next. 
“I think I should reward you,” Rosie’s index finger trails down your jaw. “You take care of me so well.” 
You can’t even say anything as Rosie kisses you one last time before taking a step back, slowly dropping to her knees. The sight of her in between your legs is one you never tire of. 
“Be good baby,” You scratch the top of her head, undoing her ponytail as blonde hair frames her face. 
“For you? Always.” 
-- -- -- 
777 notes · View notes
the-californicationist · 1 month ago
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Cali's Kinktober: Day 03
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Kinktober Masterlist in absentia lucis - "in the absence of light" John Price x f!reader Kinks > rape, torture, sensory deprivation Full tags on AO3 - MDNI - Read at your own risk.
You are a new recruit to the CIA, and Kate Laswell sends you to some remote blacksite for your interrogation training. Your temporary commander, Captain John Price, gives you a safeword, but as your training begins, you realize that you feel everything except for safe. 
Hey, did you see where the tags said RAPE? Okay, just making sure.
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It was three flights and a cab. It was airport food and cold coffee. It was forgetting whether the date ended in a three or a four. It was paperwork and passports and finally a cold office. It was a long trip, and you were running on empty. 
“What are your expectations, here, Katie? I don’t wanna do another Warsaw situ–” The man complained.
“This is nothing like Warsaw. She can handle it. Trust me.” Your boss replied, her voice crackling over the video call.
The man who complained squared his jaw and fixed his eyes on you again, looking at you fresh now that your handler, Kate Laswell, had vouched for you. You tried not to fidget in your seat. You didn’t sit up any straighter. You weren’t here to advertise yourself as the bravest or the toughest of anything. You knew you still needed a lot of training, and if he wanted to draw his own conclusions about you, then that was his business, not yours. 
“Her scores are high. She beat your exam?” 
“She did. Her field test and her ‘chute certifications were performed at a DF site here in the states.”
There was a long pause before Laswell spoke again,
“Do me this favor and maybe I’ll even let you borrow her for a recon mission or two. I know none of your boys are pretty enough to pass for party girls, but mine is.”
“That she is,” you heard his tone darken, thickening in his mouth like sticky sap from a tree, borderline inappropriate. When he saw your reaction to his comment, he turned back to the screen and said, “Alright, Katie. You got a deal. I’ll send her back once she’s out of recovery.”
“Thanks, John. Don’t go easy on her, or she’ll make you pay for it.”
“Is that so?” His wry smile sent a jolt somewhere in your belly that you didn’t appreciate.
She laughed and hung up the call. You waited, trying not to let the jitters or the exhaustion win out, battling both but feeling pulled in either direction just the same. 
“So,” he turned his attention to you at last, “Did you lay in your fuckin’ pink princess bed when you were a little girl and dream about becoming a bloody spy, or is this some sort of complex I should know about?”
You shrugged, 
“A man does what he must…”
“Careful, girl. Quoting Kennedy can’t be good for your health if you’re working in Katie’s office, hm?”
“You don’t need to know why I’m here, sir.” You used his title like a knife, flashing it right in front of his eyes and watching them ignite with his smoldering, quiet fury.
“No, but I bet I’ll find out during our time together,” he promised, making your heart clench with stress and anxiety, “What’s your safeword?”
“Red.”
“Red,” he repeated it to you as if he wanted to see how it felt in his mouth. Then, after a long pause, he explained, “I will also stop before the point of emergent damage. But, I will push you past the point of pain. You will sustain injuries. Do you understand what I’m saying to you, love?”
He seemed to be under the misconception that this was your first rodeo. You knew what you had come here for, and it wasn’t some drill sergeant to yell you into shape. You had already been through Delta Force’s operator training center - the parts they allowed CIA operatives through, anyway - and you’d surpassed what Williamsburg had to offer. You were aiming to serve as a Special Skills operative, the blackest of the black ops groups, and although you lacked the physical strength to be of any use in most field positions, you had one key factor that your fellow recruits didn’t have.
Men never expected a woman to be a threat. 
Laswell had plans for you. She’d tracked down two high value targets, but they were well-guarded. However, there were usually strippers and dancers and prostitutes as far as the eye could see, always partying and coming and going at all hours of the night. You were her way in. But, it was your job to get back out. If you could survive, you’d be a hero. If you didn’t, well, she had more pawns on the board. Not to mention, you had a mission of your own to complete..
So, you worked harder than anyone. You jumped at every field training exercise, you took martial arts classes in every different format you could find, and you lived at the shooting range. You didn’t have a social life. Usually, if you were alone in a room with a man, your fists were connecting with each other’s faces. 
You looked back across the wooden desk in front of you, over his nameplate - Captain Price - and into his startlingly blue eyes,
“I understand.”
He came out of his chair like a fucking demon, lunging for you without warning. As you stumbled backward, wielding your own chair over your shoulder, you sighed inwardly. You’d at least expected a more civilized initiation, maybe even a moment for a coffee, before he started in on his training. But, alas, that was not to be. 
You crashed the wooden chair against his head, neck, and shoulder as he rounded the desk, keeping hold of the broken armrest as a weapon. You stabbed downward, aiming for his throat and not holding back. He blocked you, cracking your wrist against the rigid wood. You stepped into his space, kicking his heel out from under him and following him to the floor. His head hit the concrete with a bang, and you used that moment to pin the armrest against his throat, bearing down on him with all your weight, dislodging his trachea enough to cut his air supply. 
He flung you off of him like a ragdoll, and your back slammed into the leg of the desk. You twisted underneath it, staying just out of his reach, small enough to fit through the gap. He scrambled up on all fours, cackling at you with a gravelly, menacing laugh before leaping up and over the desk to pull you out by your ankles. 
You kicked up and over, making contact with his nose, and when he dropped your other foot, you launched your heel into his balls, making sure to aim as deeply as you could. 
He coughed, and it was your turn to laugh. 
Your victory was short-lived. He launched his body at you, shoving your back down on the desk. You felt the familiar bite of his nameplate digging into your skull, so you dragged it out and swung it at him, cutting him across his cheek. He hissed, yanking it out of your hand and tossing it to the ground. 
The captain forced himself between your legs, pressing his body down on yours, and wrapped his hand across your throat. You fought like hell to get him off, twisting his pinky until you thought it might break, but he caught your wrists in his other hand, holding them at a terrible angle, choking you until you saw rainbow spots discolor your vision. 
“Well,” he said, breathless and bleeding, “Christmas came early, dinn’it?”
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Just making sure you read the tag that said this fic has RAPE IN IT. I'm just checking in again. Just want you to know. Okay, thanks.
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When you woke up, you weren’t completely sure of it, at first. It was as if you were still asleep. You opened your eyes, but all you saw was an endless blackness. You couldn’t hear anything, you couldn’t smell anything, and you couldn’t move your jaw. But you could feel everything. 
Your whole body screamed in pain. One of your hands was wrenched above your head, and the weight of your body hung from your broken wrist, making you cry out in whatever muffled way you could.
Then, something was removed from your ears, and you could hear again. It was still quiet, but the sound of the aircon and the noise of another person’s breath were like blaring sirens compared to the silence you had been steeped in. 
“Look who’s awake,” John’s purr of a voice washed over you. 
You tried to reply, tried to beg for him to cut you down, but you couldn’t speak. Your mouth was holding something round and pliant. 
“Ah, ah, ah,” he patted your flank, and you were suddenly aware of your nakedness. He’d taken your clothes? You could hear him scooting a metal chair across the room towards you, and his pants rustled as he sat down, “Can’t have you talkin’ your way out of this one. Based on the three stitches in my cheek, I was wrong to underestimate you, darlin’. Shoulda listened to Katie, this time. But, look at you. Just a whisper of a thing.”
His rolling chuckle made your bones itch. 
“Hard to use a safeword when you’ve got a gag on, yeah?”
You nodded, acknowledging the irony. 
Price moved in the chair again. No, he stood. You could hear his boots sliding around you in a half-circle. He kept talking to you, his tone as casual as ever,
“Yeah, thought so. But, this isn’t one of those trainings, pretty girl. You won’t be needing one. I will stop when you’re ready to stop, not when you want to stop. You need to learn that, sometimes, your body…” His hand snaked its way around your thigh and you tried to kick out at him, discovering your ankles were tied together and anchored to the floor, “... is capable of so much more than you give it credit for.”
Your heart began to slam against your chest, and your breathing became labored. You were having a panic attack. If you could only see…
“Hey,” his tone shifted, becoming the instructor again, “Breathe slowly. In. Hold it. Out. All the way. In. Out. Tha’s it. Good.” 
There was a long pause. You could smell him now. It was cigars and fire and gunpowder and smoke. It filled your senses, replacing your sight with scent. 
“I’m gonna put your ears back on, and we’ll see what you can do.” 
The world fell away again, and all you had was the smell of him. Then, he started his training. 
It wasn’t the pain that upset you, not really. Pain was something you could move past. It was the surprise. You never knew when it was coming, nor where he was going to hit you next. Sometimes it was his fist. Sometimes it was a belt. Sometimes it was an electric shock. Legs, ribs, foot, arm, neck, belly… there was no pattern. 
You also had no idea of the passage of time. You were infinite and you existed in the darkness of infinity. It was just pain forever with no reprieve. 
Until it wasn’t.
The first time you felt his fingers pinching the tender peaks of your breasts, your whole body jolted. You hadn’t really responded to the pain in the same way, but to pleasure? It was unexpected in a different way. You didn’t think he would violate you. That wasn’t even something they’d tried to do when you were with the DF. 
You bucked, hoping that your displeasure was noted for the record. 
But, perhaps, your mind teased you, the lady doth protest too much? You had wanted him to touch you when he’d picked you up from the airport. When he shook your hand, hadn’t you measured his fingers and started wanting? Weren’t you eager for training to be over so you could be invited back to his flat for the after-work romp you knew would be on offer?
Hanging there like a slab of meat had changed things a bit, but it had not quelled your desire, unfortunately.
You wondered if he had reacted. You imagined him laughing at you. Was he enjoying himself? Or was this all apart of his brand of training? 
I bet you choke out all the pretty girls… you sneered inwardly. 
More pain. This time, your ass cheeks were the targets. The snapping bite of what felt like a belt hit you repeatedly and without mercy. You found yourself breathless from silently screaming, your tongue pressing against the gag for some sort of relief and finding none. 
Then, pleasure again. His thick fingers fondled your pussy from behind, digging into your flesh and discovering the wetness hidden inside of your unused hole. There was no romance to his movements, but forcing an orgasm from you did seem to be his goal. And fuck, you lamented, he was good at it. 
He doubled up, twisting two fingers deep inside of you, pounding them into your body all the way to the knuckle, fast and hard, dragging you towards the edge. Your legs began to tremble, and you knew your face must’ve looked a mess, because you were in total shock. 
It felt like he was going to vibrate you right out of your skin, and still he moved faster. He wrapped his other hand around your belly, holding you in place, and you thrashed against it, fighting the mounting urge to come. 
You were doing pretty well, you thought, given the conditions. Until…
His soft lips pressed themselves down onto your spine. It was just a chaste kiss, but it unfurled you like a ripcord. You exploded, your whole body convulsing in bliss, and although you were wearing a blindfold, you could see white streaks and stars dancing across your vision. You came alive. 
Price pulled out of you, and you felt the stream of slick drip down your legs. He’d forced you to squirt, something you thought was completely faked, only for pornos. But, there it was, proof of its reality smearing down your thighs and onto the concrete floor. 
Pain, again. 
The searing sting of a taser in the sensitive flesh of your belly. 
Fists and harsh palms. 
The bite of a chain. 
A sharp ache from a needle or a knife. 
His fist closing around your index finger and snapping it cleanly in two. 
You wanted to puke, but there was nothing to come up. Your belly bulged and hollowed, letting you gag and choke around nothing, going through the motions and yet giving you nothing to move. 
