#like i just spent that kind of money on my tote bag that i used for bout two weeks before benching it 🤡 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

underaverageheight · 5 months

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paint my love

hwang hyunjin x artist!gn!reader genre: fluff warning(s): none other than hyune being a bit of a crybaby

note: took me a while but i finally got to fully write out my little thought from here because tbh sending in asks to sage gets my brain going lol

word count: 2.1k omg

“Hey Bin! Um... can you do me a favor? Like a big, big favor?” Your best friend nodded eagerly, awaiting your words. "Can you... buy me a studio? Nothing huge. Just a studio?"

Changbin looked at you as if you were speaking gibberish. At this point, real gibberish would have made more sense. "Um. I love you but why? You have a studio and Hyunjin. Ask Hyunjin."

"Well, you see... I want to give him a new studio for our anniversary but I want to keep it a secret. A very secret secret and it’s not like I can drop a grand or two randomly and play it off." You looked at Changbin, reaching for his hand on the table. "I need you, Binnie."

He raised his eyebrow. "You need my money."

"Well... yeah. But I'm a good friend so I'll say I need you. Besides, I'll pay you back," Grinning, you gave him the best puppy eyes you could muster, causing him to groan in defeat.

"Fine." He pulled out his card. "For the love of this world, do NOT go buying a whole bunch of buildings. Okay? Ask Chan for his card if you're gonna do that." Changbin smirked and handed you his card before getting up to pat Hyunjin's shoulder, who looked at you with a puzzled facial expression.

Later that day, you spent your time sketching cherry blossom trees, scraps of your designs littered the floor of your shared room-turned-mini-studio, which was mostly filled with Hyunjin’s finished projects and some half-finished projects. With both of you being artists, many of your projects mixed with Hyunjin's. You tugged at one of his binders and flipped through the paints your boyfriend had bought or created. You found various shades of pink and red, ones you considered using for your project. After all, it had to be the most perfect anniversary gift for him.

"I'm home~" Hyunjin kicked off his shoes and found you scavenging through his binders and some of your folders. He gave you a quick peck on the top of your head. "Artistic rush?" You nodded and he chuckled, sitting down next to you. "What are you looking for?"

"Just some shades. I'm trying to find the nature catalog." Humming softly, you leaned against his shoulder. "I had a little thought." Laughing softly, you traced patterns on your boyfriend's thigh. "How was practice?"

"It was kinda fun today. We goofed off mostly and we were all okay with it. Even Minho was okay with it." Hyunjin tangled his fingers in the locks of your hair before reaching into a mess of binders and pulled a smaller one out. "Here."

"Thanks Hyunnie.” He hummed his acknowledgement, kissing your cheek again.

“I’m gonna shower and work on some things,” He got up and went to get his clothes from your bedroom. You, on the other hand, grabbed a spare bin, put the catalog, some paints you could easily find, and many brushes or various shapes inside. The rest of the day, you looked into multiple art studios, trying to find ones with a nice view and large windows.

“This is the one.” You found a lovely, spacious yet cozy studio that faced the west, allowing one to see the prettiest sunsets from the room. Booking a viewing appointment for tomorrow, you quickly made another checklist; things to double check and look for to make sure what you were buying had the proper things. Grabbing your tote bag, a birthday gift from your boyfriend who painted delicate roses on the sides, you put the list in, your car keys, and your wallet with Changbin’s card inside.

“As you can see, this studio has a smaller, more private office area with a lovely view of the city. It’s perfect for smaller businesses or artists or all kinds. Out here,” the realtor led you out of the little office to the outside space, “is the kitchen and a large open area here that can fit your various needs. Should it be a living room, meeting area, art studio based on your pretty bag there.” The woman smiled, gesturing to your tote bag.

“It’s beautiful. May I check and look around the studio?”

“Feel free to. I have another client downstairs so take as much time as you need,” The realtor smiled and left, going to the bottom floor to meet the client. Looking around, you checked for any damage, locating wall outlets, checking the space, checking the windows. Satisfied, you went down the many floors to find the realtor, going to make your down payment with Changbin’s card.

You better love and use that studio to bits and pieces. Pay me back when you can :>

Texting Changbin back that you promise to pay him back, you drove home, catching Hyunjin on his way back to the house from a company dinner. Next week, you’d start the painting and prep. “Hi Jinnie! I finally figured out my artistic rush. So unfortunately I’ll be busy for a long long time.”

You giggled at the silly ferret’s antics. “Oh no! You’re going to disappear off the face of the Earth for a long time. When can I expect your kisses?” “Mmm… a week or two?”Jaw drop.

“Lord. Are you being summoned to paint down in the depths of hell? What are you painting? A skyscraper?” Hyunjin pounced on you, hugging you tightly and peppering kisses all over you. “Come back alive, my love.”

“Dramatic.” Laughing, you hugged him back, with a big grin, “I just wanna perfect this project. Besides, I literally see you everyday, angel.”

“Alright, alright fine.”

For a few days, you spent hours painting the walls, deciding on a green summery background, with faint mountains in the background. Coming home, you set your bags down, sighing, glad to be home. “Babyy!” Hyunjin comes to you, hugging and spinning you around with a wide grin. “You have green paint on your cheek… You’re really using that nature binder, huh?”

You flushed a light pink, attempting to wipe off the dried paint. “Ah…” Laughing slightly, you rest your face against Hyunjin’s chest. Stilling slightly, Hyunjin brought his hands up to your head and your back, rubbing soothing circles on your back.

A week later, you set the wet brush down on the paper, admiring your work. In the center of the wall was a grand cherry blossom tree, its branches stretching across the walls and parts of the ceiling. The white and pink blossoms stood out against the greenery, a flurry of floating blossoms seeming to drift in the wind. After hours of research, you found UV paint and glow in the dark paint. You outlined the tree and some blossoms. You added small details in your mural, working a lot later than you normally had, determined to finish this soon.

By the time you finished detailing, you gasped in wonder as the paint glowed brightly, seeming to shine brighter than the night life down below. The next and last day, you took the UV paint, marking up the mural with tiny messages. Satisfied, you sat on the couch, taking in the view of your finished mural. You were proud of the work you produced, stopping to admire it while you were cleaning up the studio. Before you left for the day, you left a little bag on the counter with a note.

“Can you believe we’ve almost been dating for 4 years?” Hyunjin smiled as he held you close, his arms wrapped around you, blanketing you with his warmth.

“Speaking of which, I planned dinner at the restaurant we went to on our first date tomorrow.”

“Really? Do you think your message is still by that table in the corner?” Hyunjin’s eyes shined, recalling the memory.

On your first date with him, you both went to this small local restaurant. It was cozy yet elegant in its own way. After finishing your meals, you pointed at the wall next to the table, decorated with messages from its many visitors. “For good luck?” Hyunjin shrugged, pretending not to seem overly excited. “Sure.” You found an open area on the wall, scribbling the date. You thought for a moment before writing Y/n & Hyun - our first date ~ Hyunjin tried his best to hide his smile as you got up to use the restroom. Unbeknownst to you, he stood up and wrote a message of his own near the ceiling, convinced you’d never see his wish for luck.

“Good morning darling. Happy anniversary~” You woke up to a decorated room, the walls of your shared room covered in many sketches and drawings.

“What is this?” Walking over to the walls, you read off the writing on a smaller sketch. “‘The 73rd thing I love about you. Your sleeping patterns.’” The sketch depicted a person, presumably yourself, curled up like a koala. You laughed and looked at other sketches. “‘The 12th thing I love about you. Your hugs.’ ‘The 5th thing I love about you. Your smile.’ ‘The 1st thing I love about you. You.’ Aw Jinnie… I love it so much. It’s beautiful. I love you so much. Happy anniversary my love.” You hugged your boyfriend tightly, kissing him lovingly.

“Where is it…” Your finger traced the walls, scanning for your message. “Found it! Right here, look!” You pointed at your faded handwriting, smiling brightly. You drew a heart near your previous message and wrote a new one. Happy 4 years to the one I love. “I don’t remember if you wrote one. I don’t think you did, did you?”

“I did write one. Honestly, I was completely head over heels for you when I first met you…So I wrote one in secret. Didn’t want to scare you away if you knew how much I cared about you.” Hyunjin blushed, looking away from you before searching the writing near the ceiling, pointing at the corner. I know it has to be you, so please let it be you. Underneath was a small cherry blossom, a symbol of when you first met Hyunjin.

“Speaking of cherry blossoms… It's time for me to show you your gift.” Taking him to the tall building, Hyunjin was confused, unsure of what you could be referring to.

“Oh my god. Did you buy this building?” He paled slightly, making you laugh.

“Why does everyone think I’m gonna buy a building?!” Shaking your head with a smile, you took him up to the studio, placing the key in his hand. “Happy anniversary, darling.” Hyunjin nervously unlocked the studio, gasping at the sight.

“A new studio? For me? This is your gift? Oh my god.” You flipped the lights on. The mural was fully revealed, nearly bringing your boyfriend to tears. “I…” He rushed to feel the wall, tracing the blossoms. “Cherry blossoms. When we first met…”

“This isn’t even the best part.” You grinned, relishing in how emotionally touched he was.

“There’s more?!” He nearly shrieked, trying to figure out the tricks you hid up your sleeves.

“Close your eyes.” Hyunjin hesitantly closed his eyes, anxious for the rest of your surprise. You turned off the lights, waiting for the paint to glow again. The low glow of the paint illuminated part of the room. “Open.”

Hyunjin stared, mouth agape at the glowing mural. Tearing up, he sniffled, coming to hug you tightly.“It’s beautiful. I love it so much. I… don’t even have the words to express how much I love this. It’s stunning…”

“Go grab the bag on the counter.” Hyunjin reluctantly peeled himself off you, sniffling as he grabbed the small bag off the counter. “Go ahead, turn it on.” Reaching inside, he revealed a UV light. He turned it on, waving it around. “No you goofball, point it at the wall.”Slowly but surely, the UV messages you spent writing all over the mural revealed themselves. Your boyfriend was full on sobbing, sitting by the wall, tracing your messages with his finger. Looking back at you with tears streaming down his face, he made grabby hands towards you, making you come over to him, hugging him and laughing.

“Don’t look at meee…” Hyunjin sniffled, wiping his face with his sweater sleeve as he read your messages aloud. “‘I expect my kisses in two weeks' time.’ ‘If you find this, I may or may not have used up all of your green paint.’” Hyunjin laughed, still crying as he buried his face in your shoulder. “I love you. I love you so much. I thought you bought me a whole entire building… Maybe I should do that. Buy you a building so we can paint every room, every wall, everything. I’m gonna paint the world for you.” Giggling, you wiped his tears, pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

“Gonna paint my endless love for you.”

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reincarnatedonthefirst · 10 months

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The day is over. I had a semi successful appt with Derrick. My libido was low this time. Sex wasn’t as good for me.

Usually, I dab some “Art of the Root” oil on my wrists before appointments just so the appointment goes well. I didn’t have the oil with me this time. The oil doesn’t exactly make me horny but I believe it has power and my appointments almost always go well when I wear it! The ONE time I don’t wear it, the appointment seems to be kind of a bust. But, whatevs.

I actually left my ENTIRE makeup bag at home!!! 😑 I was panicking. I like to be perfect for my appointments, especially with Derrick (because I always want to impress him). My face dropped when I saw I left my makeup at home.

However, foundation isn’t very important for me because I don’t have many protrusions or scars to hide. My lashes and brows are the most important for me. Luckily, I keep a backup brow pen and pencil in the car. And I happened to have a sample size Marc Jacobs in the cosmetic bag I carry around daily (it’s always in there. I got the mascara at least 6 or 7 years ago. It’s hardly been used).

I’m going to keep a second back-up set of brow and lash makeup in the car for blunders just like this.

After I got my room situated at the hotel, I spent the next ten minutes ransacking nearby rooms for toilet paper, tissue boxes, face wipes, and travel lotions. Housekeeping had left open the doors of three nearby rooms so I stealthily went from room to room, removing the spare tissue rolls, taking out the tissue boxes, and swiping the lotions. The housekeeper also left her cart out in the hall and I made a few passes, swiping tissue boxes and toilet papers rolls off her cart.

My haul for today was 8 rolls of toilet paper, 3 tissues boxes, 4 lotions, and a tall stack of plastic and paper cups (this was including the supplies I took from my own room).

Look, when you are not bringing in money, you need to take whatever you can get so that you don’t have to spend money on essential household items. My haul today was so big that I had to carry it out in one of those Trader Joe’s reusable shopping totes.

Shiiiiiid. I walked out of that hotel feeling like a king.

AND I found $0.41 on the ground near my car in the parking lot!!! 😆😆😆

#me #clients #derrick

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hansengreene78 · 2 months

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pattersonellison92 · 2 years

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guzmansanchez53 · 2 years

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mccullochlandry0 · 2 years

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falkenbergfalkenberg87 · 2 years

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Balenciaga White Purses

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honeycuttross7 · 2 years

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Low-cost Replica Hermes Purses, Hermes Aaa Replica Purses

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animecreator3000 · 3 years

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About the Boueibu iceberg

@delphoxqueen asked me to explain about my list for the iceberg so here it is. I might update this from time to time with links and stuff if I stumble across the original posts. This is all from what I know so feel free to add new info. Also, spoiler warning for RobiHachi and the Boueibu manga and novels. (This is like a masterpost it’s very long)

1. There’s a theory in tumblr about which decade the series is set in, using data like the friday the 13th calendar in s2 ep11. In HK we got a second number for when the next monthly Pretty Boy Contest was happening and using the one from Love it was theorized that around a decade had passed since then, which ended up being true.

2. The stage play had a few original songs and characters exclusive to it so unless you watched the full performance, you probably weren’t able to witness all of them. One of the characters is called “Robato Deniro”, as romanized in the stage play booklet I own.

3. The nurse and the cafeteria staff from the s1 mobile game appear in the background in around the first half of s2 ep3.

4. S2 had an unfinished manga that was only available online and was never released on physical format; it was centered around the defense club and sometimes the conquest club and Beppu brothers. All that’s left from what I know are the scans linked on magicalgirlsandcerulean’s blog.

5. This isn’t that obscure because it’s talked about in the anime, but I’m mentioning it because I think many people dropped it before the ova, where right at the beginning it is revealed that the alien that resucitated Mr. Tawarayama twice was, as described by Io, a “mulberry-colored naked mole rat-looking thing”, and was nicknamed “Moley-san” by Yumoto. At least in the anime, we had never heard before of who this was and it never appeared on screen nor was mentioned again.

6. In HK ep8, Karurusu promises the knights to grant a wish if they show him how earthlings spend summer. Kyoutarou reveals at the end of the episode that he wished that summer lasted one more day so he could spend it doing nothing, which prompts Ichiro to theorize that it’s the 32nd of august, and the next day is the second 1st of september.

7. The stage play was was held from march 10th to 13rd, of which the latter is Ryuu’s birthday. There’s an additional recording of a small celebration with cake focused on Ryuu and Io.

8. Atsushi mentions his older sister in the flashback at the beginning of s1 ep4, but she never appears or is mentioned again.

9. There’s a few posts on tumblr theorizing about what happened to the Hakone parents since Yumoto only says in s2 ep3 that according to Gora, “they are busy with their hot springs tour”. En mentions that it’s a bit suspicious, but it’s all the information we have from the anime. Posts talk about the parents perhaps passing away from an accident or an illness, thus the reason why Gora was so worried about Yumoto’s cold in s1 ep10, but from another post I think it’s implied in the second novel that they actually left their home when Yumoto was still a toddler.

10. It’s no secret that the surnames of the characters are all real onsens in Japan that even the seiyuus have visited, but apparently the Arima onsen has two different kinds of water, “kinsen (gold hot spring)” and “ginsen (silver hot spring)”, with different properties each, and the Kusatsu onsen water also has certain properties, both that were used to build the characters. Additionally, Ryuu’s favorite food are Sato Nishiki cherries, which are grown in the same prefecture, Yamagata, as his onsen, Zaou.

11. The press club lose relevance after s1, with only Kinosaki and Tazawa reappearing briefly in s2 ep2 to interview the Beppu twins after they arrive at the school. Tazawa doesn’t even have lines. Hireashi is mentioned by Zundar in ep11.

12. What the heck

13. Exclusively in the manga we see that Arima met Kinshiro and Atsushi when they were little and they were good friends, but when they met again as adults, Kinshiro seemingly didn’t remember Arima. Atsushi, however, stated that Kinshiro’s talent is remembering people’s faces and names, so Arima wonders if he’s just trying to distance himself from him. He also explains to Akoya that he follows Kinshiro and obeys him because as a child, he was fascinated by his radiant smile. This is never talked about in the anime.

14. Like the previous point, the anime never shows Akoya being bullied, at most just a slight dislike of his full name, but the manga shows that he was made fun of for it and how he actually hates his surname, to the point of introducing himself formally to the president and vicepresident of the student council as “Holy Angel Akoya”.

15, 16, 17, 19. Batonama lives were the livestreams done through the franchise by the defense club seiyuus on youtube and niconico. They’re all on youtube, without any kind of translation.

Love-ko is a girl with a shell bikini drawn on a piece of cardboard that was used as a girlfriend in the Batonama Love! lives, acted by the seiyuus themselves.

RobiHachi has one episode full of official Boueibu artwork and a parody of the series too, a Love-ko doll appears, and Wombat appears as well, named “The Don”. It received an english dub, so for a bit, people were excited that Wombat was going to speak in english too. Also, various mechas appear in both Boueibu and RobiHachi.

