#and expand to set up plot point TWO

[words-with-wren]

This next chapter is a MESS but i think i hit one of the four Plot Points i need to hit to establish the climax. As a treat, here's a snippet.

“That’s my brother,” he snarled.  “Stanley--”  “No. Shut up. I’m mad at you. Don’t you dare touch my brother.”

[notebooks-and-laptops]

Why Fenris could Never Cameo in Dragon Age: The Veilguard

In the run up to Dragon age: The Veilguard, I was almost certain that Fenris would be our main legacy character from previous games. Not only has he been central in the comics released between DAI and DATV, he is an escaped Tevinter slave who's plot revolved around magisters, magic and the structural prejudices surrounding elves in Thedas. Not only that, but he's canonically in Tevinter killing slavers currently so he's geographically in the right place for us to meet him.

About halfway through the game though, it was clear to me: Fenris could never cameo in The Veilguard. Because he'd break it.

How the Veilguard treats Thedas is...odd to me, to say the least. I will be writing another post about how much I adored the expanded big lore in this game (the titans, ancient elves were spirits, where the blight came from etc.) and yet while these large lore expansions worked for me, the actual culture of modern Thedas is entirely softened, its sharp edges filed down until it's a sanitised fantasy world devoid of what made the franchise so vibrant and compelling in the first place.

So let's start with Fenris and slavery. In all three games, the reality of slavery is pushing at the corners of the world. In DAO Loghain allows Tevinter Magisters to enslave elves in order to raise money for his war effort. In DA2 Fenris is fighting to be free from slavers who will not leave him be, let alone the reminders that the city was built by slaves which are everywhere. In DAI one of the two possible mini-bosses is Calpurnia who was a slave, and characters such as Gatt and Dorian both show us how much slavery is tied into Tevinters culture and success.

But DATV the first game actually set in Tevinter where we get to see the famed Minrathous...it's like the game purposefully wants to avoid the issue. I can feel it tilting the camera away to not allow me to see. Slavery is mentioned, but never talked about in depth or as a specifically ELVEN problem in Tevinter. This might have been done to be less problematic, it feels ignored.

We are in DOCK TOWN. We are at the DOCKS. You would think that slaves from all over Thedas who are being smuggled and bought by various groups would be everywhere. You would think that the injustice in dock town would be partly built on the back of ships we've seen in the comics crammed with elves in chains. This is the world Dragon age set up for us. And yet...nothing. zilch. A tiny easily skippable side quest where we free a couple of venatori slaves, but only one of whom is an elf.

None of our Tevinter characters seem to have been influenced by their culture even a little bit when it comes to how they view elves; there is no moment when Neve fucks up and says something prejudiced, no moment when Bellara or Davrin are distrustful of her for being a Tevinter mage.

The same goes for Zevran; a character who epitomised the issues with the crows. The crows have consistently been characterised as very morally dubious assassins who kill for the highest bidder and who buy children on the slave market and torture them as they grow in order to assure that they reach maturity able to withstand torture without giving away a client's name. Zevran is very explicit about the fact that if you fail a contract your life is forefit.

Nobody responds particularly to you if you're an elf. Nobody trusts rook less for it in Tevinter. Nobody treats Rook any differently. Even DAI had better mechanics for this; with nobles in Orlais less likely to trust you as an elf.

Considering one of the main plot points of this game and what makes Solas sympathetic is the fact that he was fighting against the slavery of ancient elves...you'd think the game might want to mirror that in modern Thedas. It might want to show us how characters fighting to end slavery in Tevinter are similar to Solas and how the society Solas fought against was similar to the one that characters we love such as Fenris have fought against in modern Thedas. Maybe we'd want to explore how in a world of slavery like this, how could the answer NOT be to tear it all down? Maybe we should have that option at the end of the game so it really can chose whether we agree with Solas and his plans or not.

Adding Fenris to this game would entirely break the game because Fenris refuses to allow you to look away from this horror. He is a sympathetic character who had to learn to trust mages again because of course he didn't trust them. Of course he didn't. Fenris wouldn't allow the camera to shift focus because he's literally covered in the lyrium scars that show how slaves are used as experiments in Tevinter. Fenris WOULD question Neve on how she feels about elves and slaves. Fenris WOULD have things to say about Lucanis and the crows (let alone the fact Lucanis is an abomonation). So he could never be in this game; he'd drop a bomb on it's carefully constructed blinders to the very society its supposed to be set in.