Then, pleasure. 
His hands were back on your pussy, finding your clit and teasing you until you jerked forward. But, his hand remained, insisting. And insisting. And insisting. 
You lost track of how many times you’d toppled over the edge of your orgasm. There were no borders, not anymore. Your pleasure was bleeding and smearing all around you in one great wave, blinding you to the starts and stops from coming and not. You were drowning in it. 
Just when you thought you might pass out, you felt the prod of his prick between your legs, entering you from behind. You couldn’t feel a condom. You tried to twist yourself away, rocking your hips to no avail. 
This was definitely not protocol.
Those lips returned to the same spot on your spine, and you melted onto him, covering him like hot wax, sealing your body onto his cock like a brass signet, letting him leave his mark on you. 
His hands found your breasts, squeezing them roughly, holding your body to him in a vicious embrace. 
Then, he dug around inside of your mouth and yanked out the gag. You felt yourself make a terrible noise, but you couldn’t hear the sound that came out. You knew he could, though, because when he heard you, his cock throbbed at your entrance, and it made him push forward, dipping into you even deeper. 
Wait… Captain Price. Please. Wait. Wait. 
You wondered if you were as loud as you tried to be. In fact, you wondered if he could hear you at all because he did not stop. If anything, he went onward with even more fervor. 
His mouth kissed its way across your back, and you could feel his stubble and the coarse hairs of his beard raking their way along your skin. His warm tongue leaving little wet stamps as it laved across you, tasting your sweat. 
The way his fat prick was stretching you out made you question if he was using himself or the armrest of the chair that you had tried to kill him with. You hissed from the ache, but he didn’t halt his advance. Didn’t retreat. He just pressed further inside of you. 
How much cock did this jerk have?
Finally, you felt his hairy base tickle the skin under your ass cheeks, and you knew there was an end to his incredible length. 
What… why are you doing this? Why…
He pulled himself out in the same way he had pressed in, slowly and with a fierce persistence. 
Then, he began to pound himself into you.
You were at the perfect height for him, and it made you sick to your stomach to know that it was deliberate. This had been his plan all along. And although most of you felt completely indignant, there was a nasty little demon in your heart that celebrated in it. He’d wanted you from the start, even after you’d made him bleed, maybe even because of it. 
And that thought brought you no small amount of joy. 
His hands had returned to your breasts, playing with them too roughly. John was pinching your nipples and craning his neck around to suckle from them, nipping at them with his teeth until you screamed from the pain of being bitten. Even then, your screams were a poor deterrent. It didn’t stop him from returning to them, crushing the stiff tips as he worked his cock inside of you, fucking himself up into you at a punishing pace. 
He only pulled away to stick his tongue inside of your armpit, licking you over and over in a place where no one had ever even thought to lick, and you wished you could say, honestly, that it had disgusted you. But, it didn’t. If anything, it made you gasp with a new brand of pleasure. He had awakened something fresh and bright in you that you never meant to discover. 
Then, he got brave. He shoved two fingers right into your slack mouth, and you immediately bit down, hard. You could taste blood, and you fought against his flesh, trying to crack the bone. But, he shoved them down your throat, and all you had to chew on was a fat fist that wouldn’t even allow your jaw to close much less to bite. 
You could feel his fingers in your throat, deep down in a place where fingers were never supposed to go, and all you could do was swallow around them, trying your best to keep from drooling into your airway. 
His cheek pressed into your shoulder blade. He was enjoying you. 
The way his gentle kiss or the softness of his cheek ripped orgasms from you was concerning, to say the least. You hoped you could remember this moment, of how the way he rested himself against you as he was taking you against your vocal will was throwing your body down a deep well of dark, forbidden pleasure. How your vision burned white and gold and formed spots of colors that had no names as he fucked you into a different plane of existence. How you thought, if you got a late night text, written in his smoky, raspy Scouse accent, you would crawl your way back across the pond just so he could give it to you again. 
Oh, my God… You screamed from the pit of your belly. 
His thrusts never slowed. He was like a machine. All those muscles were being put to work, and you were the mission. 
Had it been hours?
Days?
Did the world still exist outside of this concrete cube that you suspected you were in?
Would you starve to death in here?
The demon that apparently lived in your cunt rolled its eyes and said, who cares? I wanna come again and again and again…
And you did. You were so overstimulated that you thought even someone looking at you the right way would make you come. It had become painful, at one point, and now you were not numb… Numb wasn’t the right word. You were soft. Your mind and your pussy were just murky, oily, cock-filled vessels, happy they were full and unwilling to question what it meant. 
When he finally pulled out of you, you were limp. You didn’t thrash or fight. You couldn’t, even if you wanted to. 
You felt his fingers again, drawing out your foaming, frothy come into his hand. He used it to smear it along the rim of your asshole. Then, he began to fuck your tight hole with his fingers, one. Over and over. One. One. One. Then, he added a second. Two. Two. A thousand times, two. Three was a bit of a challenge, but he pushed through. Three. Two. Three. Two. Three. Three. Three. And then, none. 
None. 
None. 
Where did he go?
Pain. A heavy hand slapping across your bruised tits. Again. Again. 
You were screaming, surely. You wanted to be, at least. 
The flat of his palm beat itself against your breast over and over without mercy. 
Then, his cockhead rested at the entrance of your asshole. 
You didn’t beg this time. If anything, he should be the one begging, you thought. If you lived, you were going to make him remember you. 
Price shoved himself inside of you with some force, but you took it. You waited until he was fully sheathed inside, and when he took a breath, when those lips rested themselves on the back of your neck, you beared down on him, hard. 
You felt his breath catch as it skittered across your skin. 
The demon in you chuckled in triumph. 
C’mon, Captain. Is that all you got? You made the words come out of your throat, and you hoped he could hear you. 
The way that his hand fisted itself in your hair told you that he had. 
If you thought he had fucked your pussy like an animal, you had been mistaken. He took your ass like he owned it. Like it was his toy. There was no pleasure-seeking rhythm, no careful pacing or grinding movements. He was fucking you because he wanted to come. So, you made him. 
Every time he dragged himself out, you let him go, but every time he pressed himself in, you fought him the whole way. Squeezing and pushing, squeezing and pushing, making your tight hole even tighter, rocking your hips to drive him mad with want. 
You felt him lose control, his hot spend filling your ass and bursting out of his swollen head, soaking your hole. You pulsed around him, and you felt that soft cheek return to your shoulder. 
Come for me, baby. Good boy. You giggled out loud. 
He slapped you across the mouth, and you laughed harder, feeling his cock slip out of you, spent. 
You can’t hurt me in a way that matters, John Price. Do your fuckin’ worst.
You felt him step around you, smelling his breath as he held you face to face. Then, the noise of the room came back and you could hear him panting, ragged and desperate. You felt the blindfold fall away and you could see him, your eyes shrinking in the dim light of the cell, hurt by even the smallest glow of light. 
You were back, but you were not yourself. Not anymore. You were a different you. Someone he had made. He had crafted you with his own hands. 
“Why? Why didn’t you beg me to stop?”
His eyes were burning into yours as he stared down at you, questioning what he had done, what you had done with him. You had used him like a sharpener, honing yourself to a high shine, and he didn’t understand. 
When you heard your voice for the first time, you mourned it a bit, but you knew it would come back eventually. It was raspy, muddled, and barely audible, but you said it with your whole chest,
“I was made for this, and I could go all fuckin’ day.”
“How long?”
“What?”
“How long did he keep you prisoner?”
Kate Laswell, you fucking bitch. 
He’d read your file. The real one. Not the one on your tagline, but the one that you and Laswell had hidden away. 
“Five months,” you told him, a sick smile on your face, “But, you already knew that.”  
He sighed, his hands on his hips, just as naked as you, which you found a little funny. 
“Why’d you come here? Why would she…” 
You watched him wrestle with the betrayal in his head, knowing he’d been manipulated. He’d walked right into her trap. You basked in his confusion, having almost as much fun as you’d had while he was railing you into oblivion. 
“Laswell said you needed a way into the Ikon, some strip club on the border between Russia and Urzikstan. So, I said I would help.”
“And she knew I’d say no…”
“Unless you knew I could handle it.”
It was his turn to be in pain. You could see the fire of it creeping through his belly, knowing he’d just tortured a girl who’d written the book in torture. The surgeries and the psych consults were long, long behind you, but your run in with the Russian mob was not something you were ever going to forget. But, now, John Price was going to give you a chance at revenge. You were his gun, and you just needed him to point you in the right direction. 
Suddenly, he cut you down, freeing you from your hanging place. You crumpled into his arms, letting him hold you as you collapsed. You used your hands to pet the worry out of his eyes, and he fought you for it, trying to stop you from comforting him. So, you grabbed him with what little strength you could muster, and you pulled his face to yours, pressing your mouths together, making him taste your blood from where he had cut your cheek against your teeth. He yanked his head back, furrowing his brow,
“No, stop…”
“Shut up,” you said, kissing him again and feeling his surrender as he held you tighter, pulling you into his chest even though he was ridden with guilt. 
“We shouldn’t, love. I’m so sor–”
“Where’d you put that gag?” You pretended to look around for it, earning a slight smile and an exasperated huff.
You knew you’d made the cut, because when he fucked you this time, he didn’t hold back.
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Whelp. Kinktober!
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mothmanssweetsucculentass · 3 months ago
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ZZZ Headcanons
Help this game has taken over my free time I love these characters sm <3 Billy Soukaku and Ellen my beloved
Nicole: has a not so secret hobby of bedazzling anything and everything. It’s a real problem in the Cunning Hares apartment, nothing is safe from pink rhinestones and stickers
Anby: cracked at rhythm games to an alarming degree. Can do a 2 person extremely hard DDR song all by herself
Billy: I don’t know how they did it but they programmed an android with autism. Has his own version of a skincare routine which is basically just maintenance on all of his tiny mechanical parts. Can also gain power multiple ways, including solar power. The apartment complex where the Cunning Hares live had a blackout once and everyone used Billy as a personal charging port. Nicole promised to pay him in Starlight Knight merch.
Nekomata: cuts her own hair and offers to do it for other people. DO NOT trust her when she says she’s good at it
Grace: did gymnastics as a kid which is why she’s able to pull off a ton of backflips and flexible maneuvers in battle
Anton: uses actual cement to keep his hair spikes in shape. Koleda caught him in the act once and instead of chewing him out, she decided to apply some to her own hair and now they’re cement combover gang
Ben: is completely vegan and loves chilling at hot springs a lot. Still sleeps with stuffed animals btw
Koleda: I’m making it canon right now Koleda is trans and you can’t do shit about it. Also has welding as a hobby and made most of her accessories from scratch
Corin: when not in Victoria Housekeeping Co uniform, is a Jfashion junkie. I’m talking super dedicated Lolita fits, menhera inspired clothing, the whole shebang. She ofc designs a lot of her own stuff like her bear backpack and is also responsible for a lot of the accessories Victoria Housekeeping Co wears (Rina’s bows, Ellen’s shark jaw head and neckpieces, Lycaon’s eyepatch and tail straps). She also has a massive crush on Ellen and is too scared to admit it
Rina: has a fur allergy and can’t keep animals around. Which also means she’s allergic to Lycaon. She has to take so much Zyrtec before clocking in but has such a good poker face that Lycaon has no idea. Ellen knows tho
Lycaon: specifically wears the heeled boots and has his odd posture because he’s self conscious about his digitigrade legs, he thinks they’re unsightly for a butler of his standing to have. He also tries to encourage Ellen to wear a long maid dress like Rina does to hide her tail.