18. The director of Fairy Ranmaru (Masakazu Hishida if I’m not wrong) revealed in an interview that he was inspired by Boueibu and aimed to make a show like that.

20, 21. The website super-groupies.com has results for defense and conquest club lingerie sets, dc and VEPPer tote bags, the Beppus’ scarf rings, dc bath sets and the pumps magicalgirlsandcerulean mentioned. I’ve found the s1 Loveracelets and Caerula Adamas’ ring on different sites, the True Loveracelets on TheChara’s twitter and the Happybraces (apparently called “Hapibure”) on broccoli.co.jp but I’m not sure where exactly they were all announced and sold, so I’ll just drop that.

22, 33. Boueibu was originally pretty much a copy of Sailor Moon, I think they were all going to be called “Lackluster Moon” and that stuff and be literally Sailor Moon genderbent. They were all different from color palettes to physical features (except Yumoto’s), and Ryuu was a shota, even smaller than Yumoto. Their names were also very reminiscent of the five Sailor Senshis’. Even if they made it more original, the show is still clearly inspired by Sailor Moon (just look at Caerula Adamas lol) and Pretty Cure. It has also referenced, very blatantly, animes like Doraemon, Detective Conan, Aikatsu and even Vocaloid, when Kyoutarou tries to guess what Karurusu is saying with ““Just Google It, Asshole”?” in ep1.

23. Wombat’s real name and the name of his planet sound like gibberish to the earthlings and ends up being named after the Earth animal, but Zundar, Dadacha, Karurusu and Furanui all have original names. And I think Hireashi means “goldfish”?

24. If you google “zundar technology”, it’s actually a company in Shanghai, China. Aren’t Wombat and Zundar always talking about “advanced alien technology”?

25. Zundar and Dadacha are siblings, so are Karurusu and Furanui, and so are their father King Kamopapa and their uncle minister Wao, but neither are the same species and, except the first two, not even the same color. But they are supposedly related because they share birthmarks or something like that...

26. Everyone who’s in this fandom knows about the pixel blur and voice pitch censor from s1, but I’ve added it anyway because it’s so rare for mahou shoujo and shounen animes to explain why the heroes aren’t recognized when transformed.

27. A good while of s2 ep11 is spent discussing Zundar’s ex-wife and his problems to give child support. Naturally, he gets mad at this.

28. “Money doesn’t betray” (s1 ep6) and “The despair hidden behind your smile that comes from not being understood” (s3 ep11) are sentences that came out of nowhere and implied that the people they were said by (Io) or about (Taiju) respectively had some kind of angst going on but were never explained at all. They’re famous for just that.

29. The Beppu twins’ house in Andromeda shown in flashbacks had strange green circles that apparently are from another anime I don’t know but honestly I didn’t get it very well... It was revealed on a tweet from Takamatsu.

30. Alien language mostly appeared in s2 due to the many flashbacks of Aki and Haru in Andromeda, but in Boueibu s1, it appears on the Zundar Needle before it is shot on the human. It appears a lot through RobiHachi as well, due to being a story about travelling through space. There might be an alphabetical chart somewhere, but I can’t assure it exists, I might even have dreamed it.

31. Hikaru Midorikawa as the melon monster, Kousuke Toriumi as the bishounen monster, Yoshitsugu Matsuoka as the kotatsu and panda monsters and Takuya Eguchi as the remote controller monster in s1 and 2, before going on to voice the main cast in HK. Keisuke Koumoto voiced Hatchi Kita in RobiHachi as well as Akihiko in Boueibu, and the characters look similar.

A new addition is that so far Boueibu is the only anime I’ve seen where children weren’t voiced by female seiyuus, but by actual children. Personally, it’s charming and makes it so much more realistic, specifically since no women appear in the franchise at all either (not counting Protag-chan in the game).

32. Speaking of seiyuus, Can I Destroy The Earth? had a dub shown in ep11/12 (?) that made Gora the villain that wanted Earth to stay the same and not progress, against the monsters that supposedly wanted to bring good things to earthlings. Aki and Haru quickly dismissed this dub as fake. (I made a mistake in the title in the previous post btw)

34. As seen in the glossary in the Boueibu Mook (I think, but might not be the mook), Caerula Adamas’ speeches are based on an old japanese detergent commercial that went “Gold, silver, pearl, gift”.

35. In the manga there’s a short parody of the first chapter of Sailor Moon with “Pretty Boy Guardian Gakuran Akoya”. The conquest club manga was released before the anime, so I remember reading somewhere that a fake website appeared for the Gakuran Akoya manga, before turning into the conquest club manga website in the day of its release.

36. Cgi was used a few times in the anime: s2 ep10 for a short sequence of the defense club on a rollercoaster and the carousel monster, ep11 for a cenital shot of the Battle Lovers singing, and HK ep12 for the Honyalaland soldiers and the Wao mecha.

37. The toothbrush incident in s1 ep7. (It’s definitely well-known but it’s so weird lol)

38. “We hope we can see each other again someday!” Something along those lines was the last text to appear in the last episode of HK, implying a s2. We all know how that went.

#boueibu #new post bc i didn't put a readmore in the other one and it was getting too long #msorry #long post #speaking of the robihachi eng dub... sarazanmai has one too...#so many animes like those get dubs but not boueibu?! HOW UNFAIR #at least we got the funimation subs #is the game even canon??#i mean with stuff like how everyone is apparently straight in there #even yumoto who pretty much came out as gay in the anime #that's very inconsistent #i mean. it is canon but maybe it's like an au? idk #also we need gakuran akoya to be real lmao #also no prequel with gora or hk s2. WHYYYY #i think this took me four hours

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enthusiasticharry · 4 years

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The Secrets You Keep

summary: you're a stripper, and you meet Harry off shift. what happens when he finds out?

request: hiiii would you be able to do something like stripper y/n? not where they meet at the club or anything but something natural like at a cafe or something but she keeps it from him bc she thinks he’ll leave her? then he has a guys night at the strip club and sees her perform? but he loves it and she’s a bit embarrassed? idk but that kinda vibe if ur up for it! X

word count: 8.3k words of fluff, smut and angst if you squint (and i really mean squint) also not proofread, sorry!

masterlist | asks

It never occurred to you that once you left full time education you’d end up becoming a stripper. It wasn’t the occupation you had envisioned for yourself, but it was the one that paid the best money and even though it shouldn’t be — money was the thing that you needed the most. You lived in a small, one bedroom flat that you shared with your Grandma who had no income and little pension meaning that you was the only source of income for the two of you. Obviously it was hard upon you, but your Grandma had done so much for you when you were younger that you wanted to help her as much as you possibly could. Granted, finding a job as an eighteen year old that was enough to help pay the bills and for the treatment your Grandmother needed wasn’t the easiest, and that was how you stumbled across the club and the jobs there. Your Grandma didn’t know how you received your income, and you planned to keep it that way for as long as you physically could.

“Have you got any private dances today?” Jocelyn, also known as Sapphire amongst the people in the club, asked as she started fixing her makeup in the mirror next to yours.

“I don’t know.” You sighed, spraying a small amount of hairspray upon your curls, “I haven’t spoken to Elliot yet.”

“Apparently some big shot businessmen are coming in tomorrow.” Ruby adds from the other side of you, applying a lipstick that matched her name to her lips.

“Ugh.” Sapphire groaned, “That means old men with small dicks wanking to us instead of being with their probably very lovely, loving wives at home.”

“They lust after the taboo.” You add, applying a small amount of lipgloss to your lips, “They want what they can’t have, and brag when they get it.”

“They have money though.” Ruby shrugged, “Haven’t had many tips this week. I’d probably do anything for a couple hundred quid tomorrow.”

“Not anything Ruby.” You turn to look at her, shaking your head at the younger girl, “Stand your ground. Don’t let them take advantage of you.”

“I won’t.” She smiled, “I learnt from the best.”

“And don’t you forget it.”

As a fresh eighteen year old, just as Ruby was now, you could’ve only hoped for someone to help you and guide you through the trails and tribulations you endured at the club. That’s why you sort of took the younger girl under your wing and helped her as much as possible.

It wasn’t a lot. Granted, with what they did the majority of it was on their own upon the stage or in a private dance but you wanted to make sure she had small tips to help her handle herself in any situation that could occur and that she someone to talk to if she ever needed it.

“Are you working tomorrow, Emerald?” Emerald was your stage name.

“No.” You sigh happily, “It’s my day off.”��

“Enjoy yourself, you deserve it.” Ruby smiled.

You certainly did.

The next morning, after helping your Grandma get ready and to the hospital, you make your way towards the small café you usually went to during your Grandmother’s chemo sessions. They usually lasted around three hours, and whilst you offered to stay with her, she usually forced you to leave and spend some time on your own, claiming she didn’t want you to see her at her worst.

The spring days had just started to warm up, so you dressed yourself in a summer dress you had picked up for cheap at a charity shop. You carried your tote bag with your book in over your shoulder as you pushed past the people on the street.

It wasn’t usually this busy, and looking around you saw no free tables but a few free chairs dotted around. Your favourite table, tucked away in the far right corner by the window had been taken by a man sat reading, just as you would’ve been. You toy back and forth with the idea of going to sit over there as you walk over to the counter.

You order your usual, a peach iced tea, and wait for the kind barista to make it. Your free days, usually, landed sporadically. They normally occurred when your grandmother either had chemo or a hospital appointment and that’s only because she can sometimes be really ill after them and needed you to look after her. Even though Elliot was not a good person by any means, he understood your situation and did help as little as he could.

“Excuse me.” The man looked up from this book at you, “Is this seat taken?”

“Uh. . .”

“It’s fine if it’s not!” Your quick to add, “There’s just no other seats.”

“No.” Your smile falters, “No! I mean that the seats not taken. It’s yours.”

“Thank you.” You drop your tote bag down on the floor, holding your hand out to the man, “I’m YN.”

“Harry.” He shakes your outstretched hand.

There was something oddly familiar about him, but you couldn’t quite place your finger on why. He dressed quite casually, a punny t-shirt that said something about health on it and you didn’t want to seem too weird and bend down to look at what he had on his bottom half but you suspected it was something just as interesting.

You take your book out of your bag and place it on the table in front of you, flicking through the pages until you found the page you had left off at.

As a child you loved to read. Your grandmother always read you a bedtime story before bed and it lead to English being your best subject at school. Whether it be the creative writing aspect, or the analytic — you were just good at it. It was your highest grade at GCSE, an A, and your highest grade at A Level, a B.

You didn’t exchange any more words with Harry the entire time you were there. Periodically you looked up at him, and somewhere deep down you hoped that he did the same for you but you couldn’t be too sure. The book that he was reading seemed interesting enough, something about watermelon, you had noticed. You had a slight suspicion that it wasn’t about watermelon but you could never be too sure you supposed.

A whine almost escaped your lips when you realised that you had to go pick up your Grandmother and your book had just gotten interesting. That was the problem when you read, you could sit and do it for hours and not even look up. It was something so interesting to you that you could immerse yourself in a world different to the one you lived in and slip out of reality for however long and return back to normal as though nothing had happened.

“Thank you for letting me sit here.” You smile as you pack your bag up, “Goodbye.”

“Bye.”

You left feeling sort of fuzzy inside. You hadn’t spoken to the man at all really, but he was kind and certainly handsome with his tousled brown hair and gentle smile. That was probably going to be the last time that you saw him, and you probably should’ve asked for his number at least but you didn’t and that was why you walked away with him laying heavy upon your mind.

The next day, you wanted nothing more than to leave in the middle of your shift and curl up on the sofa. Instead, you were stood in a private room in the back of the club swirling your hips for a man sat upon a chair in the middle.

“You’re fucking fit.” He moans, and you almost throw up in your mouth.

“Thank you.”

You move yourself so you’re hovered over his lap, twisting your hips to beat of the sultry song spilling out of the speakers. If you didn’t need the money, or have a bills to pay you certainly wouldn’t be doing this.

“Fucking sort.” That’s when his hand drops down upon your behind, squeezing the flesh harshly.

You stand up, flipping around so that you’re looking at him, “Hands off.”

“Babe.” He throws his head back, “C’mon I’ve paid bags for this dance.”

“And you pay for a dance, and the rules state no touching.”

He holds his hands up in surrender, “I’m sorry. Won’t happen again, babe.”

“Better not.”

It does, and that’s when you get up and leave. He still has to pay, which is a plus but it just isn’t the best feeling. The job you do isn’t one that people necessarily respect you for, but there are rules in place to help with that. You and the other dancers within the club were human beings and deserved the rights that any other person has.

“You okay?” Ruby presses her hand to your shoulder as you powder your under-eyes, “I heard he was touching.”

“Yeah.” You smile at her through the mirror, “Started behind and they he just full on groped me.”

“Men are pigs.”

“I second that statement.” You laugh, “But you know what they’ll say.”

“That we teased and antagonised them to do it.”

Throwing her a deadpan look, you nod. It was something that you had dealt with for the past six years of your life and even though you did hate it and wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow you up every time it happened — you had gotten used to it.

“Did you have a nice day off yesterday?”

“I did thank you.” You smile, “Read a bit. Spent some time with my Grandma.”

“Sounds lovely.” Her face then twists into one that you can’t quite pinpoint, “You didn’t miss much here.”

“The businessmen not up too much?”

“No they paid well.” She nodded, “We just had to watch them wank their micropenises at us.”

You curl your nose up at the thought, “That sounds pleasant.”

“Totally.” She snorts.

“Emerald. Ruby.” Elliot sticks his head into the room, “Get your asses back out there.”

Ruby rolls her eyes and you laugh. Your job certainly wasn’t your favourite but some of the people around you made it more pleasant.

Two weeks later you find yourself sat in the corner of the café down the road from the hospital, your book open in front of you and a peppermint tea sat upon the table in a pot. Your Grandmother’s second round of chemo was slowly coming to the end of its stint and even though you wanted nothing more than for her to be back to the epitome of health, you would miss spending time at this small café.

“Hi.” You lift your head up to see Harry stood there, slightly breathless, “Is this seat taken?”

“It’s yours.” You smile, watching him drop his book on the table.

This time you could see his entire outfit. A white t-shirt with some writing on that you missed, a floral shirt over the top paired with red corduroy flares. You were right the last time that you met him —he did have an amazing sense of style. You, however, bought whatever was the cheapest or on sale that seemed acceptable to wear in public.

“How have you been?”

“I’ve been okay.” You smile, “You?”

“Good, thanks.” He scratches the base of his neck, “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Oh.” You have to stop yourself from smiling too much, “I only come when my Grandma has an appointment and they’re usually two weeks apart.”

“Ah.” He nods before his face curls, “I’m sorry if that seemed creepy.”

“It didn’t.” You can’t help the butterflies that erupt within your stomach, “I just thought I wouldn’t see you again.”

“Couldn’t let that happen.” Heat rises up your neck as he beams.

“No complaints about that from me.”

“That’s good.” He rests his hand upon his chest, letting out a deep breath, “Thought I was punching a little over my weight.”

“You’re not.” You cheeks hurt from smiling, “It’s cute.”

He looks down at his book. He seemed so shy, as though he had a confidence to talk to people but once they complimented him or something to do with him it completely changed. It was intriguing. He was already nicer to you than most people you’ve met of the opposite sex in your life and you’re let to learn anything about him apart from the fact that he reads Bukowski and likes black coffee — it certainly wasn’t much to go on.

“How long do we have until you have to go back to your Grandma?”

“Not long.” You sigh sadly, “I’m sorry.”

“No, I understand, it’s okay.” He flashes you a small smile, “Can I walk you back to the hospital?”

You ponder his offer for a second, “Yeah. I’d like that.”

You walk back to the hospital brushing arms with one of the nicest people you’d ever met, and you couldn’t be happier.

“Has your Grandma been having treatment for long?”

“It’s her second round.” You explained, “They originally removed the tumour and it went away but it came back. They caught it quickly and she’s back in bay 11 for three hours every two weeks.”

“I’m sorry.” He sighs, “That must’ve been tough.”

You shrug, “She’s a fighter, I know she is.”

“I don’t doubt she is.” He smiles, “She’s got an amazing granddaughter to stay alive for.”

The walk to the hospital isn’t long enough in your opinion. You speak about a few things, and you learn he does music and that’s when you put two and two together and realise that he’s actually Harry Styles from One Direction. Harry wished he could’ve recorded your reaction when you realised.

Harry had never met someone like you, and he had met a lot of people in his life. You were sweet, and kind and so gentle but also confident and held yourself in such a strong way that he couldn’t help but want to know you, the real you.

“This is it.” You stop in front of the entrance closest to the chemo ward, “Thank you for walking me.”

“It’s no problem.” He smiles, “I hope this doesn’t sound too weird, but can I get your number?”

“Uh. . . yeah.”

“Great.” He beams, “At least now I won’t have to hope you show up at the café.”

You swear you felt your heart burst.

During your shift a couple of weeks later, you don’t notice your phone light up a message. You actually don’t notice at all until you arrived home that night. You had already checked on your Grandma, who was sound asleep in bed, and that’s when you allowed yourself to drop down upon the sofa with a sigh.

Seeing an unknown number pop up on your screen at first had confused you, but once you had looked further into it, your palms started sweating.

Hi YN. It’s Harry. I know it’s been a while but I’ve been trying to figure out what to say. I hope you and your Grandma are well.