And yet, in DATV, the crows are presented as...a found family of misfits and orphans? The politician who opposes the crows having absolute power in Antiva is framed as a comically evil idiot who doesn't understand that the crows are ontologically good. Yet...they're NOT. Crows in this game act more like a secret rebel group than an assassin organisation. We see no crow taking contracts with the VERY RICH venatori magisters despite being hired killers. We see crows just refuse to kill people despite having a contract because 'its crueler to leave them alive'. The crows don't feel like the crows here, they feel like a softened version of a cool assassin group who are cool because they wear black and purple.

Our pirate group are also sanitised; the Lords of Fortune are good pirates who only steal treasure that's not culturally significant. Theyve clearly read the modern critiques of the British Museum and have decided to explicitly stop anyone levelling similar critiques at them. There is no faction of the Lords of Fortune who aren't like this, no internal arguments about it. Everyone just. Agrees. And is able to accurately tell what a cultural artifact is vs. what treasure that you can have yourself is. Rather than showing us why a pirate stealing cultural artifacts might be bad (like in da2 where such a situation literally causes a coup and a war) it just tells us it's bad. But also pirates are cool so we still want them in our world.

This issue seaps into Thedas and drains it of any of the interesting complexity and ability to SAY anything that this franchise had before this game. It becomes a game about telling and not showing rather than the other way around. The games have ALWAYS asked questions about oppressive structural systems and their interplay with society, religion and culture and how these things can affect even the most well meaning character. Dragon age at its best IS a game about society and how society functions both for and against it's characters and what happens to societies built on cruelty and indifference. The best bad guys dragon age has given us are those who are bad because they embody these systems or have been shaped by them. Our main characters have had to wrestle with questions surrounding how to exist in these systems, fight against them, learn and grow.

Yet every group you come across in DATV is sanitised and cleaned up to the point of being as non problematic as humanly possible. None of our cast of characters have to wrestle with where they came from or the world that shaped them. None of them have to confront their own biases. They start the game perfectly non-problematic and end it that way too.

And this just...isn't what Dragon Age has been in the past. It isn't why I love the franchise. The whole game just felt, in a way, hollow. And this was a CHOICE and it is why the legacy characters are few and far between. Too many dragon age characters are just too...angry and complex for this game. You can feel them pulling their punches on this one. I have to imagine they did this because they didn't want to be criticised or have too much controversy? But I think it honestly goes far too much in the other direction and just makes it bland.

I can't imagine what I say here will be unique, but it is the basis for a LOT of my other thoughts on this game so I wanted to get it out of the way first. The softened Thedas and characters make this game by far the weakest in the franchise.

[shewrites444]

pretty [ art donaldson x babysitter/age gap! reader smut ]

[ Hiii me popping up on here for the first time in forever lmao. I've been on a Challengers kick lately, let me know if I should write more on Art perhaps. :D ]

WC - 3.5k (unedited story, so apologies for any errors)

[ Summary - The reader and Art have been having an affair for the past few months after she became the Donaldsons' occasional babysitter. A lot of porn with a slight plot. ]

[ Warnings - Age gap (reader is college-aged, art is in his like mid-thirties), cursing, cheating/affair, oral (m&f receiving), dirty talk, tiny breeding kink mention, unprotected sex ]

-

It's not like it mattered to Tashi, well, anymore, what her husband did in his free time. A year or so ago, when Art found out about Tashi and Patrick's on-going affair at their challenger, he felt crushed, defeated, sickened, all emotions jumbled into one component, knowing what his wife was doing behind closed doors since they were teenagers. No amount of "I love you's" could make her drawn closer to him, no amount of care, compassion.. nothing. I mean, it would only make sense that an affair that lasted over ten years, especially with his former best friend and teammate, would fundamentally fuck up their marriage.

