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cher-rei · 5 months ago

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sparks— jamal musiala [ J.M ]

how rare and beautiful it truly is that we exist [saturn– sleeping at last]

pairing: jamal musiala x fem!reader

summary: it's the knockout stage for germany for the 2024 euro, and as usual you're there to support your boyfriend, accompanied by some bad weather and a bet to spice up the evening.

genre(s): fluff (as usual)

[w.c: 3.3k] masterlist

notes: I had such a fun time writing this shut upppp shsjssj. this one is for my musiala girlies xx

"this weather is going to be the death of me," you said and took your seat beside your friends sophia and aaliyah who were huddled together in attempt to defeat the crisp yet strong german wind.

you tucked your chin into your scarf, but even then it didn't help. the three of you actually remembered to dress warm for today's match, unlike the last few games where you whole heartedly believed that the rain was just an episode.

before leaving the house sophia had to remind both you and aaliyah to bring scarfs because she had a bad feeling. so here you were, at the stadium in dortmund dressed in a pair of jeans, a cream knitted jumper, and a wool jacket that unfortunately hid your football jersey with your boyfriend's name decorated at the back.

the stadium was bustling and you couldn't believe that supporters still came out to watch football under these conditions, but it was an important match and you were filled with just as much anxiety and anticipation as them.

jamal was all the more excited the evening before when he facetimed you from his hotel room. there was a twinkle in his eyes as he spoke to you about training and how his day had been and it just reminded you of how much you missed him.

sophia and aaliyah agreed with you in that department, understanding just how difficult it was to be separated from their partners this long. but the three of you managed (barely) and showed up to every match together to show your support.

needless to say, the media were having a ball with the amount of content and pictures that were published of the three of you every week. there wasn't any issue with it however and jamal quite liked the fact that he got to show you off, saying that the world deserved to know just how smitten he was with you.

it was about twenty minutes into the first half when you felt a drop of rain hit your hand, having nothing much to do besides groan and deal with it. so far, little progress was made on the pitch despite the three shots on target that germany had.

"good on denmark for putting up a fight, but I'd really appreciate it if they gave up so that we can go home," aaliyah joked and you fought back a smile, while sophia was sat in her seat with a torn expression.

there was a small pout on her lips and by that look you knew that she was worried about kai. her gaze was glued to his figure running on the pitch, mentally cheering him on. "I think the rain is messing with him."

you hummed and lifted your head to look at the darkened sky, your face scrunching at the sight of the heavier clouds blowing over the stadium. the wind had started to pick up now which made the experience even more uncomfortable but you had to endure it.

a smile tugged at your lips as you watched your boyfriend make his tackles. there was just something about watching him play that made you appreciate the sport more, it was enticing. "pure class," you said out loud with a boastful smile.

sophia jokingly scoffed at your comment which caught the attention of aaliyah who felt the need to tease her. "what are you scoffing for?" she asked with a smug smile. "kai missed two goals already."

your lips parted in shock, but you remained silent and proceeded to listen to them go at each other from each side of you.

"yeah, well at least he had the chance. remind me where flo is again?" sophia countered and you let a laugh slip out at the attack on florian who was on the bench.

the teasing didn't stop though, and it got to the point where you had to physically back away because they were both leaning over you to take a jab at the other. the roaring of the fans was soon interrupted by an even louder roar which you recognised to be thunder.

seconds after, the rain got heavier and it was pouring. you heard the whistle blow from the pitch and apparently the match officials were taking an intermission to check if the lightning would be an issue any further.

you felt sophia's hand slip into yours, the chill sending a shiver down your spine. the three of you were nearly drenched and if it was one privilege that you loved then it was the option to sit in the booth at times like these.

it was announced that the match would be suspended until further notice due to the weather ten minutes before half time and your head instinctively turned to look for your boyfriend, to check if he was okay before you got up from your seat.

"and this is our cue to leave," aaliyah said and led you and sophia through the rampaging crowd to the top of the stands where you'd be covered.

the supporters however were doing the exact opposite and rejoicing in the downpour— dancing and waving their flags in the air while some used it as a form of shelter. the sight was anything but ordinary and you couldn't help but bask in the atmosphere.

another boom of thunder sounded through the air causing sophia to jump up beside you, her grip tightening on your hand. the three of you looked up at the sky, awing in unison at the strikes of lightning flashing between the clouds.

there was only one thing on your mind, and it was the need to take a picture. you took out your phone and waited for the perfect moment, practicically spamming the button until it hit the perfect shot.

aaliyah awed at the picture from behind you. "you have to send that to me, that looks unreal."

after a few more minutes and pictures being taken you finally made it upstairs to dry off. both teams were in their dressing rooms as well, probably more scared than ever because of the match interruption. uncertainty hung in the air at times like this, where all they could do was wait.

the door to the family booth that the three of you were sat in just closed when someone opened it again. to no one's surprise entered kai and florian sporting two completely different looks.

sophia's eyes softened at her boyfriend's state, his hair damp and kit looking like it just took a swim. she hesitated for a moment to pull him into a hug for some comfort seeing as he wasn't having the best time on the pitch.

aaliyah on the other hand ruffled her boyfriend's hair and laughed, gaining sophia's attention. "see what being on the bench does? he's as dry as the sahara right now while kai looks like he just drowned."

from beside aaliyah, florian's jaw dropped in offence, at the mention of him being benched which quickly broke out banter between the two while sophia was still comforting kai and giving him some words of encouragement.

watching them interact made your heart swell, making you miss jamal even more. and as if you summoned him, your smiling but breathless boyfriend made his entrance and without time to spare he pulled you into a tight hug.

despite the chill in the air and his body, you were filled with a warmth that you've missed so much the past few weeks. so much that you could almost excuse his audacity to hug you when he was dripping from head to toe.

you pulled away with a smile. "j, did you see the lightning? I can't believe that it's summer right now."

jamal looked at you puzzled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "I came here to say that I missed you to the point of an enotional brekdown and you ask me about the lightning?"

your lips pursed at his counter but before you could defend yourself he pressed a quick but much needed kiss to your cheek. "we'll talk later, I just really needed to see you."

he looked up at his teammates who were leisurely enjoying their time with their partners, a look of disapproval on his face. "am I the only one who cares that we're playing an international knockout stage right now?"

"flo doesn't care, he's on the bench," aaliyah said and shot her boyfriend a teasing smile. "isn't that right babe?"

the german supporters in the stands all screamed in victory at the penalty that was given, and to no one's surprise kai was the one who was ready to take it and potentially put them in the lead.

aaliyah leant forward and looked at both you and sophia with a determined smile. "I think it's time for a bet."

a hum of intrigue left your lips at the idea but sophia shook her head. "he's going to get this in... I hope." she looked at her boyfriend who stood uneasily in front of the penalty area.

but a few words were exchanged between the three of you and an agreement was made.

"there's still 40 minutes left," she began and gestured to the pitch. "they're capable I'm sure, but whoever's boyfriend doesn't score has to pay for lunch tomorrow."

your eyebrows raised when she said "lunch". you knew very well that it wasn't just a meal. it consisted of breakfast, a trip to the museum or any activity really, lunch and supper. the loser would have to pay for the entire day, and it was no joke that you three were expensive.

aaliyah was more than confident in florian being subbed on and scoring, sophia was more uneasy than kai at the moment but had hope in her boyfriend, and you didn't really mind paying but you could never back down from a challenge.

the three of you shook on it and watched as kai got ready to take the penalty, everyone holding their breath in unison. it happened in a blink of an eye but the goal had sophia jumping up from her seat and clapping as loud as she could.

"guess I'm eating for free tomorrow," she teased and sat back down to which you rolled your eyes. aaliyah on the other hand shot you a competitive glare, causing you to laugh.

you eased back into your seat and shoved your hands into your coat pocket. "if jamal scores then I'll stand in the rain without my coat on, and if flo scores--"

"miraculously," sophia interjected which earned her a playful slap on the arm from aaliyah who quickly turned her attention back to you.

"then I'll have to? on the pitch?" she asked with her eyebrows raised and you nodded. she ran her tongue over her teeth and shook your hand, loving that you were upping the stakes and adding some more to the bet.

a good 10 minutes of no action went by and you were watching with immense focus, your gaze not trailing from jamal who looked breathtaking drenched in water, and without even saying anything sophia read your mind.

"they look ten times better with water dripping from them on the pitch, it adds something extra," she said bashfully and took her phone out to take a few pictures of kai since he wasn't too far away.

she then looked to aaliyah with a smug smirk. "obviously you wouldn't understand because flo is dryer than the sahara."

you covered your mouth at the retort about what aaliyah said earlier on. it seemed that the two of them never ended their playful banter, and you were always in the middle without complaining because it was genuinely so entertaining.

while they continued to talk, the universe gifted you with this perfect opportunity because you caught a certain someone's attention. he wasn't doing much on the pitch and you took advantage of the moment and gestured to the goalpost.

of course, jamal was confused but he was more than certain that you were asking him to score. he jogged on but kept his attention on you for a moment, and you gestured to the goalpost again, flashed him a loving smile and made a heart with your hands.

from beside you aaliyah let out a gasp. "that's literally cheating! you can't tell him to score."

you raised your hands in defence seeing as jamal had run off and continued to play. "I'm not doing this for me liya, I don't mind paying. and even if he does then I have to strip in this weather."

aaliyah shook her head at you, disagreeing with you wholeheartedly even though you tried to defend yourself. there wasn't much to say since you were being honest. "I told him to score because it gives him extra motivation."

now both sophia and aaliyah hummed unconvinced, to which you sighed.

"he just does better if I ask him to, okay? and he really wants that third goal, so if I ask him to do it then he'll do anything he can to get it."

it was practically scientifically proven (to you at least). jamal was always the type of person to do anything you asked him to, even before you guys started dating. all it took was a smile and he'd make sure that what you wanted was handed to you on a silver platter.

the devotion that he had towards you was unmatched, especially when it came to scoring or performing well on the pitch. no matter how he played, you always sat in the stands with a proud smile on your face and the appreciation that he was yours.

so even if he could barely see you from the stands, a simple gesture to the goalpost was enough of a tell tale that you wanted a goal. and if you wanted something, then he'd get it for you.

"and it's in from musiala!!!"

the german supporters jolted in their sears at the unexpected goal, rejoicing in the 2-0 lead and celebrating the clear advantage they had in heading to the quarter finals. you were the first one out of your seat the second the ball hit the back of your net, not minding the light drizzle hitting your face as you watched your boyfriend celebrate.

of course, he didn't forget about you and made sure to send a heart your way, one that you were more than happy to return. the adrenaline rushed to your cheeks in the form of a blush and looked at your friends with a smug smile.

they both sat in disbelief, their lips parted as you clapped. "I need that type of devotion in my life," sophia said and nudged your arm.

it wasn't too long that florian was subbed on for jamal, which was hilariously funny considering the context. aaliyah clapped with her lips pouted. "come on let's make it three for three, bench boy!"

both you and sophia burst out into a fit of laughter at her comment, and you swore that you saw flo turn to look at her with an expression that screamed "what the actual fuck??".

it was heading into the last few minutes of the match and despite flo having a few good opportunities, he took none of them. aaliyah grew frustrated from beside you, complaining about the incompetence of the players even though they did nothing wrong.

it was obvious that she was the one with the temper in the group, and that only showed even more when florian had a good run with the ball and she was practically sitting on the edge of her seat, screaming for him to kick it to which he did.

"yes that's what I'm talking about!" she screamed and hit her chest in victory. "three for three girls."

her moment of bliss didn't last long however because the referee blew the whistle for offside. she wasn't happy about that at all either and fought back a mouthful of curses. "what the fuck? how was the offside??"

the whistle blew for full time after a very eventful knockout stage, you and sophia adorning smiles while aaliyah was still complaining about the linesman not raising the flag sooner. the supporters started exiting the stadium slowly as the players went out onto the pitch.

the three of you weren't in any rush however, and made your way down leisurely. "at least you don't have to strip in the rain," sophia laughed and you rolled your eyes.

the rain did in fact start to pick up, and the light drizzle was lightly pouring now instead. you head out onto the pitch with them and started by removing your scarf and handed it to aaliyah who was more than happy to take it.

they watched with smiles as you took off your jacket, followed by your jumper to reveal the thin football jersey underneath. when they were happy with you, they headed off to their respective partners.

"you had one job! now I have to pay for lunch tomorrow!" aaliyah yelled as she approached flo who could've have been more confused. he threw his hands into the air at his girlfriend's outburst.

"thanks for the support I guess," he said and the two walked off to complain to kai and sophia.

for the nth time this evening you raised your head to look at the dark clouds hanging over the stadium, enjoying the feeling of the rain hitting your skin.

the moment of silence was interrupted by the feeling of someone tickling your side, and you turned to see your boyfriend who looked happier than ever.