Ellen: coincidentally falls into a lot of shark stereotypes. She loves seafood, has to constantly be fidgeting or she feels like she’ll go mad, and the kicker, she gets frenzied around blood, or if the thing she’s fighting puts up a struggle. Corin accidentally cut her hand while repairing her saw blade once and both Lycaon and Rina could barely hold Ellen back once Corin began bleeding. Ellen feels awful for scaring the already timid girl. Corin secretly thought it was hot and would die on the spot if anyone knew that
Soukaku: despite being a huge foodie this girl cannot cook for shit. Is also physically cold to the touch and during the summer her coworkers will ask her to hold their drinks because they’ll stay cold. Soukaku always secretly sneaks sips every time they do this to her.
Miyabi: has the worst sleep schedule known to man. Sometimes you’ll find her awake at 3AM and conked out by 4PM, other times she goes to bed at 8PM and wakes up at 4AM. It’s inconsistent and irregular and a gamble trying to contact her outside of work because she might not even be awake
Harumasa: GAY GAY HOMOSEXUAL GAY. Also pretty cracked at chess and other strategy games. Is also a major old fashioned guy and doesn’t own a lot of modern technology. He’s not into retro or old stuff, he just doesn’t like new stuff
Yanagi: her glasses are fake. When she was younger she needed them, but her vision had naturally gotten better over the years, so she now wears contacts, but for some reason still insists on wearing her glasses. Loses them constantly during battle.
Lucy: even though she was forced to play piano as a kid, she really wanted to be a sporty girl and play stuff like soccer and baseball. Now she has the freedom to take part in the sports she likes and watch them surrounded by the people she likes
Piper: insanely picky eater to the point it drives Lucy up a wall. Is also picky about a lot of other things, like how different fabrics feel, different comfort levels of chairs and beds, girl is a complainer and will always find something to complain about
Lighter: has a side gig as a tattoo artist, has really stable hands too
Soldier 11: has 5 younger brothers, a younger sister, and 2 older siblings who she doesn’t see super often. Has divorced parents who also liked to adopt, which is why she has such a huge family. Her younger brothers love it when she comes home and plays secret agent military with them
Seth: can’t drive. That’s it send tweet.
Qingyi: is outwardly dismissive of meditation tricks and hacks and tips but utilizes that shit in private ALL the time.
Zhu Yuan: shares the vegetables she grows in her garden with all her neighbors. Is also a REALLY good cook to the point people have encouraged her to potentially consider a different career path
Jane Doe: the rat girl has pet rats go figure. But in all seriousness she’d die for her little guys. She has a white one named Cocaine and a brown one named Tobacco and a gray one named Crystal Meth. She thinks the names are hilarious and every time she introduces the rats to other people their facial expressions are priceless
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frenchkisstheabyss · 11 months ago
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✦ love poem ✦
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✦ Pairing: dad!choi san x pregnant!chubby!fem!reader w/ appearances by ot8
✦ Genre: fluff/light angst
✦ Summary: Being pregnant during the holidays has been hectic. Especially for your fiance San whose tight work schedule has him under pressure. But when his best friend Hwa steps in to ease the burden on him by being there for you, it creates more jealousy than Christmas cheer.
✦ Word Count: 3.5k-ish
✦ Warnings: pregnant reader, occasionally strong language, some quick lusting after San while he's in the shower (nothing graphic), & that's all.
✦ A/N: I really wanted to write something sweet with like the tiniest bit of angst so there's nothing heavy here. It's mostly just lovey dovey shit cause, I mean, I'm a lover girl. What can I say?
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Standing at the entrance of the tunnel of lights, you watch in awe as thousands of tiny bulbs twinkle to the tune of the Christmas music that coasts along the night air. Every year the local zoo holds a massive festival of lights to celebrate the holiday season. During your first year here San had plans to take you to opening night but, with his schedule being as unpredictable as it is, that never did happen. This year though, he promised that nothing would stop you from experiencing this together and he meant it.
As much as San and the rest of the boys hyped this place up to you, nothing could’ve prepared you for how breathtaking it is in person. It’s magical. The carnival rides, the little Christmas themed games, the stalls selling some of the best food you ever tasted. And the displays. They’re pure art. It may be too cold for the animals to be out but the elaborate light sculptures of them make up for it tenfold. Children race through the light tunnels while couples cuddle up in line for hot cocoa. If ever “Winter Wonderland” were a place this would have to be it.
“Stop running!” Hongjoong yells from behind you. Seconds later Mingi and Jongho dart past you in a blur. You turn in time to see the look of defeat on Hongjoong’s face as he approaches with the others close behind. “I swear sometimes they act like children,” he groans, “Take it from me. Don’t have kids. It’s not worth it.” Popping on a pair of knit gloves, Yunho gestures towards the pregnant belly rounding out your thick winter coat. “I think that advice is about 7 months too late.”
Hongjoong gasps in horror, “Oh. I mean, you know, except that one. I’m sure it’ll be a cute little thing.” You can only giggle at how flustered any mention of your pregnancy gets him. Hongjoong hasn’t quite grasped that San’s about to be someone’s dad. Even as your belly has grown, he’s managed to periodically forget what’s happening but he’s trying to be supportive and it’s sweet. Seonghwa pats you softly on the belly, laying his head on your shoulder, “Pay him no mind. She’ll be a cute little baby. Not a thing. I mean, look at her mom”
"Oh, Hwa, you’re too sweet” you blush, patting him on the cheek. “The baby! I think it kicked!” He’s right. You felt it. It’s about that time of night after all. The moment she could start kicking she did. Especially around bedtime. Suddenly they’re all gathered close around you staring at your stomach as if the baby will burst out at this very moment like some alien spawn. Woo kneels down in front of you, resting his hand behind Hwa’s. “Aah!” he squeals, “She’s saying hi to her uncles. Hi, baby!”
By now Mingi and Jongho have circled back, stopping dead in their tracks to see what all the fuss is about. “What’s going on?” Jongho asks, Mingi’s hat clenched in his hand. Mingi snatches his hat back, peering over Jongho’s shoulder, “It’s not happening is it?” Seeing the panic in his eyes, you immediately jump to calm him down, “Not yet. She’s kicking up a fuss. That’s all.” “So much like her dad already” Yeosang teases, just as San appears to push them aside. “Hands off!” he orders, shooing them away, “I go to the bathroom for two seconds and you’re already crowding my kid.”
The others just laugh, not expecting to witness such a perfect example of Yeosang’s statement so soon. “You okay? Everything okay?” he asks, fixing the scarf around your next and popping your hood over your head. “Baby, it’s not that cold.” “Temperature’s supposed to drop 5 degrees in the next half hour. Gotta stay toasty, honey.” San’s always been attentive, doing everything he could to make sure you were taken care of but the pregnancy has kicked it into overdrive.
Taking his hands, you give him a warm peck on the lips and flash a smile that soothes his worries. “I’m okay, Sannie. I promise. Now let’s go.” The tunnel’s far more mesmerizing from the inside than it is simply looking in. It feels like a portal to a different world, replacing the darkness of the night sky with constellations of red and green that guide you to the next section of the zoo. Each area has one unique to the space you’re about to step into.
A tunnel of mistletoe and vines for the flower garden. One built like a giant sleigh for the reindeer village. And that’s not even half of it. How anyone can make it through this place in one night is beyond you. Then again, not everyone is toting another human around in their belly. By the time you make it through the ice tunnel into the replica North Pole, your feet are killing you but you try to hold it together.
Between doctor’s appointments, work, redecorating the apartment, and a million other things that need to be done before the baby arrives, there’s been zero time to do anything fun. Calling it quits this early feels wrong. Especially since San's been so stressed lately. Spending time with the guys seems to be just the thing he needed to shake some of that off.
“How many more lights do we have to see before we’ve seen enough?” Mingi whines, dragging his feet. Alright, so maybe someone else is as over it as you are. Yunho slaps Mingi on the back, taking a deep breath, “Have some holiday cheer! We’re in such a beautiful place. Where else would you rather be?” “Somewhere warm! With food!” Woo adds, backing Mingi up. Jongho jumps it, never one to miss the opportunity, “And drinks! When’s the last time we all had drinks together?”
Hongjoong crosses his arms, throwing them some wicked side eye, until he realizes, “Actually it has been a while since we went out for drinks.” Woo wraps his arms around Yeosang, determined to rope him into this plan, “You in? Say yes. Say yes!” “Yeah, sure fine, whatever” Yeosang laughs, shrugging him off. Hwa clears his throat, preparing to be the bearer of bad news, “Well it’s not just us you guys. There’s kinda a 10th person here now.”
For a fleeting moment, you were able to detect some excitement on San’s face and Hwa’s words wipe it away in an instant. Everyone falls silent, not quite sure what to do with the awkwardness of the moment. “Hey,” you say, lovingly rubbing San’s chest, “Why don’t you go get those drinks?” “What? No. I’m not leaving you. We said we’d do this.” “We did and I’ve had the best time but, honestly, my feet hurt like shit.” “Then I’ll take you home and run some water so you can soak your feet” San insists, guiding you out of the way of an approaching crowd.
“San, please, for the love of god, go” you beg, looking to his friends for support. “I’ll take her home!” Hwa volunteers, “I’m not really up for drinking anyway.” San glares skeptically back and forth between the two of you. He wants to protest but he gets the sense that arguing with you is a losing battle and he’s right. “Fine” he relents, “But text me when you get home. Love you.” The way you light up when he finally gives in is one of the infinite reasons why he loves you the way that he does. “I will. Love you too.” “Love you three!” “Love you four!” you say, kissing him before Jongho begins to drag him in the other direction. “We’re not doing this all night! Let’s go!”
Parting ways is a sea of goodbyes and bickering that continues until you lose sight of the rest of the group. Hooking his arm into yours, Hwa directs you towards a festive snack stand not too far away. “Wanna eat like trash before we go home?” he offers with a mischievous grin, knowing San would murder him if he knew. You nod, playfully tearing up, “I thought you’d never ask.” 
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“Baby, have you seen my keys?” you shout from the bedroom, digging through your purse for the third time. “Huh?” San calls back, the water rushing from the shower making it impossible to hear you. Shuffling down the hall, you pop your head into the bathroom. “I was asking if you’d seen my keys.” San peeks from behind the shower curtain, shampoo bubbles dripping down his sculpted cheekbones. In an instant, you forget all about your keys. What else could possibly matter when San’s standing here dripping wet, every muscle in his defined chest glistening like gold. Snap out of it. This is how you got pregnant in the first place. 
“I saw them by the stove I think.” “Thanks, ya cutie” you wink, ready to skip off to find them. “Wait,” he says before you can make it more than a step and a half away, “You’re all dressed up. Where are you going?” Scanning your outfit, you don’t see anything particularly “dressed up” about what you’re wearing. Some knit overalls with a cozy sweater underneath and your favorite boots are far from red carpet ready in your mind. “Hwa’s taking me shopping for decorations. Don’t you remember?” San frowns, only vaguely remembering the conversation, “Why didn’t you ask me?” “I did but you said you were busy today so Hwa offered to take me.” 
Your phone dings in your pocket. You fish it out and find a text message from Hwa telling you he’s outside. “Ooh, speak of the devil. Gotta run.” Carefully, you make your way across the bathroom floor, giving him a kiss that you struggle to keep innocent with the knowledge of what’s behind the curtain. “Have fun and tell Joong I said hi! I’ll bring you back something!” you sing and you’re off to find your keys. San’s frozen in place, unable to bring himself to move an inch. Even after he’s heard the apartment door close, it takes him a second to get back to his shower.
It’s been two weeks since the light festival and you’ve seen Hwa every few days since. Every time San’s too busy to do something Hwa’s right there to help. When did he become so available? You always come home so happy too. Were you that happy with him? Letting the water wash over his head, he tries to shake away his jealous thoughts.
You moved here to be with him and, in that time, the only friends you’d made were his. Hwa’s just being a good friend to the both of you, helping when San’s unable to. Thinking that it's anything else is ridiculous. All of the long hours spent working must be getting to him. Hwa would never...