Tashi tried to fix it, she really did, by cutting off all connections to Patrick, promising Art she'd be better for not only him, but their daughter, Lily, and the careers and finances they shared together. She knew all the logic behind an affair was unjustifiable, and it made sense to fix a marriage with someone who genuinely cared for her and the family, careers, and finances they created together.

Art stopped playing tennis that year, and like they had promised each other months before, decided to work on the foundation full time, and with newer responsibilities, came the need for a sitter that wasn't only one of their parents when Art had a game or two.

That's where you came into the picture.

You were an undergraduate student at NYU, about to graduate in the spring with a heavy need for any sort of finances to help you afford your rent the rest of the semester. Knowing that your niece was in class with Art and Tashi Donaldson's daughter, that set up a fairly easy connection to a potential babysitting gig. They were millionaires, hell, maybe even billionaires at this point, so you'd be bound to get a pretty solid paycheck.

You were in luck. They needed an occasional sitter on the weekends, and a handful of nights during the week, and given that they both knew your sister, you were already trusted. Easy money.

You got along with Lily pretty well, too. Not to mention the Donaldsons were kind to you as well, and the amount of money they gave you for watching their one daughter, who was pretty self-sufficient other than needing to have a bedtime story or two read to her each night, was fucking ridiculous. Not like you were rolling in dough, but they surely overpaid you. Not like that was a problem for either parties, though.

Overtime, you talked more to Art when Tashi was starting to have more meetings, interviews, and other miscellaneous tasks that required her attention as they expanded connections to the foundation. At first, it was a bit awkward, given that when babysitting, usually the dad was a bit more absent, or quiet, but he warmed up to you after a few nights. He'd ask you about how Lily was, even ask you about school, or what you wanted to do after graduation, pay you, and that was really it. It was simple, really, until it wasn't.

And here you were, months later, standing at the small kitchen island in your apartment, which was, frankly, a bit inhumane in size for an inhabitant, but it's New York City, and it's what you could afford, even on the Donaldson's payroll. You had a small salad bowl in front of you, sliding the grape tomatoes off the cutting board in your hand into the mixture, as no other than Art Donaldson stood next to you, the tongs in his hand as you handed him the bowl.

Playing house with a married 35-year-old man wasn't on your list of things to do this year, but it's not like you were complaining.

From an outside perspective, it felt wrong, but to you, it felt just right. It was cliche, and well, bad, being apart of an affair for a multi-millionaire last name, and a man that was married, with a whole family, but you tried not to think about it.

Did you love him? You had never been in love, so you didn't really know, but probably not, at least not yet. Did he love you? You didn't think so, but he definitely favored you more than his own wife, and you weren't even thinking that because of the situation, you genuinely knew he preferred you.

"You want me to put a show on?" Art asked softly, glancing down at you as you walked over to the kitchen, rinsing off the cutting board. His eyes averted to your ass, glancing at the sweat shorts that hugged your figure, before looking up to meet your eyes when you turned around.

You knew he checked you out, it's not like that came to a surprise. Art was sweet, really, but it's not like he wasn't a sexual man because he was older. If anything, that made his sex drive higher. You shrugged, sliding past him to open the fridge and grab the salad dressing. "Eh, I'm good with whatever."

You can hear him set the bowl down, and his free hand travel to the side of your waist, over the thick cotton of your sweatshirt, as you grin to yourself, shaking your head while you set the dressing on the counter. "Shouldn't we eat first?"

"Just missed you today." Art muttered, lightly turning you around to face him before giving your forehead a light peck. "Haven't seen you all week, pretty."

Your cheeks redden, and the familiar pit in your stomach follows directly after. Fuck. Art was older than you, yes, but an emotional man at the fact of it, but he was so fucking needy. He'd come see you, not even two or three days between, and act like it had been two months without contact. He'd lay his head on your chest, play with your fingers, tell you how much he missed you, all because you hadn't seen him in not even a week. From the outside, that probably looked pathetic, a married man, who had a wife and child at home, coming to a college-aged girl's apartment, not even the size of his bedroom, cuddling her like he was a teenager. It was fucking toxic, actually, but again, you tried not to think about that part of it.