"well done out there starboy," you said and loosely wrapped your arms around his neck while his hands took refuge on your waist.

he leant in to pepper your face with kisses, and you relished in the warmth you missed more than life itself. "when my girlfriend asks for something, she gets it."

your stomach did at least three flips at his answer and to anyone watching it seemed like this scene was straight out of a movie. seriously, you were standing in the middle of a football pitch in the rain. insane.

jamal pulled away to dry your face despite his sleeve being just as wet. "now can you please tell me why you aren't wearing a jacket right now, baby?"

your shoulders shrugged at his question. "I won the bet."

"huh?" he laughed at the absurdity and tried to make sense of what yoh had just told him, because in no way did it seem that being vulnerable in weather like this could be a reward. "and what did you win?"

you couldn't suppress the smile on your face, losing yourself in his eyes that felt all too close to home. "I won a very happy boyfriend."

the warmth of his hand cupping your cheek wasn't even registered until you felt his lips meet yours. the rain cascaded, each drop of rain that hit your skin being a reminder of just how real this moment was. how real he was.

his hands gently gripped your waist, and he pulled you closer for some extra warmth. the coolness of the rain heightened every sensation in your body— the warmth of his lips and his touch and the pounding of you heart against his chest.

and when the two of you finally pulled away, breathless but more in love than ever you were reminded to be thankful for moments like this. the rain continued to fall, but it no longer felt cold because all that mattered was the warmth of jamal as he looked at you with a softened gaze.

"we should kiss in the rain more often."

#cherrei writes #jamal musiala x reader #jamal musiala #footballer x reader #footballer imagine #bayern munich #euro 2024 #jamal musiala fanfic

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s-che · 20 days ago

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a game where we hurt each other

Last month, I played perhaps the most intense TTRPG session of my life as part of the Dream Library’s discussion of Bluebeard’s Bride, a game of “feminist horror” (more on this later) published by Magpie in a gorgeous print edition. Over the course of the month of October my guest lecturer/collaborator @marvelousmsmolly I collectively hosted three sessions of what was by far the most challenging game the Dream Library has ever discussed.

We came to Bluebeard as the second part of our fall semester covering games of intimacy and monstrosity — a unit which began in September with Avery Alder’s Monsterhearts 2 and is continuing this month with Vampire: The Masquerade (If you want to get in on the VTM discussion and future semesters, please, come join). Both Molly and I suspected that Bluebeard was going to be both a quieter month and a riskier text — but opted to play through it anyway, albeit with some tools in place to make sure everyone knew what they were getting into with a book that doesn’t pull many punches. And with all that, the first two sessions went... fine? We had some lumpy pacing, some conflicting styles of play, some questions about how a game that really seems to encourage player bleed can possibly be played online, but for the most part things were fine. Not great, not bad — not worth the anxiety we’d had about them.

And “fine,” of course, doesn’t make for interesting conversations, so Molly and I took a step back. We talked about what was going wrong: a sense that neither of us quite felt comfortable hitting hard enough, even though we asked players ahead of time and at the start of sessions to tell us what was off the table. A frustration that player choice had trended towards the Bride as a detective/hero and not someone embodied in a world of horror. A confusion — once again — over what it means to “shiver with terror” in a discord call with some friends online. Out of that conversation came a new idea: rather than two more one-shots, Molly took some time to charge up a spirit bomb and put together some more formal prep, then recruited a group she felt could get together for a more curated experience. She wrote up her own excellent thoughts on what went down — along with a lot of session details — but you’ll have to join the Dream Library for that.

The result of all that curation and preparation was that on October 23rd a group of four trans women — Molly, @jdragsky, our friend Mars, and I — sat down to play Bluebeard’s Bride knowing exactly what we were in for. We would be playing a transfem Bride, Bluebeard would be cis, and we would be hitting transfem-specific horror as hard as we possibly could.

I’m going to quote from Molly’s reflection, where she wrote:

“Another really great aspect of running this game for this table is there was such a clear feeling that we all understood, wordlessly, what was going on... There are some moments in Allison Rumfitt’s gothic horror novel ‘Tell Me I’m Worthless’ where it felt like the author, a trans woman, was dropping phrases knowing exactly how her transfem audience would react... This had a twofold effect of both giving the players a chilling moment but also, a very brief but appropriate separation between fiction and player where could all grimace and be together in that discomfort before pushing on. People knew what I was doing. The problem with the original game is it doesn’t really want to discuss the politics of what “feminine horror” means. Because of this you’re really lacking some focus. I think a table of cis women could actually play bluebeard’s bride in the way we did last night and have it hit hard for them if they approached it correctly, I don’t think our experience was uniquely elevated by our trans reading, however that was one of several tools we used for that elevation.”

Setting aside the strengths and weaknesses of the original text, that sense of shared experience was key to our game and key to allowing us to hit — and get hit — really hard and trust that our coplayers were there with us. Compared to our earlier efforts (prioritizing safety by taking things off the table via lines/veils) tightening the topical scope from an ambiguous “feminist horror” to a specific transfeminist horror in the context of a chaser bf, in the context of an economic disparity, in the context of the medical pressures of transition in the contemporary U.K. allowed Molly, our lovely host, to hurt us knowing that we were all in it together and choosing to play this game. It transformed the horror from an obstacle in an adventure game into a thing we were seeking out: a pleasure/pain we asked to feel.

In a games discourse that is — understandably — interested in protections which might be implemented anywhere, including at cons and home tables with much less of an art-and-politics interest, safety tools are often thought about as a negative thing, a preemptive cutting away of all the things which might end up hurting us. I think that’s part of why people can have a hard time filling out a lines/veils list in advance of a session. What are all the things in the world I’m sensitive to? What are all the contexts in which I’m sensitive to them? Good sensitive or bad sensitive? Sensitive enough to cause a scene? Sensitive enough to make it off the table?

In place of that — and in a table with a really remarkable amount of trust — this final Bluebeard session leaned in, hard, to the things that hurt us. That was the game. Molly wrote a lot about kink in her reflection, and I think she was right to do that. The point of the game was to hurt each other and to feel, and it was a better game for keeping that in mind. It was an actual horror game, and not just a game with horror aesthetics. I agree with Molly that there was nothing essential about having an all-transfem table — I think what we did could be done by anyone, even with the base Bluebeard’s Bride. What was essential was having a table where we all trusted each other enough to play a hurting game and to know that we were there on purpose. It elevated Bluebeard’s Bride into a really fascinating, messy experience — one I can’t wait to play again.

#ttrpg #ttrpgs #rpgs #bluebeard's bride #magpie games #the dream library #play report #transfem #horror

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jeneveuxrein · 1 year ago

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safety net [1/2] (BLACKPINK Rosé)

word count: 25.8K

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

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

“Hey.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Guess you’ll find out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So? What do you say?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Obviously I will.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The sooner, the better right?”

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

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

What did you get yourself into?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

At least not yet.

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

“Nayeon,” You say simply.

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

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

“Why’d you two break up anyways?”

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

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

That’s one way to put it.

“Ah well I guess so,” You shrug.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sorry, I-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck she’s coming.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No,” Shaking your head, “I insist.”

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

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

Can we meet tonight?

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

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

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

“Hello?”

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

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

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

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

Fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You honestly already planned to, but you nod anyway.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re fucked.

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

“Shit, I’m sorry,” You pull back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I suppose so.”

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

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

“Err, yes?”

“What does that mean?” You chuckle.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That tickles,” Rosie says shyly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cum,” You say simply and she does.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m so tired,” Rosie yawns.

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

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

“Of course.”

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

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

Weird, but you dismiss the feeling completely.

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

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

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

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

“Sorry,” You mumble, kissing her neck.

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

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

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

Rosie.

With Lisa right behind her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t get why you do that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I have a question.”

“Go for it.”

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

“Uh,” The question catches you off guard.

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

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

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

“Uh of course?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Cock?”

“No.”

“Penis?”

“No.”

This conversation is getting nowhere.

“Take it out,” Rosie says suddenly.

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

“No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’re you doing?”

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

“How?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sorry,” Rosie mumbles, looking away.

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

“How does it feel?” Rosie asks softly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How was that?” Rosie smirks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thanks handsome guy <3 see you around.

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

It’s stupid.

You’re stupid.

A fool, some might say.

You’re calling yourself a fool.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Lisa.”

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

And it’s not.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“With Chaeng?” Jennie raises an eyebrow.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What the fuck,” Rosie spits out.

Great. Fucking Lisa.

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

“What’s wrong?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t, but you’ll tell me anyway.”

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

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

“Yes,” Rosie says flatly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So you couldn’t cum?” You whisper.

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry,” You mean it.

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

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

“Fine. On the condition I sleep over.”

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

“Our rules?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” And that’s all you need.

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I have a business dinner with my parents.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah…” You trail off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What?

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

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

“She’s pretty. Are you two dating?”

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

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

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

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

“Do you want to hear about it?”

“I do,” Rosie nods in your periphery.

You tell her everything.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The use of we has you confused.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Same.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why?

That was something you weren’t ready to admit.

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

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

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

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

“That’s a fucking lie.”

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

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

Fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Because getting involved with Rosie was never on your mind.

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

#blackpink smut #blackpink rose #blackpink park chaeyoung #rosie smut #park chaeyoung smut #park chaeyoung

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nouvxllev · 8 months ago

Note

"When I saw you

I fell in love, and

you smiled

because you knew

-William Shakespeare"

LOVE.LOVE.LOVE.

I wanted to make a request! I had a similar interaction like this, and when I had read this, I fell inloveeeeee with this qoute sm. Can you do a Wednesday x Reader? In which it's Wednesday who actually falls inlove 😭

amore, amore, amore.

Pairing: Author!Wednesday Addams x Gn!Reader

Summary: request!! ^^

Words: 6.0k (oh what the fuck)

Warnings: told in WEDNESDAYS POV AND ALTERNATE TIMELINES!, the gomezification of wednesday addams prevails, yes they meet at a museum, also kinda 7 husbands of evelyn hugo coded, slight plottwist at the end!

a/n: aaaa ofc ofc!! also i absolutely love the idea where wednesday fell first and harder

masterlist

I believe they cursed me the moment their lips became something worth fighting for.

"If they intend to halt my publishing, then so be it. I have no interest in entertaining that brain-dead company over countless of reasons as to why I shouldn't spare a few weeks for myself who believe I will fall under their will."

"Wednesday, they're the ones who publish your books, you just can't ignore their calls."

"Barclay, has your brain deteriorated to a degree in such a way that you are forgetting it's my presence that upholds that fucking company? Without me, they are nothing. Have you forgotten with how much power I withhold over them, or have your scales reached that hollow of a brain?"

"You can't ignore the leverage they have over you, sure you have the amount of money, if not more, to sue them, but they could literally tip you off and brand you as some selfish author."

"Please do comprehensively explain to me as to why I would be a selfish author?"

"Wednesday Friday fucking Addams, it's because you're half-way across the fucking world at some fucking museum in Italy while you have a manuscript due a fucking week ago!"

"I fail to see my fault."

"Addams, if you don't get your shit together, I swear—"

I had solved countless of murders in my time of Nevermore. I had one thing to do when I finally left, and I was going to succeed.

If you had told me after I willingly left that horrid place you call an educating institution that I would experience the same fate as an author, I would've traced the outer skin of your face with a pocket knife and display it on your family's doorstep.

Barclay, amongst others, remained someone I held close. She could be infuriating, but no one would ever be much deserving of a terrible, terrible position than be under my control as my manager when I pursued writing.

But no one tells you how people could easily forget you in a matter of seconds if you don't make a name for yourself when you've put yourself out there, even if it's something far, far from your own.

I was only fortunate enough people enjoyed what I publish.

I couldn't care less if they didn't, that's why I found it hard to give two shits about what that damned company thought of my revised schedule. But I needed to make a living. To make something out of myself.

If I had continued my actions— in which I have full control over with—I could lose everything.

I could've build it up from scratch if it happened, but Lucifer knows how long would a simple idea for a plot that could get into the lack of attention span of the population could take.

I could lose the name I print on paper.

I could lose my name.

And then I realized I haven't.

There was something that I was destined to fall under. It was there with my eyes taped to a painting, not knowing I became one for another.

I hung up. The mere thought of having a multistep plan to eventually murder my manager was between God and me. That woman had me teetering on the edge of becoming a one-hit serial killer overnight.

My head tilted over a large painting towering amidst the others down the line. My hands remained tucked deep within the pockets of a trench coat far too oversized for me.

I couldn't take much time of squinting, staring as if it had garnered my interest not after a dreaded phone call that I convinced myself truly took my energy and managed to inject anesthesia inside my veins.

A light sway became evident in my steps, as if I was sulking in my own woe of what I should and could've done to prevent myself fucking it up on a company that I could soon own if not me being under the age of what is required to own a firm without having to ring up my own godforsaken of a family.

I could almost take another step if I wasn't met with another person.

Countless of papers flew across the hard-tiled floor. It was over before I knew what had happened. I found myself standing there, eyes glued to the person I collided with, my eyebrows crossed and my mouth hung open like a fool.

