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yandere-sins · 3 years

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Routine

I had the absolute pleasure to write for @bellanovas who wished for a continuation for the events after Different ♥ Thank you so much for your support over Ko-fi and then continously as a commission, you’re awesome!

Characters: Yandere!Atsumu Miya x Fem!Reader x Yandere!Osamu Miya (For clarification: While they reader in the previous one-shots used they/them pronouns, we used she/her here) Warnings: Yandere, Kidnapping, Emotional Meltdown, Forced Affection, Attempted Feeding

Even you knew the charm of routine.

Even though you were kidnapped and held in this apartment against your will by not one but two crazy men, you understood how a routine helped you to look forward to certain things and not so much to others. Still, it was nice knowing Osamu woke up first, letting you and his brother pull the blanket over your heads a few minutes more until Atsumu had to get up for his morning run and you for your breakfast. You always looked forward to them leaving for the day, despite it meaning they were going to lock you in your room, but at least you had some alone time to either keep napping, read a book, or play a game. It was also the only time you were able to shower or bath without always having the nagging feeling of someone waiting at the door for you, trying to get in even though they knew you locked it.

Routine meant knowing that your peace would be disturbed with either of the two coming home. There wasn’t a pattern to who returned first and when, the two of them communicating it throughout the day without having a way of letting you know - and not always wanting you to know either. If it was Osamu, you knew you’d at least get dinner soon. If it was Atsumu who walked through the door, a big idiotic grin on his face when he saw you, you sighed, wishing he’d still be at practice. At least, if Atsumu let go of you, he let you roam the full apartment and often brought you new things to get busy with.

However, that was only your day. The meaning of ‘routine’ meant something different entirely for the twins.

Cornering you against the wall, you averted your face to escape the smell of a deodorant shower mixed with sweat. It couldn’t be helped; Atsumu was what he wanted to be - an athlete. Nonetheless, he liked to disregard your personal space in favor of getting closer and closer, even if he only just returned home after a long day, immediately causing a ruckus.

You see, for the twins, you were the height of their days. No matter how much they enjoyed their daily activities, once they were done, you were the only thing on their mind. No amount of desire and yearning could come close to the drive they felt rushing back from their work to their home to continue their routine of loving you. A feature of this routine was that things you did once had to be shown again. Had to be experienced again, especially if they were cute.

Thus, your current suffering involved a grown man cornering you, trying to squeeze out the sweet, sweet ‘Welcome Home’ you muttered to him while your mind was foggy from the pleasure you had experienced on that day. It had become a part he’d have liked to implement in his routine, especially with how stubborn you turned out to be when it came to repeating it. You weren’t raising your hands or struggled as much as you did at first when they kidnapped you, but this was a matter of principle. Once you gave in to Atsumu, you’d always have to do it, and once they had this little bit, they’d demand more enthusiasm and more work. You’ve been with them long enough. You knew how these things would end.

It had been foolish, you couldn’t lie. Even though you had only tried to soothe the flared tempers of your captors with these words and were driven by serotonin and other feelings of happiness, you could only blame yourself for doing what you did. Never before had you shown even the smallest enthusiasm over their return, and having, especially Atsumu, latch on to that now, was just an immediate consequence. Any piece of affection you gave him was swallowed wholly and manifested in his head as a new routine for him. Had it been anything else - a kiss, a hug, an apology - you’d be in the same predicament, but it just had to be this silly greeting.

Perhaps you should have tried humoring him just to please him and get him off you, but the thought alone made you want to throw up. Once you’d allow this to fester in his routine, Osamu, too, would demand the same treatment. Before you knew it, the words alone wouldn’t be enough to satisfy their growing hunger for your attention. Suddenly you’d have to be affectionate with them when they arrived at your door, and they’d start to crave for more than you had to offer. There would be no avoiding or forgetting about something they made their routine, and soon enough, it would need to become part of your schedule too.

“I’m home,” he cooed, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. He was prompting you, fishing for what he wanted. Atsumu had a gift to ignore failure, simply trying it again even if his endeavors hadn’t been successful yet. ‘No’ wasn’t in his dictionary, and his understanding of you entirely revolved around loving you and gaining attention and praise from you. Fighting him was the worst. Though Osamu scared you more on a general day-to-day-basis, Atsumu was undeniably trickier than his brother. At least Osamu knew how to take a hint, while Atsumu ignored any and all that didn’t suit him.

“Home,” he continued, lips fluttering against your temple. “Home~” Another kiss to your chin. Arms started to crawl around your body, feeling like caterpillars wandering over your skin. Knowing what was about to happen, you tensed up, feeling your flight instincts setting in. But where to? Atsumu was already all around you.