"Well, why don't we eat, and then you can show me that you missed me later, hm? That okay?" You step back slightly to look up to him, reaching forward to cup his rose-tinted, pale cheeks. You lean up to kiss him, pulling away to slide out of his embrace, your eyes following the meal you had just made together.

Art was pouting, basically, as he frowned at the corner of his mouth, walking towards the other side of you and gently taking the tongs out of your hand. "I'd rather show you now. You can't tell me you don't want me to fuck you right here, sweetheart."

"Art." You purse your lips together, shooting him a glare. You could pretend to be annoyed all you want, but he knew you weren't aggravated with him. It's not like you didn't enjoy him fucking the shit out of you on your kitchen counter, or anywhere, matter of fact. He'd fuck you right in your car when he walked you out of his house after babysitting, he didn't give a fuck. He liked you a lot, way more than he should, even in the given scenario of an affair.

"What?" He tilted his head, looking down at you with that stupid cheeky-ass grin he'd always give you when he knew you were fibbing. You wanted him, obviously. Sometimes, he didn't know why you even pretended to act like you didn't want it right then and there.

Art really wasn't even the most dominating guy, but if that's what you wanted, he'd put on a fucking show. He'd bend you over and fuck the shit out of you if that's what you wanted him to do. He'd make it hurt, if that's what you wanted him to do. But again, he liked you, so he'd never actually hurt you.

You glance down between you, the obviously erection in his sweatpants pointing right at you. You look back up to him, that look of pure want on his face so obvious. You glance to your bedroom. You don't have to speak, he already knows, and he listens so fucking easily.

The chemistry between the two of you was a fucking pain sometimes. You'd be so wet when he'd do as much as touch your back, it would piss you off sometimes, and you would think that after fucking him for a few months now, that feeling of freshness would go away, but it didn't.

You'd do more than just fuck, too. If he wasn't such a public figure, he'd take you out on real date, probably try to pursue you in some way if he wasn't married, and just a more normal-status guy, but that wasn't the case. He would make efforts though, buy you flowers sometimes when he'd come over, order the two of you something to eat, whether it was Chinese takeout or a 5-star review restaurant steak, he didn't care. He just wanted to please you, the best he could. All the time.

Right now, his definition of pleasing you was gesturing for you to lay down on your twin-sized bed, and plant his face between your legs, eating your pussy until you were begging him to fuck you with something other than his tongue.

You wiggled yourself out of your shorts and underwear in one, Art assisting you by pulling them off your ankles and onto the wooden floor. He spread your knees apart, kneeling on the hard ground before his hot breath was planting kisses between your thighs, his eyes never leaving yours.

You gulp, averting your attention to his mouth. You watch him get closer, and you can only gasp when he latches onto your clit. You feel him move his hand onto your thighs, wrapping around them from the back and holding your sides, his pale, calloused hands digging into your skin. It didn't hurt though, not at all.

"Oh my god." Leaves your mouth without a single thought. Art knew exactly how to please you. "Art, you're gonna make me cum before you even fuck me."

He looked up to you, lips still pressed against your pussy, his eyes locked with yours for a moment, before he focused his attention to your body again. He didn't care. Guess that was the point.

You shake your head in disbelief, your back naturally arching as he pressed his tongue harder against you. God, you couldn't even imagine what it was going to be like when his cock was inside you, even though you'd slept together plenty of times before.

His tongue kept pace on your clit, as he moved one of his hands off your thigh and closer to your pussy, gently pushing his middle finger through your folds. Fucking hell, as if he couldn't make you more turned on.

"Art." His name rolled off your tongue. "You're gonna make me cum. I wanna finish with you."

He listened to you, and he obliged, despite how much he wanted you to cum now. Art slowly pulled his finger out of you, and his mouth away from you. He leaned up, motioning himself on top of you, before you moved your hands to lightly push him off.

"What's wrong?" He asked, almost immediately, his eyes dropping, almost disappointed. You knew his cock was aching to be inside you.

You lean up, your hands traveling to rest against the sides of his broad shoulders. "Here. Lay down."

Art wasn't going to fight that. He eagerly nodded at your request, your positions switching in seconds as he laid down on your bed. Your hands began to pull at the waistband on his sweats, and his underwear, sliding them off his body in one.