"I'm—I'm so sorry, fuck." They grit under their breath, like they were berating themselves while they picked up the rest of what had fell.

I stood there, not knowing what to do or what not to do but stare at them and wait for them to pull themselves up.

And so that's what I did.

I wish I hadn't.

Because now it was the time I was unable to speak. Unable to use the words I've been writing my novels with, the words that I should've spoken in the seconds they had landed in front of me. For the first time, my words had failed me.

A question rang in my head, Why do I now feel as if I do not belong inside of my own body? Why does my life feel complete now that they were here?

When Y/n fixed herself, she looked at me and smiled. I knew I looked like an idiot staring at them, yet I never went out of my way to barely fix myself.

Why were they smiling?

"Why are you smiling?" I asked under my breath, like I was taken breathless. I hadn't mean to say it out loud, but my cold and otherwise damned heart seemed to be alive, like I was suffocating in my own rate. A fool in front of them I must've been.

They looked at their paper, then they looked at me.

They smiled yet again. Another question flicked across my head, what had happened to me to act as if I would go through hell and back for this person?

They smiled at me as if my presence gave them a reason to. And they loved me in every one of it.

"Sorry—" they apologized, noticing how their thumb kept grazing the surface of their sketch, almost as if they were nervous. "You look prettier than... whatever I drew."

They stole one more look of me.

"Terrifyingly bewitching."

It's horrifying knowing I couldn't explain what I felt that day. What I know is—I felt everything.

I've endured endless remarks on my appearance ranging from a number of ratings from those nonsensical people on the internet to every synonym people have thrown my way only to fail to evoke even a flicker of emotion.

Though it seems egotistical, I knew they held one intention: they wanted to impress me. They wanted me to know they were different amongst others who have approached me. They wanted to entice me, as if I could be owned.

Were it not for the arsenal and threats I carried, there would be much more.

Y/n was different. They never had any intentions of being with me, no desire to impress or claim me as theirs. They simply wanted me to know I was. That it was true. I just had never heard it from someone who could mutter two words that felt perfect.

And it's much more terrifying knowing I unexpectedly fell first, even if I deny myself.

I could tell you about the way y/n smiled, how it seemed to threaten the sun, warning it not to shine lest it risk embarrassment in contrast of hers. I could tell you the way their eyes followed their smile, how their life was encapsulated in their drawings, mirroring what they felt.

Yet, when it comes to explaining how I fell for them, words escape me. Even I, a tortured author, struggle to describe.

How must I convey the sensation of my heart pounding in my ears as if it was trying to break me? The ache in my stomach, churning every chance it got, every fiber of my being dreadfully surrendering to them.

But one is for certain: meeting them was like coming home.

My home.

But I couldn't bring myself to realize that—It was antagonizing for me. Humiliating and mortifying knowing one person could make me become a total fool, become someone I've never thought I'd be.

I've spent my whole life after hiding what I felt for them, lest I risk experiencing what I truly loathe: love.

I despised them ever since I met them, loathed them, hated them. But for what for? I ask myself countless of times, I have never gotten an answer.

When they left, I left. Thinking it would be fate that had accidentally brought two people together who held no meaning for eachothers life, that it was a mistake, and I could've been wrong with how I'm feeling.

And when I came back, they were there.

And when I approached them, it felt right.

It was a week after the incident, but no matter how I tried, I still remember how their smile felt around me. Suffering, irritating, lovely. Like I wanted to relieve it, no matter how much time had passed.

Never once did I get their name in the span of meeting them, it was useless to know anyway.

Yet, I find myself returning to the museum every chance I get for God knows what, acting as if I had unfinished business staring at paintings while the staff rambled beside me. They were better off tattooing their explanation in my skull.

I had other places to attend to, other tasks I should've been doing rather than constantly visiting museum in the afternoon as if I have duties and low-paid labor for employment.

I should've been at my apartment days ago, exhausting myself on a half-assed manuscript I would have recurring thoughts of annihilating along with severing Bianca's hands through the phone.

What terrified me is why I was back.

Standing in front of them. My hands tucked deep inside the pockets of another trench coat, looking down on them sitting on one of the blocks of granite surrounding a oddly placed tree in the middle of the hall, drawing whatever there is to draw.

"Hello." I greeted them. They almost looked startled, surprised that I was even talking to them, like I was some vengeful ghost who returned to seek revenge. Though they weren't far off.

They looked up, immediately flipping over their clipboard as they locked eyes with me.

"Oh—" They cleared their throat, "Hi. Hey, hello." They smiled, albeit awkward. But that feeling of dread, or whatever, came back. Stronger than ever, I feared. I almost had half the mind of punching them in the gut and questioning them why they had this effect on me.

"Didn't know you come here often." A chuckle followed their question, or maybe it was a statement, placing their elbows on their lap while they gazed right at me.

I scoffed, murmuring against gritted teeth why did I even approach them in the first place. "And I didn't know you draw me that often."

I look down on the piece of paper, their deliberate and aggressive brush strokes having an effect on the paper, leaving marks upon marks. It was clear that I've been their subject for days on end. Even if I were to absent, I'd still be able to be the pinnacle of their sketches.

It was funny back then, humorous in my mind on how quick they snatched the piece of paper and tried to explain with little to no comprehension that went across their mind.

"Oh, God, no, no! I just—Okay, well, maybe I've been drawing you ever since I saw you, it's creepy now that I mention it... but it's just—it's dumb of me to not draw you, you know?" They were flustered, their mouth opening and closing only for me to receive words that were out of the dictionary.

They sighed, my lips twitched.

"I'd like to ask," My voice trailed off, grimacing even at the thought of having to initiate a conversation with more or less than five words, "What's... your name?"

"Y/N," They nodded, "L/N. Y/N/L/N." They reached out for a handshake only to immediately retract after a brief awkward seconds of staring. Their name sounded familiar.

"Why are you here?"

"Do I need to reason to?"

"I suppose so, no. But I am curious." Even I don't know why I'm still back here.

Y/n sighed, like I was the one getting on their nerves while it was me who battling against whatever fucked-up demon spawned in my stomach that caused me to feel, things.

"Nothing."

I frowned. "You came here because of.... Nothing?"

"Mhm."

"You are drawing strangers you know nothing about because of nothing?"

"Thought I made myself clear on that first word."

"You've made yourself look foolish than any average person."

"Well, you never told me your name. I think that's foolish enough over my case."

It was my turn to sigh.

"Addams." I reluctantly said to them, "Wednesday, Addams."

Then Y/n looked up at me as if I was some sort of otherworldly deity going back down to earth to finish whatever I started. "Wednesday Addams. I think I've heard that name before."

"No. No, you haven't."

If it wasn't horribly obvious, the sole purpose of my visit to Italy was to neglect everything I left behind in New York—especially deadlines— and hoped my eyes would finally work some sense that would let me start anew.

It was shameful of me, passion that dwindled into something less. If I had the chance, I would've tortured myself for even considering abandoning all of my life's work.

Though, I had my reasons. Even if I had threatened my target population and my audience, it still wouldn't be enough.

In short, I had lost motivation to pursue another book.

I felt as if there was something missing, that I couldn't even dare to even blow the collecting dust in the rims of my typewriter.

I begged for my brain to work, to even produce the slightest idea or word that could have some meaning to it. I was ready to write anything that came to mind, even if it was mediocre.

But, instead, my heart responded.

When I met Y/n, I started writing, and we started talking.

Words flowed through, and my time was wasted on Y/n.

My time was wasted, and they were wasted with their significant other.

I always thought I would suffer the thought of having to live an eternal life with none other than myself, that it was inevitable I was going to perish alone in my own woe.

It remained the same. Now, it's just having to live with the fact that my only greatest love had another.

I felt as if I ate a forbidden fruit once I heard they had someone that loved them as much as I denied myself of the same kind, like I plagued myself with hundreds of years of worry and attachment to someone who had eyes on another, a special muse they had.

Only that I would crumble immediately, tempted to take the fruit in my hands, forever stain my lips of something immoral so that I could forever crawl and weep over them.

In my time in Italy, I thought i'd be avoiding acquaintances that would be much more of a burden to me rather than someone useful. Yet there I was, watching Y/n saunter into my life like the revelation they were.

It's safe to say that Y/n turned out to be anything but a burden. They became someone I looked forward to seeing every day, though I hadn't realized they were motivation until then.

"Wends!"

Their awfully cheerful voice pierced through the air of the restaurant, almost granting the attention from other people as if they shared the same horrendous and dreadful nickname as me.

As much as I fantasized about walking out of the restaurant with y/n's half-broken jaw, I couldn't deny whatever was swirling in my head.

Ever since they knew of that wretched nickname unfortunately given to me by none other by that infectious and the ever infuriating ball of sunshine, Enid Sinclair, they've been calling me it as if I don't have a birth name.

It was a month ever since I've known Y/n, and it was a month of them being a constant presence in my life. They shared breakfast with me, lunches, and sometimes dinners that I somehow always and reluctantly accepted.

They became my routine, and it was a fact I'd sooner die with than confess to anyone.

Y/n slowly approached my table that was filled to the brim with countless of books and my oddly placed typewriter, putting their own stuff down on the seat beside them. "You're here early. You ordered something yet?"

It was 12PM. We agreed on 1, and I came at 10.

I scoffed, keeping my eyes on the typewriter. "You, of all people, should know by now that I would much rather sooner paint myself neon than touch anything on this menu."

I hear y/n setting their elbows on the table, resting their face between their hands. "Aw, c'mon Wends, it wouldn't kill you.

"Cyanide won't, but this will." I stopped writing to take one look at them, obviously and oddly, my gaze never and will never work on them. "Take my advice if you're eager to leave this restaurant with a mouth able to eat and speak."

"Ever the happiest person, Wends." They chuckled, sliding a somehow too bright and colorful menu towards them, "I'll order for you."

I stopped writing all together, "Y/n."

"Wednesday." They raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at her lips. It was over before I was even playing the game. Resistance over their lips felt futile anyway.

"Fine." I sighed, shutting my eyes closed just so that for once I can't have my stomach doing fucking acrobatics at the sight of them. "I will... allow it."

The ever-growing smile that crept up to their face was priceless, I couldn't bring myself to pry my eyes away. Murmuring something along the lines that I was too easy to lure in.

Once a waiter passed our table, Y/n ordered something along the lines of whatever the fuck 'Due Cream Soda Alla Vaniglia e Lampone con Glitter Commestibili' was. I was certain I was going to leave the restaurant with a non-working heart and a stomach turning inside and out.

It took no longer than a minute for Y/n to get a hold one of the numerous books piled infront of me. "Are you studying for something?" They asked, opening it only to close it once they noticed how outdated some of the languages are.

I let a small chuckle pass my lips. "What drives you to such a hypothesis."

They gestured to the books and my typewriter, "By how you're literally surrounded by books and you're on a fucking typewriter instead of a laptop." They pointed out, murmuring another, "Also, who the hell says hypothesis."

"People with functioning frontal lobes." I quipped, letting my fingers write on instinct across the typewriter keys as I listened to Y/n's ramblings. "I'm... writing."

"You're an author?"

"No."

"Then why—"

"Are you a painter? An artist?"

"Well... I—no?"

"Then we both don't know what we're doing."

Y/n fell silent moments after, I couldn't help but miss the sound of their voice. Admitting the mere thought aloud seemed absurd, let alone thinking it in the first place. I would've bashed my head on top of my typewriter if not for my resistance.

"How long will you be staying in Italy?" they eventually asked.

"Two more weeks," I replied. "My flight is already scheduled, I'll be leaving then on."

"Oh."

I wasn't expecting an answer anything other than a hint of happiness that I was eventually leaving their life.

"You are?" They repeated, as if they couldn't believe such a statement even escaped my lips, clear disappointment flickering across their face. "That's not... long."

"I am certainly not saying here indefinitely now that I have something to continue when I've arrived at my destination." I cleared out, doing my very best to escape the impending guilt washing over me.

"I'll miss you, Wednesday."

Their words were sincere. Lovely. It had stopped me from writing all together.

Guilt wasn't a feeling I was familiar with at the time. I rarely come across such a feeble emotion. Now it felt like I've committed something immoral. There were times that I lie for my own convenience, and nothing more than my own reason.

Now it felt like I should've lied for them.

I will forever miss you.

I wrote. I never showed them.

One week had passed and I rarely ever got to see Y/n after. Our encounters became increasingly scarce, and their voice plagued me from days on end.

I clung to the faithless hope I had that they would text me, to reach out, to even show me they're alive and well.

I returned to the museum for every day they were absent in my life, searching for any sign of their presence, but each day ended in disappointment.

Of course, fate is indifferent to my yearning, refusing to grant someone I so desperately sought.

Regret gnawed at me as the days turned into a week, and the week turned into the day before my flight.

"Addams. I've heard from others that you've been writing."