Reluctantly you complied with Atsumu’s demands, his pulls and pushes leading you to the nearby couch. You knew if you wouldn’t move by your own efforts, he’d drag you with him, and not very gently so. At least that much you had already gone through, experienced, and submitted to. You preferred moving over bruising from his grips and pulls. It still wasn’t easy to give in to the fall when Atsumu plummeted onto the cushions, making you lose your steady feet on the ground in favor of seating you on his lap. Still, even that was manageable, though you wished you could have chosen any other position than straddling him.

The two of you settled like this, his deodorant still filling your nose with its pungent smell, but the hand placing upon the back of your head pushed you forward into his chest relentlessly. It was dizzying but not the worst thing you ever smelled, even though you’d have preferred his deodorant not to be as strong and musky.

Satisfied, Atsumu embraced you tightly for a few seconds, taking a deep breath of you in return, until you started to stir from the uncomfortable hug. At least for now, you figured he had given up on demanding your sweet voice to welcome him home, if only so because he wanted to cuddle. It may seem like a compromise to him, but you knew it was him forcing you to decide which was the greater bad of the two options he was giving you. Nothing was stopping Atsumu from burying his hands beneath your shirt, his skin noticeably colder than you after he just came home, enough to make you flinch lightly and dig your hands into his arms.

You tried to get up and free yourself. Still, Atsumu merely chuckled, his response a joking yet demanding, “No! Warm me!” as he reached up all the way over your back, well-maintained, soft hands digging into your sides roughly. Taking a sharp breath, you had a hard time toggling the pain and uncomfortableness that rose in you, wondering what he was up to while Atsumu remained calm and indifferent about your struggles. A few more shifts were all you did, feeling his fingertips squeeze you harder every time you moved, forcing you to give up if you wanted him to release you from the pain.

Immediately, his hands became soft again as he felt you slump in his hug submissively, Atsumu too taking a deep breath before rubbing his cheek against yours affectionately. The areas he had just clenched down on burned up quickly, but you felt the relief set in as the pain slowly subsided. Littering the side of your face with kisses, he finally pulled out a hand from your shirt again, directing your head against his chest once more. You could feel his body relax as he followed your example to slump into the couch, one hand caressing the back of your head with slow, tender strokes while the other one held you in place around your waist precautiously, so you wouldn’t jump up. He held you like a precious, loved child, though he was nothing even remotely close to a parent.

There was no escape from someone so eager to pretend this was a healthy relationship. That you were an actual couple hugging and embracing each other, even if you were more of a limp doll in his arms, barely able to bring up the enthusiasm to hold him in return. All you did was fixate your eyes on the entrance to your room while your ear rested against Atsumu’s chest, hearing an excited beating through his shirt.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

“I did really well today! Everyone was praising me for my setting,” Atsumu began to recount.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

“And Bokkun, he--” Interrupting himself with a laugh, Atsumu shook his head, heart beginning to race a little faster. “He tried to look extra cool, but he totally jumped into the net today and got stuck!”

Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

“What about you?” he shifted his attention, and you knew he looked down at the top of your head from above, his thumb coming forth to brush over your eyebrows. “I played Mario Kart today,” you whispered, unwilling to create an awkward silence and cause him to urge you on with more painful touches.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

“Let’s play together after dinner!” Atsumu enthusiastically exclaimed, and you knew it wasn’t an invitation, but a firm statement of how you were going to spend your evening. It also didn’t surprise you that despite talking about Volleyball before, his heart only began to race now that you had spoken up. Atsumu could be that easy to read if he allowed it.

You thought of the possibility of a nap as he kept spluttering excitedly about how he was going to win against you and how much better he was at games than his brother. Atsumu called it ‘the perk of being the older twin’ that he was winning so much, despite you remembering that he lost almost all the games lately, suspecting it was because he tried to gain your approval by letting you win.

But your stream of thoughts were harshly interrupted by a sudden hand grabbing you by the arm, pulling you off Atsumu’s lap and out of his embrace. Atsumu’s merrily blabbering came to a halt, and you caught a glimpse of his face wrinkling while you fought with getting to your feet alone. “Go shower, you stink, ‘Tsumu,” you heard Osamu’s familiar voice raise behind you, another help coming to support your struggles.

“It’s not like [Name] cared,” Atsumu hissed, rising after you, their two bodies giving you a feeling of menace as they kept you between each other. “We just enjoyed cuddling, what’s wrong with you?!”

“It’s dinnertime, and you’re still not showered and changed, that’s what’s wrong, Dumbass.”

Atsumu did a short, upset flinch, a huff falling off his lips before he trotted off, pouting. Nothing angered him more than admitting his faults, and Osamu pointing them out didn’t help his swollen ego. Finally, after what seemed to be a quick pat-down, Osamu’s hands disappeared too, and he muttered a short “‘am home,” when you finally turned around, though other than Atsumu he wasn’t as persistent on you returning the greeting as you avoided your eyes and ignored it. Still, he waited for a hesitant, unsure moment, and you supposed the stakes were high when even Osamu considered delaying his routine just to hear your response.