You weren't one for sucking cock, but with Art, you fucking adored it. You liked to watch him fall apart at just your mouth, knowing that he'd crumble once he fucked your pussy. You liked edging him to the point he was whining, begging, pleading to fuck you, or you to fuck him. Just depended on the day.

"You gonna suck my cock, pretty girl?" Art asked you, softly, a half-smile on his pink lips as he moved one of his hands to cup your cheek, his elbow propping his body up slightly. "Gonna let me fuck your mouth?"

"Mhm." You murmur, nodding as you move down to spit on his cock, wetting the tip before you peck a few kisses against his tip, glancing up at him as you laid on your stomach towards the end of your bed, front of your body aligned with his middle. "Gonna let you fuck my throat, Art."

Art's grin followed the rest of his lips, his cheeks dark red as his mouth hung open. He watched you lean down, his cock enveloped by your mouth. You had pretty, plump lips. Pretty and full lashes you'd bat when he fucked your throat. He could watch you suck him off all day. He could just be with you all day.

"You're so beautiful, [Y/N]. My pretty girl." He praised you, his hand still glued to your cheek, bits of spit against his thumb as you bobbed your head, his cock hard and full in your mouth. "Gonna let me fill your mouth up, hm? Or should I fill your pussy instead? What do you want, baby?"

It's not like you could answer the question. You keep sucking him off, looking up to his blue eyes, before you force him down your throat, muffling any sort of gag that your body desperately wanted to let out. You wanted him to know you could take his cock.

"God." He moaned, his eyes never leaving yours. He rubbed your cheek. "Your mouth feel so good, but I really wanna fuck you. Please, baby. I wanna cum in you. That pretty pussy, please."

It didn't take you much convincing to slide his cock out of your mouth and lay down on your bed. It made you feel embarrassed, desperate even, with how eager you were to have him stuff his cock inside you. Not like he judged you for that at all, just internal thoughts you'd have occasionally.

He sat up, his cock hard and straight, as his knees dug into the mattress. He took his shirt off in one pull, tossing it into the pile of your combined clothes before he moved you more towards the middle of the bed. He aimed his cock at your pussy, your legs spread wide for him, before he leaned forward, slowly pushing himself inside you, the both of you moaning at the raw feeling.

Art could be rough if you wanted him to, and you'd do the same for him, but typically, he savored the moment he entered you each and every time. He'd told you several times, that you were no where near in comparison to any woman he'd been with. No competition. You were it. In every way. Part of him wished he had met you earlier, maybe at Stanford or even grade-school. God, he would've worshipped you back then, all the way to now, and the future. You checked off all his boxes, physically, emotionally, sexually, everything. In a different narrative, he would've married you and had a life with you. Fuck tennis. Fuck everything. He'd rather whatever life he could've had with you.

"You feel so good, pretty. You always do." Art leaned down to press a hard kiss against your lips. He pecked your cheek, his lips moving to your ear. "I'm gonna fill that pussy. Gonna make you mine, baby, my sweet girl.. You want that? You like that?"

You nod, your mouth open as you moan, rather loudly as he picked his pace up the more he talked to you. "Y-Yes, baby, fuck yes, fill me up. You're so fucking sexy.. You fuck me so good, Art."

Art groaned at your response, moving his head back to align above yours, his overgrown curls bouncing with his movements, the bed squeaking underneath you. He'd let his hair grow out a bit more lately since you complemented it awhile back.

"Gonna fill this pussy, pretty girl. Gonna give you my cum." He muttered, almost to himself, as he looked between your bodies at what he could see, watching himself fill your hole. It was obvious you were fucking a former pro-athlete. He could fuck you for hours if he wanted to with the amount of stamina he had, regardless of his age. It was fucking hot, how much, and how long, he could fuck you.

You could feel your orgasm increasing the more he penetrated you, the more he pulled his cock nearly out of you and forcing it back inside you, sending jolts through your body. You were already overstimulated enough from just slower sex, him fucking you like a bunny was almost too much for you to take. Not like that was a bad thing though.

"Come on." You talk to him, watching between the two of you, too. "Make me cum, baby. I wanna finish with you, Art. Please, baby. Fuck me so good."