Your heart starts to beat faster. The message you had awaited for weeks was here and you had no idea how to act, never mind what too reply back with. The only thing that spiralled around within your mind was that he had been thinking about you.

In your head, you imagined him pacing around in his large house trying to figure out what to send you, just like they do in the movies. You at least hoped that was what he had been doing over the past couple of weeks.

Hi Harry! It’s lovely to hear from you, sorry it’s late. I’m okay, Grandma’s getting there. How are you?

You throw your phone down on the sofa next to you, trying not to giggle like you did as a schoolgirl whenever you were messaging boys. You nearly cried whenever you phone ran out of credit and you’d end up having to run to the store to get a top up in the morning with your spending money and explaining to them what had happened. You were thankful that your upgrade didn’t need that.

I’m okay. Glad to hear about your Grandma. I know this is probably really weird and totally out of the blue, but are you free this weekend? I’m leaving next week for a little while and I really want to see you before I do.

In your head, you ignore the end of the message about him leaving and focus on the fact that he wants to see you. Harry Styles wants to see you. You hoped it was a date, everything pointed it to be a date but you didn’t want get too ahead of yourself.

You haven’t had a boyfriend since your first year of Sixth Form, and the first date you were going on since then was going to be with Harry Styles of all people.

If you pull some strings, work an extra long shift on Saturday and please some of Elliot’s special clients — you may be able to get Friday night off. It was a maybe, but over the next two days you could make it a yes. You hoped that you could make it a yes.

You’ve never, in your six years of working at the club, missed any of your shifts for anything other than your Grandma suddenly falling ill, and those were on rare occasions. You certainly deserved this day off.

I’ll have to check with my boss but I think I could do Friday night? If that’s not a problem for you.

You have to bite your lip to stop yourself from internally freaking out.

Sounds perfect. How about I pick you up at 8?

You wince. It wasn’t as though your were embarrassed of where you lived because you weren’t. You’ve worked hard to be able to pay for the flat and everything in it but there was something about showing it to someone who you’ve only just met and had no intention of explaining your situation to wasn’t on the top of your priority list.

Is there any chance I could meet you somewhere?

Of course. Where do you fancy eating? Italian? Thai?

Italian sounds good.

Great. I’ll send you details over.

Thank you :)

See you then, YN. Sweet dreams.

Night, Harry.

You slept well that night.

“I just don’t think I can spare you Friday.” Elliot sighs, “I’m sorry YN.”

You have to stop yourself from wanting to cry. You don’t use up all your holiday days, and you work way more than you should or that you’re paid for but you don’t complain and you just get on with it. The one time you ask for a shift off, his stubborn ass says that he cant do it.

“Please, Elliot.” You sign, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, “I just need this day off.”

“And I need my best girl on the floor. Need the best of the best.”

“There are plenty of other better girls than me working here.”

He shakes his head, “You’re the favourite, YN. Need you to be there.”

“Elliot.” You sigh, leaning forward in the uncomfortable seat you were sat in, “I’ve worked for you for six years and I’ve never asked for a day off like this before.”

“Yeah but—”

“—and! I’ve never asked for a day off apart from going to the hospital and you know that.”

“I couldn’t exactly say no to you—”

“I’ve worked every shift you’ve ever asked me to, covered for people when you need it.”

“Stop it!” He holds his hand up to silence you, “Just shut up for a second.”

You clamp your lips shut. If you didn’t need to stay on his good side to get Friday off you probably would’ve said something about how rude he was being. He’d always been rude, but he paid you and the rest of the girls so you all chose to ignore it.

He ponders, and you know the cogs are turning within his brain as he scrolls through his laptop, typing a few things. He takes his glasses off his face and drops them dramatically down on the table in front of him.

“Ruby will cover your shift.”

You let out a sigh of relief, “Thank you!”

“Don’t be thanking me too quickly.” He points his finger, “I need a favour from you.”

“Anything. Well not anything.”

“In a few weeks times there’s a big birthday party coming in.” He explains, “I need you to be the star of the show, do private dances and all the good things like that.”

“Just that?” You ask, knowing that it could be a trap knowing Elliot’s track record.

He nods, “Just that.”

You look at him sceptically, “What’s the catch?”

“No catch.” He holds his hands up, “A few big names are coming, that’s all. A list celebs that have asked to use the back exit.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“Let me know the date and I’ll do it.”

You stand up, happy that you’ve managed to get your shift tomorrow off and that you can go on the date you have been excited for since you met Harry and was introduced to the world with him in it.

“Have fun at your thing Friday.”

“Thank you. . .?”

You don’t think you like Elliot being nice to you.

Friday night rolled around quickly and you were thankful for that. After helping your Grandma with her own dinner and into bed, you start getting ready. You curl your hair, brushing it out until its in what looks like effortless waves but are actually quite hard waves to achieve. You do natural makeup, something completely different to makeup you usually wear in one of your shifts. You try to keep all of your features soft, different to how you usually look on a day to day basis. You dress in a long white polka-dotted maxi skirt, paired with a thin long-sleeved jumper that would keep you warm due to the ever changing British weather.

You had done a little bit of research on the restaurant Harry had sent you the address for and learnt that it wasn’t the most expensive restaurant ever, but one that was way out of your price range. It meant that you had to dip into the fund that you keep for occasions where you need a little extra money or you will use in the future when you eventually move out and busy your own place.

The tube was crammed, seeing as though it was a Friday night and the majority of people were either coming home from work and stating to go out for end of the week drinks. You knew that the club would start to become heaving as the night grew and a part of you was thankful that you didn’t have to work today, and you were given a small break from the hell that is working at a strip club.

The restaurant, when you arrived, definitely looked fancier than it had online. The bar stood against the corner wall, the right hand side of the restaurant had booths covering the walls whilst stand alone tables scattered around the rest of the room.

You were surprised when you saw Harry, already sat at the booth in the far right corner. He lifted his hand up in an awkward sort of wave and you couldn’t help but beam at him. He had a shirt, an expensive looking white shirt with a yellow and blue jumper over the top. You hand felt so excited to see someone since when your Grandma went into hospital for her tumour being removed and you couldn’t see her for a few days.

“YN.” He sighs, “Hi.”

“Hi.” You smile, slipping into the booth across from him.

“Was starting to think you wasn’t going to show up.”

“I’m sorry.” You tuck your hair behind your ear, “I underestimated how bust the tube was going to be.”

You can tell he wants to pry but instead he says, “It’s okay.”

His nails were painted yellow, a few of them painted lilac as well. There was something so simple about his nails that you just loved, and if it wasn’t weird you probably would’ve stared at them for way too long for it to be acceptable. You knew he had tattoos, and you could see the cross on his hand and the the anchor peaking out from underneath his shirt and you wanted to see more.

“I like your nails.” You smile, running your own fingers over your own nails underneath the table.

“Thanks.” A blush creeps up his neck, “I did them last night. Sort of calmed me down, I was quite nervous.”

“Nervous for what?”

“This.” He nods, “I haven’t been as nervous for a date in a long time.”

“You don’t have to be nervous.”

In your twenty four years of living, you’ve never had someone say that they were nervous to see you. You’ve been nervous to see and do many things in your life and you hoped that somewhere along the line it would’ve been the same for somebody else and yourself but you had the slight suspicion that wasn’t the case. Hearing those words out loud, coming from someone who you’d never expect it too was special, and you were going to keep that for as long as you physically could.

“I did.” He looks down at the table briefly, “I’ve never liked a girl as much as I like you before.”

“You don’t really know me.”

“I’d like to get to know you.”

That’s what you do. For the rest of the date you don’t stop talking. Even though you’re starving and could eat your fist, it takes you the longest you’ve ever taken to eat your food because of how much you spend it talking.

You’re just about to dig in to your desert when your body physically halts, “Why didn’t you want me to pick you up?”

“I, uh, I—”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t what to! I know I can be pretty invasive sometimes.”

“No, it’s fine!” You take a sip of your drink to swallow down the dryness within your throat, “I don’t live in the nicest building, or in the nicest area and I guess I was embarrassed.”

“You don’t have to be embarrassed.”

“But I was.” You drop your eyes to the plate in front of you, “I know I shouldn’t have been and that it was stupid but I just didn’t want you judge me before you truly knew me because of where I live.”

“I hope you know now that I wouldn’t have done that.”

“I do.”

You let Harry drive you home. Even though you would never admit it to his face just yet, you really liked him. He was kind, sweet and funny and everything you could ever want in your person. You haven’t said this in a long time but you love the person you are around him and you wouldn’t change it for the world if you didn’t have to.

He stops in the car park outside the building of flats you live in and you can tell he’s thinking deeply about something but you try to not concentrate on that too much.

“I would invite you up.” You laugh, “But I don’t think the sofa in the middle of my Grandma’s flat whilst she snores in the next room is the most romantic.”

He scrunches up his nose, “I can’t say that it is.”

“I’m sorry.” You drop your head to look at your hands that are tested on your knees, “I really wish I could offer you something. Anything.”

“It’s okay, YN.” He uses his finger to move your head up so that you’re looking at him, “I don’t expect anything from you. I hope you know that.”

“I know.”

He hesitates for a moment, and you can feel the finger that was rested upon your chin move upwards so that its upon your cheek. You flicker your eyes closed and just mask in the feeling of his touch against your cheek.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks.

You eyes open as you nod your head, letting out a shaky breath at the sheer surprise you feel at his words.

“Want your words, darling.”

“Please kiss me.”

You close your eyes again and you feel his lips touch yours. It's light at first, but you can’t contain yourself and you end up pushing closer to him, relishing in the feeling of his lips upon yours. Your fingertips grip the collar of his shirt, trying to pull him closer without hurting himself too much on the centre console. Even though you both don’t want to, you pull away as you start to loose breath.

“You okay?” Your chest heaves up and down as he speaks.

“Never been better.” You sigh, resting your forehead against his.

“Good.”

You kiss again, this time its more passionate and you can’t help but let out a small whine as he pulls away. The smug look on his face after hearing that sound was enough to send your stomach doing flips.

You really didn’t want to do this, but you had too: “I have to go.”

“It’s okay.” He smiles, “I understand.”

“Okay.” You reach for the door handle.

“I have to go away for a bit.” He sighs, “I’m writing some music over in America but when I get back, do you want to maybe go on another date?”

“I’d love to.”

He presses one last kiss to your lips and you leave the car, muttering a small, “Bye.”

You feel giddy. As though you’re sixteen again and just come back from your first date with your first boyfriend. It was something you hadn’t felt in a long time and in all honesty, you had no idea how to handle those feelings. You certainly wouldn’t admit that you screamed quietly into your pillow in excitement that night.

You couldn’t wait for him to return home.

Two weeks. Harry was away for two weeks and even though you had only kissed him once, twice if you actually count how many kisses there were, you missed him more than words could explain. You weren’t one to usually message first, so you did end up waiting until Harry had a spare moment to message you which wasn’t as often as you would’ve liked but you couldn’t complain.

You almost felt as though you had been drip fed this new life with Harry in, only to have it taken away quicker than you could blink. It wasn’t forever, and that was probably the thing keeping you sane. This had all happened in such a short amount of time but you wouldn’t change it for the world.

The only thing that limited how far you could take this was your job.

Harry had obviously been curious and during a text conversation in the first week of his week being away — he asked what you did. After having a small freak out you decided to say that you worked in a bar. It was a small, white lie and you hated yourself for it but telling him that you were a stripper just didn’t feel like the best thing to do at that time.

You just weren’t ready to tell him, and that was totally okay.

Speaking of your work, tonight was the night of the big party that Elliot made sure you could come to. The club had held celebrity parties before, so you weren’t entirely nervous but every time someone mentioned it you could feel your heart speeding up slightly.

“Emerald.” You turn to look at Elliot who’s trudging towards you, a bag in hand, “Here’s your new outfit for tonight.”

“New? I thought I’d just wear the one for special occasions.”

“This is a special, special occasion Emerald.” He dropped the bag down in front of you, “Wear this.”

Taking the material out of the bag, your mouth dropped open at the sight of the emerald green lingerie in your hands. It was delicate lace that you feared you’d rip if you weren’t too careful. Putting it on, your breasts slightly spilled over the lace, and whilst your front was covered, the thong back of the lingerie left your ass on full display. It was beautiful, you couldn’t dismiss that but you just hadn’t ever worn something so skimpy before. You pulled your black silk robe over your shoulders, fastened your black heels onto your feet and made your way towards the side of the stage.

The skimpiness of the new lingerie did send more butterflies to the pit of your stomach than you were originally hoping for but it was only another hurdle for you to get over which you knew you’d be able to do.

You heard the music start to play, you slipped your hand through the gap in the curtain and opened it, revealing yourself to the room.

Here goes nothing, you mumble to yourself.

Harry’s jaw dropped at the sight of you on the stage. It certainly wasn’t his usual scene, a strip club, but it was a friend of a friends birthday and he had kindly been invited and he wasn’t about to turn it down. He wasn’t in the band anymore, and certainly didn’t have to hide that he went to places like this anymore, even though they weren’t his favourite.

He couldn’t bare his eyes off of you. The way your body moved to the rhythm of the song, your darkly manicured nails pushed the robe of your shoulders, exposing the delicate lingerie you were wearing. Harry would be lying if he said that his cock didn’t start to stir at the sight.

You. The girl who he thought spent her days reading, and looking after Grandma had a secret persona that he only wanted to explore more.

“My word.” One of the men in the group spoke, loudly so that everyone could hear him, “She’s fit as fuck.”

“To get my hands on her.”

Harry clenches his jaw, and his fist that rested on the arm of his chair. If he wasn’t in a very public place where people could record him, he’d give that man a piece of his mind. He probably would but he’d do it when nobody was around so the man could truly understand what he was saying to him.

“Do you think I could get a dance with her?” The birthday boy asked.

“It’s your birthday.” The dickhead with no morals spoke, “She might give you something special as a present.”

“The rules say no touching.” The words slip out of Harry’s mouth before he can stop them, “So I highly doubt that.”

“I’m sure you’d be saying something different if you were in his position, Styles.”

Harry rolled his eyes and focused his attention back on the stage, watching as you seductively bent down to pick up some of the tips that had been thrown on the bottom of the stage. The song was slowly finishing and Harry couldn’t help but feel a little bit of disappointment bubbling within him.

Harry watched your lean legs as you strutted towards the side of the stage, flicking the long wig on your head over your shoulder, seductively running your tongue over your bottom lip as you pulled the material of the lingerie down from your breasts.

Harry bit his lip, his leg bounced, he ran his hand up and down his thigh. He tried to do everything in his power to distract himself from the rousing within his trousers but he just couldn’t do it. The flimsy material dropped to the floor, your red painted lips curled up into a smirk and you made your way behind the curtain, not showing any of your truly bare skin.

If you hadn’t been imprinted on his brain before, you certainly were now.

You could hear the grunts and groans of happiness, and a few cheers whilst on stage but the lights were so bright that you couldn’t see anything past the first row or so. The tips you had received were good, and you were pleased about that.

You received your robe and bra back from the stage and pulled them back onto your body. Your solo dance was always a hit for Elliot, and you supposed that was why he’s kept you on for so long and if you were honest, they were the easiest to do. Private dances always made you too uncomfortable, and in the six years you’ve worked there there had only been a handful of people that made you feel comfortable when it came to private dances.

“Emerald.” Elliot walks in smiling and you assume everything is swell on the floor, “They fucking love you.”

You nod your head, muttering a small and awkward, “Thank you.”

He hums, “You’ve been requested for a private dance, and he’s promised to pay you accordingly.”

“Really?”

Another hum, “Room Two. I think he’s already there.”

“Thanks.”

He leaves the room, a bounce in his step. You suppose that this is a good thing and he’ll finally get off your back for the time you took off for the date with Harry. You at least hoped.

You checked yourself. You made sure your makeup still looked flawless, your breasts sat perfectly within the material and your arse looked good. You brush through the wig once and make your way towards room two, the smaller of the three private dance rooms which helped it be more intimate.

You smiled at the bouncer at the door, Gerry, a man who looked as though he could kill someone with a single punch but was actually a massive teddy bear. He was good at his job of keeping everyone safe and making sure that the bad eggs that came in left just as quickly.

Watching the door slowly open, Harry felt his heart stop. He had been pacing up and down the room ever since he had walked in, and only just stopped when he heard the creek of the door. He couldn’t believe that you were in front of him, and you certainly couldn’t believe that he was in front of you either.

“YN. . .” He sounded breathless.

“Harry?” He could see your chest rising and falling at a quick pace, “What? How? I thought you were in America.”

He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly, “I got back last night.”

“Why are you here?” He can hear the lump in your throat as you speak, your eyes glossing over.

“A Birthday party.”

“Yours?”

“No!” He’s quick to interrupt, “A friend of a friend. It’s not mine. Mine’s in February, and I certainly don’t think I’ll be having my party here. Not that there’s anything wrong with here! It’s lovely! You’re lovely! I’m rambling.”

He was so gosh darn cute and if you weren’t in the middle of a break down, you probably would’ve laughed or at least reacted to his little word vomit. It was probably the quickest you’d ever heard him talk, not that it was hard.

After a few minutes of contemplating what to say, you sigh, “I’m sorry.”

His voice is soft, his features falling, “What are you sorry for?”

“Lying to you.” You drop your gaze to the floor, trying to suppress the tears, “I didn’t want to.”

“Hey, hey.” He walks over to you, placing his finger underneath your chin just like he had done in the car weeks ago, “No need to get upset, I’m not.”