But nodding slowly, his patience took over, and he turned to leave, having you trot after him with a relieved, inwardly sigh. Passing by the twin’s bathroom, you heard Atsumu’s phone play music as he started up a shower behind the door, but with Osamu being unbothered by it, you couldn’t care much about it either. Instead, you felt your stomach grumbling, your last meal having taken place well over five hours ago.

Absentmindedly as you thought back to the bread and egg you had in the morning, you stepped behind the kitchen isle, only to gain a very sharp, alert glare from Osamu, catching you by surprise. Understanding quickly, you were back on the other side, sliding onto one of the three stools on the other side of the kitchen counter, waiting patiently, for this was Osamu’s routine and not yours.

Where you got your food depended on what either of the twins was feeling like. For Atsumu, it could be a quick plate of pasta on the table in your room or convenience store-bought items on the couch while watching TV. But for Osamu, when it came to be his turn - and luckily that was more often than Atsumu’s - he had you sitting pretty and proper at his side as he finished dinner, mostly served in the kitchen for convenience.

Cooking was a skill he had in his blood. No wonder he raised ‘Onigiri Miya’ to be a famous hotspot in no time. But besides lavish onigiri, he also was decent with everything else he tried out and wasn’t stingy on bringing home fresh ingredients to feed you and his brother. Even Atsumu’s unique needs for his sports career were met by Osamu’s food, and though he did it with a straight face, you knew he enjoyed cooking very much.

Being dependent was despicable, that much you knew, but even so, his food could make the world a little better. Even if you wished it wasn’t, well, from someone so toxic and sinister. Someone, whose greatest pleasure was watching you eat the food he prepared for you. Someone who was that kind of crazy.

It was criminal that the plate before you smelled so damn good.

Going without food for a long time, or even just a few more hours than usual that day, it was heaven to smell the curry whose steam rose to your nose sweetly. Without doing anything lately to upset Osamu, he even picked out the vegetables and ingredients you liked. A trick he liked to use on you whenever you ‘misbehaved’ was feeding you with only the things you despised. So right now, it was pure bliss, even though you knew it was nothing short of being the reward part of his carrot and stick methods.

You started to scoop a spoonful of it up, not waiting for any signal - you didn’t have to do that, luckily - before putting it in your mouth, letting the hearty taste lay down on your taste buds and the comfortable warmth spread in your body. Usually, you cursed Osamu in your mind, but this day all you could think of was how wonderful the nourishing this meal was for you. Enthusiastically, you kept stuffing your mouth full with it, hoping you’d never get full and your plate never empty.

At least for a while, it truly seemed that way, as you ate and ate some more. However, soon enough, your tummy started to feel stuffed, every spoon getting harder and harder to swallow. You weren’t sure why you were feeling this way when you snapped back from your food trance, hesitating to take the next spoon, only to catch an entirely different spoon putting rice and curry on your plate. Confused, you looked up and at Osamu, who had a very pure and tender smile playing on his lips as he kept taking small portions from his plate, to leave them on yours.

“Uhm…” you mumbled, blinking a few times in confusion, and he, too, seemed to snap out of his thoughts, meeting your gaze wordlessly. “I’m full, so…” you tried to explain, putting your spoon aside. “Why? Don’t you like it?” It was almost laughable with how much his voice dipped low in disappointment as he said that, Osamu’s eyeing your plate gloomily, shoulder’s slacking. “N-No, it was delicious,” you muttered, a pang of nervosity driving through you. The last thing you wanted was to get on his bad side now.

“Well, then,” he chirped up again, continuing his curry transfer. “You had no dinner yesterday, after… you know…”

Oh, you knew. And frankly, remembering it now made you feel even worse about the kitchen counter you had sullied the day before with your actions than you usually felt sitting here and contemplating your life choices as Osamu cooked. “Breakfast wasn’t much, so I wanted to make sure you eat enough today.”

“I’m fine, really,” you assured him, but Osamu biting his lip with a doubtful shine in his eyes almost made it seem like he couldn’t believe it even after you ate your portion and most of his. “One more,” he prompted, holding up the hill of rice-curry-mix on his spoon to you, and you felt your stomach turn both from thinking about consuming any more and from letting him feed you. Backing away ever so slightly, you bit back on the urge to decline his offer verbally, instead taking your own spoon to eat from your own plate with your own cutlery.