He nods, his body rocking against yours, your legs moving up to wrap around his hips, keeping him closer, and more inside you. You wanted him to fill all of you, not missing a drop of his cum. You wanted him to make you ache when you woke up tomorrow morning.

"Fuck." He groaned, moaning into your mouth as he kissed you, his tongue sliding against yours as he came inside you.

You felt your body jolt, finishing at the same time, as he filled your pussy up. It felt so good to be on the same level, the same energy, as him. So fucking good.

He gave it a few seconds before he pulled out of you, sitting back up, making sure he fucked your right. He rolled to the side before he pulled you closer to him, his hand running through your frizzy hair, kissing the side of your forehead.

You smirked, looking up to him, a small laugh leaving your lips. "What? You can't be shocked, we've had sex so many times I can't even count it at this point."

"I'm not shocked." Art laughed, playing with your hair as he looked up to the ceiling. "It just feels so different with you. You know how much I like you, [Y/N]. Just feels good is all."

"Hm." You watch him look up. You wanted to bring something else up, more emotional topics, but, as much as you knew he did fancy you, you didn't want to fuck up the moment. "Feels good to me, too." Is all you say in return.

Art looks down at you after a moment. "Yeah?" He grins, moving closer to you as he kisses your lips. "Good."

"Yeah." You return his kiss, slightly leaning up as you look to the door. "You wanna eat now? Got your energy out?"

Art shrugs, sitting up. He pecks your bare shoulder. "Maybe not. Maybe can let the rest of it out later."

"God, you're hornier than me." You scoff, pushing him off with a red face, laughing to yourself at the man before you. "Let's eat. I'm starving."

"Whatever you say." He smirks, clearly teasing you, before stepping out of the bed, grabbing his clothes and tossing yours to you.

And that was what was odd about you and Art. It was casual, but not in a hookup sense. Casual in the way that you could sit down and eat with him, make a meal with him, watch shows and movies together, like a normal couple. It drove you insane sometimes. He felt the same way, but how the hell could he tell you that, when he could never actually be with you? He'd have to mask it some type of way, and usually that was through sex. Not like he didn't enjoy it solely for sexual reasons, because, god, he enjoyed fucking you, but he also enjoyed you.

He watched you finish your plate as you sat on the sofa together. You were gorgeous, the perfect picture of the woman he'd want to be with for more than just this. But that was something you'd have to figure out later.

[ancientnapdragon]

I think that trying to expand on or explore Yue Qingyuan's or Shen Jiu's parents could be really fun. Espeeeecially SJ. Like why were these two poor kids thrown in the dirt?

Like yeah I know tragedy and storytelling and blah blah blah but lemme just squish them.

Anyway so I had another random idea, feel free to use as always, involving our special boy Shen Yuan. Basically he is a half demon (what flavor is up to you, but I was specifically imagining some type of bug 🐛). He is this very pretty little thing who lives in the demon realm with his Cultivator mom, except they're both like basically kept/imprisoned in this Demon Lord's compound.

His mom always told him about how she used to be in love with this other Cultivator and they had another son together. But shortly after he was born the Demon Lord like killed the dad, stole the mom, and threw the baby in a ditch. She's a real peerless beauty type. SY has always mourned for his older brother he never met and for how much his mom hates it here, even if she's done everything in her power to love him and teach him cultivation.

SY is also a super pretty boy and he's like? 11 or 12 or so? And his dad decides that since he's kinda useless otherwise he's gunna marry SY off. His mom helps him escape before that can happen and he swears to get enough power to free her someday.

Cue like a big chase but he makes it out of the Demon Realm and into the Human Realm. By complete coincidence he ends up running into like 9 y/o Binghe while his mom is super sick. Even the he can't do much he uses some of his demon powers and like heals her! But she's still really weak. And helps take care of SY for a bit before he encourages the two of them to go to CMS to be Cultivators. (She doesn't know that SY is a half demon, neither does LBH.)

They leave together and SY like admits that he wish he could save HIS mom and gives LBH a censored (of the demon stuff) version of his own mom's story. LBH promises to get super strong someday so he can help SY rescue her and SY is touched.