"Who others?"

"I'll spare a name to spare New York a corpse found in their sewage pipes by the time you've, hopefully I assume, returned and not jump off the plane."

"Even if I went off the grid, your nagging would've been in spirit."

"Don't flatter me."

"Don't kill yourself without showing me a video tape in full resolution for me to get through rough weeks. Or maybe take a shotgun and shoot yourself in your garage and let me have the keys to your house."

"Addams."

I sigh. "Yes, the rumors—though I would want that vampires head on a stake—are true. I've been writing."

"What happened to you there? You met someone?"

"How'd you know—No. No, I—I haven't. What makes you come to such a foolish conclusion?"

"Oh my God, someone actually managed Wednesday—I'd rather kill myself before loving anyone—Addams to fall terribly in love with them. Who's the unfortunate soul?"

"I would not be naming them because they do not exist."

"You just stuttered, Wednesday. The only thing making you stumble your words is when you're overdosing on whatever poison you're having for breakfast."

"They're no one."

"How are you such a bad liar when you have countless of bodies hidden across the globe?"

I sigh again, this time, it was out of annoyance. "I'll be hanging up. Goodbye, Barclay. If ever you are considering to kill yourself, call me. I'll be at my most happiest to watch."

"Wait, no, Wednesday! I need progress on your—"

I hung up. It was pointless to answer her calls when I was a mere few step away from boarding a plane. She always had a way of getting under my skin, even from across the damn globe.

But there was one name that would always surface in my thoughts: Y/n.

The mere thought of their name will forever remind me of how my heart wasn't programmed to love.

I reached for my phone, fingers tracing over the cold screen. My mind was tired, blank. The only thing I could ever do is stare at their contact and wish I could've done something better.

I typed out a hesitant message, my thumb hovering over the send button as if it was something that could end my world. Only two thoughts ran to my mind: Would they reply, or would my message be nothing to them?

I almost hit send before I heard footsteps approaching me.

"Y/n?"

I whispered their name, the love I carried for them being surrendered like I'd crawl for them once I reached purgatory.

"What are you doing here?" My eyebrows furrowed. How could they leave me, only to return as I was about to depart? "Why are you here, you disappeared, avoided me, why—"

"He proposed to me."

Oh.

I always thought a near-death experience with a loved one would be the deepest I could feel.

I realized I was wrong.

Now my eyes ached to the sting. Like I was weeping for someone that perished in my heart, I grieve for a living soul that was me. It was pathetic.

I expected them to be overjoyed, over the moon as they would express themselves from time to time.

But when I met their eyes, all I saw were tears streaming down their face.

Oh, how I wished to wipe their worries away.

"Then why are you crying?"

"I don't know if I love him."

"Nonsense... You told me you loved him—"

"Well, maybe I haven't been saying anything true to you!"

"Look, I don't know what I'm doing—I don't know what the hell are we doing. I'm living in some apartment with some guy I don't even know I even love, I'm currently standing here like an idiot to a girl who's just about to leave my life, and you're—"

"You're everything."

It was that moment I realized I was lost in a haze of admiration and love for Y/n.

That I was far too deep in their life that they became mine. I never knew I needed them as much when I told them to leave with me and break up with their significant other.

I never knew I needed their lips onto mine until the moment I pulled them close to me.

Now I ache of them.

"Do you regret it, mother? Being such a fool for someone, you became what you hated most. But you endured it all for them."

Wednesday Addams, seating across the bed from her daughter, Blair Addams. She looked just like you, she'd always wonder.

Wednesday sighed, her hand reaching out to gently touch Blair's. "Do you know the phrase, 'Come ti vidi M’innamorai, E tu sorridi Perchè lo sai?'" she asked softly.

"You know I've never indulged myself in whatever you're reading." She shook her head with a smile. She looked even more like you.

She let her fingers trace patterns on her hand, her gaze wandering else where. "Well, it translates to 'When I first met you I fell in love, and you smiled because you knew," she explained.

"And do you believe in that, mother?"

Wednesday could almost smile. Her daughter was always the curious one, yet she always managed to be privy of her life from them. "I always believed Y/N knew the moment we first laid eyes on each other, I fell in love with them."

"So, yes, my raven." She nodded, "I do."

"I never knew Y/n would make me their title, their theme, their muse," Wednesday pondered, "I always wondered why i fell for them."

"Falling is an accident, gullible, like with people who fail to do basic things. But I am one of those people if not more if I fell for their on accident and continued to do so."

She sat beside Blair, her legs crossed beside her. "I've never told you at the time, but Y/n was a painter. And they wanted nothing more but than to forget about their past. They have never told me as to why, but I believe them.""

"I worried that my love was violence. It was pain, it was suffering. But y/n took care of themselves, they took care of me. There is no one in the world who had loved me more than them, I fear that it would break them, that I am deemed no longer someone who is a part of their story."

"Yet here we are."

Wednesday couldn't see the smile creeping from her daughters lips. But she knew it was there, just like how you looked like before. She will always and forever take pride in it.

She always thought her greatest love could be something of a passion, a talent, a hobby perhaps.

But no one told her it could be a person.

Blair stretched and turned on a light beside her bed, opening a drawer and taking out two of Wednesday's books. "Must they be the reason your books has been off to your prior ones, mother? You've written all your life of gore and mystery. Now it's romance."

"Well, I—"

"Oh, I'm definitely the reason why your mother has been subtly—not-so-subtly, switching to the romance genre."

You peered through the door, your body wrapped up in a cozy boritto style and everything with a train draping it's way to your back like some met-gala dress.

"Oh, mon chéri," Wednesday's face lit up at the sight of you, immediately standing up and pulled you close, her arms enveloping you in a warm embrace.

Her lips met yours in soft kisses, leaving the taste of faint vanilla chapstick lingering on your lips. "Why are you up so late?"

"Well," You grinned against her lips, "I felt our bed getting cold and to my surprise my wife isn't nowhere near me. You know how I can't sleep without you." She pulled away, you whined at the lost of contact, but you couldn't smile more brightly as she led you towards your daughter. "G'evening, Blair."

"Evening, Y/n." She greeted you before you kissed her on the forehead.

You leaned against Wednesday's shoulder, whispering softly, "You're telling her our story again?"

Wednesday would've thought her small chuckle went unnoticed, but you definitely heard it. The stupid smile on your face told everything.

Her hand found yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. "She loves it."

"You love it, mother. Probably more than me." Blair retorted back, evident that she was holding back a laugh.

"I do not! When did I ever—"

"Oh, honey, you know love turns your mother into a girl version of your abuelo.

"Do not ever refer to me as my love drunk father or I will subject you to sleeping on the couch." Wednesday rolled her eyes, pinching the back of your palm. "And please do not shame my work of referring to it as such. I've worked hard day and night yet you proceed call it by such an exasperate—"

You turned your head and pressed a kiss on her cheek, the same spot where her freckles resided, causing her to pause mid-sentence. After atleast ten years of being with her, it always made you so giddy.

"Not even in marriage am I spared by your passive aggressive comments," you teased, your lips curling into a smile as you leaned in closer to her.

You hear your daughter sigh after a brief second, "Addams."

Wednesday almost looked shocked, "My Raven, do not call us by our last—"

"Please exit my room. I'll be going to sleep."

And then, the both of them were shoved off before they could even hug their daughter and kiss her goodnight like they always did.

"I... We were rejected, Y/n." Wednesday exclaimed, like she just got struck with the most heartbreaking news. "She used to love our stories together when she was an infant."

You'd think Wednesday was the non-chalant mom who's strict on her child. But, to your surprise, she was the opposite.

She loved Blair just as much she loved you. Hell, you even considered just maybe, maybe not, disowning your daughter because she gets Wednesday's attention more than you do.

You shrugged, taking her hand and leading her to your upstairs bedroom. "It gets stale once in a whileeeOW!" You winced as Wednesday pinched the back of your palm, again. It was starting to become her love language at this point.

"I'm just kidding!" You reassured her, intertwining your fingers with hers as you walked up the stairs together, pulling the door open for your wife. "She's just in her rebellious teen phase, let it go."

Wednesday rolled her eyes, "Too cliche."

"You used to have one too," you scoffed, settling onto your side of the bed and watching as she laid down on hers.

It was a routine you found yourself often doing, taking in the sight of your beloved as if your life with Wednesday was all a dream. You pinch yourself like almost thrice a day just to really make sure.

"Since when?" Wednesday asked, raising an eyebrow in amusement, quietly shuffling towards you.

You sat up for a moment to undo her braids. You always liked playing with her hair, and that one time she asked of you to undo hers, it became a routine. "Since the beginning of time. And somehow, you never grew out of it."

"You didn't even meet me in my teenage years. I am far from rebellious."

"Yes, baby, but not too far from a death penalty." You chuckled, reaching out to gentle stroke her hair, leaning in to press a soft kiss against her forehead.

"Oh, you flatter me," she replied, a smirk across her lips, but the room was too dim to even notice it.

By now, if you were any ordinary person, Wednesday would've made you disappear entirely. But, the thing is, Wednesday always seemed to look at you as if her life never really started until she found you.

Silence managed to take over the atmosphere, you laid back on the comfortable mattress, feeling Wednesday's head nestled on your arms that were tucked under her hair.

You could almost fall asleep in pure bliss knowing that you've met and loved the girl of your dreams if not for her calling out for you.

"Amore." She whispered.

"Amore?" She whispered again, her voice softer than ever before.

You blinked, momentarily. You swore you just heard an angel. "Yes, amore?"

"Can I... Can you—"

You smiled, almost too knowingly. You knew Wednesday, for someone who's such a romantic soul, she's not too expressive on simple terms like these. "Do you want to be the little spoon?"

She grimaced, you could even hear her grunts of disapproval. "I would highly refrain from calling it that before I jump out of bed and skin you from limb to limb. But... yes, I would like to."

A soft chuckle escaped your lips at her response, suppressing a grin to avoid from literally being murdered as you wrapped your arms around her and pulled her close.

Ten years before, if someone had told you that you're going to be doing this to girl you've met at a museum while trying to escape your past, let alone be happily married to her, you would've told them "How the fuck do you know that and please stay away, I have... a boyfriend. I guess."

But now, it seemed so believable. Wednesday was always so relaxed in your arms, your warmth and hers bringing a sort of comfort for the both of you.

You nuzzled your head against the back of her neck, gently moving strands of her hair aside as you pressed soft kisses against her skin, hoping to kick away her tension from the day.

"Stop pouting, Wends," you murmured softly into her skin as you closed your eyes in pure relief.

You hear her scoff, "I am not doing such a humiliating act."

"Oh but you so are." Your grin widening as you pressed another gentle kiss against her nape, "I can hear it from here."

Wednesday let out a sigh, of annoyance? Maybe. But was it tinged with pure adoration and love? Much so. "You don't hear pouts, Y/n."

"When it comes to you, I do and I can."

Silence washed over. This time, you're worried you've teased her that much, she actually got annoyed with you.

"You're awfully quiet. By this time, you're probably threatening to kill me."

"I'm... Sorry." Wednesday whispered, it has an undying tone of tenderness that you don't often see it being expressed through words from her. Slowly, she shifted her body to face yours.

One thing is for certain: She was still so terrifyingly bewitching if not more. She looked pretty in every way possible, it's hard to even believe, it left you in awe.

You feel her gaze darting on your eyes and then drifting down to your lips, hesitating even. It was ridiculous, in the most adorable way possible there is for an Addams like her.

"May I kiss you?"

"You know you're always welcome. It's pointless to ask."

She was the first to reach out, her hand finding it's way to the curve of your cheek, her touch gentle than ever as she traced the line of your jaw as if she was memorizing every feature of yours.

You cupped her face in reciprocation, leaning in closer to where your lips were just hovering inches away from hers. Then, you closed the space between the both of you.

You pulled away, your eyes meeting hers with a soft smile. It was impossible to think that this woman held your heart in her hands like it was nothing.

"Have I ever told you that you're pretty?" you whispered, letting your hands fall to her waist and pulled her close.

"Ever since you've met me."

“You know, I’m surprised you even remember our first meeting.”

“Oh, how could I ever forget my lover?”

You laughed, a symphony that always gets Wednesday to have a slight tug in her lips. “Stop being so romantic. You are a grown woman with a daughter.”

You continued to stare into her eyes as you drape the rest of the blanket for the both for you. "It's hard to think you're the first one to fall in love and not me."

"It's hard to think of anything when you're here with me, te amo." Wednesday replied, her gaze softening almost immediately.

You sighed. "You know I love you, right?"

Wednesday blinked. "I always will."

You smiled.

And Wednesday smiled back.