You would never...
Neither of you would...
Right? Right? 
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Pregnancy hormones. They’re the one thing no one can ever quite prepare you for. One minute you’re hanging ornaments on the tree, humming along to your music in a cozy pair of pajamas. The next you’re crying on the kitchen floor, stuffing your mouth with the cookies you baked for the holiday party tomorrow.
It’s nearly midnight and everything makes you emotional. The lights on the tree are too bright, your feet feel swollen, the cookies aren’t as sweet as you'd like, and suddenly you can’t stand the song that’s playing despite it being one of your favorites. You want everything off but then the house would be quiet and empty. You’d be reminded that you’re all alone until San comes home tomorrow and cry even harder.
You pull out your phone to call him but when you see the time you decide not to. His flight is in a few hours and he’s already told you what a long day he had. You’d hate to wake him up, to burden him any more than you feel you already have.  Just as you’re about to put your phone down it lights up. A text from Seonghwa. Some adorable video of a cat dressed up as one of Santa’s elves.
The poor thing looks miserable running around in that costume but it makes you laugh enough to stop you from spiraling. Taking a deep breath, you wipe away the tears blurring your vision and shoot a text back. 
You: Thanks. I really needed that.
Hwa: Why? Something wrong?
You: I’m having a crying thing. Kinda sad tonight.
Hwa: Need some company?
Without thinking, you type out the words “You don’t have to—” before erasing them and typing out something new. "Sure!"
It takes him no time at all to reach you. The streets are empty this time of night and he only lives a half hour away. Even if he lived two hours away—three hours away—he’d drive every single one of them to come support you. When you became someone special to San, you became someone special to him too. He’s never seen San more serious about anything than he's been about you and this baby. As much as he wishes that San would get out of his head a bit more, it’s cute to see him love something so much. 
“Anybody home?” Hwa whispers, his eyes narrowing when he notices that your front door is cracked. “Come in” you sob from the couch, blowing your nose for what feels like the 1000th time since you sent that last text. Hwa follows a trail of discarded tissues to find you curled up on the couch, as curled as you can be this far along in your pregnancy. “Hey, hey, don’t cry” he coos, easing himself down onto the couch and resting your head in his lap, “Talk to me. What’s going on?”
You try to speak but you’re too short of breath to get anything out. Hwa strokes your hair, taking slow breaths in and out, “Follow me, okay? In and out.” You shake your head in protest. The whole room is closing in around you. You can’t do it. “Just try it. For me. Please” he begs so sweetly that you can’t refuse. Deep breath in, long breath out. The same way that they taught you in those birthing classes you went to. “This is total bullshit” you’d whispered to San at one point during the class but it turns out it isn’t bullshit at all. 
After a few seconds, the tightness in your chest eases and the room begins to open up. The world isn’t falling apart anymore. You’re safe. Hwa sits with you in silence as your breathing quiets, dabbing away any rogue tears that drip down your cheeks. “Is San happy with me?” you ask, catching him off guard, “Is this too much for him, do you think?” Hwa laughs, knowing how extremely far from the truth both of those questions are. “Hwa, it’s not funny! I’m serious!” “I’m sorry! I’m not trying to make fun of you, it’s just—if you make him happy or not, that’s not a question. He’s crazy about you.”
Grabbing the small blanket folded over the back of the couch, he opens it up and tucks you in with it. “None of this is too much,” he swears, “You and her…” Hwa pokes your belly, making you giggle. “You guys are everything he’s ever wanted. He pushes himself so much because he wants to be perfect for you.” You yawn, Hwa’s presence and the warm blanket activating the exhaustion you’ve been fighting. “But he’s already perfect to me. Why can’t he see that?” “Mmm, it’s really hard sometimes to see ourselves the way other people do but he’ll come around. I promise.”
If there’s one similarity you’ve come to find between San and Hwa it’s how important promises are to them. If Hwa says he’ll come around then he will. They’d been friends for ages before you came into the picture. They’ve gone through more together than you can imagine. If Hwa's confident about it, then you have to believe it too. You drift off to sleep, your brain still spinning but much quieter now, trusting that everything will be just fine.
Right? Right? 
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“Listen to yourself. You sound crazy!” Hwa snaps, trying his hardest not to raise his voice in the midst of his anger. San tosses his bags to the floor and they hit with a thud that shakes you from your sleep. “I come home to you cuddled up on the couch with her and I’m crazy?” “She texted me last night that she was crying. What was I supposed to do?” “Tell me! And let me take care of her! She’s not yours so stop treating her like she is!”
San’s jaw clenches, the jealousy he’s been harboring turning into true pain for the first time. He thought he had this under control. Those hours of talking with Woo about how stupid his suspicions were had chased off his insecurities. But coming in, tired and cranky from his flight, to see you so peacefully cuddled against Hwa had undone all of it. He wanted to kill him and the knowledge that he was the first one you reached for when you were hurting only adds fuel to the fire currently burning his self control to ash.
“Sannie?” you squeak, stretching out your cramped limbs, “What’s going on?” You sit up, eyes still squinted, to see what all of the fuss is about. Hwa hangs his head, unable to face you, “I think I should go. If you need me I’m here for both of you.” “Wait, no!” you say, doing your best to roll off of the couch and stop him but by the time you’re on your feet he’s gone. Turning your attention to San, you immediately sense his anger. Something happened and whatever it was has him fuming.
“Baby, what happened? You can talk to—” “Is there something going on between you two?” “What?” you laugh, placing your hands on your lower back for support. You keep laughing but the sharpness of his expression never changes. He’s actually waiting for an answer. “Oh god, you’re serious. You’re actually asking me if I’m fucking Seonghwa.” “I didn’t say that.” “But that’s what you’re saying. That’s what you think of me.”
You catch yourself wanting to cry again, only this time it isn’t because of the pregnancy hormones. It’s because you waited for days to see the man you love only to be accused of something like this. San can almost see the moment your heart breaks, making him regret his doubts in an instant. “He’s been helping me because I was worried about you burning yourself out. That’s it. I wouldn’t do that to you.” Your bottom lip quivers and the tears are rushing from your eyes again. “Fuck, I’m so tired of crying” you huff, flopping back down onto the couch. 
San’s at your side quicker than he’s ever been, his arms wrapped around you like he never wants to let go. “I’m sorry! Please don’t cry. I didn’t mean it. I know you’d never do that.” “Then why were you two arguing? Why even ask me?” “Because I’m afraid” he admits, leaving you both shocked at his admission. He’s scared, terrified, so much that it keeps him up at night. “I’m afraid I’m not good enough to be what you need me to be and it was easier to be jealous than to admit that.”
You’re frustrated enough that you could slap him but your body feels so at home in his embrace that you can’t pull away. “You’re good enough for me…for us, San. You have to believe me when I say that.” “Then why do you call him when you’re crying and not me?” “Because,” you sigh, “I’m afraid too. I don’t want to lean on you too much.” “What? Lean on me too much?” he asks, almost offended, “Lean on me all you want. What do you think I work out for?”
You giggle when you feel his muscles flex against you, “San, be serious!” “I am! Lean on me, please. We’re a team. I need you to trust me to be here.” You stare at him, your eyes beautiful enough to hypnotize him even when they’re clouded with tears. “You have to trust me to be here too, you know?” San kisses your forehead, one hand gently massaging your back, “I trust you, baby.” Closing your eyes a tingly feeling washes over you. Is it love? The Christmas spirit? The tingling is chased by a contraction stronger than any period cramp you’ve ever felt.
“The baby’s coming!” you shout, gripping your stomach. San jumps back in shock as if he didn’t know you were pregnant to begin with. “Are you sure?” “You said you trust me!” “I do! I do! Hold on!” Leaning you back on the couch, San darts around the apartment collecting all of the things he’s prepared over the last few months to make you comfortable when this happens. A bag packed with clothes for you and your favorite slippers. Phone chargers, baby wipes, stuffed animals, the snacks you love. The list is endless.
“I’ll pull the car up and come back for you, okay?” he says, propping your feet up on the coffee table as he tries to put your coat on. “Just get the car. I’m okay.” “You sure?” “I’m sure and San,” you say, grabbing his arm. “Yeah?” “You’re gonna be a great dad. The best ever.” San can’t fight the smile that spreads across his face or the slight reddening of his cheeks. You believe in him, you truly do, and for the first time, he does too.
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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 4 months ago
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Yandere Sibling Cat Hybrids: Patricia and Pepper
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Deciding to take on hybrids was something you were hesitant to do 
Besides being morally controversial for you, it was a huge hit to your spending money
But you got tired of the faux pride you got donating to hybrid-care facilities 
So instead you decide to walk into a shelter (one with good practices)
And you tell them upfront that you’re willing to open your home and heart to the ones who need you most
Crippled, rejected for looks, attitude problems
The helper lights up and then deflates before asking some leading questions
“Do you like cats?”
And that is how you are given Patricia and Pepper
This sister and brother duo are two sides of the same kind
Patricia has a luxuriously long tail and grooming routine that matches
“Are you illiterate? The signed packet told you I needed to be groomed, shampooed, and conditioned regularly.”
“Well yeah, that’s why I left everything in the bathroom.”
“Hold on! You think I’m doing this myself?! Nuh-Uh, You have so much to learn! Grab the brush and pull up a stool, now!”
Demanding as she is gorgeous Patricia is a cat girl with expensive tastes
Until that day she’ll likely swipe your credit card to buy the incredibly overpriced brand-powered shampoo 
And just curl her lip at you when you confront her
“Don’t cry, if you keep working hard I’m sure you’ll pay it off.”
For as unhelpful and arrogant as she is, her brother is an extreme opposite
“I know you showed us to those extra rooms just for us but i-if you don’t mind my stench I think I can serve you better in your room!”
“What?!”
“I’ll be happy to sleep on the floor! I promise I’ll be useful!”
Pepper’s always so eager to help and talk himself down
You’ll literally have to fight him to make sure he’s sleeping and taking care of himself instead of the home
“P–please I’ll probably eat once I finish cleaning this one last thing.”
“Probably?! No, you look like you’ve lost too much weight!”
“Nooo please!”
This dynamic will be going on for a long while 
You going to work and returning home to find either Pepper in danger needlessly risking his life 
Or Patricia throwing out all of your childhood memorabilia because she felt it was tacky
Maybe for once you shed a tear
Or you yell
Or you just completely shut down from any conversation 
In the end, you leave 
For a long time
Longer than you’d go to the store or even work
You’re just gone
“Pat I think you did it again. You scared them off!”
“I scared them off? Please I know very few people who’d be happy coming home to a corpse.”
“At least I was trying to be useful!”
“I took care of the grooming they didn’t do, that’s plenty generous.”
“Thanks to you, they’re sending us away! I really liked this one!”
“Don’t blame me, you cur! They’re leaving because you appall them!”
They argue for hours
Because they are siblings
And it helps with filling the sound of you going through your nightly routine
By the end of it, both of their hair are sticking out 
they’re pacing while nervously staring at the door
So many thoughts in their head 
The embarrassment of being sent back
The disappointment and scorn from the employees when they return
The pain they felt when you reacted the way you did
The suffocating fear of you leaving them forever
They’ve had absent owners…but they were always that way
You were there even if you sighed and scolded them, you were still there
You might’ve kept to yourself but you didn’t ignore them
At the end of the day, they still ate together with you
… They really didn’t like this
When the lock on the door clicks and the light clicking of a turn begins 
They’re leaping for the door
Capturing you in a hug you can’t escape from
“We missed you! I-I’m very sorry! I fished out and cleaned everything! Please forgive me! And please don’t just send me away! Oh and my brother too.”
“PLEASEDON’TSENDUSAWAYPLEASEDON’TPLEASEPLEASEIMIGHTBEPUSHEDTOSTRAPABOMBTOMYSELFANDBLOWINGUP—”
“Whoa whoa, I’m not sending you guys away. Also, Pepper what was that you were going to say?”