Anyway they do the hole digging and there is one set of eyes like LOCKED on SY the whole time. SQQ can see that FOOL making sopping eyes at the dirty little kid who looks like a younger version of himself. Before YQY can pick him, SQQ does and is so mad he like leaves the rest of the selection.

(LBH Still gets chosen! By YQY!)

Cue a lot of SQQ being a dick but over time like weirdly protective of the sassy, spitfire kid who is his little clone. SY is glad he saved LBH from a future of torment at SQQ's hands even if he brought it on himself instead. And SQQ over time is kinda... well, not nice. But he's not as bad as PIDW always talked about. Too bad he can't focus on that AS much when he's trying to keep his demon parts hidden!!

Eventually, like after SY has been there a few years, SQQ would find out the story about SY's missing older brother. And even tho he's probably been convinced it's just a passing resemblance, alarm bells start going off in his head. Some Airplane Flavored Bullshit would happen and would reveal the two of them are actually related by blood, too.

SQQ demanding to know what happened to their mother (since he knows his dad's fate :( ) and SY reluctantly telling him. OG Story just off the rails at this point. LBH is like 17 and has become YQY's head disciple and is living his best life with his depressed Shizun.

Not really sure where it would go from there tbh. But SY/SJ's mom would be rescued and I think she deserves to be in lesbians with LBH's mom. As a treat. Maybe they could do some shit with TLJ some the plot is so bad cause the demon lord was the one who half took his place after TLJ was sealed? Like, enemy of my enemy is my friend kinda shit to take out the demon lord properly. Ideal is we somehow bring back SYX and then the 4 parents form like a polycule. Big "Gee, TLJ! How come the author lets you have THREE hot wives??" Energy.

Anyway happy mother's day

[ennn]

Agatha x Rio Fic Rec Master List

Everyone has their own fic preferences. My personal recommended picks here, AUs included, that generally check off these boxes:

Balanced power dynamic i.e. no sugar baby fantasies here, no dependencies, they give as good as they get

Some plot i.e. no pure smut fics here, though some have them bangin' quite a bit

Characterisation i.e. ideally cunt4cunt freak4freak, although some AUs have them a lot softer than canon but I can roll with it if the power dynamic holds

Last updated: 13 Mar '25.

Now, in no order of merit:

Go enjoy all their works, they've written a bunch of stuff. Here are just highlights:

@thiswildernessismyhome

allow my love to find her brutal way to me

[ 9k words | one-shot ] An angsty time loop fic that gets these characters so right and will punch you right in the feels. Maybe more than once.

memory that presses like a blade against her throat

[ 4.3k words | one-shot ] Pain and sweet pathos with spot-on banter. Explores Agatha’s trauma from her mom. Rio gets protective, cute, and vengeful.

yeahitshowed

real hot ghoul shit

[ 15.4k words | multi-chapter | series ] Set post-AAA. It's wacky, it's angsty, it's great. Agatha and Rio attempt to work out their shit. Billy is trying his best. Now with a whole ghoulniverse of sequels.

sometimes i still feel the bruise

[ 3.2k words | one-shot ] Agatha is not taking her first Pride very well. It’s all the trauma. A fantastic exploration of the character with all her edges and soft underbelly.

@paddingtonfan69

now I understand, and it’s time to leave the woods

[ 15.9k words | multi-chapter | series ] One of the best backstory fic for these two that absolutely nails their dynamic. Angsty and silly and horny as you'd expect with these two.

someday we will all be lying on our backs (free at last from income tax) 

[ 13.1k words | multi-chapter | series ] The gold standard for fandom AUs. The bad boy of the IRS meets infamous tax evader Agatha Harkness.

@alilbitgaywrites

you wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me

[ 4.4k words | first of a series ] Death has a cabin in Delaware. The first of a relatively chill (for them) canon-divergent series where these two clash, banter, and begin to heal.

you'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you

[ 32k words | multi-chapter ] Expands upon canon (so expect glorious angst) and maybe fixes it a little. Agatha and Rio through the years and into the show.

Naturally if you like a fic, check out the author's other works

because i could not stop for death (she kindly stopped for me) – by @she-s-a-shy-one

[ 70k words | multi-chapter | series ] The historical epic fic. Takes on Agathario's messed up backstory through many different eras and disasters. Hope you like history! Oof, that's a lot of collateral damage, Agatha.