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a/n: this was longer than i thought. i yap too much in stories i fear

#wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x gnreader #wednesday addams x gn!reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x female reader

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skippydiesposting · 4 months ago

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it's been four and a half years since I became obsessed with Skippy Dies and I still get goosebumps thinking about it on a daily basis. that's a kind of love I don't think very many people have experienced. I'm still totally baffled that it even exists and it's even more amazing that I found it at exactly the right time. maybe magic and cosmic intervention is real

I know that this is a silly place to say this because hopefully it's obvious but it really is impossible to overstate how much of my time is spent thinking about this goddamn book

#i found it 10 years after it was published which feels so late to the party....#but also i have no idea if it would have hit me the same way if i read it as a teenager #i really can't explain how much it reflected my experience at the time i was reading it in early 2020 #skippy dies literally got me through the worst time in my life #and I'm still learning and realizing new things about it all the time #🍩#skippy dies

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wildlavendermoon · 6 months ago

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Just a summer thing

⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆

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pairing. Ethan Landry x fem!reader

warnings. Fluff, swearing, mention of blood

summary. You decide to spend your summer as a camp counselor and meet another camp counselor Ethan Landry whom you quickly catch interest in and so does he

a/n. The characters are from the Scream universe but there's no Ghostface involved. I'm actually thinking about doing another part let me know what you think this is the first fic I'm publishing here! please do not repost.

Pt2 here

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was just the beginning of the summer, and you could still feel the heat slowly rising. It was your first summer being a camp counselor at Camp Moondale you didn’t know anybody; it was a new experience, and you hoped to get out of your comfort zone.

As the scent of wood lingers in the air, you take in your surroundings, which you will become familiar with over the next month.

The room was packed with other counselors. You sat by the window, listening attentively to a tall guy with blue eyes and dark hair. He welcomes everyone and explains the rules of the camp, his face is very serious, but he has a charming side that doesn’t make him cold or irritating.

A girl with black hair and freckles is sitting next to a tall muscular guy with a big smile, and a girl with short curly hair looks at him disappointed.

Then your eyes meet with brown eyes; he has a little smile and curly brown hair. You look at him for a few seconds, then look away, flustered. Your attention goes back to the head counselor, whose name is AJ

“Well, if you don't have questions, we can move on and put you in your assigned cabin”

You soon learn you will be in the squirrel cabin with the two girls you saw earlier. The brunette comes up to you with a big smile

“Hi, I'm Tara It's nice to meet you and this is Mindy” she points to the taller girl next to her

“Hey, I hope you don't snore or anything, right?”

A small chuckle comes out of your mouth

“No worries, I don't. I'm y/n, by the way”

Mindy smiles at you

“Is this your first time here ?”

“Yeah actually... I’ve never done this before”

Tara looks at you with a reassuring smile

“It’s quite fun here; it's going to be a great summer, trust me!”

Mindy has one hand on her hip with a little grin. “I hate to admit it, but it's not that horrible, and we come back every year with my twin brother.” She points at the tall, muscular guy with a varsity jacket; he moves toward you with a dazzling smile and says,

“Hey, I'm Chad, and this is my roommate Ethan!”

You smile back at him and see the guy with whom you exchanged looks earlier behind him. Mindy puts a hand on your shoulder.

“This is y/n she's at our cabin, and she's our new friend”

Ethan flashes a smile and simply says hi. His eyes are dark, but you could easily lose yourself in them for hours. He has a defined jawline, and overall, he is very attractive. Your heart skips a beat the second he looks toward you.

Then Tara interrupts you in your daydreaming: “We better get going to our cabin now; see you later, boys!”

Tara grabs your arm, and you three walk to the cabin. You unpack your bags and talk with the girls, trying to get to know each other.

As the sun sets and the night breeze hits your neck, you walk towards the campfire, where all the camp counselors are. You can hear some laughter and fire crackling in the distance. You sit next to Mindy and, a girl with black hair with some blond streaks. Furthermore, you look up and see Ethan sitting in front of you, talking to Chad, as the fire warms your face. You haven't had the chance to talk to him yet; all the girls have told you is that he is a big horror movie fan, and he is a bit shy.

Your conversation with Mindy gets more joyful and you get to know Anika the girl next to you, but you can't help yourself with some glances at Ethan. Feeling the tension between Anika and Mindy you decide to leave them alone, you see Tara and Chad cuddling up and decide to approach the fire.

As you look in the distance you hear footsteps behind you, Ethan emerges and sits next to you you look up at him

“What are you doing all alone?” he asks

“I think Mindy and this girl are flirting with each other and I didn't want to interrupt anything”

“Yeah I kinda feel like the third wheel when Chad and Tara are together”

You chuckle softly

“How long have you guys known each other?”

“Um It’s been less than three years I think, I moved in with Chad and I've been part of the group ever since”

“And you go to this camp every summer?”

“Yes basically it's just really cool to go here together”

“Well it's cute that you have each other”

He looks at you more attentively

“Why did you decide to go here?”

“I just needed something new…I just wanted to change my mind you know?”

He nods and doesn't insist on it, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

"Besides this place is very cute it’s kind of refreshing”

“Doesn’t it scare you the woods?”

“Well as long as Jason doesn’t crawl from them I’m good” you chuckle and he looks at you surprised

“Wait you like horror films?”

“Guilty! It’s my nerdy side”

“Well, I’m a pretty big nerd when it comes to horror movies too!”

You smile at him glad that you could make a conversation with him after dying to talk to him all day.

You and Ethan talked about horror movies all night until you went back to your cabin. You waved goodnight to him before going to sleep, unable to stop smiling about the day.

The first few days were pretty relaxed, with activities around the camp with the kids and getting to know everyone better. You often talked to Ethan late at night.

The heat today was intense, making your skin feel like it was melting. You smelled like sweat and sunscreen. Naturally, everyone decided to freshen up and go swim in the lake. The kids were excited, and you couldn't hide your excitement either. You notice Chad playfully fighting with Tara in the distance. As you turn your head, you catch a glimpse of Ethan in his swimsuit and shirtless. You slowly take in his ripped physique, unable to look away from his abs. The temperature seems to rise suddenly, and then he notices you and smiles. The group starts heading into the water, and you decide to join them.

Everyone was enjoying the moment and laughing playing games in the water, and then you were alone with just Anika

“You know Ethan was checking you out!” she says playfully

You open your mouth a little surprised“No you're lying!”

“I'm not! He can't stop looking at you” playing with her eyebrows

“Really?” you smirk

“I can assure you he only got eyes for you”

She points with her head behind you

You look behind you and see Ethan with Chad and you catch him looking at you

“What should I do?” you say to Anika

“Maybe you should try a move on him and see how he reacts. But be subtle not too forward!”

“I will try that thanks Ani”

You swim back to the group but it's just you Ethan as the two couples go do their own thing.

“It's just me and you again!”

“Yes, are we like the 5th and 6th wheel?” you laugh

“Do you not like spending time with me y/n?” he teases

“It’s like torture you can't even imagine!” you tease him

He acts offended faking a pout

“Oh really?”

You nod and he decides to splash you

You're surprised at first but then attack him back as you two act like kids playing in the water.

After a few minutes, you say “I'm thirsty I'm going to get some soda you want some?”

“Sure let’s go!”

Ethan gets out of the water first picking a soda from the cooler, as you get on the ladder you feel something scratching on your knee you hiss in pain.

Chad notices it and sees blood on your knee

“Are you okay? shit your bleeding” he helps you out picking you up, Ethan rapidly makes his way to you

“What happened? Are you hurt ?”

As you look at your bleeding knee in pain you say “fuck I think a nail from the ladder scratch me or something”

“You are bleeding a lot let me take you to the nursery” he puts a towel on you and hands you your shirt.

“Let me help you” he puts his arms around you helping you walk to the nurse office of the camp.

You walk into the quiet room and sit on the bed, putting on your shirt and feeling the cold air. Ethan looks around for something to clean you up with. You glance at Ethan and appreciate how caring he is, taking care of you. He sits in front of you, applying antiseptic on a cotton ball and gently approaching your wound.

"Thankfully, it doesn't look too severe, there's just a lot of blood," he says. You flinch in pain as the antiseptic stings your wound. "I'm sorry," he says.

"Not your fault, Ethan," you reply. You gaze down at him, admiring him. He is still shirtless, and you notice his freckles and moles spread all over his chest.

"You've got moles and freckles everywhere," you gently trace them. He looks up at you, smiling, and you can't help but admire his brown eyes. "Your eyes have a little bit of yellow in them, it's almost golden in the sun," you say. Ethan's cheeks blushed a little, and you could swear you heard his heart pounding. After he finishes cleaning the wound, he puts a band-aid on it, gently caressing your knee.

“Why do you have so many bruises?" he asks.

"I'm a little clumsy," you laugh.

"I see that," he chuckles softly. He is still caressing your knee, and with his other hand, he puts a strand of your hair behind your ear. Your hair is still wet, and his touch is warm.

Your stomach is all in knots as you look into each other's eyes, feeling the tension between you and Ethan, wanting to taste him.

It has to be broken. Suddenly, Ethan traces your lips with his thumb; he is dangerously approaching them now, just a few centimeters between the two of you.

Your lips meet his, your right hand is in his hair, and your left one is grazing his jaw, feeling the butterflies in your stomach.

His hand is still on your knee, caressing it gently. As the kiss deepens, he puts his hand on your waist, pulling you closer to him. You let out a gasp, which allows him to push his tongue inside your mouth.

He pulls you closer until you are sitting on his lap, kissing his neck. He lets out a little whimper as he strokes the sides of your hips.

You stroke his bare chest, feeling his muscles. It is now your turn to whimper as he kisses your neck and whispers in your ear, “Feeling better?”

“Much better; thank you, nurse,” you whisper back.

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x you #ethan landry x y/n #scream 6 #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry fanfiction #ethan landry fluff #jack champion #jack champion imagine #jack champion x reader #scream imagine #camp counselor

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storm-angel989 · 4 months ago

Note

🎀IM SORRY FOR BLOWING UP YOUR INBOX! But Val/Vox(idrc which one) x Anorexic Daughter Reader?🎀

PLEASE READ BEFOREHAND

Hi Friend,

You’re not blowing up my inbox- I keep every request in a google doc and when inspo hits I work on it! If I ever decide I won’t do a request I won’t just delete it- I’ll post and say it directly <3

Preface for this work:

I’m considered a plus sized equestrian/plus sized human. Eating disorders come in all shapes, sizes and issues. I believe it’s Blythe Barid who said “If you develop an eating disorder when you are already thin to begin with you go to the hospital. If you develop an eating disorder when you are not thin to begin with, you are a success story.”

Stories like these are based on my own experiences and issues- and on this topic, I’ve had quite a few. Please remember that all bodies are worthy of love and respect, care and concern. It's a tough concept to wrap our heads around, and admittedly I still struggle with it.

A little background info:

ED’s are a huge part of my writing that I haven’t published. Ana and Mia are characters I have created (or maybe my own food issues created them). Either way, they’re separate entities for separate stories- demons that I imagine have their own place in hell as well as in my writings (all of which have been in existence far longer than Hazbin). That being said, naming your ED is something I did and I have done. Even for the purpose of writing this story, the entire thing felt wrong without Ana running the behind the scenes.

With this one I tried to pain the pain, the anger and frustration behind that never feeling good enough feeling. I would be open to doing part two if folks would be interested. Please also know I’ve written on this topic in several other forms if you explore my masterlist (or I can directly send you the links if you PM me).

<3 Mandy

I stepped on the bathroom scale and looked at the number that flashed below. The words of my coach echoed in my mind- I needed to lose the summer weight, or else I would be benched for the rest of the season. She had helpfully provided me with a journal to keep track of my weight, what I ate in a day, activities I did and how many calories I burned in accordance with my VoxTech watch.

A month ago, I had met her goal, thus ending the weekly weigh-ins. According to her, I had lost enough weight to maintain my place on the team. It was on me now to make sure that I maintained that weight, or lost more. In her exact words, you could never be too skinny.

“Bebita? Breakfast,” my fathers voice called from the hallway. “Come on, before it gets cold.”

The number told me I hadn’t gained weight, but I hadn’t lost weight either. I picked my backpack up and slung it over my shoulder.

“Sorry, Dad! I’m late! I’ll eat at school, I promise,” I answered back as I rushed out the door.

Surely skipping breakfast wouldn’t hurt.

Skipping breakfast turned into skipping lunch. Skipping lunch turned into avoiding dinner. Sugar free jello and skinny pop became my go to snacks as the numbers in my book slowly but surely began to get smaller. Somewhere, a little voice inside my head began to cheer my successes on the scale. Over time, I learned that she had a name.

Ana. My secret diet partner. My invisible cheerleader. The willpower I needed to keep going on the hardest days. And most importantly, someone who paid attention to me,

With each passing day, Ana grew louder. She encouraged me to keep my diet a secret from my family. After all, they wouldn’t understand. Pleasing her, it became almost like an addiction- a game I played with myself to see just how little I could become. Food became nothing more than numbers, an obsession that consumed every minute, every second of my thoughts and desires.