“WAAAAHHHH tHANK THAank YOu! WAHHH” 
After Pepper can breathe, you don’t mind sitting down with them to finally speak
“I’m glad you’re not sending us away. I was certain you found us annoying enough to.”
“Oh no I do find you two annoying.”
“What?! wwwwWAAHHHH!”
“But I’m not going to send you away because of that. Also, I think it’s pretty crummy that I can even do that after all the paperwork I signed.”
“WAHH! I’M ANNOYING!?”
“Yes, Pepper now shush. That’s very mature of you I also appreciate your honesty.”
 Ultimately they relax when it comes to being sent away
But they’re worried that you barely address your annoyance 
“Even my friends annoy me. It’s not that bad.”
“But it is. I–we pushed you so far…we’d like not to do this again.”
“I-I think…Pat and I just want to please you…maybe more than just what your morals allow.”
Thus a new routine has begun
One that won’t have you leaving for hours on end
“Good Evening dirt on my heels, who’s going to give me a gift big enough to buy that Prada collar I’ve been eying?”
Now Patricia streams finding a small group of people willing to fund her interests allowing her to contribute to the home 
Pepper continues to clean up the house but with new parameters
“Here (Y/n)! I took pictures of me eating all my meals today! See? Now can I get head pats?”
This works allowing them not to get on your nerves while you navigate life with your two hybrids
If they have any say in it that’ll be all you’ll be aware of
On the other side, Patricia and Pepper are taking their independence very seriously
“Pepper, did you finish your dossier on the coworker who called yesterday?”
“I did, here’s the file. I’ve already gone to the trouble of mapping out their routine; highlighting the best times depending on the method we use.”
“Good work. Now next report?”
“Yes! I found this while cuddling (Y/n) last night~ They got all giggly when I touched a specific spot with my tail.”
“...Last night where was I?”
“Dealing with the neighbor’s loud little pest.”
“Right…For equal treatment, I’ll be initiating our cuddle session tonight.’
“Hahaha…nice imagination Patty but that’s my job.”
Somehow fighting between the siblings still persist but you’d take that over the stalemate you two had before
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cameronspecial · 1 year ago
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I Will Love It, Rafe
Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings:  N/A
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 0.7K
Summary: Rafe wants to make their house a home for Y/N.
Masterlist
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Being married to Rafe is the most amazing stage of Y/N’s life. She didn’t think he could’ve gotten more loving and attentive, but he did. When they moved into their house in the Outer Banks, he did the whole carrying her across the threshold thing and his husbandly duties didn’t stop there. He helped in every possible way to bring their house together and create their home. He gave his input on the paint colour, couch swatches, what style of furniture he wanted and anything else she would ask him. Even going as far as buying a few decorations he sees in the store and thinks she would like. Every time he would meet her with the same adorable nervousness of her not liking it, which she would always reassure him she does like it. This house is really starting to feel like theirs. 
Rafe knows Y/N has been dreaming of a built-in bookshelf in the room that is going to be their office and Rafe is dying to make that happen for her. Sarah took Y/N out for the day under the pretense of showing his wife the island that is now her home. This allows him to work on his project for her. He enlisted the help of Sarah’s pogue friends because he knew he wasn’t the most masterful with his building. He isn’t their biggest fan, but he can put their differences aside for the sake of Y/N. 
“We just have to nail the last top face frame rail and then we are ready to paint,” Rafe confirms with the others. Pope nods, “Yeah. Although, she won’t be able to put anything on it until after twenty-four hours, so I don’t know if you want to wait to show her.” “I think I’m too anxious to wait. I need to know what she thinks right away. What if she doesn’t like it?” Rafe frets, not seeing that he is holding the wood up crooked. JJ hits the back of his head, “Snap out of it. You aren’t holding it straight.” Rafe fixes his hold on the wood so that JJ can nail it into place. John B is the one to reassure his, hopefully, far-future brother-in-law. “Don’t worry, Dude. You said that she’s been showing you pictures of these bookshelves, so you know what she wants. Plus, she’ll just be touched by the gesture even if it isn’t exactly what she wants,” John B promises, slapping the husband’s back. “Thanks,” Rafe whispers. 
———
The big reveal is quickly approaching and Rafe feels the sweat on his palms. He wipes it off on the towel in his hand. The front door opens and he swears as he realizes he won’t have enough time to get cleaned up. He runs to greet the girls and is met by a questioning look from his wife. She sets the bags in her hand down, “What’s with the paint?” “Uhh, I’ve been working on a project for you, but I’m not sure I want you to see it,” he confesses, walking over to pick up the bags and kiss her. She returns the kiss, “Why don’t you want me to see it?” “Because I don’t think you will like it. So I’m going to have to take it down and pay a professional to make a better one,” he explains. He pulls out his phone to call the pogues back to take down what they had built not even twenty minutes ago. 
Y/N takes his phone out of his hand and makes him look at her. “You don’t have to do that. Just show me what you did. I’m sure I will love it, Rafe,” she comforts him, placing her hand in his. He lets out a breath and takes her upstairs to their office. He opens the door to reveal the labour of his day. Her eyes set on the bookshelves and she lets out a squeal. Her arms wrap around his neck. She kisses him on the cheek, “Rafe, I love it. This is incredible. Thank you so much. You are really making this place our home.” He gives her a kiss of his own with a massive grin. “You’re welcome, Angel. I would do anything to make you feel comfortable. I want you to love this space as much as I love you.” 
Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia
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lookforsomeoneelse · 5 months ago
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sahsrau and the ways in which the game’s story changes pt. 1: Sigonia-IV
aventurine’s story made me sad. maybe this is my way of coping. got aventurine’s sister’s name from someone who talked about her on this app. also i’m making a lot of assumptions about how it went down, but there were roughly 10,000 avgins that were involved. also apparently the avgins are based on romani culture and I have no idea about that either soooooooooo cw for blood and severed limbs. and maybe gore. and definitely mentions of death. and probably my ignorance too.
Ecclesiastes 4:1-3
Again I looked and saw all the oppression that was taking place under the sun: I saw the tears of the oppressed-- and they have no comforter; power was on the side of their oppressors-- and they have no comforter. And I declared that the dead, who had already died, are happier than the living, who are still alive. But better than both is he who has not yet been, who has not seen the evil that is done under the sun.
Kezia knew she was going to die. It wasn’t the greatest way to go down at the hands of the bloodthirsty Katicans, but what was honorable about it was that she would meet her end in the rain.
“Kakavasha must have escaped by now,” she thought to herself, “and he will survive.” Kezia held faith in her brother and in the Mother Goddess, Gaiathra Triclops, the one whom she served.
It was now time for the festival- and so she tossed her Knot into the bonfire as a sort of goodbye to this cruel life she had lived in, and lamented on her brother’s fate- he will go through many hardships and sufferings, but she knows that the blessing of Fenge Biyos will remain with him all throughout his journey.
It was a shame she’ll never get to see him again.
She regrets not saying more before their departure.
She had heard that some of the other bastard clans had made a deal with the Interastral Peace Corporation- the people who had promised to protect them on this very day- to make sure that they were all wiped out.
She held her makeshift club in her shaky hands. She didn’t want to die. Not like this. She had wanted to get married and have a family of her own.
And, for the first time in her life, her faith cracked like a shattered mirror.
The Mother Goddess had always let her down-
When Dad fell into the quicksand,
When Mother was caught and slaughtered like an animal,
And now, while she was facing down death.
She remembers one of the workers that came during that first day- praising the Aeon of Guidance and all their works-
And so, under her breath, unsure of how to do it, she prayed for her safety, she prayed for her survival, and most of all, she prayed for the opportunity to see her dearest brother once again.
As the sky wept for the fate of her people, the Katicans arrived, howling laughter emerging from within the storm.
do not worry child
Finding the sudden strength within her, she let out a roar.
i shall be forever with you
Her club slammed into the skull of a Katican, pulverizing it into a bloody mess.
i shall give you strength
Another near her tried to avenge his fallen comrade, and she cratered their face, producing a sickening squelch.
and when you are trapped in the darkness
She didn’t count. How many had fallen at her hands? 100? 500? 1,000? 5,000? All she knew was that the sky wept blood.
i shall bring you into the light
All around her there were the corpses of Katicans, Not a drop of her blood was shed, and nothing to threaten her in her vicinity. She looked down at her hands. Red. Her hands were red, stained with the crimson of those who had tried to end her life.
Kezia wept tears of joy.
“The Avgin always return back their blood debts,” she had remembered saying to her little brother.
It looks like they had a new debt to pay.
(A/N: I have no idea what the hell I just made. I have no beta reader, so there’s that I guess. I don’t have a structure either. I just made stuff up and used the wiki for reference.)
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janeyseymour · 7 months ago
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Won't You Be... My Neighbor? -pt 2
Part 1.
Summary: Throughout the preparation for Melissa's court hearing, you find yourself falling for her.
WC: ~2.35k
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“You’re a lawyer?” Melissa looks at you as if you just told her you were actually born on Mars.
You nod confidently. “A damn good one too.”
“Then what the hell are you doing here in West Philly?”
You chuckle. “I grew up around here. Liked the area, never really cared to leave.”
“Wow,” she whispers out in amazement. “Would you really be able to help me? I’ll pay you of course.”
You roll your eyes. “Of course I can help you. And don’t worry about a payment. I’d be happy to help you out.”
“That’s ridiculous,” she states.
You wave a lazy hand in dismissal as you sip your wine. “No it ain’t. Just… cook me a couple meals, and we’ll call it even.”
That gets the redhead to laugh a little. “Yeah, I can do that.”
“Tell me a little about him,” you prompt.
So she does. The two of you chat long into the night, and it’s only when Melissa yawns for the fourth time that you smile at her, finish off what little remains in your glass, and stand. “I suppose I should let you get to bed. But let’s… reconvene soon?”
She nods sleepily. “I’ll see you soon, Y/N. And seriously, thank you.”
“Have a good night, Melissa.” You leave the apartment and head down the hall to your own.
As you crawl into bed that night, you think about everything that she had said to you. Genuinely, you feel terrible for the woman a few doors down. She seems to have put her heart and soul into that marriage, only for all of her hard work and care to go down the drain. And from what you can tell, she isn’t exactly swimming in money right now- especially taking on a new apartment and having a young child to care for on her own. But she’s doing everything she can right now to make it work, including working overtime at her school to tutor children who need extra help. Her ex-husband is making absolutely no contributions aside from the extra hell that he is giving her. You find yourself even more motivated to help your neighbor win her case against her husband and gain full custody of her son.
It’s a few days later when you run into Melissa again, and she seems just as frazzled as she was the first day you met her. JJ is on her hip crying again, pleading to not have to go to the grocery store.
You are just coming in from a rather long day at work, and while the last thing you want to do is look after a small child (one who will need lots of tender love and care to calm down), you make your way over to the pair.
“Hey,” you say softly as you adjust your briefcase slung around you.
Melissa runs a hand through her hair. “Hi.” She turns her attention back to her son. “Sweetheart, we have to get groceries for the week… but Momma promises she’ll be quick.”
“I don’t wanna!” the little boy screeches.
“Missed nap time at daycare,” the redhead whispers over his head. Then she presses her lips together in a fine line as she continues to bounce him on her hip. She tries to calm him with a few short hums, but JJ just continues to cry out.
You blow out a breath. “I can take him for a little while you go grocery shopping,” you offer softly.
Those green eyes meet yours immediately. “Oh, you don’t have to do that.”
“I don’t mind,” you say with a soft smile. “And it looks like you could use a break from kids for at least an hour.”
“Are you sure?” Melissa breathes out. “Because I can take him- he is my son.”
“I know he is,” you chuckle quietly. “But I also know that it’s okay to lean on someone to help you, and I told you I’m here for you.”