Osamu merely watched, a shade falling over his eyes. Still, unprompted, he proceeded to leave the fill on his spoon on your plate again, proceeding to push you to eat more. You didn’t like to acknowledge this side of him, always wanting to believe he was more mature and tempered than his brother, but Osamu, too, could take too much pride in his doings and get pouty when he didn’t get the recognition for his work. It was a bad trait they shared, and though you tried to ignore his watchful eyes whenever you ate his cooking, you knew he was watching you with boundless joy because it was his cooking you were eating. Sometimes, like that day, you even ate with pleasure.

It made you aware that he reveled in this feeling of being your provider, the hand feeding you, and you wondered if he always thought this way about himself, or only now that you had allowed him closer than ever to you, caressing the remnants of doubts into security. Perhaps, he felt more confirmed in his beliefs after you led him on, believed more in a connection than he did before.

Scooping only the smallest amount of curry onto your tool, you proceeded to have some more tastes, hoping it would satisfy Osamu if he saw you eat at least a bit more. You dared to think not even he really knew what he wanted from you, and his actions were only placeholders for his true intentions. The intentions of watching you do things that were pleasing to him.

Even though the hand enveloping yours suddenly came as a shock, it was almost a saving grace if not for the person behind it. Cooling drops of water fell onto the side of your face, and your shoulder as Atsumu leaned over your side, pulling the spoon to his mouth with a loud, “Aah!”

Before anyone could react, he had already taken a mouthful, wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb while his other hand held up the towel around his hips. “It’s good!” he announced, letting out a fond sigh while licking his lips. “Where’s my plate?”

“Where are your clothes?” Osamu retorted sharply.

“In my room, why?”

Staring each other down while Atsumu used your hand casually to keep feeding himself curry, you were both baffled by the exchange as well as him not getting his own spoon or not use your hand to navigate food to his maw. Mannerly, you turned a blind eye towards the towel or the lack of clothes thereof, but an uncomfortable friction began to spread in the air nonetheless.

“Get some clothes and stop spreading water all over the floor, and we can talk about you getting dinner.”

“You’re too sticky with yer damn rules,” Atsumu complained, finally letting go of your hand and turning to leave for his room. “What if someone slips? What if she,” Osamu worried, pointing to you though you weren’t comfortable with being used in this conversation, “falls and hits her head? You want that?”

“‘Course not,” Atsumu quietly admitted, sounding offended, a little worried even, but mostly pouting. “At least get me a plate too,” were his last words before he toddled off, and Osamu sighed, rolling his eyes at his brother before getting up. He wasn’t fooling you, you knew you weren’t a child anymore, and you wouldn’t slip on a few drops of water on the floor - at least, not seriously. It would have made sense for him to think so little of you, simply to undermine your being, but you couldn’t believe it yourself. Watching as Osamu filled another plate with steaming, delicious curry, you pushed your plate away from you, making it very clear you were done.

However, before you could go, Atsumu returned, taking the seat at your other side for himself and using your spoon to get an up front fill on the food, Osamu returning shortly after, scolding him for eating your food. “Don’t steal from other people’s plates, ‘Tsumu.”

“She’s done,” he confirmed what you had wanted to tell Osamu all this time. “You’re just jealous because I get to eat from her plate.”

“‘Am not.”

“Tell that someone who believes you.”

Their bickering continued, a laughable display of their sibling relationship. As if they could not go a moment without a tease or a snappy comment. As if this was normal, and to some degree, it seemed like it. By the corners of their mouth ever so often twitching upwards, as they joked on each other’s expenses, or the plates being put into the sink to be washed off later, it was all so normal. Just an ordinary evening, on a typical day, with not so sane individuals around you, but overall it appeared so awfully normal.

Supposedly, that’s what routine did to you. It made a situation that was nothing short of abstruse seem alright and normal, even though the tears welling up as your heart clenched with the realization, weren’t at all a sign of normality. Rather, it was desperation, pity, and fear of what was going on. What was becoming of you when even you started to adapt to this routine of your new days, a routine brought to you by the twins rather than from your endeavors and your life going forward. What would happen? Where would your life lead to?

You couldn’t care about the gazes you earned, two conflicted bastards watching the tears leave lines as they rolled down your face, cold and calculating. Still, neither of them reached out to comfort you yet. They wanted to see where the situation was going, what was happening. If you’d lash out again at them, throw a tantrum, or just fold into yourself. Fulfilling your needs wasn’t always easy with the relationship you three had, and they glanced at each other, hoping their twin would know more about what to do than they did individually.

But neither of their routines included tending to a meltdown, and yours didn’t either. They could pretend to be normal as much as they wanted. Still, the paradise they tried to uphold daily was rotting and decaying under the surface even if everything seemed to be fine. Laughs, fun, and forceful measurements couldn’t bring them what they really wanted, but it broke you into pieces more and more every day. Their routine and their acting slowly made you wilt and lose yourself, and neither you nor they knew how to deal with that. How to deal with your own routine of slowly succumbing to their forcing.

They didn’t know.