“You should be.” You bottom lip quivers, “I lied to you and I had no intention to retract that just yet.”

“YN.” He rests his palms on your cheeks, “I’m not angry. I’m not upset. I just want to know why.”

“I was scared.” You admit, trying to do anything but look up at him, “I didn’t know what you’d think or if you’d change your mind.”

“Change my mind about what?”

“Wanting too, you know. . .?”

He shakes his head, “I wouldn’t. There’s no reason for me to.”

“I’m a stripper Harry, it gives you full reason to not want to be associated with me.” You lift your hand to wipe your under-eye.

“I’m not judging you, YN, I said I wouldn’t.”

“I wouldn’t be upset if you did.”

“YN.” His voice is stern, more so than it had been, “I don’t care that you’re a stripper.”

“You don’t.”

“No.” He smiles, “I don’t.”

“Fuck.” You let out a breath of relief, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“I don’t mind.” He shrugs, “If you didn’t want to, you didn’t have to.”

You had never met someone like him, and no matter how many times he surprised you that was just fact. Granted, you hadn’t had time to date anyone with looking after your Grandma but another reason you didn’t was because of what they would think of you.

You knew that not everyone would be was understanding and lovely as Harry had been, and that was just because of the lovely person he was inside and out. That was the reason you didn’t tell him, because even though you had an inclination that he was accepting but you didn’t know whether that was just a façade or he was like that in real life. You loved that he was like that in real life.

“Can I be honest?” You nod, “I enjoyed it.”

You bite your lip to suppress the smile that threatened to cross your lips, “You did?”

He hums, beaming a smile at you.

“If you wouldn’t mind.” The corner of his lips tugs upwards, “I’d still love to get that private dance.”

You roll your eyes and thwack his shoulder playfully, “If you must.”

“I’ll wait for you.” He nods, “Until your shift is over, if you want.”

“Please.”

“I’ll see you then.”

You hadn’t even made it completely into Harry’s house before his lips were on yours. He pushed you up against his front door before he’d even shut it properly, his lips falling upon yours with a hunger you hadn’t felt since you last kissed him.

Maybe it was his hands rested upon the small of your back, your fingers threading through the curls at the nape of his neck.

��Can I offer you a drink?” He smirks against your lips.

“Not the priority.” You reply, not bringing your lips away from his.

“Noted.” He places a kiss to your jaw, “Upstairs?”

“Upstairs.”

You follow him up the stairs, your hand rested firmly in his. You’re too distracted by the man in front of you to take any notice of the house or where you were going.

Harry had kept true to his word and waited for you. You secretly wished that you could have recorded the group’s reaction as you walked towards him, a small smile on your face. After bidding them goodbye, the two of you jumped in a taxi that Harry had ordered and made your way to his house, or what you expected to be his house and you weren’t disappointed.

The second you step into the plushly decorated room, you’re kissing again. His hands slide down to rest upon curve of your ass, his ring-clad fingers immediately squeezing the flesh. You groan lightly into his mouth, allowing his tongue to slip through her parted lips. You grip his bicep as he leads your backwards into the room, your calves hitting the bed as he does so.

Your lips part, you fall back onto the bed. You look up at him through your eyelashes, your fingertips reaching to pull the shirt he was wearing over his head. You almost swoon there and then at the sight of the tattoos littering his skin. You lean forward and place a kiss on his lower stomach, just before his happy trail that slips into the band of his trousers.

You bite your lip, grinning up at him.

“What are you planning?”

“I don’t know.” You shrug, “What do you want me to be planning?”

He groans, “Anything at this point.”

You reach forward, taking the button of his trousers in your fingers. You look up, “Is this okay?”

“More than okay, baby.”

You unbutton his trousers, wrapping your finger in the waistband and pulling them down. You can already see the tent in his boxers. You wondered how long he had been like this, you wondered if it had been since your dances.

You blush slightly as you hook your fingers now into the waistband of his boxers, looking up at him. You can’t handle the look on his face, the slight blush but the boyish grin mixed with his curls that had fallen forward upon his forehead. You pull the fabric down, exposing his hard cock. You watch as it hits his stomach briefly, the tip swollen. You lift your hand up, wrapping it around him before giving him a few pumps. His stomach quivers as you do so, a groan escaping him as you wrap your lips around his tip. His eyes flutter closed as you start to bob your head, his fingers reaching forward to grab your hair into a ponytail.

“Fuck baby.” His hips involuntarily buck forward. You sink further down, going as far as you could.

Harry couldn’t believe how good he felt. It had been a while since he had been with someone, and it was worth the wait. You pulled away too soon in his opinion, but the sight of you, all teary eyed and sloppy sent his mind spiralling.

“God.” He bent down and wrapped his arms around your thighs, lifting you up so he could move you further up the bed, “You’re fucking killing me here.”

“Good.” You giggle.

He’s quick to remove your shirt, allowing you to pull your jeans down at the same time. He didn’t expect you to still be in the lingerie from earlier, and if it was physically possible, he swore his cock hardened even more.

“Fuck me.”

He leans forward, pressing his lips to yours again as his fingers fumble with the latch of your bra. You bite your bottom lip as he wraps his around your nipple, flicking it with his tongue. He uses his hand to knead the other one. You can’t help but grind your hips forwards, a feeling bubbling deep in the pit of your stomach that you hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Harry.” You moan, withering under his touch.

He kisses down from your lips, to your jaw, down your neck until he’s littering them all the way to the band of your underwear.

“Is this okay?”

“More than okay.” You whine as he lets out a breath upon the thin material.

He pulls your underwear down, teasing you by placing kisses across your thighs and pubic bone. He’s so close, yet so far from the place that you need him the most. He licks a stripe across your centre, until he wraps his lips around your clit. You can’t help the moans that escape your parted lips as he nibbles and flicks your sensitive nub, her thighs starting to shake as he coaxes her closer and closer to her orgasm.

“Don’t stop.” You thread your fingers through his hair, “God! Harry.”

He pulls away, and you let out a shaky breath as he does so.

“No fair.” You whine.

“Life isn’t.”

“Just shut up and get a condom.” He does as you request, placing a small peck to your lips as he reached over to grab a condom from the drawer beside the bed.

You watch as he rips the packet open with his teeth, pulling the rubber down his length. He presses another kiss to your lips, catching her eyesight once more.

“Are you sure?”

“More than okay.”

He hovers over you, rubbing his tip up and down your wet folds to coax a moan out of your lips. He groans into your shoulder as he pushes in, biting down briefly to suppress the sound.

“Don’t.” You moan, scratching your nails down his back as he starts to thrust in and out of you, “Let me hear you.”

“Fuck.” You squeeze him slightly, “Do that again.”

He speeds up, catching your lips as your hips meeting quicker, the only sound in the room being your skin slapping each others. You slip one of your hands between the two of you, your nimble fingers rubbing your clit.

“Where have you been all my life?” You can’t help the pleasurable giggle that escapes your lips.

“Feel so good, H.”

After a few more thrusts, a couple more circles of her clit and she’s comes around his cock, squeezing him tightly as she did so.

“Fuck, shit, oh god.”

He continues to thrust in and out of you, coaxing you through your orgasm and towards his. He seems to go deeper and deeper until he’s spilling inside the condom, his moans louder than any you had heard before.

“God.” He collapses on top of you, taking a few seconds to collect himself and let you collect yourself, “Haven’t felt like that in a long time.”

“Glad I could be of some assistance.” You push the hair that had matted to your face off.

“You should keep secrets from me more often.’

“I’m never doing that again.”

“Good.” He pecks your lips.

#harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x yn #harry styles x you #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles smut fic

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luxekook · 4 years

Text

𝗙𝗢𝗨𝗥 | 𝘬𝘵𝘩

⇥ pairing: quadruplet!taehyung x reader

⇥ genre: crack, smut

⇥ summary: in which the reader lives next door to taehyung… and his three brothers. she doesn’t realize they’re quadruplets until it’s just a little too late.

⇥ word count: 7.5k

⇥ warnings: 18+, cursing/dirty talk, alcohol, general chaotic energy [as usual], one hard dom!taehyung and three soft dom!taehyungs, sub!reader, pet name: kitten, smut (breast worship, oral [f receiving], bondage, spanking, slight degrading name-calling during sex, mention of daddy kink, ownership kink, four taehyungs lovin’ on the **READER** [***NOT EACH OTHER***])

⇥ beta’d by: the lovely phia (@meowxyoong) and the cutie ally (@ally-127), and read over by the iconic heath (@shadowsremedy)

The Kim Quadruplets:

Mic Drop!Tae as “V” Boy With Luv!Tae as “Vante” Pied Piper!Tae as “Hansung” ON!Tae as “Taehyung”

Of all the days to forget your umbrella, your brain just had to choose today. You cursed your faulty memory as you shuffled your drenched sneakers across the ‘Welcome’ mat of your apartment building. As someone who prided themselves on being prepared and dependable, you were thoroughly angry at yourself for dropping the ball. Lightning flashed through the windows of the lobby, but you barely flinched - already used to the noise after a lengthy walk home from work.

You worked part-time at a small indie coffee shop called ‘Grind On Me’, which was located halfway across town. The shop was owned by an eccentric middle-aged woman named Reese who still had not gotten over the tragic loss of Vine. The menu was full of references to the fallen application: “Oovoo Java”, “Coulda Dropped My Croissant”, “Avocado Toast, Thanks!”, and “Back At It Again With The Refill”.

The best part of your job was definitely fucking around with your co-workers Jess and Cal. Reese often scheduled the three of you together because your “combined chaotic energy” was “on-brand”. Basically, the three of you would spend your shifts roasting coffee and roasting each other, while Reese looked on like a proud mom. You loved it.

The rest of your time was filled with school. You were up to your neck in your studies; but, with just one semester left until graduation, you were more determined than ever to stick it out. As a literature major, you spent many hours hunched over your trusty MacBook, fingers flying across the keys. Creating new worlds and constructing well-rounded characters was intoxicating. Every new document was a chance to bring ideas to life, an opportunity to make someone laugh or cry, a possibility to both mend and break hearts.

But, your absolute guiltiest pleasure was writing romance - and not the lovey-dovey kind. No, you wrote the racy kind of romance: the heart-pounding smut, the kinky (well-written and well-researched) BDSM, the raunchiest threesomes. You always wondered what your professors would think if you submitted one of your erotic novels to be graded; but, for now, you settled for posting to your loyal audience on Tumblr and for fantasizing about someday fulfilling the filthy scenes you wrote about.

Your most recent fantasy was inspired by the rainfall. Kissing in the midst of a storm like people did in those cliché movies… fucking as the rain poured over you… hands sliding down your slippery skin…

“Woah.” Hands grabbed your hips, halting you from continuing to walk forward absentmindedly. You jumped, your mind jarred from your fantasy and back to reality.

“I am so sorry,” You breathed out, “My mind was somewhere else.”

“I’ll say,” The deepest and most divine voice you had ever heard sounded from the figure in front of you. You looked up, desperate to know the source of such a dulcet tone. You were not disappointed.

The boy was beautiful.

His skin was the color of warm honey, his dark eyes sparkled with bad intentions, his full lips curled into a sly grin. “I would pay good money to know what you were thinking about just now, kitten,” The boy’s grin widened, displaying a cute boxy smile that did nothing to take away from the implications of his words.

“I’m not your kitten,” You glared at the blonde boy in front of you, shoving aside both his hands and the traitorous warmth that bloomed inside you at the pet name. With those words, you sidestepped around him and trudged to go check your mail. Your heart flipped in your chest when you heard the soft pitter-patter of footsteps following close behind you.

“Ever heard of an umbrella, kitten?” You could hear his smile in his infuriating words, and you shot him a glare.

“Yes, actually. Have you ever heard of manners?” You bit out, punching in the key code to your small mailbox.

The boy’s laugh sent a shiver down your spine that you tried to rationalize as a chill. God, he was maddeningly handsome. You grabbed the small bunch of letters shoved in your mailbox and were so ready to hightail it out of there, when he grabbed your wrist.

The sight of his long fingers wrapped around your wrist made your mind flash to scenes of him holding your wrists above your head as he thrusts, hips swiveling and pounding into you… him holding your wrists behind your back as he kneels in front of you, tongue deep in your—

“Kitten.” Your attention snapped back to him, your eyes wide and your cheeks flushed. Fuck, you really needed to shut your inner ho of a writer off sometimes…

He winked, “Next time you’re going to have to share what’s going on in that head of yours. I’ll be seeing you around, neighbor.”

With those parting words, he sauntered out of the mailroom, flipping the hood of his grey sweatshirt up over his wavy blonde strands as he tugged his dark bomber jacket closer around him.

Neighbor?

You were so fucked.

A few days later, you still had not forgotten your blonde self-proclaimed neighbor, no matter how hard you tried. And, god, you had tried. No amount of smutty fan fiction or archaic romance tropes could quell your thirst.

You didn’t even know his name.

Jess and Cal had urged you to just knock on his door and introduce yourself, but you knew it wasn’t that simple. First, you had more than one apartment neighboring yours. You were not about to knock on each and every door in your hallway to find some mystery boy - even if he did call you kitten and smelled like summer nights. Second, you had already written so much filth inspired by your brief encounter that you feared you might not survive being in the same vicinity as him without spontaneously combusting or jumping on him.

And third, you were just so intimidated by him and his dominating presence. Even though you spent just a few minutes with him, you knew that you would have fallen to your knees before him if he’d demanded it… And he really looked like the type to demand.

Now every damn time you entered your apartment building, your eyes sought him out. You jumped out of your skin at every ding of the elevator, half fearing and half hoping he might be getting off. Your heart pounded whenever you walked down your hallway to unlock your door, waiting for him to swing open his own door to greet you with a smirk and some sarcastic words.

But, nothing had happened. And you were beginning to think he might have just been a rain-induced hallucination. Those were a thing, right?

You shook yourself out of your disastrous train of thought. Your shift at ‘Grind On Me’ was approaching, and you really needed to make some money. Rent, unfortunately, just didn’t pay itself. Tugging on your non-slip black sneakers, you made sure to grab your umbrella - just like you had the previous couple days, despite the clear forecast. You would not be caught out - or called out - again.

You push open your apartment door, shoving your umbrella deep into your tote bag and stepping out into the hall. You were entirely unprepared for the sight you were met with.

The boy from earlier that week was fumbling near the door across from you with what looked like an entire art store crammed into half a dozen reusable bags. He was mumbling about some Han character who couldn’t “get off his ass for one second to help him”. And, his hair was a bright shade of blue.

His. Hair. Was. Blue.

You must have made some sort of choking noise because suddenly he whipped around to face you. His wide eyes latched onto yours, and you couldn’t help but think that there was something peculiar about him today - even besides the hair.

A light flush bloomed on the boy’s face that you were sure was mirrored on your own tenfold. Shit, he really could pull off that shade of blue… Your eyes involuntarily slid lower to check out his white slouchy ‘CELINE” t-shirt, his black Adidas sweatpants, his bag hung casually off one muscular shoulder. You swallowed suddenly craving some water.

“Uh, hey, neighbor,” You waved at him idiotically as he continued to just stare. You lowered your hand and fought the urge to smack yourself for your lame actions.

The boy blinked and then smiled that same boxy smile as before, “Hi! I would wave back, but I’m kind of tied down right now.”

You let out a very uncharacteristic giggle, “And I would offer to help you, but I’m already late for work. Don’t worry, I have my umbrella this time.”

Grabbing your umbrella from your bag, you waved it briefly in the air before returning it to its resting place. “Bye!” You called over your shoulder at the bewildered blue-haired boy, “Love the new hair by the way!”

“Uh, thank you?” He called after you. As you stepped into the elevator, you swore you heard him say something about having good weather with no chance of rain, but you were too busy thinking about how nice he was today.

And about how he didn’t call you kitten.

You were so, so fucked.

When you got to work, you were immediately bombarded with questions from Jess and Cal.

Jess: “Wait. His hair is blue now? Does he look like a hot Smurf?”

Cal: “So, no “kitten”? Throws phone. Stomps on skateboard.”

You: “Did you just try to use the ‘So No Head' Vine out loud?”

Reese: "She sure did." *wipes away tear proudly*

They continued to clown on you for another hour while some of your favorite regulars filed in and out, grabbing their late afternoon coffees.

One of your particular favorites was an enigmatic individual named Heath. You, Jess and Cal were about 85% certain that Heath was a sugar daddy based on his regular order (the "Valentino Flat White") and the large amount of tips he always left (at least $20 for each barista on duty).

Another favorite customer of yours was Tay. She tended to skulk in the corner of the cafe, typing away on her phone and occasionally letting out loud bursts of laughter. Once, you had asked what she was writing, but she just looked at you like you had asked for her darkest secret. You figured it was something juicy.

Sighing, you checked the clock on the wall for the umpteenth time that evening - 6:50PM. Two more hours til you could go home, throw on some sweatpants, and drink a glass of cheap wine.

Wiping down the coffee bar, you heard a throat clear behind you. "Be right with you!" You called over your shoulder, placing the wipe in the garbage before turning to take their order.

"Oh," You gasped as you took in the new customer, "Your hair!"

"My hair?" Your neighbor that you had seen just hours before tugged his hands through his now-brown waves, "Is there something wrong with it..." His dark eyes flicked to your name-tag, “(y/n)?”

"N-no," You gulped, wondering what happened to the cute blushing blue-haired boy from earlier. Your neighbor really was giving you whiplash with his different moods. "What can I get for you?"