The teacher sighs softly. She looks down at her crying little boy. “Baby, Miss Y/N says you can stay with her while Momma goes grocery shopping, how does that sound?”
JJ whines out, but he looks to you with curious eyes and nods just once. His cries immediately start to soften as he realizes he doesn’t have to go to the dreaded grocery store and sit in that uncomfortable cart. He rubs at his eyes as he lets out a small yawn. “Momma?”
“Yeah, JJ?”
“I love you,” the little boy mumbles into Melissa’s shoulder.
“I love you too, honey,” the woman smiles softly as she presses a soft kiss to his head. “Can I put you down now so you can go with Miss Y/N?”
JJ nods, so Melissa sets him down on the ground. He immediately reaches for your free hand that isn’t holding your water bottle.
“Be a good little boy, okay?” the redhead instructs softly to her son. He nods, and you lead him down to your own apartment.
He’s as happy as a clam to sit with you while you go through a few more papers, and then you know it’s time that you should probably start making dinner. With a soft sigh, you lift him to your hip and start pulling out ingredients to make a meal.
“Dinner?” the little boy asks as he starts playing with the baby hairs that have fallen out of your ponytail.
“Yeah, hun,” you smile softly. “How does spaghetti sound?”
“I love pasetti,” your little neighbor mumbles.
You chuckle quietly as the way he says the word but nod. “Then that’s what we’ll have. Does your momma like spaghetti?”
He gives you a cheeky smile in response.
By the time that Melissa comes around to collect her son, you have him calmed down, fed, and giggling as you play Candy Land with him. However, she looks absolutely furious when you open the door.
“You okay?” you ask her quietly, although you very much know the answer already.
“Peachy,” is what she retorts. “C’mon, JJ. I have to get dinner started.”
“But Y/N already gived me dinner, and we saved some for you!” the little boy announces from his place on the floor, donned in one of your sweatshirts.
The redhead furrows her brows. “What?”
“I hope I’m not overstepping,” you say softly. “But he was hungry, I was making dinner, and I figured you might like to come home and not have to cook today.”
“That… wow,” Melissa sighs quietly. “Thank you.”
“It’s on the stove, and if it needs warmed, you’ve seen where my microwave is,” you smile at her as you return back to your game with her son. “Feel free to grab a glass of wine too if you want.”
As the redhead makes her way into the kitchen, she realizes that she can’t remember the last time someone made her a home cooked meal, even if it was something as simple as spaghetti. Joe had cooked for her maybe once as a way to get into her pants, and before then… it was her grandmother while her own parents were in the middle of their terrible divorce and custody battle.
The mother gets her dinner, and then she’s settling on the floor next to her son. She eats in silence, enjoying the fact that she does not have to entertain her son. She also watches as you handle him with such ease, making him smile and giggle the way that only she and Barb can get JJ to act. He’s such a sweet little boy, and the redhead would be lying to herself if she said that watching you with him didn’t make that small attraction to you just the slightest bit bigger.
You of course let the little boy win, and when he does, you tickle him relentlessly claiming that he was just too good and that he must’ve been cheating. His infectious laugh only makes you chuckle, and you know that you would do anything to keep this little boy happy- he already has a piece of your heart.
Then he tiredly crawls into his way into your lap and lays his head on your chest. “Sleepy,” is all he gets out as his eyes start to droop down.
The redhead stands, only half finished her meal. “I guess I should get him-”
You raise a hand as you stand and settle the two of you on the couch. “Don’t even worry about it. He can sleep on me while you finish your meal, and then you can tell me why you came in so pissed.”
Melissa chuckles, but she situates herself back on the floor. She watches the two of you for a bit as you lull her son to sleep with mindless humming and your fingers combing through his hair.
After a bit, you look down, and you know JJ is asleep. “So, you wanna tell me what had you so pissed?”
“Fucking Joe,” is all Melissa sighs out. “Told me that he’s looking for the best family lawyer in the city and that he’s gonna get custody of my son.”
“Well he’s screwed then, because that would be me,” you roll your eyes. “And I’m already taking your case on. Speaking of, there are a few papers I’ll need you to fill out in my briefcase, but I can get them to you tomorrow.”
“You’re the-” her eyes go comically wide.
“I am,” you say cooly. “85% success rate, and he doesn’t know that the odds are already stacked against him with most judges tending to rule with the mother having custody. And if he tries to pull any shit, I’ll make his life a living hell.”
And Joe does try to pull a bunch of shit- threatening Melissa, having his lawyers try to find loopholes around most things. And you just document it all. You and the redhead prepare for the case mostly after long days of work over a meal with that sweet little boy curled up in your lap and wearing one of your sweatshirts.
As the two of you prepare for the court case, you get to see more of the Schemmenti household. You get to see Melissa when she’s at her happiest, playing a simple round of Chutes and Ladders with JJ to take a break from all of the preparation. You also see her when she’s done up for school, and you swear she’s taken your breath away quite a few times. But you also see her at her lowest of lows, when she’s terrified that she’s going to lose JJ and that Joe’s threats are genuinely scaring her to the point of tears. You see her when she’s clad in her pajama bottoms and Eagles sweatshirt, ready to rip her hair out over the meltdown her son is having, and yet she’s still soft and warm with him. And it all… it makes you feel honored that you get to see her for everything that she is- apparently that isn’t a common thing for her to do, to let people in. And yet here you are, getting to know her and see every side of the redhead- even the parts that she doesn’t want you to see.
Her son is obsessed with you in the sweetest way, always coming and knocking on your door to ask if you can play a game with him or to simply give you a hug before he gallops his way back down to his own door with a proud look on his face. 
You would be lying to yourself if you said that you weren’t happy to find yourself a part of their little bubble and that you were falling more and more in love with your client each and every day that you get to see her (which is of course everyday, whether that be to chat over dinner, prepare for the hearing, or just a simple ‘hello’ as you pass each other in the hall). But she… she’s your client, and she’s going through a messy, messy divorce, and you don’t even know if she likes women. You have your own theory that she’s bisexual, but nothing has been confirmed. You can’t, in good conscience, make a move on her. So you don’t. You sit with your feelings and try to not let them consume you.
The day that you spent hours preparing for comes, and Melissa slides into her place very nervously with her son in her arms. She looks absolutely stunning in her dress pants and blazer, and JJ looks precious in his little outfit that you have no doubt is his Easter best.
“I thought we spoke about not bringing him here,” you say in a hushed tone.
The redhead runs a hand through her hair. “I know, I know. My sister was supposed to watch him, but she bailed last minute, Barb can’t watch him because she’s working at the school, and you’re my other babysitter.”
“He better stay quiet,” you warn. “It’s not uncommon for judges to put children in contempt if they’re noisy.”
“He won’t be,” Melissa promises you. “He’s got his little fidget toy, and we already talked about how to act because we don’t want to get taken from Momma.”
The hearing is long and arduous for all parties, but when that gavel comes down and the judge rules that Melissa has sole custody of her son with Joe only being allowed supervised visits due to his excessive drinking, the threats he had made, and his other habits you know it was all worth it.
The mother immediately bursts into happy tears while Joe starts to fume. He starts screaming and cursing, and the court officers begin to rush him out.
He’s not out of the room before he can get out, “You’ll pay for this, you bitch!”
Melissa, too caught up in smothering her little boy in love, doesn’t even pay attention to his words. And later on, she wishes she would have. 
TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson
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lynk-zee · 6 months ago
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I'm a new follower after binging to your writings akejwjeej anyway, I've been craving for some angst lately and here's what I got so far,
reader who started acting cold towards the MLs because they've been hanging out way too much with MC (not the reader) so they started not replying to them, talking or just not going out to them at all until the reader just ghosted them.
though I'm not sure if u write angst since it's not written or indicated.. it's up to you if u want to write this. if not, feel free to ignore XD
Envy
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AN: Hi nonnie! Since I didn’t specify that i prefer to write hunter/ambiguous!Reader (basically not rivaling with the MC) before you sent in the request, I will write this for you! :)
Future asks should either MC!Reader or Ambigous!Reader please! Ty 🩶
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It wasn’t fair. He wasn’t paying attention to you enough lately. And he was supposed to be your boyfriend! He promised that they were just friends, that it was nothing more than work, but now you didn’t know…
So when he texted you last, you turned off your phone, not wanting to deal with his bullshit.
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Knows there’s something wrong immediately. You always answer his texts. Whether it be an emoji or a full-blown paragraph, you’ve never left Zayne on read. Ever.
So, he goes to the flower shop and buys you a bouquet. It’s not enough, but it’s a start. He texts you that he’s picking up your favorite dinner on the way back and asks what kind of macarons you want. You don’t answer, so he goes the safe option and gets your favorite. You almost don’t answer the door when he drops by, but you can’t hide from this forever. So with a heavy sigh, you swing the door open to see Zayne with a bouquet of flowers with dinner and dessert.
Zayne: Can we talk…?
You let him in, of course you do, and you eat dinner in silence. But Zayne is adamant about having this discussion.
Zayne: She’s my patient…and my friend.
You: I understand that, but that doesn’t mean you need to hang out with her all the time!
In the end you both discussed your feelings and set clear boundaries with him. It’s a step in the right direction. Later, he cuddles you on the couch, stroking your hair while whispering affirmations in your ear.
Zayne: I’m sorry, dear. You’re the only one for me… Never doubt that.
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This was the third date he blew off. For her. Yes, she was just his body guard, and yes Rafayel has always been naturally flirty, but that didn’t mean his fondness for her didn’t affect you. You were his significant other! All his flirty affections should be yours and yours alone. You couldn’t stand the fact you had to share his attention. Apparently, Rafayel couldn’t either.
Rafayel: It’s not that big of a deal! She was just helping me gather metapearls to make into pigment— Yes, I could have called you. But she’s my bodyguard! She’s more cut out for it!
Sweet whispers and reassurances turned to broken promises. What was supposed to be one hour away turned to five and you were sitting alone in the fancy restaurant yet again. You didn’t even wait for him at home like you usually do. After turning off your phone, you opted to crash at a friends house.
This turned into a big fight.
Rafayel: What’s with you— You were never this clingy.
Clingy? Not wanting to share your boyfriend with a potential lover is clingy? When you brought up the b word (breakup), he got his act together real quick.
Rafayel: Okay, okay. She’ll be my bodyguard at PR events only… And I’ll only contact her for business purposes.
Though you’d rather her not be his bodyguard at all, you understand they have a deal regarding hunter work so it’s a compromise. While you’re at your desk doing some work, he wraps his arms around you from behind, nuzzling your into your neck.
Rafayel: ‘M really sorry… I was a real jerk… I love you…
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The worst part about having this problem with Xavier is that he has no idea what’s going on. She was his coworker, his work partner, and his neighbor. There wasn’t much he could do to stop seeing her.
Xavier: I can’t just move out of my home because of you have a problem with her…
You: Yeah, but she doesn’t need to come over all the time to “teach you how to cook”. I could do that!
It gets worse when they go on missions together. He had promised to call you every night. But he didn’t. And you were fed up.
So, you blocked him. Only for the duration of his mission. But it’s long enough to send a message. The next day, he comes to your house with an arm full of plushies and a nervous look in his eyes.
Xavier: I read that in order to maintain a strong relationship, you have to communicate and set boundaries… Can we discuss this? Together?
You guys both end up having a heartfelt discussion at the table. You heard his side, he heard yours, and you came to a compromise about the situation. He takes you out on a sweet date as an apology. It isn’t the end all be all of apologies, but it’s a start. He holds your hand tightly, leaning over to kiss your forehead.