In my household, it wasn’t hard to keep it to myself. Hell, one could argue that I wasn’t technically even keeping it a secret. My father had a very important job, after all. And my Auntie Velvette and Uncle Vox also wouldn’t have had the opportunity to make the connection. A quick, I ate earlier, sorry! And I got off scott free. Ana cheered with each no thank you I uttered. My head between my knees after practice had become a ritualistic practice. Waiting for the black spots to fade, taking deep breaths to try to regain the energy to stand up and walk out to the awaiting limo. It wasn’t like there was anyone waiting at home for me anyway.

On the daily, I kept a careful eye on my voxtech watch. The first time my blood sugar dropped, I got a call from Vox. Paniced waves rushed through me. A suggestion from Ana to bribe to a friendly tech demon. A brief trade later, I had constant vitals being sent from my watch, my real ones hidden behind a password. With this newfound freedom, outside of homework and practice, my time normally devoted to hobbies or hanging out with friends became time to sleep. After all, I was working on the perfect body. I needed my rest.

For almost six months, Ana and I were best friends.

Saturday morning. Game day. One of the busiest days for my father. After all, lust and depravity raked through the weekends like wildfire. Or at least, that was what he claimed. I stood in front of the mirror trying desperately to tighten the drawstring

“Hey bebita?” I heard my fathers voice call from the hallway. “Baby, are you up?”

“Yeah, Dad. I have a game today,” I snapped as I tied another knot in the string.

Why the fuck wouldn’t these stupid shorts stay up? I fumed to myself. Every part of my body ached, and even yanking on my shorts sent black spots and exhaustion rushing through my body. I leaned my head against the mirror and tried to take a deep breath. I could do this. I had to do this.

The next thing I heard was my fathers voice, felt his hand shaking my shoulder. It took every ounce of energy to open my eyes.

“Bebita? Reader, can you hear me?” Valentino asked frantically. “Princessa, wake up, now!”

“I’m fine,” I muttered as loudly as I could. Somehow, I managed to push myself upright.

“You most certainly are not fine,” he replied sharply. “I’m taking you downstairs to the doctor, right now.”

Doctor. That meant I would miss the game. No, I had an obligation to my teammates. Somewhere in my head, Ana screamed.

Get up, fatass!

You really want to fuck this up for everyone?

You better not let him take you to the doctor, you do that and you’ll never find perfection.

“I’m fine,” I growled, louder this time. I pulled myself to my feet and black spots dotted my vision. I felt my fathers arms around me and in seconds, I was off the floor and in his arms.

“Put me down, I can walk,” I tried to yell. Inside my head, Ana screamed louder, demands and insults about my current predicament. I pressed my hands to my head and curled my fingers in my hair, “Dad let me down NOW!”

He ignored me as he carried me down the hallway.

“Vox? Velvette? Both of you, with me. Now. We have a problem.” He said loudly.

“Woah, what’s going….” Vox’s voice began.

I shoved my hand against my father as he walked through the living room. To my relief, he set me down on the couch.

“What?” I snarled as three sets of eyes stared at me. “What the fuck are you looking at?”

Vox checked his phone and then walked over to me. With one finger, he lifted off my Voxtech watch.

“Hey! Give that back!” I demanded. “I’m going to be late to my game!”

All three of them ignored me. Wordlessly, Velvette walked away and returned moments later, bathroom scale in hand. She set it infront of the couch and gave me a hard look.

“Step on.”

“Fuck you,” I snapped as I stood up. I tried to ignore the black spots that danced just out of sight. “My weight is none of your fucking business.”

“Reader!” Valentino said in dismay. “That’s no way to talk to your Aunt.”

“I’m leaving, I’m already late. Thanks, Dad,” I continued sarcastically as I kicked the scale aside.

Inside, Ana cheered. I bent down to pick up my backpack and the world around me spun. Three steps, and Vox’s hand gripped my upper arm. The last thing I heard was Ana’s voice screaming indistinguishable words.

When I came to again, I found myself in a room of gray and blue. Wires stuck out from my chest, and I tried to cough and spit the feeling of something painful in the back of my throat. I tried to reach up, to shove my fingers down my throat, and my skin met padded white cuffs.

What the fuck?

You’re going to have to work hard to get yourself out of this one, Ana taunted. Great job getting caught, fatass.

“Hey, baby, it’s alright, Papi is here,” I heard my father’s voice say somewhere far away.

“Mr. Valentino, I promise we’ll be in touch when she’s more stable,” a new voice said. “For now, it might be best to give her some space to…”

Indistinguishable arguments. My fathers refusal and reminder of who exactly was in charge here. My Uncle Vox and Aunt Velvette chiming in, a mix of talking him down and agreement.

Panic shot through me as the haze slowly began to wear away. Realization. Through the fog, only one word came to mind.

Fuck.

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genderfluid-culture-iss · 10 months ago

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for the baby genderfluid tips!!

this could just be me lmao, but DO NOT donate your fem clothes if you feel masc for longer than usual. or vice versa.

keeping a gender journal is something that can be really helpful to actually look back on and see how it changes (and also have proof of fluidity for when you begin to think "hmm actually im just a trans girl. nothing else." no, you probably aren't. you felt completely boy/nonbinary/etc just a month ago, and thats okay.)

basically it can be really hard to embrace that your gender is not static, especially if your gender stays stable for a slightly longer period. it took me so long to stop rotating between "im a girl always" "no, im a boy always" "actually, im nonbinary always" to just admit im genderfluid.

also, make genderfluid content. you don't have to show it to anyone, but sometimes it can really help to make poetry or art or write a story about being fluid and your experience in particular. i have an easy avenue for this since i write fanfiction (haven't published any of it yet lmao) and i just hit my favorite characters with my genderfluid beam and go nuts

follow people who are genderfluid, read genderfluid books, maybe join a genderfluid discord server (there are barely any, so actually maybe make one), try to make genderfluid friends. you are not alone, even though it sometimes feels that way.

if you have plushies or anything similar, make them genderfluid. i have a genderfluid squishmallow who i use she/they pronouns for, and a little husky that switches between he/she. idk it just helps sometimes lol

some of us change gender daily, or multiple times a day. some of us change gender only a couple times a year, or even less. we're all different and that's fine.

tips for presentation:

if you have a day when you can't figure out gender, go neutral clothing-wise

take little things to ease dysphoria if you switch when you're out somewhere (ex. lipgloss, eyeliner, leather bracelet, etc)

if you can, get pronoun pins. seriously, get pronoun pins (or a colored bracelet for subtlety or if you're not out). you can wear multiple at a time, you can switch them whenever you need to. you aren't a burden if your pronouns change. you don't have to stick to they/them to be easy for people.

if you can, get a versatile hairstyle that you can make suit your gender no matter what. if you cant, try to get a hairstyle that makes you the least dysphoric overall.

if you are organized enough, separate your clothes based on gender/what you feel comfy wearing on different days. do not pressure yourself to fit stereotypes. some people can only feel comfortable in skirts when theyre boys, so they only wear skirts on boy days. do what works for you.

it's kinda complicated, but if you can expand your vocal range to sound more fem or masc depending on how you feel, it can help. alternatively, vocal train to make it more androgynous.

keep makeup wipes with you in case you need to take it off part way through being out. basically, make it as easy as possible to be able to change/tweak your presentation if necessary.

this could just be me, but having lots of hoodies in different colors and styles will save your life

sometimes you might have "blender days", which is what i call it when your gender feels like its in a blender in a bad way and you can't tell at all what it is, everything feels wrong, it's changing like every 10 minutes, etc. tbh on these days all i can do is put on sweats and a hoodie and feel dysphoric. listen to music if it helps. do a hobby.

non-clothing items can help a lot. a blue tshirt and jeans can be whatever you want it to be based on what you wear it with. (ex. sneakers/ballet flats, leather bracelet/sparkly necklace, baseball cap/eyeliner)

and lastly: YOU ARE AMAZING. keep being you, keep being incredible, and know that being genderfluid is a gift. be proud to be who you are, have fun, know that you are unique and special and wonderful!! we're ever-changing, and that's awesome. you are precious. i love you.

🩷🤍💜🖤💙

dont wanna link my tumblr, but my name is kiley if you want to attach a name to this!

Okay this is a lot more than I was expecting LMAO /pos

Thank you so much for this Kiley <33 I’ll start working on a masterpost with links to all this.

#genderfluid #genderfluid culture is #genderfluid culture #lgbtq #lgbtqia #lgbtq+#anon #anonymous #Genderfluid tips #Baby genderfluid tips #Genderfluid help

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genevievefangirl · 26 days ago

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Gen's Top 100 DBDA Fics - PART 9

For all caveats/rules/backstory, please read the Master Post

The Manuscript of Real People By: paraph @paraphwrites Rating: M Tags: AU - Boarding School, Angst, Slow Burn, Pining, Unfinished Summary: Britain, 1976. Three years into boarding at Saint Hilarion's School, Edwin Paine is assigned Charles Rowland as a roommate. - Featuring: mistakes better made, days hidden in libraries, and no rafter left unwandered. also featuring: charles doing sport and edwin being gay for it, edwin being a nerd and charles being gay for it, and me pretending i know what boarding schools are like! My Notes: The darker boarding school that is universally beloved! This fic is honestly publish worthy. I love every word, sentence, and chapter. When it updates I RUN to read it and gush about it on the DBDA Haunt server with everyone else who is equally obsessed. When a new chapter drops, it is an event! (Also this is one of 2 unfinished fics that made the list, if that doesn't show how much I love it I don't know what will!)

The Many Forms of Phantoms By: thegirlofthorns @edwinspaynes Rating: T Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Orbs Summary: Suddenly, there was a blast of light where Edwin was sitting. Charles dropped the comic to look at his friend, but Edwin was gone. In his place was a ball that glowed white, with some blue undertones reflecting off the surface. “Edwin!?” Charles threw the comic and ran over to the desk. “Edwin!” He picked up the little glowing ball in his hands and assessed it. It was odd – Charles could feel the orb, smooth like a perfect stone, and… warm. He had not felt temperature in over a year, and the orb was distinctly radiating warmth. “Edwin?” His voice was soft now. “Is that… you?” - Or, it's 1990, and Edwin involuntarily becomes a spirit orb for the first time. My Notes: Orb lore! Orb lore! Edwin turning into Orbwin unexpectedly and Charles and him trying to figure out what is all means is very entertaining.

the phantoms here will never have their fill By: ahyperactivehero (ahyperactiverhero) @ahyperactivehero Rating: T Tags: AU - Canon Divergence, Protective Charles Rowland, Protective Edwin Payne, Hurt/Comfort, Whump, Hurt Edwin Payne, Slow Burn Summary: Poltergeists are created when a ghost experiences extreme emotional distress. Poltergeists are notoriously hard to reign in, and they almost never gently move on. Neither Edwin nor Charles ever imagined it would happen to them. Basically, five times where the Dead Boy Detective Agency dealt with the threat of a poltergeist. XXX “Once you choose to go down the poltergeist route there is no coming back,” Edwin said. “And I will have no choice but to follow you.” “You can’t do that mate,” Charles said. His voice had cleared up some, his form less wavy. “Then do not go where I cannot follow,” Edwin said. My Notes: This was one of my first fic obessions when I joined the fandom. The ideas that it poses about poltergeists have been referenced by many other authors and are truly foundational fanon at this point. Plus it has Charles protecting Edwin many times which I love!

The Problem of Forever By: RB (BlueflowersandWings) @writerofstuff Rating: T Tags: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Protective Charles Rowland, Case Fic, Kind of Summary: At first, it is subtle. — Or: a ghost couple comes to them with a case. Unfortunately for all parties involved, it does not go well. My Notes: I love how both the boys have to address insecurities to grow in their relationship. Charles being worried he's going to hurt Edwin and be like his dad hurts me deeply and Edwin worrying about being annoying hits too close to home.

The Seventh Circle of Hell By: chewingrocks Rating: G Tags: Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Soulmatism, Protective Charles Rowland Summary: Charles goes down to Hell to rescue Edwin, however he ends up stumbling across one of Edwin's many corpses. My Notes: Is it bad that Charles crying over one of Edwin's dead body stuck with me so much? I don't think so! Sad Charles thinking Edwin is dead makes me *feel things*.

the taste in your mouth By: greenaerie Rating: M Tags: AU - Canon Divergence, Dubious Consent. Hurt/Comfort, Protective Charles Rowland, Protective Edwin Payne Summary: An unexpected attack from Esther shocks the Dead Boy Detective Agency, taking Charles out of commission. Edwin solves this the only way he can. A good detective does what they must, after all. My Notes: Basiclly what would have happened if Edwin decided to take the Cat King's original offer. The complicated consent issue here is really well addressed and I like how confused Edwin's feelings are about the whole interaction.