They didn’t know, so Osamu emerged from the kitchen to help you up, drag you back to the couch in your room, and sit you down between the two brothers as they put on the TV, latched a big blanket over you three. Their hands rested on your body, but you weren’t even uncomfortable with their touches at that moment, one palm rubbing over your lower back and one on top of your thighs comfortingly. A thumb drawing circles over your knee, while Atsumu pulled you to rest against his chest again, experience the warmth and comfort of another person wanting to help you through whatever you were experiencing. It was something they couldn’t understand, but didn’t intend to happen, at least, that much you took from Osamu’s worried frown as he wiped away the tears escaping your eyes.

You simply hoped that these meltdowns wouldn’t become a part of your or their routine ever.

Especially not when they took turns in gazing at you lovingly, adjusting their bodies so you’d be comfortable, and leaving tender kisses on the top of your head, learning that despite it all, they were the closest you’d ever have in terms of comfort ever again.

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2996-sana · 4 years

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Seeking Arrangement - Rosé

Part 1

The pitter patter of the rain served as background noise for Y/N and Lisa who was sat on their couch munching on some cucumbers, eyes glued to the Kdrama playing on the TV. Y/N let out a dramatic sigh as she watches Ko Moonyoung and Moon Gangtae lock lips for the first time. The sound was not lost on her best friend who shot her a grin.

“Are you going all soft again, Y/N?”

Y/N rolled her eyes at the teasing tone in Lisa’s voice. This was not new as she was always on the receiving end of Lisa’s jokes about her being such a hopeless romantic. Though Lisa found this amusing about her best friend, she thinks there is strength in Y/N’s ability to believe in love after the shit her ex-girlfriend Suzy put her through. Could you really blame her? Being in love was without a doubt one of the best feelings in the world in Y/N’s book. For her, it was an overwhelming yet warm feeling that stretches throughout your whole body once it enters your life and leaves you feeling like you’re on top of the world (but its all fun and games until your partner cheats on you).

Despite this though, she was not in a hurry to find love. In fact, after the tragedy that was her last relationship, she just wanted to lie low and have fun for a while.

“Shut up. You’re lucky you’re in a stable relationship,” Y/N scoffs.

Lisa and her girlfriend Jennie have been together for 2 years now (3 years next month) and Y/N envied the love shared between the two.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. No one can resist you for too long,” Lisa tries to reassure her best friend, wrapping an arm around her.

Y/N grimaced, “Eh…I don’t really want anything serious at the moment. Especially after Suzy.”

Lisa pretends to gag at the sound of Y/N’s ex-girlfriend’s name, “I agree. Have fun and take it easy. You should like…I don’t know…find a sugar daddy or something.” They both chuckle at Lisa’s words, knowing she would never even think about it.

•

It was hours later on her bed while typing out a reply to some guy she matched on Tinder that she realizes how hard it was to find a worthy candidate to waste her time on. These boys lacked substance and were coming at her with the same pick-up lines. She wonders if they all got them at the same Fuckboy Convention. It didn’t help that she rarely matched with girls either.

She groans at the reply that came through.

Wyd tho? U tryna fuck?

“The audacity of these boys,” she mutters under her breath, closing the app.

As she stares at her ceiling zoning out, she remembers Lisa’s words from hours ago. A sugar daddy. She laughs at her best friend’s ridiculous idea. She could never.

Unless? No. It’s stupid. She doesn’t wanna give out any sugar AT ALL.

But she was bored out of her mind. For the past 3 months, she has been cooped up in her bed wallowing in self-pity while listening to the very suspicious sounds coming out of Lisa’s room. There were also only so many pep-talks she could give herself until she grew tired of her own words. It was this that fueled her to sit up and turn on her laptop. After all, she considered boredom as an invitation for her to find something that would raise her serotonin levels. And what is the value of life without a little fun? She owed herself the first few months of her breakup to relax and take care of herself after all the mental damage, but now she needed a little play. She needed both the loud and quiet joys of life, peace with a little bit of wild mixed in. It was needed to feed her soul.

She also couldn’t lie that she craved some sort of human connection and validation. Yeah, she definitely was not proud of that last one.

Y/N stared at the keyboard, not believing what she was able to type into Google.

How to find a sugar daddy?

What she found out during her deep dive in the wondrous world of sugar daddies and babies was the number one site to find one was called Seeking Arrangement.

So that is where she found herself, blinking at the statement written in bold.

100% Free to Join!

To hell with it, she thinks as she begins to fill out the application.

30 minutes later, she nods in approval as she scanned through the photos she chose. She would totally hit herself up if she was a sad middle-aged man desperate for companionship. As she hits submit, she was met with pictures of men – and surprisingly women, although there were considerably more men – complete with their basic information.

Looking for a woman to spoil.

Looking for love.

Looking for a loving companion.