"Your number." His boxy grin was lethal, his voice was sultry.

You blinked at him. "You could have just knocked on my door later if you needed me."

His eyebrows flew up, "Oh really? I like the sound of that. You'd have to give me your address though, kitten."

"Very funny," You scoffed. Your insides turned to mush over the return of the nickname that you hated to love. "Now, seriously, what can I get for you?"

"Surprise me," He winked, handed you $50 and sauntered to a nearby table.

Gaping, you shook yourself out of your trance and got to work on his 'surprise' - an "I Thought You Were Americano".

"Who is that?" You jumped two feet in the air at Jess' hissed question. She was hovering right behind you as you poured the espresso into his to-go cup.

"My fucking hair chameleon of a neighbor!" You whispered back, conveying your panic, “Deliver this to him, would you?“ You tried in vain to shove the hot Americano into Jess' hands but she dodged your efforts.

"Oh no, bitch,” She laughed, "I am going to watch from afar as this plays out."

"Goddamn you," You shot her your best side-eye and stalked off to deliver the drink to your godforsaken neighbor.

The boy in question flicked his eyes up to look at you as you approached his table. He was wearing a flowy button-down shirt with at least four of the buttons undone, showcasing a tan and very toned chest. His legs were spread wide, encased in tight black slacks that left little to the imagination.

You gulped, trying not to imagine yourself perched on his lap and grinding into his hard––

"See something you like, kitten?" You jerked out of your daze and looked at his amused face. "I know I do."

You decided to be bratty. "Nope, nothing too impressive for me to see." You smiled sweetly as you deposited his drink on the table in front of him.

He licked his lips slowly, "God, if you were mine..." He trailed off, eyes narrowed on yours. Your mouth dried as the image of the two of you in a dark bedroom flashed into your mind. You sprawled out across his lap, his hands smacking your ass, your underwear pulled to the side…

“Yeah, you get the picture,” Your neighbor’s crooked smirk was downright obscene as his eyes flashed to your lips briefly. “I’ll see you later tonight, kitten. You know, when I come knocking at your door.”

With that parting remark, he stood, raised his americano in your direction, and strutted out the door.

You stood rooted to the spot, gaping after him for god knows how long.

“She’s gotta move at some point,” Cal’s voice vaguely sounded from the side of you.

“I don’t know,” Jess’ response sounded from your other side, “I once saw her stare out at a speck of dust for like fifteen minutes straight.”

That got you. “It was not fifteen minutes!” You defended yourself, “And it’s not my fault that I happened to be writing a coffeehouse AU at that time!”

Your friends cackled as you stomped back behind the counter.

Your friends were evil, and so was your neighbor, of that you were certain.

And you were so, so, so fucked.

Hours later, you were still thinking about your fucking neighbor. Why were you only meeting him now? Why was his hair always changing colors? Why did he fuck with you so much? Why did you like it?

All of these questions bounced around your brain as you entered your building, your eyes seeking out the boy instinctively. But, as before, he was nowhere to be seen.

You shuffled over to the ancient elevator and punched the 'Up' button a few more times than necessary. Something must be wrong with you. You were way too infatuated with your way too infuriating neighbor.

The elevator doors parted, and you automatically sighed in relief and disappointment as you entered the empty space. Pushing the button to your floor, you waited for the doors to close.

“Wait!”

A shudder trailed down your spine as you watched the doors re-open to let the subject of your thoughts onto the lift. He was wearing yet another outfit that was different from earlier - a white tank top with loose pants adorned with decorative zippers.

And was that a fucking tattoo?

There was no way you had missed that in your previous encounters. He must have felt your piercing stare because his eyes flashed over to yours. “See something you like?”

“You have a tattoo!” You blurted out.

“Um, yeah, I do. Nice observation,” Your neighbor looked at you weirdly. “Aren’t you going to ask what floor I need?”

“You and your fucking jokes,” You rolled your eyes at him.

The boy’s eyebrows shot up, and he looked at you intently, “Ah, so you’re kitten.”

Your insides into jelly, and you decided the safest tactic would now be to ignore him.

“Now, now, kitten,” He crowded your space, backing you up against the elevator wall, “It’s impolite to ignore your neighbor.”

“Well, it’s against the commandments to covet your neighbor, isn’t it?” You sniffed, pretending to not be affected by his sheer size and dangerous aura. The tattoo curling up his neck demanded your attention, and you only wished you could pay your respects with your tongue.

“I’m pretty sure they said something about coveting a neighbor’s wife… you’re not married are you, kitten? Got a boyfriend, girlfriend or partner that we don’t know about?” His breath mingled with your own, his lips so close to your own.

Wait, we?

Your thoughts were interrupted by the elevator’s arrival at your floor. Ducking under his corded arms, you scurried out of the elevator and down the hall towards your apartment.

Of course, he lazily trailed after you.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” You shot over your shoulder at him as you neared your door. “We just met like two days ago.”

His grin turned feral, “Yes, kitten, of course we did. Hey, why don’t you come over for a drink? You’re right; we don’t really know each other. Let’s change that.”

You weighed your options. Hanging out with him could drive you absolutely crazy or it could lead to something you previously could only write about.

He lounged against the wall next to your door in await of your answer. He raised a hand to brush his hair out of his eyes, and your eyes caught a sudden flash of silver. Was that an honest to god nipple piercing you just saw?

All rational exited the building. “Sure, but only for a little bit. Let me just change real quick.”

“Great, kitten,” His eyes flared, “Wear something comfortable. Just knock when you’re ready.”

You just nodded mutely as you entered your apartment and then shut the door. What the fuck were you getting yourself into?

After ten panicked minutes of you running around your apartment in search of ‘comfortable’ clothes, you were poised to knock on your still nameless neighbor’s door. You glanced down at your cropped t-shirt, leggings and running shoes. It would do. Besides, you had your lucky lingerie on underneath just in case.

Before you could even knock, the door flew open. “I was beginning to worry you were just going to stand there all night, kitten.” Your neighbor pouts, “And then we wouldn’t get to have any fun.”

You rolled your eyes. “Aren’t you supposed to invite me inside?”

His lips twitched, “How vampiresque of you, (y/n).”

You smiled broadly, “If I was a vampire, I would definitely have killed you already. You’re really fucking annoying.”

He stared at you for a split second before throwing his head back and laughing. The amount of neck that was in your face was heavenly; and, suddenly, you questioned whether vampires actually had it right this whole time.

“Well, kitten. I’m Taehyung. Please, do come in,” He opened the door wider, still chuckling lowly, “Would you like anything to drink? I think we have wine and maybe some beer hiding in the fridge somewhere.”

There was that pesky ‘we’ again.

“Red wine sounds good, thank you,” You said, plopping yourself down on one of the deep wooden barstools lining the marble kitchen island. You watched as he poured two glasses and handed one to you. Just as you were about to ask if he had roommates, Taehyung held up his glass.

“Cheers to being very friendly neighbors,” He said, sitting in the stool next to yours and staring intently at you.

“Cheers,” You echoed, clinking your glasses together and then taking a sip. Your eyes widened both from the sight of Taehyung drinking – his throat tipped back, his eyes dark on yours – and the deliciousness of the wine. It was an intense ruby red pinot noir that somehow tasted of fruit and of smokey spice all at once. It was honestly so fucking good that you just knew it had to be exorbitantly expensive. You licked your lips, making sure not to miss a single drop.

Taehyung’s eyes latched onto the movement. “You know,” He murmured, “They say if you hold eye contact while toasting, you’ll keep having good sex.”

You almost spat out your second sip of wine. Just as you were about to risk it all and say you would actually have to start having sex for that to happen, a crashing sound echoed from the dark hallway to your left.

“Shit,” Taehyung cursed, glaring in the direction the sound had come from, “I need to go and check what that was. Are you all right out here for a minute?”

You shrugged and nodded, swirling your wine around your glass.

“Be right back,” Taehyung brushed his hand over your cheek for a split second before stalking down the hallway in search of whatever had caused the ruckus.

Your hand flew to your now-warm cheek. Fuck, were you really crushing on your cute neighbor with the mood-swings?

Ugh, you were.

You glanced speculatively around his apartment. It was so much nicer than yours… The minimalist but chic decor just screamed rich vibes. However, there were a few oddities that made you frown. Four sets of keys hung by the front door. Four sets of shoes were lined up in the foyer. Four different color coded markings were on the calendar pinned to the wall.

Four different versions of Taehyung smiled back at you from a photo stuck to the fridge.

“Hello again, kitten,” The low voice startled you from your internal panic. Reluctantly turning to face them, you cursed your own stupidity. The blonde version of Taehyung that you met a few days ago grinned back at you.

“Fucking brothers,” You moaned, slouching over on the kitchen island and placing your head in your hands, “You’re all fucking brothers.”

“Quadruplets, actually,” He unhelpfully added, “I’m V. You’re (y/n), right?”

“Were you all just eavesdropping on me and Taehyung, or what?” You knew your were being petty right now, but you felt blindsided by your own lack of awareness and the brothers’ obvious lack of tact.

“Kind of,” Blue-haired Taehyung exited the hallway, “Sorry, (y/n).”

It was honestly unfair how sweet Blue was. “It’s okay. What’s your name?”

“Vante,” He waved at you and grinned, “See? I can finally wave back now!”

If you could turn into a human version of ‘uwu’, you would have done so right then and there.

“Stop flirting with her, Vante,” Coffee-shop Taehyung enters the kitchen followed closely by the actual Taehyung, “Let me introduce myself, kitten. I…” He gripped your hand and brought it to his lips, “Am Hansung.” His lips brushed over your knuckles as the words poured out of his mouth.

You blinked at him as it clicked, “Oh, so you’re the Han that wouldn’t get off his ass!”

Hansung choked, dropping your hand as his brothers cried with laughter. “Who said that?” He rounded on his brothers, “Who?”

Vante shot you a desperate look; and, since you had already internally declared him your favorite, you kept the information to yourself. “I don’t see how that matters when you all clearly have been keeping me in the dark about the fact that there are four of you.”

“I mean,” Taehyung began, “Technically we didn’t not tell you. You just never asked.”

Your blood boiled, “And how the fuck would I know to ask? Should I have consulted a psychic? Scoured the census data? Kept tabs on the entire population of quadruplets nationwide?”

You stared down each of the boys. Vante and Hansung at least looked a tad sheepish, but Taehyung and V just looked amused.

“You were right,” Taehyung nudged V, “She is feisty.”

You contemplated your options: 1) Kill V and bury the body deep in the nearby woods, 2) Dramatically exit the apartment and never speak to these demonspawn ever again, or 3) Chug this miraculous tasting wine.

You chose option three.

No regrets.

Looking at each of them, you felt like you could be the stock image for the word ‘shooketh’. Fuck, you had thought it was overwhelming when there was just one of them in your mind. But, now? You were in full panic mode over the sheer amount of masculinity and identical good looks that surrounded you.

“You know what?” You said after draining your glass, “I really don’t like being made to look like a fool. And that’s what you all did to me this whole week.” You saw Vante open his mouth, and you cut him off, “Some more than others… but, still, you knew where I lived. You could have just introduced yourself separately.”

You stood, glancing over the boys’ varying degrees of pouts and sighing. “Yeah, I’m out of here.”

Making your way over to the door, you were suddenly cut off by V. He leaned heavily against the door, successfully blocking your smooth exit.

“V, move.”

“No, you need to hear us out, kitten,” He murmured, looking down at you with an intense expression you couldn’t quite put your finger on. “Could you do that for us?”

You spared a glance over your shoulder, and sure enough, the other three were right there. Vante stared at you pleadingly. Hansung shot you a wink. Taehyung snapped his gaze up to yours… Had he been checking out your ass?

Deciding not to pay them any mind, you turned back around to face V and shrugged, “Fine, two minutes.”

“Good girl.”

A shiver coursed down your spine. You didn’t even know which brother behind you muttered those two words, and, yet, perhaps that made it all the more thrilling.

V shot a glare over your head and then refocused on you. “Kitten, we’re sorry. We just really like to tease, and you made it so easy.” Seeing your glare, he continued, “We didn’t mean to make you upset. That wasn’t our intention at all… it was the complete opposite, actually.”

Taehyung moved in front of you, next to V. “Why don’t we start over? Come over for dinner tomorrow night at eight. We’ll have a proper introduction to our neighborly relationship.”

You mulled it over in your mind. Embarrassment warred with infatuation. Worst case scenarios clashed with the best of cases. Images of a dark bedroom with multiple partners contrasted with words typed on a laptop screen.

Finally, as the seconds ticked by, you decided to ask yourself: ‘What would your characters do?’

They would fuck them all.

“Okay,” You sighed, eyeing the two boys in front of you and then the two behind, “But you better make something edible.”

“Challenge accepted,” V’s eyes glinted wickedly.

“It wasn’t even––” You cut yourself off. Though you only had met V twice thus far, you knew it was virtually impossible to make him back down from anything he perceived as a dare. “You know what? Sure, it’s a challenge. I’ll be the Gordon Ramsey; you’ll be the crying contestants.”

A stifled giggle sounds from behind you that you suspect belonged to Vante.

“That mouth…” Taehyung muttered. His tongue swiped along his lower lip as he stared you down.

Suddenly, Hansung popped out from behind you and shoved his two brothers out of the way of the door. “Allow me, kitten,” He swung it open in a flourish, bowing as he cleared your way out. Your lips twitched. That boy was so extra.

“Thank you, Han,” You smiled and waved as you exited their apartment, “I guess I’ll be seeing you tomorrow night…” Walking the short distance across the hall to your own apartment, you unlock your door, step inside, and then turn back to see if they were still there.

They were.

All four of them peered back at you from their doorway. “Shoo!” You laughed, waving them away before slamming your door shut.

You were so, so, so, so fucked.

Four’s hands ghosted over your skin, caressing the dips of your curves. You shuddered as Three’s tongue slides across your pussy.

“You like that, kitten?” One asks, as he watches from the armchair in the corner of the room, “You like my brothers ruining you?” You weren’t fooled by his lack of participation; you knew One pulled the strings. “Answer me.”

“Yes, daddy,” You moan out as Two sucks one of your nipples in his mouth and asoidfjgioykl—

The ringing of your doorbell caused you to key-smash in panic. “Coming!” You called out, flustered over the interruption and over the filth you just wrote about your neighbors.

You padded over to the door and peered out the peep-hole. It was Hansung. Your breath caught in your throat as you try to push the vivid scenes you just wrote out of your mind.

Pulling open the door, you greeted him with a smile, “Hey, what’s up?”

“Hi…” Hansung trailed off, his eyes roving over your body. You glanced down at your typical loungewear - an oversized t-shirt and sleep shorts. Nothing too out of the ordinary. “Do you have any sugar?”

You stared at him with a deadpan expression, “Are you serious?”

“I don’t joke about sweets, kitten,” Hansung grinned, running a hand through his messy head of hair. You would have to add a scene to your story about pulling on it… “There’s that look,” he shook his head amusedly, “When will you ever let us know some of those thoughts?”

“Never,” You vowed and stepped aside so that he could enter your apartment, “Come on in. I’m pretty sure I have sugar somewhere. Sorry for the mess.” You wandered over to the kitchen area adjacent to your living room. Hansung was assessing your apartment with a critical eye, and you decided you needed to make this fast before he uncovered any dirty secrets.

Pulling open your baking cabinet, you scoured the shelves looking for that pesky ingredient. Flour, vanilla extract, chocolate chips…

“How is it that four boys don’t have any sugar?” You complained, leaning up to snag your bag of sugar from the very top shelf.

“We ask ourselves that all the damn time,” You knew Hansung was smirking even without seeing him, “We’re getting some now though… and later.”

“Well, good,” You turned to face him, “You better stock up so you don’t come bothering me every time you need some.”

He laughed, “Oh, (y/n), we’ll always want more.”

Rolling your eyes, you shoved the bag of sugar to his chest and pushed him towards the door to your apartment. “Out you go!”

“Oh kitten, I always knew you were sweet on me,” Hansung grinned widely as he stared down at the sugar you had pushed against his chest.

“Fuck off,” You groaned, letting out a slight chuckle despite yourself. “Now, go away and cook me a nice dinner. I’ll see you later.”

“Bye-e-e kitten,” he sang as he paraded back across the hall, “Wear something sexy for me.” With a wink, Hansung disappeared back into his shared apartment.

You groaned, slamming your door shut before sliding down it onto the floor. These brothers might be the death of you. Glancing up, your eyes settled on your laptop. Had it always been in that position? Was that how you left it?

Standing up, you walked over to where your laptop resides on your coffee table and closed it. You had a dinner to get ready for, after all. You didn’t have time to return to your story.

Alas, you really should have made time; because, little did you know, the open document on your screen had a new addition courtesy of Hansung… “That’s hot. Which number am I?”

It was 7:59PM; you were pacing inside your apartment.

You contemplated cancelling for the hundredth time that evening. But, momma didn’t raise no bitch.

With that in mind, you assessed yourself in the foyer mirror. The black midi-dress wrapped around your body like armor. The wings of your eyeliner flicked out like battle knives. The redness of your lipstick warned of the biting tongue that lie within.

Yeah, you looked ready for war, and it was perfect.

With that in mind, you trudged across the hall and knocked on their door before you could talk yourself out of it.

The door opened to reveal V in all his glory. His blonde hair was tousled, his eyes were dark. He looked at you as if he knew all of your secrets.

You bit your lip, “Um, hi?”