The Veil Between Our Love By: Mayarenerose @acediscowlng Rating: G Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Protective Charles Rowland Summary: “Edwin,” he calls out. There’s a ball of anxiety knotted deep in his gut. It’s stupid. Edwin probably just went into the other room or something. Ghosts don’t have feet, not really. And Edwin does his best, but his default is still to be as quiet as possible and not make a single sign that he exists at all. Back then, it had been fine, yeah? Just one of Edwin’s quirks that Charles had gotten used to. After Hell, though, it’s one of those things that drives Charles absolutely mental that he could never ever mention to Edwin ever. “Edwin mate, where have you gone? I promise I haven’t touched anything.” No answer. Charles is alone. Charles touches a cursed veil that makes Edwin disappear. He does not handle the separation well. My Notes: This is a recent addition to my favorites, but DAMN did it break my heart the first time. Seeing Charles freak out about not seeing Edwin initially was great, but then the angst continues and scratches the itch in my brain perfectly.

The Warmth of you By: Superfriki Rating: NR Tags: Sickfic, Feelings Realization, First Kiss, Fluff, Cuddling & Snuggling, Protective Charles Rowland Summary: “Normally it’s me who gets us in dangerous situations by tripping on something. Don’t steal my thing, mate” Edwin weakly chuckled, sounding raspy “Excuse me, next time I will make sure I ask your permission before I fall face first into a toxic plant” - Aka Charles takes care of Edwin when he is sick and realizes some things along the way. My Notes: Features Edwin passing out and Charles using books to help him! Plus all the usual sick fic things that we all love (blankets, caring, reading, etc!)

The Way Back Home By: Author_By_Many_Names @steampunk-dandy Rating: M Tags: AU - Star Wars, Edwin is Force Sensitive, Charles is a piolet, Protective Charles Rowland, Protective Edwin Payne Summary: Whilst on a routine mission that slowly becomes less and less routine, Edwin realises he can't hide his feelings for Charles any more. Meanwhile, Charles wants Niko and C to get off the ship so him and Edwin can go back to their blissfully domestic lives. My Notes: Star Wars AU! The worldbuilding here is so well done and I love what the author did with each of the characters. Edwin being force sensitive in particular makes me very happy!

There's No Fixing Some Things By: qwanderer @qwanderer Rating: T Tags: Angst, Post-Canon Summary: "Stop that right now," Charles snapped. "You can't say that, Edwin, you can't." Edwin blinked at him, startled. "You said I could talk to you about anything," he said, quietly confused. "Well, not that," Charles said, standing up and hefting his bag. My Notes: The reason why Edwin can't say what he said will knock you over. It certainly made me have so many *feelings*

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wings-of-ink · 1 month ago

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Mini progress report, some ramblings and Patreon planning

Hello all! I just wanted to drop a note and check in. I haven't been around as much lately as I've had some busy things in my personal life going on (all good things, btw), and they've made me a bit sleepy. I have some asks baking in my inbox, but I will attend to them when I've got the energy saved up.

For now, I am still working on chapter 5 and she is a biggie. I do not know when the update will go through. I had hoped for October, but realistically it will probably be November. I'm giving myself some wiggle room since the season for me is shifting, and I often experience fatigue and some strong-sads when autumn/winter set in. I won't know for sure until it hits if I will be a sleepy mess or not, lol. Sometimes it doesn't hit until December.

Assuming I remain in good humor, I will be doing a lot of writing and testing in the coming days. Around this time last year is when I was finally writing the first chapter of GC. It really helped me get through the winter months, so I hope that this year will be much the same.

In fact, I found when I made the document for the outline and rough draft for the start of our story:

Between here and the very beginning of February 2024, I wrote the prologue and chapters 1 and 2 and then published them. This coming February, we should celebrate our 1 year anniversary, right?

Chapter 5 is coming along well. I've had a couple scenes that I want to go back over and refine since I either forgot something or they just didn't turn out the way I wanted. I have also written out an event that happens in chapter 7 which I am very (unreasonably) excited about. I could not help myself, it was burning a hole in my brain. It will, of course, develop a lot more after I have 5 & 6 actually done, but I can't wait until you get there.

Here is where Chapter 5 stands now:

This looks massive, but keep in mind there are two paths at the beginning of this chapter and each have unique events/consequences. Some of the text is shared here and there between them, and then they meet. This also includes code and such. I am at the mid-point of the chapter currently where there is a bit of downtime and the MC can get up to...a few things.

Such as this tease for a Duri-moment:

Just what are you two up to???

As for Patreon, if anyone is curious, I am still planning. The feedback I got from the poll along with messages and such have helped a lot. I am not sure when I will have things running since I am prioritizing the actual chapter writing while I've been busy with other things. Since my weekly schedule is going to be back to normal now, I can think about it more.

I have determined to take Patreon nice and slow. It will focus on just a few tiers to start (centered on only God-Cursed for the time being). From there, we'll grow things at a sustainable pace. Most were interested in extras (POVs & drabbles), so I will focus on those, early access, and spiciness. I had debated about starting this next year as opposed to, say, November or December. I may just shoot for whenever I have chapter 5 done. I feel like that's a good round place we can branch off from, and it will open up more flexibility in any bonus content I write.

I think that's all of what's been on my mind lately, and I've prattled too long as it is. I hope you are all safe and well!

Take care! ^_^

~ Lunan 🐦‍⬛

#god cursed if #twine if #if wip #twine wip #interactive novel #if game #interactive fiction #gc if progress report

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probablyasocialecologist · 5 months ago

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In 2023, three scientists, led by Justine Karst at the University of Alberta, published a paper in the journal Nature Ecology & Evolution arguing that the wood wide web theory had gone too far. Their language was measured: it was not that these mycorrhizal networks didn’t exist, they said, but rather that the claims about what they did outstripped the evidence. More research was needed. Simard did not take the criticism well. Their paper, she responded, was “an injustice to the whole world”. In an article published in Nature last month, she accused Karst of a conflict of interest because she had taken funding from Canada’s Oil Sands Innovation Alliance – the implication being that her comments were financially rather than scientifically motivated. Karst then hit back at these claims, both in the article and later on X. “This was an attack made in bad faith to demean my character and question my objectivity,” she wrote. “Behind the scenes of the ‘debate’ has been ugly. It might get worse and I could spend more time defending my character than debating the evidence. I hope you understand that I can only lose in this situation. So, I’m out. Debate without me.” We think of science as neutral: experiments unfolding neatly, numbers noted on spreadsheets, society advancing in increments towards an absolute truth. Scientists are the automatons behind this process – temporarily able to transcend the biases, beliefs and subjectivity that make everyday life so complicated for the rest of us. But that could not be further from the truth. Scientists are not superhuman – they, too, form attachments. Indeed, in their original article, Karst et al did not blame Simard alone for the runaway success of the wood wide web. Other scientists had also exaggerated the evidence, they wrote, citing papers in support of the hypothesis, even when the actual papers were lukewarm on the idea. No wonder so many journalists had seized on the metaphor: not only was it emotionally appealing, it also seemed incontrovertibly true. As a result, the speed at which the idea had spread through the public realm had outpaced the science underpinning the idea itself.

9 July 2024

#ecology #science #wood wide web #trees #fungi

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littlestpersimmon · 4 months ago

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At my job. I feel I am being micromanaged by several people. I'm given 1 day to draw 1 page with the deadline I have. And this means I do not get a single day off. Ever. And all with a morality clause (if I or the author have "bad behavior" deemed by the publishing house and the book ends up not being published, I have to give back every single cent I make no matter how much work on the book I have already done.) Which means I have to pick up another job while doing this job. When I try to do the industry standard of doing simpler panels while the bigger panels remain very detailed, I will get hit with edit requests to make the panels more detailed, like illustration levels of detail per panel. I have one day to do this. Each panel takes me an hour to two to complete with this kind of work, and so many pages have around 5-6 panels. And I'm also supposed to do the layout and speech bubbles.. but with my past experience in the industry, I was not the one who would draw speech bubbles in and add the text. It was always a layout artist. I feel so confused and lost. I feel so tired and exhausted. Honest question, should I literally just kill myself? Art has been the only reason I live, but with having to draw 7 hours a day while being homeless and then moving to work 3 hours a day on private commissions and then being dead tired and not having the time to do anything else feels so bleak. Commissions I actually enjoy doing, it's the 7 hours every day, without pause, drawing for something that feels like it's never gonna end, is making me sincerely suicidal. Am I just a whiny baby?? I can't imagine another 12 months of this.

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sweetkpopmusings · 4 months ago

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long for you (act one) | h. hyunjin <3

a/n: hello and welcome to the first act of my hyunjin fic :,-) it is past my bedtime, so please ignore any typos lol. if you'd like to be added to the tag list, you can reply to this post or send me an ask ! pics not mine <3

♡ find all parts here ♡

content: fluff, romance, fake dating, angst, a happy ending | wc: 3.5k | warnings: none really! | pairing: nonbinary!painter!hyunjin x gn!writer!reader | requests: open

synopsis: y/n is a writer with a long-awaited, well-deserved career opportunity. despite the excitement, there’s one major problem: the publisher expects a modern love story, equally romcom-like and authentic, but y/n lacks the inspiration to write something worth reading. through a chance meeting with mutual friends, y/n and hyunjin bond over upcoming deadlines and creative blocks. before the conversation ends, they discover that the ridiculous plot of fake dating might just work to solve their inspirational dry spell.

act one: a modern love story

groaning, you push your laptop to the side and rest your head against your hands.

felix, from the other side of your dining table, holds back a laugh, “that bad, huh?”

you scoff, rolling your eyes despite them being closed, “worse, probably.”

you hear felix shift in his chair, and you know he’s resting his chin on his hands, his classic flower pose he uses whenever you need his smile to cheer up. letting the frustration hang over you, a few minutes pass before you look up to see the sweet boy across from you. when you do, you can’t help the small smile that breaks through your bitter face.

“hah! i knew you couldn’t resist me,” felix teases, leaning back in his seat but making no move to take his attention away from you.

knowing he’s going to ask you what’s wrong, you explain, “so, you know how earlier this week i booked that gig with the publishing company?”

“yeah, the ghostwriting job for Odd One Out, right?”

you nod, “exactly. this is supposed to be a great thing. arguably the best thing that could happen for my writing career, even if it’s a book my name can’t be on, since it’s at least a foot in the door. and i’m not saying i’m ungrateful–”

“but?”

“i’ve been trying all week to come up with even the smallest idea for the prompt they gave me, and it feels as though this is the worst writer’s block i’ve ever had and ever will experience.”

felix frowns, sympathetic, “do you think maybe the pressure of such a big opportunity is getting to you? i know all of us, at one point or another, have hit a wall because of imposter syndrome or just plain anxiety.”

you let his words bounce around your mind for a little. they don’t seem incorrect–surely such a monumental opportunity would leave you feeling a little apprehensive or stressed–but they don’t seem to capture the full picture.

“i think…” you glance at felix, a little helplessly, but he just waits patiently until you find the right words, “that’s definitely part of it. if i’m being honest though, i think the biggest obstacle i’m facing is the subject itself.”

“which is?” felix cocks an eyebrow.

you drag your laptop back in front of you and open the window with the email the company sent you detailing your project, “you are tasked with writing a modern love story. one that swoons readers with classic tropes, one that pulls on their heartstrings with the right amount of angst, and, ultimately, one that makes us believe two imperfect people can find the perfect relationship together. we look forward to your first manuscript!”

“oh, i see…”

“yeah. they’ve asked me to write a story that i have practically nothing in my own experiences to draw from. i can’t exactly copy stories that are already out there when the whole point of this novel is that the characters are human and believable. they need me to write a story with heart, with messiness, and certainly with a happy ending. i’ve had the mess a few times, sure, but not for long enough to keep anybody’s attention if i turn the story into something more than a casual conversation piece over drinks.”

you push your laptop away, not wanting to look at the prompt or empty word document for another second. instead, you opt for a swig of your coffee, praying the caffeine would lift your spirits, if nothing else.

felix’s brow is furrowed as the gears in his head turn quickly. it’s hard not to laugh at his expression, cute and sincere simultaneously. you keep yourself quiet, smiling in appreciation of your friend’s genuine concern for your professional predicament.

“first, i’ll admit that this sucks. i can’t imagine how frustrating it’d be to feel almost…disconnected from an assignment you were so excited to receive. i can’t exactly offer help with my relationship history,” felix laughs, sharing your pain of bad luck in love, “but maybe if we combine our disappointments with jisung’s hopeless romantic outlook, you could come up with something?”

you sigh. it wouldn’t be out of the question to ask jisung for help. he’s a dear friend, just like felix, and he never struggles to write a love song for work. creative collaboration wouldn’t hurt, right? well, maybe it hurts your pride a little to go running to your brilliant music producer and songwriter best friend for advice on your first-ever real book deal. at this point, though, what other choice do you have?

“yeah, maybe you’re right.”

felix grins, “let’s go visit him at the studio then! we can bring him lunch in exchange for his assistance!”

“i mean…he is our best friend, so i don’t see why we have to pay him,” you tease, already packing up your things.