Looking for a good time.

It was nothing she didn’t expect to find at a sugar baby site but it was the net worth of the men and women displayed on her screen that caught her eye. She was almost tempted to message one of them but couldn’t find it in herself to do so. She rolls her eyes at the thought.

She spent hours researching and signing up for a sugar baby website and she still finds herself being stubborn about making the first move.

Glancing at the clock, she realized that it was almost 4AM. She decides that she was going to wait for someone to message her first instead. Besides it gives off the vibe that she’s hard to get and that’s always a little bit sexy, right?

•

"Y/N! Wake up! I made banana pancakes.”

Slowly opening her eyes and stretching, her foot meets a hard surface. The cold metallic feeling on her foot was enough to remind her of her antics 7 hours ago. She hides her face on her hands, sighing. Why did she think that was a good idea?

Once she was out of her room, she was met with the sweet smell of banana pancakes and nutella. She dragged herself to where the smell was most present and found herself in the kitchen where both Lisa and Jennie sat on the counter. Jennie threw a gummy smile her way while her best friend simply nodded at her presence, busy stuffing herself with her girlfriend’s banana pancakes.

“Vas happenin’, love birds?” she greets them with a faux British accent.

“What kind of dollar store Zayn Malik am I hearing right now?” came Lisa’s reply to which Y/N’s response was to smear Nutella all over her best friend’s face.

“Yah, Y/N!” Lisa whines as she hits Y/N on the shoulder.

Y/N gasps as she prepares to retaliate.

“Children! Stop it.” Jennie scolds the two. She was used to the duo’s playful fighting but she also knew it could go on for hours if she doesn’t put a stop to it.

Both were quick to stop but stuck their tongues out at each other.

Y/N grabbed her plate to return to her room. She glanced at the couple making sure they were preoccupied enough not to notice what she was up to.

You have 11 unopened messages!

A loose grin formed on her face at the notification. Not bad. She hurriedly opened her inbox to find the different men who deemed her worthy to reach out to.

It was all pretty tame, it being the typical greeting. She sighed, already bored. It wasn’t until she reached the bottom of her inbox where a small gasp came out of her. She sat up and read the sender’s name.

Rosé Park. A woman.

She excitedly clicked on the woman’s profile.

It only took the woman’s profile picture for Y/N to realize that this Rosé Park was the type of woman she fantasized about. For starters, she was a brunette and the woman was a blonde. She was a sucker for blondes. Who could resist a good brunette and blonde wlw duo?

Santana and Brittany. Rose and Rosie. Clarke and Lexa. Piper and Alex. Need she say more?

Basically, Rosé Park was a dreamboat. Something radiated from her pictures that Y/N knew rendered her irresistible to both men and women. She could outshine any of these men on the site any day. It also only took her profile picture to realize that the woman was a big deal. Her outfit looked straight out of the pages of a fashion magazine. Why would gorgeous and rich 25-year old Rosé Park want to talk to a normal and boring 23-year old like her?

Y/N composed herself, fighting back a smile, before returning to her and Rosé’s chat.

Hi, gorgeous. I passed by your profile and knew I had to talk to you. Looking forward to your response x

Y/N’s blush seared through her cheeks and for a minute she thought her face was on fire. She suddenly felt awkward, demure, and coy; even going as far as attempting to hide her rosy features behind her slim fingers even if no one else was around to see her. She blames it on the fact that an insanely beautiful woman complimented her. So naturally, it took her at least 5 minutes of over-analyzing every possible response for her to actually send one.

Hi there :) You’re one to talk. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.

To her surprise, three little dots indicating Rosé was typing appeared beside the woman’s picture.

Haha, cute.

Hmm what brings you to this site, Y/N?

The woman’s question made her pause. She doesn’t even know the answer to that. Was she supposed to make some shit up?

Um I was bored.

She facepalms herself as she hit send. Really? Your brain cogs couldn't turn fast enough to come up with a more interesting response, Y/N?

Y/N thought she blew it as 45 minutes has passed and no response from the blonde bombshell came. She internally cursed herself for her boring response to the woman. Rosé probably thought she was an airhead.

•

It was 10PM after binge watching another Kdrama with Jennie and Lisa that she remembered being left on delivered by Rosé. Her mood quickly sours as she realizes she ruined her chance at getting to know the beautiful woman. Thinking to distract herself with the depressing fact, she goes to check if any of the men messaged her back. Sure, a man could never fill the void of a woman but she really needed to talk to another human being besides Lisa and Jennie.

Y/N was apparently in for a surprise because what awaited her was a message from the woman.

Well, I hope to provide some sort of entertainment for you ;)

I’m not one to beat around the bush Y/N. I think you’re stunning and a good lay in bed. That’s a really good source of entertainment for the both of us, no?