Xavier: I promise we’re in this together for the long ride, just you and me…
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glow-worms-are-believers · 2 years ago
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Catwoman's new sidekick (dc x dp)
This is very loosely inspired by this prompt. Enjoy the blurb:)
Danny didn’t really like guns. Not the ecto-weapons his parents made, but the actual bullet-filled guns. He knew how to use them, as that was what his parents had based themselves off of to create their own ectoplasm-powered version of it, but he didn’t like them. So when he’d found one not only loaded, but with the safety off in his apartment’s garbage bin, he’d plan to take it and go throw it in the river to make sure nobody would get to use it. Danny wasn’t exactly shocked to see it, this was Gotham after all, but it was a bit of a nasty surprise to say the least. It wasn’t like it could really hurt him anymore, it seemed halfas had a sort of built-in instinct for going intangible (which had explained why the Nasty-Burger-explosion-that-never-happened hadn’t affected him despite being taken completely by surprise).
Not to mention he was already in a bad mood at the news that Vlad was in the city right now for some rich guy nonsense, which Danny was 100% sure meant the fruitloop was going to come by to bother him at some point in the next few days.
“Hello, Daniel,” came Vlad’s voice from behind him as if summoned.
“Get away from me, you creep,” Danny answered, not turning around. Instead, he started walking in the opposite direction.
“Is that anyway to talk to your unckie Vlad?” The man said with his smarmy tone. “And I came by such a long way to come see you.”
“You saw me, now you can leave.” Danny didn’t bother turning his head as Vlad caught up so they were walking side by side.
The billionaire tsked as he looked around. “It’s such a shame you live in such a poor neighbourhood. You know the offer to pay for your tuition is still open.”
“Not in a million years,” Danny answered dryly.
“You’re just as stubborn as my dear Madeleine used to be,” Vlad sighed and Danny felt the disgust twist his features into a grimace.
“Still being a creepy disgusting old loner, Vlad?” Danny snarked. “How many cats are you on, number 5?”
There was flash of anger in the older man’s eye before he smirked. “And how is dear Danielle these days, it’s been so long since she came by. I think she’ll be due for another meltdown soon.”
On impulse, Danny raised the gun, knowing full well the man would go intangible faster than any bullet and pointed it at Vlad. “Don’t you dare touch her.”
“Oh please, Daniel,” Vlad scoffed. “What are you going to do, shoot me?”
“Maybe,” Danny retorted.
“It wouldn’t change anything,” Vlad dismissed.
“Might make me feel better,” Danny said even as he lowered the gun a bit, knowing it wouldn’t do anything.
Vlad knew this just as well, and he sneered before turning his back to Danny and walking away with a parting shot. “I always get what I want, Daniel. Whether it’s through you or her.”
The gun that Danny had lowered slightly now came back up. He was so tempted to empty the stupid thing at Vlad, no matter if it would all pass through him. Before he could do anything though, a voice from above sounded.
“He’s not worth it, kid.”
Danny looked up to find the masked face of Catwoman peering down on him.
“He deserves worse than this,” Danny said, mind still on the temptation of shooting at Vlad’s intangible back. This was a deserted part of the city, it wasn’t like it would hurt anyone else.
“I promise there are better ways to make him pay,” Catwoman answered.
Danny scoffed bitterly. “Vlad’s so rich, he can pay off anyone and cover up any scandal I could think of.” And if money didn’t work, there was always straight-up overshadowing innocent bystanders.
The masked woman hesitated for a while before she called down determinately. “Look, get rid of the gun, and I promise I’ll help you make him pay.”
“Really?” Danny wasn’t too sure what that entailed but anything that would hinder Vlad was a go for him. “You promise?”
“I do,” she stated with conviction. “But you have to lose the gun.”
“Yeah, ok,” Danny said. He was going to do it anyways, but if she wanted it gone even faster, Danny wasn’t going to argue.
Selina watched as her new sidekick dropped off the gun into the river. It fell in with a splash that had something in her curling comfortably. Maybe Bruce was really rubbing off on her if she was picking up strays
But, Selina had a good feeling about this. Talking a kid out of murder had been how Batman had gotten his first Robin, after all.
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here-but-forgotten · 8 months ago
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tolerate it. / valeria garza/wife!reader.
angsty. not happy. not fun. valeria doesn’t show up but she’s still a dick. cathartic writing. part two here.
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she’s gone again.
She is normally gone, these days.
You move, pulling the curtains like it would do much, only blocking out the moon. It’s not like anyone would look in. No one knows where here is. Well, she does. But she doesn’t come home often. Not anymore at least.
She tells you it’s work. It’s business. It’s not personal. Like a bad mobster movie. At least in mobster movies, they act like they pay attention to their wives. They act like they do. But they don’t. But at least they play pretend long enough to make you want to tolerate it.
Valeria is busy. You know that. You tell yourself that. She’s just tired. She doesn’t have too much time for all of this anymore. But she won’t let it end. So she leaves you waiting like a too loyal dog, by the door, waiting for her to come home, for her to glance at you, for her to give you a minute of her time.
And it’s fine. You tell yourself it’s fine. She assumes your fine. And you don’t say anything. That’ll just stress her out more. That’s what you tell yourself, anyway. And your mind goes back to the last time she was home; when she held you sweetly for a moment, told you how she liked how to dressed the table briefly, then left again. Left for the shower and didn’t want you to come. When she ate dinner but didn’t look at you. And you told yourself she was just tired. And so you went to bed, and she followed. But she never touched you. She slept and left before you awoke. She didn’t leave you anything.
And you tell yourself she loves it, she’s just a bit cold. And you tell yourself she looks forward to you, she’s just tired. And you tell yourself, you have a good life that she gave you, she just locks you away for your own safety. and she always told you she loved the way you loved, but it seems like recently, she just tolerates it.
And you know she’s just tired and stressed and there’s a lot on her plate. But she never shows you her plate. You wouldn’t know she had one until she told you when it was too late. And she told you and looked you in the eye, watched the tears come to your eyes, and when you looked down she said how you never look her in the eyes.
And you know she takes her ring off to keep you safe, she says. And you know that makes sense. But she never puts it back on, she keeps it in her pocket, like a bad secret. and you know she tells you that one day you’ll plan a trip, and get away, and she’ll love you right. But that hasn’t happened, and she hasn’t talked about it happening, but she said it would. Right?
And you tell yourself, if it’s really as bad as you think, you would just leave. You promise yourself. That you could. That you could leave and take away the dead weight. But could you? you say you could. But could you? Could you make yourself stop bleeding? Could you restart your heart if you had to? Or will you just tolerate it?
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thetriumphantpanda · 11 months ago
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Delicate - Chapter Two: Maroon
3.7k / pairing: joel miller x f!reader
Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
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summary: despite some last minute reservations about meeting Joel, you throw yourself into the date, but it doesn't go according to plan.
A/N: Ahhhhh oh my God - @hellishjoel and I are so excited to bring you the second chapter of Delicate! We're having the best time with this little pairing already and we hope they manage to worm their way into your hearts just like they have with us! We're taking turns in posting the chapters of this - so please make sure you're following both of us to keep up to date!
warnings: mentions of being a single parents, rom-com vibes, foul language, a bestie who is nothing but trouble, Joel being terrible at dating in general, a lil smattering of angst, mentions of food & alcohol consumption.
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There’s a flow of peace that settles across you when the door to Noah’s room clicks shut. You love him, he’s the best thing that ever happened to you, and he keeps you afloat every day, but these moments, when he’s finally asleep and you can stop thinking for a minute, are the moments you crave each day. 
You settle down on the couch, mug of tea in hand, with the TV playing quietly, just for background noise more than anything, as you pick up your phone for the first time that evening. There’s a few emails, mainly about shopping sales and holidays that you think you should book but never do - those are quickly deleted to stop any temptation of spending money on something that isn’t essential. There are a few messages from your mom, just confirming that she’ll pick Noah up from school tomorrow, what she’s planned for them to do and what she’ll feed him. You shoot a message off in reply that it all sounds good and that he’s excited for some quality time with his grandparents, because it’s true, and then you set your phone down on the coffee table and try to ignore it for a while. 
You finish your tea and queue up a few episodes of a show you’ve been meaning to catch up on - something mindless that people at work always seem to talk about. So mindless that it actually sends you to sleep. You wake with a jolt a few hours later. The house is still quiet, which means Noah hasn’t decided he’s still got too much energy and needs to burn it off by jumping on the bed or pulling some of his toys out. You sigh, checking the time to see it’s almost midnight. 
You gather your stuff, put the mug in the sink to deal with in the morning before trudging up to bed. There’s a moment at the top of the stairs, where you think it would be so easy to flop down on the bed and forgo the rest of your responsibilities, but you’ve got your mother’s voice in the back of your mind, something about wrinkles and pores and how bad it is to sleep in your makeup, so you turn left into the bathroom, cover your skin in serums and creams and then finally, just after midnight, you fall into bed. 
Knowing it’s bad to look at your phone this late at night, once you’ve set your alarm, you click open the godforsaken Hinge app that Dixie had insisted on setting you up on. So far, after six months, you’d been on a fair few first dates, three second dates and had a God awful one night stand, but nothing had been sticking, no-one seemed to be exactly what you were looking for. You’d promised her that you’d try though, so as had become a nightly ritual for you, you set about giving away your daily likes, not really paying a huge amount of attention until he pops up for you. Joel. 45. From his first profile picture, the exact kind of man you’d been searching for. Rugged, handsome, 
Of the few photos he had on his profile, he was often donning a flannel or a simple short-sleeved shirt that curved around his biceps and broad shoulders. He always wore the same tilted smile, with dazzling eyes and dark hair with licks of silver. He was a handsome lumberjack of sorts. 
He looked to be an outdoorsman, at least two of Joel’s pictures were of him hiking a trail accompanied by a young girl, surrounded by greenery and tall rocks with the sunshine peeking through the branches. His face was glowing and tan from the light, his handsomeness so natural. Beautiful, even. 
Joel’s “Typical Sunday” consisted of a black coffee in the morning, followed by making burgers on the grill for him and his family before settling down to watch a Dallas Cowboys football game. That was a typical Sunday for a man, but it showed how he liked to unwind and that he was a family man. 
First, the mention of a family, plus that beautiful young woman in almost all of Joel’s pictures - a daughter, perhaps? Older than your own boy by quite a few years. He must have been on the younger side of having children if any of these assumptions were even correct. But there was something about knowing he also had a baby to be thinking of felt familiar, comforting, as they would always come first. 
 And it turns out that talking to him is pretty easy too. He’s charming, a slight insomniac like you, and from what you can tell from the slight back and forth you managed to have before you go to sleep, able to flirt a little with you too. It’s why when he asks to take you out you say yes without hesitation, it could be fun, he could be the one, who knows? 
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Mornings are always chaos. Half-eaten bowls of cereal on the table, a mug of coffee made with the best of intentions but sat to go cold, a rush of getting Noah dressed and in the car with everything he needed for school and then the annoyance of getting stuck in traffic on the way to drop him off, all coalesce to make you stressed as you help Noah out of the backseat. 
“Remember granny is picking you up this afternoon okay?” You ask, bending down to kiss his cheek as he fiddles with the straps of his backpack. 
“I know, mom.” He groans, using the back of his hand to wipe the kiss off his cheek. 
You smile, ruffle his hair a bit, because no matter how much he might protest, he will always be your baby, “Behave for her, okay?” You warn lightly with a smile, “She’ll bring you back home tomorrow.” 
Noah spots some of his friends across the playground and steps around you to make his way into school. You turn, hold your hand up in a wave and shout at him to have a good day. Noah turns, walking backwards to look at you, waving right back. 
“Have a good day, mom!” 
Underneath the way he’s growing up, he’s still the sweet little boy you knew you could raise on your own. You sit back in your car, picking your phone up to make sure you’ve got enough time to go to the store and stock up on some groceries, when you notice a notification from Hinge. It’s Joel. 
Just checking you’re still okay for tonight? 