A slow smile crossed his face, “Hi, kitten. Please come in.”

You moved past him to enter into the apartment. Taehyung appeared and greeted you with a grin. “Hey, (y/n),” He purred, running a hand down your arm, “Glad you could make it.”

God, what was up? The tension in the room was palpable. You walked over towards where Hansung and Vante were plating dinner in the kitchen.

“Hi,” You greeted them. Vante jumped two feet in the air as Hansung smirked at you.

You cocked your head. Moving your eyes from one brother to the next, you caved, “Okay, what’s going on?”

“What do you mean, (y/n)?” V moved closer to you, “Is this not going as you wrote it?”

You stopped breathing. No, there was no way… but, your laptop had seemed to be moved. You shot Hansung a look in askance.

He grinned sheepishly, and it told you everything you needed to know.

“Fuck,” You turned away from them, “I’m so sorry. This is so embarrassing. I’ll leave.”

“Who’s One?” V’s question cut through your rambled apology.

“What?” You blinked, turning to look at him.

“Who is One, kitten? Is it me?” V moved right in front of you. You gulped. He smiled. “I thought so.”

“You see, (y/n)-kitten,” He continued, “You were right. My brothers and I? We’re a unit. We do everything together. We live together, we date together, we fuck together.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his words.

“We just want one girl to keep us all together, kitten… to be ours.” V murmured, twisting a lock of your hair between his fingers, “That’s what we’ve been searching for for so long.”

You finally found words at last, “And you think that girl is me?”

“We know it’s you,” Vante said, shyly approaching you, “And we’re going to show you why.”

He kissed you. You almost laughed over how cute, shy Vante was the first brother to kiss you. His kiss was gentle, but insistent in its movements. It was like he was pleading you to let him in both your mouth and your heart.

You crumbled. Your hands fisted his shirt and tugged him closer. His kiss ignited something in you that made you want more.

Your tongue darted out to run along the seam of his lips. Vante gasped, and your tongue slid inside.

As you continue to kiss him, someone moved behind you, his lips ghosted over your neck.

“Mm, baby,” Taehyung whispered against the nape of your neck, “You’re so beautiful.”

Taehyung ran his hands over your hips and tugged your ass flush with his crotch. You moaned into Vante’s mouth. Vante took advantage of your dazed state to slide his tongue against yours in a way that was so deliciously dirty.

Suddenly, Vante backed up, and V took his place before you.

His hands slid up your body, grazing the sides of your breasts before settling back down at the top of your waist.

He kissed you deeply, differently than Vante. The slight roughness of his touch was new, and it seemed to declare ownership over you.

V’s tongue twined with yours, playing with you. From behind you, Taehyung continued to slowly grind into you.

Your body felt so overheated, so overwhelmed.

Pulling back from your mouth, V glanced over your shoulder, and Taehyung slipped away from you.

V focused back on you. “I don’t think you understand what you do to us. God, this dress. Did you wear it to tease us, kitten? We’ve been wanting to unwrap you, to strip you down, since you walked through our door.”

V fiddled with the bow keeping your dress fastened.

Your heart pounded in your chest, and you said, “Well, do it then.”

His hand froze. His eyes flicked up to yours. “You’re sure, (y/n)? You know what you’re asking for? You know what we’ll give you?”

You glanced around. Vante looked at you with a hopeful expression. Hansung wore a smirk, already working on undoing the buttons of his shirt. Taehyung full-on grinned at you with dark eyes full of wicked intent and promise.

“Yes.”

As soon as the word left your lips, the mood shifted. V nodded at Vante, who scurried out of the room. You opened your mouth to question his departure, but V cut you off.

“Now, kitten, I know you’ve imagined this - wrote this; but, you’re not the one in charge here. We are.”

He led you down the hall and into what must have been his own bedroom. The king size bed dominated the room. Paintings decorated the walls… Was that a real Degas?

Vante entered the room, holding what looked like long scraps of silk.

“Finally,” Hansung grumbled, and then turned to you, “Strip.”

Your hands shook as you reached down to the tie at your waist and pulled. Your dress, your armor, fell to the ground in a whoosh. You stood in just your underwear, having forgone a bra that evening.

“Goddamn,” V growled, “Such a good little slut coming to our place without a bra.”

His filthy words slid over your body like a caress and settled deep in your core. You pushed your thighs together. The movement was not lost on the brothers.

“Vante.”

At V’s call, Vante reached out and took your hand. Leading you over to the bed, he gestured for you to lay down. “We want to tie you up, kitten. Is that okay? If not, we can have fun in other ways.”

“T-that’s okay,” You swallowed hard, “I like bondage.”

“I knew it!” Hansung cheered from the left foot of the bed.

“Shut up, Han,” Vante shot over his shoulder as he focused on tying your wrists behind your head. Refocusing on you, he mumbled, “How does that feel, baby? Too tight? Too loose?”

“Just right,” You sighed, almost moaning at how hot you felt getting tied down by one man while three others watched.

Taehyung sat down at your side, his pointer finger began drawing light circles across your stomach. “Can Hansung take your panties off, kitten?”

Nodding, you looked down as Hansung leaned over you, hands briefly squeezing your hips before tugging your underwear down your thighs. Almost on reflex, you squeezed your legs together again, craving any sort of friction.

“Open your legs,” V ordered from his stance against the wall by the foot of the bed, “Show us how wet you are.”

You listened, hyper-aware of how your wetness was surely obvious. Taehyung’s fingers suddenly pinched your nipple, rolling the puckered bud between his fingers. A small moan escaped you.

“Fuck,” someone cursed. Hansung, you guessed. “She’s so pretty.”

“How wet is she?” Taehyung asked, the only brother not openly ogling your wet pussy.

“Dripping,” Vante murmurs, tongue wetting his lips.

Your eyes locked with V’s as he stared you down. “Now, kitten, do you want Vante to lick your pussy? Or Hansung?”

Both boys in question stared at you with wistful expressions. You knew your answer though. It was not an option he had given. And it was your lack of answer that tipped V off.

“Ah, I see,” V laughed. “Well, that’ll be a new one for us.”

Hansung shot V a confused look, “What?”

“She wants both of your mouths,” V smirked at your immediate blush, “What? Am I wrong, baby?”

“…No,” You pouted.

Vante’s eyebrows furrowed, “Both of us? Like at one time? Or one after the other?”

All eyes were on you once more as you squirmed under the weight of their attention and Taehyung’s continued worship of your nipples with his fingers.

“Either?” You were losing your train of thought under the building pleasure. Could you actually come from just nipple play?

“Mm,” V hummed, “Our little kitten is being indecisive. Vante?”

Again, Vante hastened to fulfill V’s unspoken command. You wondered how many times the brothers had done this together, because they were really fucking in sync.

“Are you good with being blindfolded, too, kitten?” Vante asked, kissing your cheek lightly. You nodded and lifted your head up slightly so he could tie the soft silk around your head.

Darkness consumed you. Your senses heightened. A breath coasted over your wetness and you shuddered.

A light kiss pressed over your folds followed by a tentative swipe of a tongue. “Damn, she tastes fucking amazing,” Hansung groaned, completely giving himself away.

“Shut up and make her come, Han. Or I’ll let Vante take your place.” V’s voice came from closer by you now. Was he right next to you? Was he at your feet?

His lips felt so soft as he dragged them over your pussy to finally suck your clit in between them. His tongue slid and flicked perfectly against your clit.

The small ministrations of his tongue against your clit set your arousal ablaze. You shifted your hips up in hopes he will lick harder, but a firm hand pushed you back down.

“No, no, kitten,” V’s voice sounded in your ear, “You’ll get what we give you.”

Hansung continued to stroke his tongue between your legs. Finally, by the grace of the gods, he pushed a finger inside you and hissed, “Fuck, she’s so tight.”

You clenched down around his finger at his words, and he moaned. “She was fucking made for us.”

As Han returned to worship your pussy, another tongue flicked at your nipple. Was that Vante? Taehyung?

Honestly, not knowing was high-key hot. You were hurtling towards your orgasm as one brother ate your pussy, another worshipped your breasts, and two more watched.

The feeling of having so much attention on you, on your pleasure, on your body, set you off. You came with an embarrassingly loud moan.

Lips brushed your ear as V murmured, “You’re so sexy when you come, kitten. I bet you’ll look even better when you come all over my cock.”

A whine escaped you as he teased you, licking your neck, teeth scraping over it. The afterglow of your orgasm quickly turned into the aching need for more.

And then your stomach let out an insanely loud growl.

The room quieted. A chuckle escaped someone. Then, laughs echoed around the bedroom.

“Well, someone needs to be fed,” V’s smile was apparent as he pressed a kiss to your cheek.

The blindfold slipped from around your head and you blinked up at V as he untied your wrists. “Come on, baby, we can reheat dinner.”

“But–” You pouted as V placed a finger to your lips.

“We can get back to that after. We’re not even close to being done with you, kitten.”

“I don’t think we ever will,” Taehyung grinned at you as he tugged you up from the bed.

“Here you go, (y/n),” Vante handed you Han’s discarded button down.

“Thank you,” You blushed at his cuteness. Pausing, you scoured the ground for your panties.

Thwack.

Your ass stung as V’s hand massaged over the area he just smacked.

“They’re mine. Don’t bother,” His grin was feral as he squeezed your ass and then led you out of the room towards the kitchen.

As you both joined the others in the kitchen, you took the plate that Han offered you. Surveying the room, you took in your varying states of undress as you all stood around the kitchen island eating your reheated dinners.

Damn, you could get used to this… Taehyung caught your eye and shot you a wink.

Yeah, you were so fucked… but, so were they.

#basecretbunny20 #bangtanhq #maknaesmutsociety #kwritersworldnet #ficswithluv #btswritingcafe #btswriterscollective #btsbookclub #bangtanarmynet #bts #taehyung x reader #bts smut #taehyung #kth #bts fic #secret bunny collab #this is a cursed fic sorry manda uwu #hope u like it

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thekitschdiet · 3 years

Text

my take on the literary masterpiece, the chic diet

Firstly, I am no one. It’s part of my charm. My fifteen minutes of fame was years ago, when I had an instagram niche meme page. I didn’t even take any brand deals! And my posts averaged six thousand likes! Anyhow. I am hardly literate and well hydrated and carry a small sephora-CVS-hybrid worth in my mini tote bag. Here is my guide on how to live like me, the intermediate kitsch-rat, aspiring influencer. But like, in an apathetic, somewhat dissonant, ironic way. I like saying I live by dogmatic principles. But a lot of it, um, is just eating disorder rituals. But that’s not really important. You’re as hot as you say you are, and as much an authority on what you write so long as you say it with, you know, conviction. It’s kind of venerable how fucking delusional I am, actually. Giving any sort of advice like I’m anywhere close to the ritzy ideal of the amphetamine-areyouami label-american. New York, ideally. West Village, preferably. But I guess the kind of guide I can write is better suited to someone living in a suburb, in a house with the twelve-paned windows. I always thought those were so chic. SO quaint, in a somewhat luxe way. Like, Connecticut vibes. My parents used to drive me up there as a child to buy books and ice cream. Nowadays I’d opt for a matcha latte with novelty ice cubes, but I guess at the time it was pretty sweet.

Because I popped a Vyvanse at like, 10pm, this next little bit could go one of two ways. I will write the most articulate, brilliant piece of literature of my life. Magnum opus, if there was a skinnier word for it. Or, I will get wrapped up doing something like folding all my last-season knits (which is part of my look, okay! I don’t have a job!) and fixating on a paragraph on how a girl’s collarbones are almost as identifying as a fingerprint, or a signature. I’m not a graphologist, but if you write your A’s with the little tail on top (like on a computer), you’re probably a snake. Nothing personal, just an observation. Also, I do have a biology final to study for. Not that I’m super anal, or even particularly committed to academia, but even in my precariously manicured (read that as separate terms; I did a good job on my nail polish, okay? But I happen to also be teetering on the brink of an epiphany or a collapse. Hence the use of the word precarious.) state, I know it’s important enough I can let one of my countless side-quests sit idle for a couple more days.

The first section seems only natural to be about hydration. And the whole idea of drinking things, really. There was a section in The Chic Diet about Adderall dry-mouth, which deeply resonated with me. Once I bit off a chunk of a Nivea Strawberry Shine (my favorite lip balm, more on that later) and swished it around my mouth. Didn’t help. Really, really didn’t. Anyway, I suppose that even if it served no purpose for combatting my prevacatingly ingenious cottonmouth solution, I was able to milk a sentence or two out of the experience. “Do it for the Vine”, all grown up! And wearing bananapapaya resin hoops too. Side note, that Etsy shop is a parasocial enemy of mine. It stems from jealousy, which sucks, but hating from inside a club I’m adjacent to is much healthier than being a hateful individual towards people I would, you know, interact with. Daily. Or something. I stopped going to therapy because I felt stupid about going and I don’t live in the right kind of town to warrant vacuous $300 hours. Bitching about my well-adjusted parents and how desperately I wished my anxiety would just “go away” was plainly gross, and a waste. Like, pretty sure almost every problem I have could be solved by a couple painful conversations taking place during a hurricane. Such a shame it doesn’t rain much here. Anyhow, I digress.

Staying hydrated. It is essential to my character, my persona, if you will; to never be without either an elegant metal bottle (I’m loyal to the smooth enamelled S’well ones, printed to look like marble or a semi holographic solid) or a little 16oz tumbler with a metal straw. Hydroflasks were some of the worst things to happen to society. I want to preface this claim with the fact that I wanted one in the same way a teenage girl wants a new iPhone so she can keep up appearances with her dermatologist-dad friends who still have the XR, by the way. But I ended up spending the money on like, a minidress at Brandy Melville before it fled my city. Or maybe a Fresh Sugar tinted lipbalm. For the better, even though the dress has a busted zipper now and the lipbalm tube has inevitably gotten dinged and dented by the other contents of my mini-totebag. Unlike a car, though, a couple scuffs on your laptop or your luxury lipbalm tube looks kind of cool. Like, you’re not someone who values the pristine, unused quality of an item that was ambiguously intended to be used versus displayed on Instagram. Now, I’m wondering why this paragraph about hydration is so fucking impossible to stay on track for. I literally drink several litres of water a day, and more tea on top of that. And sometimes an almond milk latte if I can budget it in. Not that I’m so anorexic I can’t afford a 45cal latte. They’re just not that important to me. Anyhow. Drinking lukewarm (on the cool side) water is better than ice-cold. Partially because I just get it out of the tap of my ensuite and I can’t be bothered to wait for it to run cold enough every time, and it just seems wasteful. Plus, there is something so.. skinny about drinking water at an “obscure” temperature. Trust me, I want to know why my thought process is like this too. My favorite tea is blueberry tea foraged in a side aisle at my local supermarket. I love a good commercial, high-end steep or fruit infusion as much as the next girl. Maybe more. My pantry is filled with tins labelled with things like “emerald jade organic” and “magic potion”, which is really just currants and butterfly pea flowers. But there is a necessary glamor about drinking dirt-cheap tea on the daily. Seriously, a box of 25 sachets is like, $3. At a higher point with my, um, Adderall problem, I spent like several times that on pills. I didn’t really need to include that, and could have linked the price point to the cost of a drugstore lipbalm, but I wrote it in. And I’m married to it, stubbornly, as all amateur writers should be when they wittle in a somewhat indecorous little joke. This tea is sooo good because it has a strong fruit-reminiscent taste (not as sweet as a fresh blueberry, but who wants that anyway?), it’s zero-calorie, it’s the most GORGEOUS color ever. The latte, the third drink in my little trifecta, is nothing special. But necessary. The trick is to use a milk frother to whip up sugar free syrup with instant coffee and a little bit of hot water in a glass. It’ll make the most luscious foam.. Top it off with almond milk. My dad is a coffee purist, owning both an upstairs keurig AND a downstairs one (among other more analogue methods, but I can’t name-drop, so what’s the point?), so he hates this drink. Now, calling oneself a plebian is so unglamorous and teetering on self-deprecating territory, dangerously close to insecurity. But I can use it here because I am at least posh enough to have a different pair of earrings for every outfit I could possibly come up with, and I only wear Patagonia if I am in a situation where I just have to wear fleece. Like I was saying. It’s such a simple drink, certainly not a delicacy, and… I had a joke about the word plebian but I keep getting up to refill my water and I fear I have forgotten about it.

Next section; the importance of a good tinted balm

In the intro I alluded to how a girl’s collarbones function essentially as an identifier, the way a signature or fingerprint does. This is a lie, or at least an exaggeration. But one’s ultimate tinted lipbalm is actually extremely indicative about who you are, as a person, as a member of society, even…

If you are loyal to Dior Lipglow, I have a couple questions. One; did you shoplift one tube, once, and refill it with cheaper stuff afterwards? I did that. I consider it one of my better-kept secrets, but now you know. Might as well explain the catalyst for my parent’s first separation now, and the horrifying experience that was meeting my dad’s Manhattan sugar baby (?) at the age of thirteen, wearing an overalls dress from, like, Topshop or something else equally embarrassing. .. Kidding. I digress. It’s such a fancy lipbalm, and good too! It smells like thin mints! But I could just never justify cell phone monthly installation payment money on something I will inevitably talk off. I do own three, but two I stole (before I lost the nerve, somewhat unfortunately) and one, a boy(not)friend bought for me. This is not something I feel any remorse about, because his house was easily four thousand square feet and his sisters had a dedicated all-glass room for their shared peloton. Oil money. Ugh!