“i was going to pay for everyone’s food, but i guess we can all just fend for ourselves–”

“no! i’m being dumb and rude! buying lunch for jisung is a wonderful idea!”

felix laughs, texting jisung to alert him of your ETA and to get his order from your usual restaurant.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

jisung tosses his spoon into the nearly empty takeout container and claps his hands together, “okay! let’s get started!”

you sigh, stretching your arms and neck before pulling out your laptop. felix settles in the corner, ready to spend time on his phone while you and jisung work your magic.

“can i see the prompt they sent you?”

nodding, you hand jisung your laptop and explain, “i understand what they want. almost too well, probably. the issue is i have absolutely no inspiration for it.”

“yeah, i could’ve guessed that,” jisung teases, nervously laughing after the death glare you send him.

felix chimes in from his spot in the studio’s corner, “play nice, jisung! they’re practically baring their soul to you asking for help.”

“okay, let’s not be dramatic here,” you shake your hand to dissipate the idea that you’re being as vulnerable as you are right now.

“drama might help, actually,” felix suggests, not looking up from his phone.

you look over to jisung, waiting for him to weigh in. a bit to your dismay, jisung agrees with felix.

“so you’re saying my life is too boring for me to write this book?”

jisung shakes his head, “no! i’m saying your love life is too boring. i say that with peace and love, of course–”

“how can you–”

jisung continues before you fall down a rabbit hole of bickering, “i think the reason i can write so many love songs is because i put myself out there. sure, i fall too hard too fast and get my heart broken more often than i’d like to admit, but i am able to do what i do because i let my heart experience everything. i haven’t been in real, capital-L love many times; however, even the littlest of loves, the glimpses of a future with someone, those can be a bigger source of inspiration than you’d expect.”

“wow, jisung, that was…really deep.”

you chuckle at felix’s response, before looking at the very earnest jisung again, “it’s not like i haven’t loved someone before. you remember…”

your voice trails off, too afraid to say his name, too afraid to bring the memories of your first love into the room with you. jisung nods knowingly and speaks quickly enough to prevent you from searching for words to fill the empty space.

“i could never forget that, y/n. maybe that could be something you pull from. i’m more than happy to retell you some of my romantic mishaps–you know i’ve got plenty–but i think, for a story as heartfelt as the one they want you to write, for a story as real as the one you want to create, it needs to come from the perspective of you now, not you then.”

you sigh, finding it impossible to disagree with his advice. for as much as you and felix tease him for getting his hopes up with every person he feels the slightest bit of a connection to, you both would admit in a heartbeat that he is the most well-versed lover in the world. you wished, secretly, that you could muster up the courage he does without even blinking an eye. you just weren’t wired like that, especially after you got your heart broken a few years ago.

“so what? do i start dating now and hope that i get enough romance before the first draft is due in three months?”

“good luck with that,” felix scoffs, “there are way too many duds on dating apps these days.”

jisung shoots felix a frustrated look, but he just shrugs in reply.

“cool, so no dating but i need to fall in love. do either of you happen to have cupid on speed dial?”

they laugh, and felix adds, “if only you could be in a fake dating fanfic or something. then you’d really have something to work with.”

all three of you burst into laughter at the idea, and, once you calm down, jisung says, “actually…there might be something to that.”

“you can’t be serious?” you raise an eyebrow skeptically.

jisung puts his hands up defensively, “hear me out! it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to fake date someone you know, if it’s for the sake of work. between the three of us, we could probably find someone!”

“no way am i sending out requests for a fake partner. that couldn’t work, and it would be so embarrassing.”

you shiver at the idea. jisung doesn’t budge, though he admits that it’s a long shot for it to work. felix suggests that you three reminisce about jisung’s recent romantic pursuits, which you do for a couple of hours. when it’s time for you to pack your things, you’re barely farther than the starting line. jisung apologizes that he couldn’t be more help, and felix offers to bake you your favorite treat as consolation. you assure both of them that they shouldn’t feel bad–you accept felix’s baked goods, of course–but, try as you might, you can’t get rid of the slump in your shoulders. this book is supposed to be a big step towards your dream. this story is supposed to be your gateway to being the writer you were meant to be. you never expected it to go smoothly, but you have to admit that you wish something as easy as a fanfic trope would solve your problem.

as felix says goodnight, he smiles softly, “hey, y/n, don’t be too hard on yourself, okay? it’s frustrating, and it feels like there’s no way out, but you’re smart and capable and strong enough to see it through. plus, the universe will take care of it. someone will show up sooner rather than later, and you’ll have that story in no time!”

you smile, grateful for his neverending efforts to make you feel better, “thanks, sunshine. i’ll try to have the same kind of hope you have, despite everything.”

“despite everything,” he nods firmly before turning away to head back home himself.

you stare at the door, your place quiet, save the humming sound of your appliances, and you wonder how fate could have anything to offer you with such short notice.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

felix picks a few stray pieces of lint off your top and smiles proudly once your outfit is perfect. even though you’re feeling nervous, you can’t help but smile back at your friend’s beaming face.

“thank you again for coming with me to this, y/n. i don’t know if i could survive a whole company event without someone i like by my side.”

“don’t you have changbin? i’m sure he’d happily stay by your side all night.”

“i do,” felix agrees, “but he said he was bringing a plus-one, so i didn’t want to third wheel.”

“ah, how lovely it feels to be chosen as a preventative for third-wheeling,” you tease as felix opens the venue door for you.

“jisung isn’t the only one who can be romantic,” felix giggles and nudges your shoulder with his, helping to relax your nerves.

the venue is rather large, and there are more strangers here than you’d prefer. thankfully, you see changbin waving from a distance, so you know there won’t be any awkward small talk with felix’s other coworkers to get through. though they met through work, changbin and felix have been friends for years, thus making you a friend in changbin’s eyes. you take a couple of drinks from a waiter as changbin not-so-smoothly rushes his way towards you and felix, a tall person close behind him. as felix and changbin greet each other, you do a quick sweep over changbin’s plus-one. he’s well-dressed, probably the most fashionable one in the whole place, and frustratingly statuesque in appearance. his black hair frames his face and brushes his neck ever so slightly, and the only thing preventing him from looking dark and mysterious is the softness of his features, particularly his sweet brown eyes.

“y/n! this is hyunjin,” changbin grins, gesturing to the person beside him.

“hi y/n, it’s nice to meet you,” hyunjin smiles, voice lilting delicately.

you smile, unable to resist the naturally playful glint in his eye, “it’s nice to meet you too, hyunjin. how do you know changbin?”

“we met back in university,” hyunjin answers, “we lived together for the first two years.”

“best two years of my life!” changbin wraps an arm around hyunjin, and hyunjin laughs loudly.

“cute!” felix smiles, “so glad i get to finally meet you in person, hyunjin.”

“likewise,” hyunjin nods.

the conversation jumps around, mostly directed by changbin and felix telling anecdotes about the various coworkers that pass by. you and hyunjin laugh and ask questions, gasping at the drama and ridiculousness that pervades their workplace. eventually, felix asks what hyunjin does for work, and you’re surprised to learn that he’s a painter. or, rather, he works in design to pay the bills and paints in all of his free time, showing works wherever and whenever he can to build his reputation in the city.

“that’s so cool!” felix exclaims, and then points to you, “y/n is a writer. i’m sure you two could relate on a bunch of stuff since you’re both creative professionals.”

“what do you write?” hyunjin asks, looking at you intently as he takes a sip of his drink.

“fiction, mostly. i’ve taken plenty of different freelance gigs in the past that gave me experience writing all sorts of things, but i prefer writing short stories and novels.”

changbin lights up, “oh that’s right! congratulations are in order!”

you smile sheepishly, and explain, after hyunjin asks, that you just signed a ghostwriting book deal with a publishing company.

“that’s incredible! i know it couldn’t have been easy to secure that. i’d love to read some of your work since you’ve clearly got talent.”

“thank you, hyunjin, but i don’t know about that,” you laugh a little, “we’ll see if i have enough talent to write this book.”

hyunjin’s brow furrows, and felix responds, “they’re having some writer’s block. the prompt is a little…out of their wheelhouse. i have no doubt they’ll figure it out though!”

you pat felix’s shoulder lovingly, “yes, he believes that i’ll figure it out as soon as the universe sends me someone to fake date.”

changbin tilts his head in confusion, “is it a fake dating story?”

you swallow a sip of your drink and shake your head, “no, it’s supposed to be a ‘modern love story.’ full of angst and authenticity, and, most importantly, it’s supposed to be human enough to make us all believe it’s possible.”

hyunjin chuckles when you roll your eyes, which makes you blush a little as you realize he’s watching you so closely.

“well, if you need someone to fake date,” changbin grins, “hyunjin would probably be a good fit.”

it’s time for you to tilt your head in confusion, “wait. hyunjin isn’t your boyfriend?”

hyunjin throws his head back and cackles while changbin giggles, “no, unfortunately we’re just friends. maybe one day i can break through, but five years down the line, i’m still getting rejected.”

“oh, stop pouting!” hyunjin smacks changbin’s shoulder, “you don’t actually want to date me.”

“and how would you know that?” changbin wiggles his eyebrows, “can’t a guy dream of dating someone like you?”

“it seems like you’re going to be dreaming for a long time, changbin. you might just not be their type,” felix teases.

their type?

“anyway,” changbin says after his giggles die down, “hyunjin has been struggling with the theme for an exhibition they have coming up. maybe you two could help each other out!”

“what’s giving you writer’s–or, should i say, painter’s block?” you ask.

hyunjin chuckles, “the theme is ‘yearning.’ my friend, jeongin, is the gallery director and has been on a real angst kick these days after meeting someone special. not that i don’t have my fair share of yearning experiences, but i just can’t crack into something deep enough to create something that matters, you know?”

you sure did know, which is how you two spent almost the entire night discussing inspiration, love, heartache, creativity, longing, and everything else possible. eventually, felix and changbin leave you two alone to talk to their other coworkers, given that they couldn’t get a word in edge-wise with how passionately the two of you were talking. if you were honest, you hardly noticed they were gone. that’s just how captivating the conversation, and hyunjin, were.

“ugh, it feels so good to talk to someone who gets it,” hyunjin sighs.

“i agree,” you smile, “it may not solve the problem, but it reduces the stress.”

“cheers to that!”

you and hyunjin clink your glasses together, and you reply, “also, sorry if i misgendered you when i assumed you were changbin’s boyfriend. totally my bad!”

hyunjin waves his hand in the air, “don’t worry about it! you weren’t exactly wrong. i use they/he pronouns, so technically i could be a boyfriend. just not changbin’s.”

you two laugh at this, and you’re relieved that you didn’t unintentionally get off on the wrong foot with someone who can relate to your current creative predicament so deeply.

“actually, speaking of boyfriends…” hyunjin trails off, waiting to get your full attention.

“what about them?”

“i’d be happy to be your fake one, if you really did want to try that out.”

“oh, you don’t have to do that,” you laugh a little, “that was an idea my friends brought up, but i didn’t take it seriously.”

hyunjin nods, “i see. well, even if it seems ridiculous, i think it could work. hell, i’d be down to try it too. i’m feeling pretty frustrated about this painting series, and maybe something out of pocket like a fanfic trope could do the trick.”

you observe them, trying to catch a sign that he’s joking, “really?”

“yeah,” they shrug, “what’s the harm? you’re a writer who needs inspiration, and i’m a painter who needs inspiration. instead of doing some dramatic spiritual artist retreat in the middle of nowhere, we take each other on some dates and explore the ideas of love and yearning together. sort of like a…group project!”

his eyes light up, and you can feel yourself getting won over already by their charm, “when do you have to finish your paintings?”

“i have to bring them to jeongin in three months.”

huh.

“that’s…well, that timing’s sort of perfect,” you admit, “my first manuscript is due in three months.”

hyunjin grins, “so it sounds like we might give this fake dating thing a try?”

you sigh, unsure of what you could be getting yourself into, “what would that even look like?”

hyunjin hums, putting their hand to their chin, deep in thought. you let a silence fall between you two, hoping one of you can come up with a good idea. your bet is on hyunjin, though, because you can’t begin to think through how a fake dating situation between two artists, two muses, should go.

hyunjin snaps his fingers, “i’ve got it! let’s say we just take each other on dates for the next three months. no expectations for the dates, no strict schedule, and no pressure to actually develop feelings or fall in love. we spend time together naturally, go through the experiences of getting to know someone, and we use that for our work. if, after a few weeks, it isn’t doing the trick, then we call it off. no harm, no foul. what do you say?”

maybe it was their enthusiasm. maybe you’re a sucker for a beautiful person with a creative mind. maybe you trust that someone who is good friends with sweetheart changbin could only have the best of intentions. maybe, just maybe, you trust what felix said the other day about the universe giving you what you need for this book to work out. whatever it is, something convinced you to stretch your hand out toward hyunjin.

hyunjin shakes your hand, and you smile, “no harm, no foul.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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