For some reason, you sit and stare at it for a few minutes, fingers itching to type something, to confirm, but there’s that usual seed of doubt that appears after all this time that makes you want to tell him something’s come up, you’ll have to reschedule. After months and months of trying to find someone, to failed first date after failed first date, you wonder if it really is worth it, no matter how good of a match Joel Miller seems on paper. Is he really going to be worth getting dressed up for? You sigh, type out your usual message of I’m sorry, I think I might have to reschedule, when the screen is filled with the face of your best friend, trying to call you. 
“Hello?” 
“Hello sexy mama!” Dixie’s voice immediately soothes you, “How are you this fine morning?” 
“I’m okay,” You speak softly, plugging the phone into the car so you can speak to her as you drive, “Just dropped Noah off at school.” 
“How is my favourite man?” She asks. 
“Yeah, he’s good, he’s staying with my mom tonight so I think he’s just pleased to be away from me for a while.” 
“It’s like the universe read my mind!” Dixie exclaims on the other end of the phone, “Do you want to go out and get wine drunk tonight?” 
You stutter for a second, because you could, you could cancel with Joel, go out and drink cheap wine and dance with your friend, but before you can say anything, Dixie picks up on your hesitation. 
“OH MY GOD!” She all but screeches, “Do you have a hot date tonight?!” 
You grumble a little, because how is she always so attuned to you like this? 
“Yeah, although I don’t know if I’m gonna go.” 
“Why not?” 
You sigh again, “I don’t know if it’s worth it anymore?” You offer. 
“Girl, get outta here with that attitude!” She chastises, “Is he hot?” 
You grumble a little again, but you can’t deny it, Joel is hot, “Yes.” 
“Well then,” You can hear her clap her hands in the background, clearly having you on speaker so she can go about her business, “If he’s hot, then there’s no harm in it, forget me and my wine, go out, drink wine with your hot mystery stranger and get fucked, girl!” 
“Dixie!” You screech, “I’m not fucking him.” 
“Whatever you say, girl!” She shouts down the phone, “If you cancel, I’m kicking your ass, okay?” You sigh, once again, something you’re getting more and more used to these days, “Have fun and be safe!” 
And then all you can hear is the dial tone from where she’s hung up on you. You think about it all the way around the grocery store, she wouldn’t know if you did cancel, would she? But you’ve known her long enough to know she’d sniff a lie out of you in seconds. So, when you settle down at your desk, you pull out your phone and send Joel a reply to confirm the plans you made last night, and then spend the rest of the work day trying not to work yourself up about the whole thing. 
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You don’t think that the anxiety of waiting for a date to show up will ever get easier. Stood just inside the doorway of the restaurant Joel had chosen, you’re chewing at the skin around your thumbnail. Did you dress right? Do you look okay? When he turns up will he look like his pictures or not? Will he lean in for a kiss on the cheek? Do you give him a hug? You’d like to think of yourself as a seasoned pro at this now, but those first few awkward moments always made you anxious - there was no second chance at first impressions. 
You needn’t have worried about Joel though. When the door opens and he stands in front of you, he is exactly the man you’d studied on that app. Taller than you, broad and big. Scruff, peppered with gray across his face, though it’s neatly kept, just like this hair, although more unruly, it’s still peppered with grays and it suits him. He’s wearing dark jeans, and a flannel that you think must be saved for best. You step closer, open your arms. Joel leans down, and does indeed press a kiss to your cheek, one of his wide palms pressed lightly on your lower back as he hugs you back a little. 
“Nice to meet you, Joel.” You smile when he pulls away. 
“You too, ma’am.” He smiles back at you, and you can tell he’s nervous. 
“What have I told you about that?” You tease as you step towards the hostess, Joel giving her his name, you hope the slight teasing will put him at ease, you remember just what it was like when you started dating for the first time, and as much as you want to have a good time, you want to make sure Joel is having a good time too. 
She picks up two menus, leads the two of you to a table at the edge of the restaurant. Joel pulls your chair out for you, pushing it gently under you as you sit down. The light is low, and there’s a thrum of chatter across the whole restaurant as you open the menu, glancing your eyes over the choices. 
“Do you want to share a bottle of wine?” You ask, finger skimming the list of wines available. 
Joel nods, “Sure thing, darlin’.” 
You smile, looking down at the menu, deciding you much prefer darling to ma’am, especially in that sweet southern drawl of his. When the waitress returns, you both order food and a bottle of wine, which is quickly brought to the table, uncorked, with the dark red liquid poured into two glasses. The waitress leaves the bottle on the table as you raise your glass, Joel following suit, clinking them together before you take a sip. 
You’re watching as he does the same, a smaller sip than you, and then watch as his nose crinkles and he coughs a little. It makes you laugh, putting your glass down to cover your mouth a little. 
“Dunno why I said yes,” He shakes his head, “Fuckin’ hate wine.” 
You can’t help but properly laugh now, hoping that it puts him a little at ease. You reach over the table, lay your hand on his wrist just a touch, “What would you prefer to drink?” 
You don’t miss the way he subtly drags his wrist back from your touch, covering it by scratching at the skin on the side of his hand, but you don’t let it bother you. You’re a touchy person, it’s what makes you feel at ease mostly, but that doesn’t mean it works for Joel, so you fold your hands back in your lap. 
“Usually beer,” He mumbles, flagging down the waitress as she walks past to ask for just that, “Or whiskey.” 
“I don’t mind a beer,” You offer, trying to make light conversation, “But whiskey makes my throat burn.” 
He doesn’t offer much of a reply apart from a short hum from his mouth, his attention moving from you to the room around you, letting the table fall into silence. You look down at your lap, trying to think of things to say whilst you wait for your food. 
“So, Sarah, right?” You ask after his daughter, it’s something the two of you have in common at least, “You must be super proud of her, medical school is incredible.” 
“Yeah,” He says simply, “She’s a very smart girl.” 
You expect him to ask after Noah, ask him a little about what he’s like, maybe what his favourite subjects are at school or whether he’s in any sports clubs or anything, but he doesn’t offer anything else to you, doesn’t ask any questions. 
There’s a lull in the conversation, saved by the waitress dropping your meals in front of you, fresh tomato pasta with chicken for you and steak and mashed potatoes with asparagus for Joel. You swirl your fork through the pasta, scooping some into your mouth as Joel cuts into his steak. Your eyes are trained on him, watching how he eats - it’s one of your big tests, table manners, and to be fair to him, he passes with flying colours - sure he eats a bit fast, but it’s nothing off-putting, and he seems to be able to use a knife and fork properly and chew with his mouth closed, which is a far cry from the last person you’d been out with. 
“You look really good tonight,” You offer, setting your fork down for a moment, “The flannel is very Texas.” 
You think in the dim light you can see him flush a little, and you’ve not said anything that isn’t true, he does look good. Fucking great actually. Joel finishes swallowing, takes a swig of his beer. 
“Thank you,” He tips his head towards you, “You look nice too,” He brings his hand up to his face to motion, “Rosy cheeks.” 
You try not to let your disappointment show, it is a compliment after all, so you put all your focus back down into your meal, the two of you finishing your food in a rather awkward silence - you willing Joel to ask you something, to start a conversation, anything really. You watch as Joel pushes the asparagus around his plate after eating two of the spears, finishing off his steak and potatoes but leaving the rest of the greens. 
When the waitress comes back to clear your plates, she asks if you’d like the dessert menu. You look to Joel, who tips his head in a way to say it’s up to you, but this has quite possibly been the most excruciating few hours of your life, so you drain your glass of wine, tip the last of the bottle into the glass and sit to wait for the bill. 
“Listen,” Joel starts, dragging your attention from the bottom of your glass to him, a look of slight regret on his face, “I ain’t too good at all this,” He tries to explain, “It’s been a long time and I’m a little rusty.” 
You kind of want to wring his ass for it a little, but underneath his apparent disinterest, you can still see the nerves of the guy who first walked through the door, and you get it, you think you’d been similar when you first started dating again, but you don’t think you’d completely lost the ability to think of a single question. 
Joel insists on paying the bill and you don’t fight him for the privilege of splitting it - you think it might upset some of that southern chivalry he has and for someone else they’ll love that. It’s a silent affair as you both stand up, gather your things. 
“How are you getting home?” Joel asks, holding the front door open for you. 
“I can just grab a cab,” You smile, “How about you?” 
He points to a truck, “Only had one so I can drive home,” He explains, “Do you mind if I wait with you for your cab?” He asks, “I’d feel better knowing you get in one safe.” 
“Of course,” You smile, “The hostess called one for me, so it shouldn’t be long.” 
There’s another lull in conversation, thankfully your cab arrives quickly, saving the silence from falling into awkwardness again. Joel beats you to the door, opening it for you. 
“I would say it’s been nice meeting you,” He speaks, “But I feel like I made this real difficult, and I’m sorry for that.” 
Going to step into the cab, you stop, leaning down to put your bag in the back seat, pausing a little before you turn back around to him, meeting his eyes. They’re striking, dark brown and beautiful, and trying to tell you just how much he knows he’s messed up. It makes your heart sink because you feel that sadness too, knowing he had so much promise, that he understood you in a way you thought other people didn’t, without even needing to talk to you, he’s a single parent, he gets it, like other people don’t. It frustrates you, makes your breath catch in your throat and your eyes glass over. 
You bring a comforting hand to his shoulder, “It’s okay,” You add a smile at the end, “It takes some time to get used to this all again, I was the same,” You look down at your shoes,  “It’ll get easier each time you do it, I promise.” 
His head dips, regret flashed across his face, like he wishes he could go back and do it all over but better this time. 
“M’sorry, again,” His tone is low, morose even, then he dips, presses a soft kiss to your cheek, “Get home safe.” 
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You flop down on your bed, hand running over your face, wondering at what point it had gone wrong. He’d had so much potential, had seemed like he could be so right for you, so what went wrong? 
No sooner have you sent the ‘home safe’ message to Dixie, do you feel the soft vibrating of your phone. You answer, put the phone on loudspeaker and set it by your head. 
“So, how did it go?” 
You groan, “He had so much potential Dix,” You let out a pained noise, “I don’t know where it went wrong?!” 
“Oh honey,” She coos down the phone, aware more than anyone how much you wanted to be done with dating and finally have someone you could spend time with, “What happened?” 
“I don’t even know!” You exclaim, “Like, I could tell he was nervous, and this was his first date in years, but it was like he’d never spoken to a woman in his life, it was so hard!” 
You can hear her sucking on her teeth on the other end of the phone, “Are you being too hard on him?” She asks, “You always say the cocky men are no good because they’re rehearsed, maybe he just needs time to warm up?” 
“Dixie, I’d need a flamethrower to warm him up!” 
That gets a giggle out of her, “Mama, listen to me,” She goes into serious mode now, “Not everyone is as seasoned as you at this, and if this was his first date in years and he comes face to face with you? Of course he’s going to be nervous, you can’t write him off just for that honey.” 
That’s when your truth really hits out, “But what if I spend all that time warming him up and it’s a waste of time? He could turn out to be no good for me and then I’ve wasted so much time instead of trying to find the right person.” 
“Honey, respectfully, you’re forty, not at the end of your life, I promise that maybe spending some time trying to unravel someone a little instead of writing them off immediately might actually be worth it.” 
“I don’t know, Dix…” You trail off. 
“Just sleep on it, okay?” She offers, “See how you feel when you wake up before you send him the ‘thanks but no thanks’ message.” 
“Okay, I promise.” 
The two of your say goodbye to each other, you stay led on the bed for a while before you push yourself up, plug your phone into the charger, noticing the notification from Hinge when your screen lights up. You can see it’s Joel’s name that sits on the front screen. You sigh, sitting on the edge of the bed, weighing up whether to read it or not. Deciding that if you do read it, you’re likely to make a decision against what Dixie told you, so you leave the notification sitting there, get yourself ready for bed and then will yourself to sleep without going over every second of the date wondering what you could have done differently.
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