My personal favorite lip balm, and I have tried a frightening amount, has got to be the Nivea Fruit Shine collection. The frosted one is shit-ugly. Hideous. But the strawberry one is the love of my life. It’s such a pleasant red, looking healthy and rejuvenated and really completes any look. Only downside is it will always, hopefully not always, remind me of Charles. Kissing Charles, specifically. And him asking me what lipbalm it was, because he knew I was somewhat frivolous and definitive and would have a very long answer. But for whatever reason, I simply stated it was from “out of town”. Not really sure why I said that, but it plagues me (minorly) to this day. Of all the things to make up.. .. The peach one is a perfectly demure spring classic shade. Cherry exists too, but the only tube I have ever had the fortune of owning was purchased in Costa Rica and lost somewhere on the way home. Honestly tragic, it was the juiciest shade. Blackberry is perfect too, but I have to layer it with either peach or untinted lipbalm to avoid what I imagine TooPoor would choose if she believed in tinted lipbalm. I don’t mean this hatefully, I think she’s a queen, but super dark, smudgy makeup suits the eyes better in my opinion. Or something. Or something.

Afraid to bore the reader, I have to move on now. Maybe at a later date I will release an addendum on my ultimate lipbalm buying guide. But also, that is so deeply personal (and everyone needs the excuse of “hunting for the perfect staple shade!!”), so it is really not my place to have any authority on something so intimate and subjective. Etcetera.

Moving on; Decorating your room

Here is a section I lifted out of my memoir document. It fits, because as enigmatic as I hope I am, I am also quite unchanging.

I just pushed three hangers and two tiny strappy tops with the tags still on, off my bed. Most nights, all, these days, actually; I spend in my large but cluttered bedroom. I have a little ensuite with a jetted tub I’ve never used because I just never get around to it. There’s a plush grey rug, spanning the expanse of the room (covering an ugly cherry wood that doesn’t match the rest of the house; no clue why. I never asked, and the previous owners were eager to sell so they could finally ditch this town and retire in Montreal for the bagels, or Hawaii for the monk seals. Point is, I’ll never know) with loose beads and loose pills and little shards of glass from plier-crushed beads. I vacuum every day. The whole room tells you exactly the kind of person I am; the clutter I possess, the encapsulation of the projects I start, start, start and the hours I don’t sleep for and the clothes I tried on (these to sell, these to cut up with kitchen scissors; thrifted lululemon and aritzia and heaps of knits and plaid fabric..) I would not say the room is a mess. Lived in, maybe. Chopsticks and mugs and gum wrappers. Single dangle earrings. I just finished the last of my Creme Brulee eos lipbalm; disguised as a relic of 2015, I was gifted it Christmas of ‘20. I think my next waxy conquest will be a tinted Burt’s one I palmed a while back, before I lost the nerve. Peering around the room you will see shopping bags strewn about the mouth of my walk-in closet. Every surface has something shiny or colorful stacked up on it. Cluttered, busy, but intentional. Except for the walls, which are bare. Bare and gray and miles-tall when I lie flat on my back, high out of my mind, willing things to change but knowing I’m responsible for a first step I will always be too scared for. Bare, pristine, no gumtack. Empty, Like they’re waiting. I wait around a lot. It makes sense. That was an awful lot of words about my stupid blank walls when truly it does not bother me that much; I really just don’t get around to it. I have other things on the ground to tend to, like post-email nausea, addressing envelopes, marrying wire and bead. Writing a document I care about because I am determined and I am alive, alive, alive, goddammit.

Excerpt over. The memoir is coming out when I get famous, or something earth shattering happens. Like I become the world’s least remarkable entrepreneur, and I get retweeted by Colorpop. I don’t want to be the next Elizabeth Wurtzel. I read two of her memoirs one restless night, absorbing it to make up for the nutrients I didn’t that day (you can laugh. I think that is pretty clever), heart breaking a little bit. She writes about her struggles so intrinsically, you either get it, or you don’t. Anyway. She had the books and the fame from it, and she wrote more memoirs than I think a single person should. That is admirable. Aspirational, even. But I do not want to be like her. Where was I? Oh. Yes. Decorating/adorning/filling your room. Your room should serve as the kind of place to watch a movie (if you believe in film. I don’t) and put on ridiculous glittery eye makeup, or smoke an ~artistic cigarette~ or stay up all night on the phone, which is different from staying up all night simply on your phone. Chatting with someone you are tepidly in love with is much more exciting. Not chic as the whole affair is so juvenile, but fun regardless. It’s somewhere to keep your worldly possessions, too. I know I have a lot! Also, it is kind of thrilling to hide things in your room in little crevices only you know about. Now, unfortunately, everyone reading this will know too. But, like, I trust you not to really.. do anything about it. I keep my extra juul pods in the sliding box my apple pencil came in. That box is almost more useful than the pencil itself. I’m somewhat morally opposed to the iPad. Whole culture is so embarrassing! I have a tea tin with an ounce of golden teacher shrums in it. This is tossed in my closet among tins filled with other things, like lace trim and buttons. Which makes it actually a pretty terrible hiding spot, I see now… Anyhow. Keeping benign little secrets like that is so fun. You can tell I don’t have siblings. I sort of wish I did, but it is easier to believe there is something aristocratic about being an only child. Not sure if older-sister me would be egalitarian enough to share things. But that’s prophesying, which is kind of a waste of time. I live in the now, in a room positively cluttered with meaningless things that mean the world to me, chewing on my lip because my mouth is just so dry and 5gum is just not an after-8 indulgence. To live truly kitschly, you have to have somewhat hideous decor. Now, do not confuse dissonant, or incoherent, with what I mean by “hideous decor”. The kitsch room has as many surfaces to look at as possible, while also shying away from too many shelving units. Then you risk your room looking like a storage unit or something. When my mom renovated (re: paid someone to do it) our New York house so we could sell it, all our stuff was stacked up in a Cubesmart self storage. It was sort of horrifying, seeing my childhood home reduced to plastic storage tubs piled what felt like thirty feet high. Anyway. It’s just not an inviting way to store things; I imagine it makes your room look like your stuff is all trapped in gelatin. The more fussy, tiny things you have out in the open, the better. Nail polish. Earring trees. Bowls full of rings and lighters and water color pans perched on your windowsill. A rack with the tackiest assortment of knits and bucket hats and baguette bags. And so forth.. Quickly surveying someone’s room is so telling. Bonus points if all your books are spine-in, except for your favorite ones, because you don’t want people to get the wrong idea. (that you read).

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moldisgoodforyou · 3 years

Text

barcelona (ii)

wordcount: 2.3k

_______

Sophie introduced him to the whole group, then separately to her roommates all sitting together at the top of the table. “This is Isobel,” she nodded, “this is Andrea,” she waved, “and this is Juliet,” she smiled.

Rafe nodded, smiling at the three of them. “Isabelle -”

“Isobel.” She corrected. “Ee-so-belle.”

“Ee-so-belle.” He repeated slowly, trying with the accent. “Sorry, I’ll remember that. And you’re Andrea, and you’re Juliet.”

“Rafe, do you always show up late to places?” Isobel asked him with a stern look, nudging Sophie under the table. She tried her best to hold back a grin as he shook his head quickly, the tips of his ears turning red. “No, um, sorry, we got held up by the - the subway -”

“The metro.” Sophie corrected calmly.

“Yes! The metro. Sorry, uh, jetlag.” Rafe tried, looking nervous.

“Uh huh.” She nodded, trying to seem unconvinced, and Andrea snorted into her mimosa, making all of them laugh. “Andrea!”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t keep it up!”

Rafe glanced between the four girls, confused. “Keep what up?”

Sophie grinned, squeezing his leg under the table. “I told them they could grill you a little. Andrea just has no poker face.”

“We’ve heard so much about you, I feel like we already know each other.” Juliet told him with a welcoming smile.

The girls all nodded in agreement and Sophie beamed at their approval, letting them go on with stories about their antics as roommates, like when Juliet had set off the fire alarm while smoking - three times - and when Andrea brought a boy over and he turned out to be a total bust, so they girls had to make up an excuse to rescue her from the awkward situation. As Isobel reached across the table for the salt, Rafe noticed a small carnation tattooed just below the inside of her elbow, still a little red. “I like that, is it new?”

“It is!” She nodded down the table. “Mateo just did some of them for us last week. Oh my god, Sophie, do you remember like a month ago -”

Sophie shook her head quickly, sending her a pointed glare. “I don’t remember. Anything. Ever.”

Andrea hid a giggle behind her napkin at the way Sophie’s cheeks went red, and Juliet smirked. “The initials R.C. don’t ring a bell?”

“Stoooop.” She whined and Rafe caught on quickly, grinning. “Was that when she tried to get the tattoo on her hip?”

“Yes!” Andrea exclaimed, laughing. “Oh my god, it was like five inches tall and looked like it’d been written by a primary schooler.”

“You were determined.” Isobel grinned, poking Sophie in the side and put on a poorly done American accent to mimic her. “Nooo, guys, I hafta get it!”

Juliet joined in, her American accent even worse. “I’ve only had four drinks, I’m fine! Like, sober!”

“That was with Sebastian’s heavy pour, too.” Andrea added, laughing. “I think we got to know a little too much about you that night.”

“Alright, that’s enough.” Sophie was bright red now and nudged her elbow into Rafe’s side when he went to ask another question. “I FaceTimed him that night, he saw how bad it was.”

“I’m so glad you didn’t get it.” He laughed, shaking his head.

“Besides, she already has the ring, it’s not like she needed that to ward any guys off.” Isobel pointed out nonchalantly and Sophie bit her lip, trying to be subtle as she hid her hand under the table and switched her ring from her ring finger back to her middle, something she’d forgotten to do in her haste to pick him up from the airport.

Rafe noticed immediately, of course, but chose not to comment. “Maybe a temporary tattoo instead.” He teased, pressing a quick kiss to her temple. When their waiter came back around to take everyone’s real food order instead of just adding to their sangria, most of the table ordered in Spanish with ease, including Sophie.

She looked to him to explain his order but he straightened up a little, clearing his throat. “Uh, hola! Yo comer los huevos con chorizo, por favor.” He gave the waiter a proud smile and Isobel had to hide a snort in her napkin at his horrible pronunciation and grammar - it was as butchered as possible. The waiter furrowed his brow a little and Sophie subtly pointed at his option on the menu. The waiter laughed, clapped Rafe on the shoulder and told him - in a nearly-perfect American accent - “Welcome to Spain, buddy.”

“Since when do you speak Spanish?” Sophie held back a grin, not wanting to burst Rafe’s bubble.

He beamed, taking it as a compliment. “I did a little studying over the summer.”

“It wasn’t horrible!” Juliet chimed in with an encouraging smile, not noticing Rafe’s face drop. Sophie winced and kissed his cheek. “It’s alright, we’ll practice. The idea’s there.”

He kept his voice down, turning to her with a curious look. “You mean it? It wasn’t bad?”

“No! Not really. I mean, some things could use some work, but you have like, the basic foundation -”

“Sophie. No lying.”

“I’ve never lied to you.”

“Oh, bullshit - you’ve lied so many times -”

“Pre-relationship does not count!” She exclaimed, grinning as she swatted him with her napkin. “We agreed. No bringing that up.”

He grinned back, poking her side. “What, are you trying to hide our sordid past from your roommates?”

She fixed him with a cross look, shaking her head. “Sordid hardly describes it. Just a few arguments here and there, that was all.”

“Ah, you seem to have a selective memory.” He smirked and squeezed her knee under the table. “You hated me.”

She frowned. “I never hated you. Just, maybe, didn’t like you sometimes.”

“Understatement of the century.” He trailed his hand up her thigh and she pushed his hand away, giving him a warning look. “Rafe Cameron.”

He just gave her a smile and moved his hand back to her knee until their food arrived.

_____

Three packed days later of showing Rafe around, Sophie had to say a tearful goodbye to her roommates. It was hard for her to leave her newfound friends she’d grown so close to, but they promised they’d see her again - they’d all applied early for graduate programs scattered throughout the US, some starting as early as January.

Somehow, after a lot of persuading over the summer, Sophie had convinced Rafe to rent a car and drive to Nice in France. It was a little over six hours of a drive and along the coastline, and he couldn’t say no to her after she’d sent multiple photos of the coast and fancy cars they could rent too. After loading everything into the car and carefully adjusting the short driver’s seat, Rafe grinned over at her. “Ready to go?”

“Yes, but I have something for you.” She reached into the backseat and pulled a wrapped box out of her tote bag, practically buzzing with excitement. “I know your birthday won’t be until we’re in Rome, but I think you’d like this now. The rest of your gift is back in Ohio though.”

He took the box, fixing her with a playfully stern look. “I thought I told you no presents? Just being here with you is enough.”

“Yeah, yeah, I didn’t listen. Open it.”

He opened it curiously, then grinned when he saw the camcorder printed on the box. He’d mentioned earlier in the summer how he’d like to have something that wasn’t just his phone to document senior year, and then to be able to edit the footage together into little montages each month. Of course, she’d listened and found the perfect gift. “You remembered!”

“It’s the right kind, I think, but double check for me?” She asked, urging him to open the box. “I did a lot of research making sure it was the right one.”

He took the camera out and inspected it, nodding. “It’s perfect. I love it, Sophie, thank you.” He turned to her and smacked a kiss to her cheek, grinning when she turned her head and caught his lips with hers.

“You’re welcome. I was going to wait, but figured you could take videos of our trip and everything.” She beamed.

Rafe’s grin morphed into a smirk as he flipped the camera on, pointing it toward her. “Is the rest of the present that we’re making a sex tape?”

She immediately rolled her eyes, huffing as she reached for the camera. “Okay. You just ruined the moment, good job.”

He laughed, pushing her hand away and put it back in the box. “Thank you, for real. It’s awesome.”

She took the box and put it back in the backseat, smiling. “Welcome. Happy early birthday, old man.”

Rafe started up the car and flicked on the radio, handing Sophie his phone loaded up with their directions. “Twenty-two is hardly old.”

“Ancient.” She laughed. “Alright, this says we’ll get there by two, so just in time to check in to the hostel and we can stop to eat halfway. Feel okay about driving? Because I can trade with you -”

“Absolutely not. And, uh, about the hostel.” He kept his eyes on the road as he drove.

“I thought I sent you all the information, you said you’d book it -”

“No, no, not that, I have everything covered. Just.” He tapped his fingers on the wheel.

“Just?” She cocked her head curiously.

“I may have gone a different route for accommodation in Nice.”

“Rafe. I said I’d pay for my things.”

He didn’t need to glance over at her to feel her slow-building annoyance, but did anyways. “I know! I know. I was just thinking, we’re going to the beach and we’ll be all sandy and whatever afterward, it might be nice to have a real hotel and our own bathroom. Just for there, I booked the hostels for Italy.”

“Just for there.” She repeated, skeptical.

He nodded to confirm. “We’ve just been so busy with everyone - which I totally understand - but I thought it’d be nice to have it be just us for a few days.”

She considered it for a moment - he did make a great point. “I can transfer money from my savings to cover my half.”

“No.”

“Rafe.”

“I’m serious, Sophie, no. The hostels, fine, but not for Nice.” He declared. He’d chosen a boutique hotel instead of a big expensive chain hotel in hopes that would hide how much he spent, so she didn’t question it.

She frowned, crossing her arms. “I really don’t want to fight over this, baby, but I told you -”

“So don’t fight. I’ve got it.” He reached over and rested his hand on her knee and squeezed it reassuringly. “Ward gave me extra money.”

Sophie rolled her eyes. “Ward gave you extra money to spend on your trip with me? I’m supposed to believe that? I don’t think he even knows my name still.”

“Well.” He paused, nodding. “Not exactly for the trip, he just put double in my account for my birthday month. I think he feels a little guilty, last year he forgot.” Rafe tried to force a laugh, but it came out more pained than he wanted.

She frowned and reached over to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. “He forgot your birthday? Seriously?”

“Yeah. It’s no big deal, happens. Anyways, um. I’m not letting you pay for it.”

She could tell he was growing uncomfortable talking more about Ward and nodded. “Okay. Fine, but just this once.” She gave him a small smirk. “You think the walls are thin?”

“I think the building is structurally sound, baby.” He gave her a confused glance.

She laughed, shaking her head. “That is so not what I meant.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Think harder.”

He furrowed his brow for a moment, then shook his head. “I give up.”

“We only had sex once since we’ve been back together.”

“What does that have to do with thin walls - ohhhh. Right. You know, sometimes I forget how dirty you are, I appreciate the reminder.” He grinned and she tugged on the ends of his hair, rolling her eyes. “Fuck off, you are too.”

“Think we could pull over when we make it to France and have a quickie on the side of the road?”

She raised her eyebrows, skeptical. “Do you speak enough French to get us out of trouble if we get caught and arrested?”

“Minor details.” Rafe laughed, nudging his head back into her hand a little so she’d start playing with his hair again. “Hey.”

“Hey.” She responded, scratching his head lightly.

“I love you. So damn much.”

Sophie beamed and leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek. “Love you too, fool. I’m glad you’re here.”

He grinned widely. “Yeah? Me too. I really hated being away from you.”

She frowned, just a little. “At least you had your internship to distract you though, right?”

“I was too damn nervous about Brooklyn doing something to fuck us up half the time.” He confessed. “I’m really sorry she kissed me, I should have known -”

“Quit.” She cut him off firmly. “I don’t want to hear a single thing about her on this trip, and I especially don’t want to hear apologies for that. Not your fault.”