Jesus Christ. She was not expecting that.

Y/N knew what being a sugar baby entailed but she was still brought to a shock at how blunt Rosé was being and so early on into the conversation. The thought of being with Rosé like that, being able to feel her skin against hers, the godly sounds that it would elicit…

Her private thoughts made herself blush. It seems like if there was anything Rosé was good at it was making Y/N blush. But her unholy thoughts about the woman didn’t create a cute soft pink tint on her cheek like a healthy outdoors glow, it was beet red. Y/N figured that Rosé was probably highly practiced at the art of seduction. Rosé’s looks although a masterpiece sculpted by all the deities that exist… well, nothing so pretty could possibly harm you, right? But it was that combined with Rosé’s choice of words that had anyone she chose to even focus her attention on jumping through hoops to please her. So, she swallowed her pride and forced herself to play it cool, putting on a mask that she thought would appease the woman she really wanted to impress.

I like the way you think, Rosé. I like to think I make great company in bed too ;) Give me a time and place and I’ll be there.

•

That message was what lead Y/N to the 21st floor of Seoul Forest Trimage Towers, one of Seoul’s most luxurious and exclusive apartment complex, standing outside of Rosé’s penthouse two days later.

All the reasons not to go through with it and just leave came flooding in. Y/N can feel the soft panic growing inside her body as she wills herself to breathe in and out, not quite ready to ring the doorbell just yet. But before she could finish her fourth exhale, the door was opened to reveal the woman who has not left her mind ever since signing up for that damned site.

“I grew tired of watching you hyperventilate so I thought I’d do you a favor and open the door for you.”

Y/N almost choked on air as she looks at Rosé for the first time. The pictures on her profile did not do her justice at all. The woman could have graced every billboard or magazine in the city and she wouldn’t even question it.

Y/N did not say anything - did not know what to say. She was conscious of the smirking woman standing before her, dressed in a white dress that stopped just above her knees.

“Do you wanna come in, Y/N?” Rosé’s voice was dripping with amusement, eyebrows raised. Shyness wasn’t usually Y/N’s gig so what the hell was going on?

“Yeah, sure.”

Once she entered the threshold that Rosé called home, she immediately noticed how fancy and expensive everything was. She was immediately drawn to the large window overlooking the whole city. The glass was so clear that it looked like a high definition screen at the movie theatre.

Rosé quickly picked up on her fascination, grabbing hold of Y/N’s hand and leading her to the glass window. “Cool, huh? I picked this unit because of the view. The city below is so far away it's like another world. This penthouse is my cocoon and the window, well, the window shows me as much detail as I want to know.”

Y/N could only stare at their joined hands and then to the woman beside her, intoxicated by her words. “It’s beautiful, Rosé. I’d kill to wake up to this every way. You have great taste.”

“Yeah I do have great taste huh?” Rosé looked her up and down, biting her lip before chuckling. (Y/N swears she saw the gates of heaven open at the sound)

•

A few hours later after a candle lit dinner prepared by Rosé herself and a bottle of wine, Y/N finds herself straddled in the living room couch being kissed roughly on the neck as pure pleasure runs through her entire body.

“Fuck,” she pants as she feels Rosé grind on her. Unable to control herself anymore, Y/N holds Rosé’s head in her hands and pulls her into a fiery and passionate kiss.

“Someone couldn’t wait,” Rosé smiled against their lips.

With a laugh, Y/N pushed Rosé down on the couch, switching their positions, not breaking the kiss. Y/N’s hands slowly work their way around her body, tugging on Rosé’s dress.

“Off.”

Rosé sat up slightly, allowing Y/N to pull down the zipper of her dress, feeling skilled fingers unhook her bra. Rosé tears it off herself before reattaching their lips. Immediately, Y/N’s hands found itself on Rosé’s breasts as she tugged on her nipples.

Rosé gasps against her lips causing Y/N to pull away, making her way down and sucking on the skin surrounding Rosé’s breasts before soothing it out with her tongue.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you but I’m not complaining,” Rosé giggles but whimpers midway as she feels Y/N’s tongue latch onto her nipple.

“Probably the wine.”

Y/N couldn’t help but think that their bodies fit together as if they were made just for this, to fall into one another, to feel this natural rhythm.

Y/N’s hands drop to Rosé’s thighs, caressing her from above her panties. Rosé moans at the feeling of the soft silk rubbing against her as Y/N’s mouth still busied herself with her nipple.

“Oh my god.”

Rosé grips her hand tightly onto Y/N’s hair as she feels the wetness between her legs. “Take your clothes off. I wanna see you.”

Y/N stops devouring her nipple to pull her shirt off. Rosé drops her hands to the zipper of Y/N’s jeans pulling it down and slipping her own hand in.

“Good to know I’m not the only one dripping wet,” she teases.