He bit this inside of his cheek, sparing a glance over at her. “You mean it?”

“Of course I mean it. I’m glad you’re willing to tell me, but it’s over with. Quit stressing.”

“I wasn’t stressing -”

“You’re too easy to read, baby.” She flicked the back of his neck and he yelped, laughing. “I am not.”

“You absolutely are, you wear your heart on your sleeve and I love you for that.” Sophie grinned. “No more talking about her.”

“Jealous.” He quipped, smiling over at her.

“Damn straight.”

taglist: @whoeveniskendall @kkmaybank @karsinner @outerbanksbro @outerbankspreferences @randomficsandshit @jailcalledlife @tovvaa @moniamaybank @illbesafeforyou @dontjinx-it @freddymaybank @jjmaybankzz @g4bster @oopsiedoopsie23 @babygal-babygal @thecuthoney

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfic #outer banks #outer banks fanfic #obx #obx fanfic #college rafe #frat rafe #rafe x sophie #mine

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damselofblueroses · 3 years

Text

The Name of the Rose

Summary: Your study-buddy Doh Kyungsoo comes with you for a long-awaited trip to Tokyo, Japan. There is a tension between you, however both of you decided to build a friendship instead of a relationship.

Content: Unestablished relationship, AU, Hurt/Comfort, Anger, Slight Violence, Emotional Complications and Healing.

Warnings: Well, the story contains NSFW/Smut, please minors do not continue.

Note: This story was inspired by D.O.’s album, Empathy, the album of 2021 in my opinion. It is an ongoing mini project, I planned to write it as a one-shot when I started, however I realized there are a lot to say about Empathy Era and I cannot stop shut my mouth, or prevent myself from writing… So, here we go.

Second chapter, the Hunter and the Goddess is out :)

Word Count: 3.6k

Chapter 1: The Hunter and the Gazelle

Stat rosa pristina nomine, nomina nuda tenemus.

You were excited.

No, it was not the correct word to be used. You were hyperactive, more than your usual self, and God knows that everyone could testify on how hectic your personality was. According to your family and very close friends, you were a walking catastrophe, funny but a fucking tease and potentially dangerous for environment.

And now, as you had been waiting for your flight, you could not manage to even stay still. Your hands were everywhere, you proved yourself again by dismantling your tote bag as poor thing was on your lap and you were playing with it unconsciously.

“Enough.” you heard your companion’s baritone voice tone. “If you will continue like this, you have to buy your belongings again in Japan. Do you have that much money?”

He reached to you and took the bag from your lap. For a second, his fingers brushed your thighs, and you lost your concentration during that fucking second.

Focus! you told yourself.

“I can always lend some money from you.” you cocked one of your eyebrows. “What? Will you bare me from some bucks?”

“Yes.” he was always plain and simple. On the contrary of you. “Unless if it is not a necessary. I am not a guy of sharing.”

What type of guy you are, can you give me a demonstration?

Your trip to Japan made you very excited, but you had to confess at least to yourself in the depts of your mind. What made you frenzied was the presence of your companion.

Doh Kyungsoo.

Your long-term study-buddy. Actually, he was more than a study-buddy, he was a kind of your comfort zone, even though you never express your opinions about him. You have known each other for almost 7 years since the last year of bachelor. Both of you continued your ways in academic world and you were currently being Ph.D. candidates.

To be honest, he never lose his impacts on you. You had a sweet spot for him since almost the beginning of your friendship which made him more than a study-buddy. It did not mean that you were restraining yourself from having dates time to time, but all of them were ended up with the same result.

They were clever and handsome guys, but they were not Doh Kyungsoo.

Sometimes you could not help but wonder, how it would be if you did not meet him as a friend? Could you two manage having a relationship as your best friend, Baekhyun, supported like a bloody zealot? Or one of you would give up as your brother, Jongdae, always believed?

“Hey!” you heard Kyungsoo’s voice and jumped off from the bench. “Come back to your senses or we are going to miss the plane.”

“And you are going to take its money from me.” your murmured inside of your mouth but obliged to what he said by starting to walk. He was generally quiet during flights, but you knew his mouth will not be shut when you will visit the restaurants he wanted to try.

He does not come for Tokyo, he comes for fucking eels, octopuses, or crabs. Kyungsoo and his appetite.

“Naturally.” he approved your words on money, but there was a ghost of smile on his lips. “Since you are the one who became a sleeping beauty.”

Do you think I am beautiful?

This was another problem you had. With Kyungsoo, you were so relaxed, and you felt extremely safe, so you did not need to control yourself as you generally did. Of course, it was a good omen for your friendship, as much as you were sure Kyungsoo never lied to you, it was also a disadvantage on your part, because sometimes you wanted to ask some questions that should be remained in silence.

“If we would be fairy tales,” you smirked. “I would be Belle while you are the Beast.”

“Fine by me.” he shrugged his shoulder. “He is a very good guy. I am happy for Belle; she understands the assignment. You would not most probably.”

“Sweetheart, you are slow to catch the signs.” you playfully smacked his shoulder when you reached to the control point. You thought he would be annoyed, but he stopped and seriously gazed at you. You shivered and wondered why he was looking at you like he wanted to say something.

“What?” you inhaled.

“Since when I am slow to catch the signs?” he pressed on every word of his sentence, and to your dismay he used that voice tone, almost a whisper but goddamn strong. “Give me an example.”

You shuttered down, and this was the last problem you had with Kyungsoo, he was the only one who could make your brain stop working especially in times when the occasion calls for full-speed devilish progress. You just stared at him and shrugged your shoulder.

“Eh Soo,” you murmured. “You missed a lot of beautiful girls, right?”

Your response was so weak even to your ears. If Chanyeol, number two best friend of you, could hear your words, he would burst into laughs by hitting everyone beside him. You could imagine Junmyeon’s disgusted face as a plus.

“I did not miss anyone, my dear.” he chuckled. “Let me rephrase, anyone I want just one exception, but exceptions do not ruin the calculation in your famous mindset.”

When he chuckles, you can feel your blood tension rocks your body. His heart shaped lips does something to you, and you do not want to name it.

“Exceptions run the world, Doh.” you tried to push him to elaborate his words a little bit more. “Who is that lucky girl who run away from you?”

“That’s my secret.” he smirked and put his hand onto your waist in order to led you the controller lady. “Show your passport, I do not want to wait here forever.”

Who was the girl he mentioned? You could not help but started to feel anxious, how much you tried to press your instincts and feelings, whenever he mentioned a girl, there would be a dire need of crying in the pit of your stomach. You took a deep breathe and followed his instruction. While you were walking into the inside of plane, you struggled with the sudden sadness. You wanted to tear that off yourself, so you reminded yourself the splendid trip ahead you. You found your place and processed to sit down.

“May I help?” Kyungsoo asked you but he already fetched your belongings and placed them correctly. You smiled to him and sat down.

How could you meet someone like him? He was a little bit grumpy sometimes, a person who could give unexpected reactions, but he was reliable, kind, lovely and always thoughtful of his environment. You did not want to lose him. You never want to lose him, on the contrary, you want to keep him in your life until the very end. You could not think a life without Kyungsoo, you always desire him to stay your side.

You were pretty sad, you had to admit, and there was regret. You were regretful on your decision to not go further with him, you wished you could be braver and tell him about your feelings for him. How much you were confused because of him, how many days and nights you spent sleepless because of him. To make the things more complicated, you had zero idea about how he would be responded your confession if you pull yourself together and manage to do. For once, you heard his cousin Minseok talked about you by saying you were very important for Kyungsoo, however you did not know in which extent you were important for him.

You two were always closed to each other, you spent almost 3 or 4 days together, you were living in the same campus, your departments were close to each other. He was a huge part of your life, that’s one of the reasons why you were hopelessly trying to conceal your inappropriate feelings for Kyungsoo. The idea of losing his extremely valuable presence was the only scenario could make you sob.

“Am I the only one who is very uncomfortable?” he whispered to your ear and made your stomach twisted. You could kill him for this, but he was not aware of how he affected you. “You are deadly silent.”

“No, I am just thinking.” you run away from him like an Olympic athlete. “About the trip. I am very excited.”

“If you are,” he flinched your forehead. “You have to talk non-stop. You are silent when something bothers you, what are you hiding from me?”

“Nothing, Soo.” you found a smile from somewhere and presented to him. “You know I never find the chance of visiting Japan; I am really overwhelmed.”

“So, speak to me.” he grunted. “Do not act like I am not here.”

“Okey, okey.” you raised your hands to air. “Sorry for that.”

“I start to feel like I am disturbing you.” he turned his head to the Name of the Rosethat he was reading. Umberto Eco, he had a taste for everything of course. “I asked you twice if you are okey with going to Japan with me.”

You could laugh if you were not so tense since he mentioned girls.

“And I told you this is okey, Soo.” you pinched his upper arm. “You are a good companion for trips.”

“Only for trips?” he asked. What the fuck was wrong with Kyungsoo today? He was behaving weird, and his questions made you more baffled. “I thought I am good companion for everything.”

You bit your lips in order to send back the sudden answer you wanted to give. Instead of declaring your ignorance about his performance on everything, you refined your words.

“You are a good friend, Soo and sorry for making you feel unwanted. I am happy you are coming with me.”

“Hm.” he hummed but he did not look like he was satisfied with your answer. You decided to not think about what the heck he wanted to hear, you also turned to your book that you were supposed to read since the departure. At least Pavese helped you to collect your mind till the plane landed in Narita Airport. He helped you while you two took a cab for the way, he was acting like his usual self, so you accused yourself because of searching hidden messages in his questions. You were such an idiot.

“I will be seeing you at dinner.” he waved his hand when you finished the registration process of the hotel you would be staying for the week. You were in front of the elevator. Both of you already decided to take a nap before dinner when you were planning the trip, so you approved his words and took your keys.

“See you.” you smiled and walked to your room. When you opened the door, your smile widened, the room is so light and minimalistic as you really liked. There was no crowded furniture, crazy designs, or unnecessary modifications. The walls were light blue, the furniture was white, and all looked very harmonious. There were plants and flowers, you immediately run to the flowers as you loved them more than anything else. The hotel staff managed to place even Sakura blossoms into the room that made your heart flattered and smoothed your nerves.

And there was only one blue rose, which was your favourite flower in the world. Just one, between a bouquet of daisies and it looked magnificent. You leaned to smell it while smiling as a little freak. You did not have to see your face; you knew how you looked like. Chanyeol always said that when you see a blue rose, you lost your shit. Another creature made you drunk in happiness was white butterflies. You had a sweet spot for blue roses and white butterflies.

And for Kyungsoo.

You grunted to yourself in your mind, and you headed to the bathroom by tapping your feet to the ground harshly. You were done with your obsession with Kyungsoo, it became something out of control, and you were tired of yourself at this point.

You had to live your goddamn life, you had to stop fucking fantasizing about your study-buddy.

You stripped out from your clothes and jumped into the shower. Cold water helped you to take the control of yourself, both as physical and emotional. You were okey, you were in bloody Japan as you always wanted, and you were going to fucking enjoy it. After shower, you threw yourself into the bed, tucked yourself inside the blanket and set the alarm for one hour later.

After one hour, you were swearing at yourself with your very glorious vocabulary because the only thing you did was fantasizing about Doh Kyungsoo.

“Did you rest?” he asked to you while you were leaving the hotel. You held your growl inside. “Did you take a nap?”

“I did not sleep but I leaned down for a while, so it was good. You?”

“I slept like a baby. It was very interesting when you think I am more like an insomniac.”

“I guess, your insomnia is rubbing on me.” you grumbled. “Where are we going now?”

“Eh, at least something about me can rub on you.” he rolled his eyes, your chin was dropped due to his response. “There is a tiny noodle restaurant in Ebisu, but they are very famous. We are going to there.”

“Okey.” you nod and walked beside of him.

“You look very pretty.” he turned to you. “That dress looked very good on you.”

You instantly took a look on your navy, long dress. It was very comfortable, but also elegant and your fashion freak cousin persuaded you the colour and style gave you a

“Thank you.” you replied. “Sehun chose this for me, you know he is the chef kiss when it comes to fashion.”

“He did well.” he smiled. “How is Sehun by the way, I did not see him since ages. Did he come back from France?”

“No.” you pouted. You really missed your noisy cousin. “He just came to visit for a week, then came back to school. I am not sure if he will come back to be honest, he got some important invitations from European universities.”

“Very good.” Kyungsoo’s face was lit up. He was proud of Sehun. “I know you miss him, but he has a bright career ahead of him.”

“Yes, I know.” you also smiled. Thinking about your successful but extremely playful cousin made you happy. “I just worry about him.”

“Stop babying him.” Kyungsoo punched your arm as half serious half joke. “How old is he, 27?”

“Yeah.” you laughed. “I know I baby him very much, but we all do, Kyungsoo.”

“You are just one year older than Sehun.” he smirked. “Who is going to baby you?”

“Chanyeol.” you exhaled. Kyungsoo looked at you for a second, then both of you burst into laughs because it was well known that you also took care of Chanyeol and Baekhyun as well as Sehun. “Jokes aside, I am a strong and big girl, Kyungsoo, I do not need someone babying me.”

“Maybe you can start looking for a sugar daddy to baby you?” he cocked his eyebrows to you. “Before it is going to be too late?”

“Actually, I had some candidates in my pocket.” you devilishly beamed to him. “You have no idea.”

“Beg your pardon?” his face suddenly transformed from joy to deadpanned seriousness, and his smile was disappeared immediately. “I was joking.”

“I was not.” you blinked your eye. “Some people really proposed to me.”

“For being your sugar daddy?”

“I know I am very little in your eyes, Kyungsoo” you took a deep breathe before continuing. “But here the breaking news: some people could find me attractive.”

“We are not talk about usual dates or men.” he held your arm and turned you to himself. “If you receive this kind of proposes, you have to tell me.”

“Next time, I will report you so we can decide who is going to be my sugar daddy.” you poked his ribs while he burrowed his eyebrows and radiated a strong sense of discontent. “Come on Kyungsoo, I am not going to say yes to this type of proposes, what do you think about me?”

“We are always joking about this issue,” he looked like he was cursing beneath his breath. “But when it comes to you and Baekhyun, I always suspect if you are serious or not.”

“Sugar daddy is a joke.” you hissed. “Of course, it is a joke, I have no interest in having a sugar daddy.”

“What about the proposes? Are they real?”

“Well, they are.” you murmured. Suddenly, you felt like the table was turned and you just played your ace card too early. You felt like Kyungsoo’s eyes investigated your soul to the bits.

“How many?”

“Three.” you gave up. “One from faculty, two from outside.”

“Unethical son of bitches.” he lowly cursed and caught you off guard because he generally preferred to use more polite words, even if he was cursing. “Keep them away from yourself.”

“Oh really?” you teased him by hoping to break the strange tension between you and managed to put a little smile on his face.

“Stop mocking me.” he warned you but now he was smiling widely. His mouth became a heart again, this time you averted your eyes from his face.

“Who I am to dare mocking you?” you squeaked but it was fake.

“Oh, you mock me more than even that walking noisy machine Baekhyun.” he flicked his hand. “We have to stop at this station, Ebisu Garden Place is on the way.”

He put his hand onto your waist again, and you felt like electrocuted again. Every time he touched you, and unfortunately, he sporadically did, you felt like you are dying for more. More what? You were not sure what you really wanted from Kyungsoo, but you were certain on you were desperate for more of him.

More of him.

The bus was crowded, Kyungsoo led you to a little corner, and stayed in front of you. He could be a little bit protective when it came to crowded places since you were clumsy, he generally insisted to keep you close to himself in order to catch you, if you would lose your balance, so you did not surprise when he held your wrist.

What made your heart to do a perfect all kill type of somersault was his next move, his fingers did not stop on your wrist, on the contrary they moved into your palm and grasped your hand tightly. You raised your eyes to him, he never hold your hand, never ever.

“I want to be sure.” he whispered by catching your question before you ask. “Since both of us do not know the way, and the bus is full of passengers, this is more secure.”

“Ah.” This was the best of you at the moment. You quickly realized what the heck you said but Kyungsoo sometimes can be quicker than you.

“Why? Are you unsatisfied with the reason?” His dark brown eyes were shining, his perfume smelled fucking good and the proximity between your faces did not help you.

“Why should I be?” you had to be back to play as soon as possible. “I grant you the chance of holding my hand, that’s count as charity.”

He looked at your hand for a moment, and you saw a smile formed on his lips and instead of a sarcastic reply as you expected, his eyes shaped like a crescent and shined as the fucking moon itself during a cloudless, navy night.

“Thank you, your highness.” he genuinely smiled. “May I continue to hold your hand?”

“Why?” the tone of your question was full of surprise, sounded exceptionally strange.

“Because I want to feel you.” he simply answered, and he squeezed your hand a little bit more. “For once let me feel you by my side.”

You knew that your eyes blown up, your mind was playing some tricky and dangerous games with you, you lost your shit, and you were sure about you finally made yourself mad because of your platonic interest in Kyungsoo, but even if God himself would appear in the bus in order to stop you, that would be a fruitless attempt.

You held Kyungsoo’s hand.

If he wanted to feel you by his side, you could not refuse.

You never refuse Kyungsoo.

How could you?

He was the protagonist of your secret dreams, fantasies and your goddam powerful imagination.

He was your gazelle and you were chasing him since the first day you met.

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