Before she could begin her sweet torture on Y/N, she feels hands finally moving inside her panties and her mind went blank.

Fingers toyed with her nub making Rosé bite down on Y/N’s shoulder. Thumb continuing to rub Rosé’s nub, Y/N slipped two fingers in. Rosé moaned so loud that Y/N swears it was enough to get her off.

Pumping her fingers around Rosé, Y/N felt a smirk making its way on her face. She couldn’t believe she was on top of the godly woman seeing her face all scrunched up in ecstasy. She feels Rosé pulling her in for another heated kiss as she picks up her pace inside the woman. With every moan and whimper coming out of Rosé’s mouth, Y/N feels her own wetness.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Y/N mutters under her breath.

She could feel Rosé getting close as the woman’s grinding on her fingers became sloppier and her breaths became more uneven. Burying her face on Y/N’s shoulder, Rosé tries to stifle her moans as she finally comes undone.

Y/N slowly leaves feathery kisses up and down Rosé’s neck as she waits for her to come down from her high.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N.” she hears Rosé trying to catch her breath. “I honestly wasn’t expecting you to take charge tonight.”

“Maybe I’m just full of surprises,” Y/N grinned, pressing a kiss on Rosé’s temple.

Rosé slowly sat up as Y/N leaves her place on top of her. “I guess you are.”

They both sat in silence as they picked up their clothes scattered on the floor before putting them back on. Rosé was the first one to break the ice as she reaches for her purse on the wooden table. It was at that moment Y/N remembered why she was even there in the first place. Disappointment stabbed through her like a knife. Somehow during the duration of the night, she made herself forget that she was there because of an agreement made online. As if she was there spending the night with a new lover, both milking the feeling of a love that just arrived. The night started out like a sweet melody of a blackbird -- full of promise, freshness, and newness to come. Now it sat like a cold cup of coffee waiting to be drained away. All of a sudden, she felt dirty and used and all she had to blame was herself. Rosé’s words from a few hours ago during dinner echoed through her head.

I signed up because I have no time for relationships. I’m just too busy for that. It saves me the hassle of meeting new people and having to get to know them, y’know?

And truthfully, no, Y/N didn’t know. She remembers Lisa telling her she loves like a puppy - devoted, playful, and trusting. So, no, Y/N didn’t know. She just didn’t roll the way Rosé rolled.

“Here you go,” Rosé reached out with a wad of cash in her hand. “Go treat yourself. You deserve it.”

It was the way Rosé said it, so confident and smug, that Y/N knew that she was not Rosé’s first rodeo. The woman sounded like she does it so often that she just didn’t care anymore.

“How many girls receive this same amount of cash?” Y/N laughs quietly and she hopes it didn’t sound as bitter as she felt.

“A couple a week,” Rosé grins so nonchalantly it makes Y/N stomach churn. “Why?”

“Nothing,” Y/N awkwardly shifts in her place on the couch. “Um, you really don’t need to. I’m not looking for cash.”

Rosé actually looked shocked at the girl’s statement. “I’m a little bit lost here.”

“I signed up because I was bored and curious not because I’m low on money,” she laughs keeping an unamused tone. “I really didn’t expect to reach this far ahead. So, you can keep your money Rosé.”

Y/N got up and started walking towards the door. She was halfway there when she felt Rosé grab her wrist.

“Why do you sound angry? Don’t act as if you didn’t know why I invited you here, Y/N.” Rosé looked at her confused. “We met through Seeking Arrangements for god’s sake. I thought we had a good time.”

Rosé did have a good time. Aside from the mind-blowing sex, she was impressed by Y/N’s ability to be present during a conversation, always having her own two cents to offer, which lead to a lot of fun and meaningful discourse all throughout dinner. She had never met a woman through that website as enchanting and beautiful as Y/N. Y/N was a smart woman who was good at sex and Rosé liked that. A lot. So why is she being difficult?

Rosé saw different emotions flash through Y/N’s face before settling on a look of defeat. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I did have a good time.”

Y/N stepped closer to Rosé. “I loved being here with you and money was never on my mind tonight. Maybe that’s why I reacted that way. I’m sorry. I joined Seeking Arrangements for fun because honestly…I was lonely and bored and looking for some sort of human connection and that’s what you gave me tonight. I just got lucky that you reached out. That was all I needed I promise.”

She offers Rosé a genuine smile before turning to leave once more. “Have a good rest of your night, Rosé.”

Y/N hears footsteps behind her as Rosé opens the door for her, a smile planted on her face. “You’re something else, Y/N.”

Before the door closes, Rosé speaks once more. “It’s Rosie now by the way.”

The last thing she saw was the woman throwing her a wink before the door finally closed.

#blackpink #blackpink x reader #blackpink imagine #rosé x reader #rosé imagine #blackpink scenarios

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