A Graveyard Hated by the Moon – by @viceroy-bubblesmutini

[ 5.5k words | first of a series ] Can't get enough murderous historical escapades with these two? Here's more of this terrible pair causing problems.

blood, sweat & tears – by clarkestrife

[ 20.1k words | multi-chapter | wip ] They meet for the first time after Nicky's death. Let's just say Agatha doesn't deal with it well and has a mean left hook. Heavy on the hurt and angst.

wicked thing, carved into my heart – by @coffeeshib

[ 23.9k words | 2 chapters ] Post canon, the exes fight and fuck. It's sexy, violent, mean and angsty. It's very on-point characterisation, what can I say.

A Wretched Soul – by @motherconfessors

[ 31k words | multi-chapter | wip ] Ep 8 divergent. Agatha makes a new deal with Rio so she can get her purple back. A story of grief, healing, a lot of sex and... amazing food?

All and then Most of you, Some and now None of you – by @momentary-ecstasy

[ 34.5k words | multi-chapter ] Post-canon. Agatha succeeds at taking Death's powers. Rio wakes up with no memories. Captivating plot, lots of death, sex with strings attached, and a coven reunited. It's never simple with these two.

For You To Be Still – by @momentary-ecstasy

[ 27.4k words | multi-chapter ] To save Rio from the Snap's fallout, Agatha binds them together. A plotty, fascinating adventure also featuring the coven and the two dealing with their past.

coven of chaos – by @trickofthelights

[ 38.4k words | multi-chapter | wip ] Rio/Agatha/Wanda and their very weird found family. Crack taken seriously and written exquisitely well with thoughtful character explorations. It's fun and epic with great banter. Everyone lives!

you’ll sanctify me when i’m dead  – by @majorlysapphic

[ 26.3k words | multi-chapter | wip ] Rio has Hanahaki Disease and has to work with Agatha while hiding her plan to retire permanently. These two idiots, etc.

a hundred miles through the desert repenting – by @sapphoshands

[ 3.9k words | one-shot ] Perhaps my favourite ep 5 fix-it. Pain and pathos lovingly written.

Rabbit Heart – by @sapphoshands

[ 4.8k words | multi-chapter ] Post-finale scenes featuring our favourite Señor Scratchy, including a satisfying follow-up for our ship.

how the dead walk – by obsetress

[ 7.2k words | one-shot ] Post canon, these two talk and work out the logistics (and emotions) behind ghost sex.

meet you where the spirit meets the bones – by daniandjamie

[ 13.5k words | multi-chapter ] I know turbo virgin!Rio isn't for everyone. But if you enjoy it, this one's real cute and funny and an interesting take on how Death gets a body.

better in the dark – by @seabiscuits-us

[ 12.8k words | one-shot ] More turbo virgin!Rio trying to figure this shit out while Agatha enjoys the process. It's cute times before the inevitable heartbreak.

For the Love of Spring – by FleetingFriend

[ 10k words | one shot ] Post-AAA story. Rio turns into an onion, Agatha takes the opportunity to remember and grieve and heal. Maybe grab those tissues for the end.

As with many AUs, expect softer takes for these two unless the fic has y'know, killing and violence. Again, in no order:

Put Your Fangs In Me – by villhag

[ 73.9k words | multi-chapter | series | wip ] The other gold standard in AUs. Two vampire best friends with a lot of history are more than what they seem. What starts off like a rom com with casual murder reveals itself to be a heartbreaking love story spanning centuries.

honey come put your lips on mine (and shut me up) – by tinyteamug

[ 40.4k words | multi-chapter | wip ] Retired hockey pro-turned-publicist Agatha is tasked with managing feral hotshot hockey player Rio. A hilarious time with these two driving each other nuts in the best way.

primal night – by Palmarion

[ 13.2k words | multi-chapter ] Rio is another version of Death, Agatha is human and they meet one Halloween night at Rio’s bar. Nicky happens unexpectedly. A comforting romantic story.

all my might – by goofball46

[ 15.6k words | multi-chapter | wip ] After breaking up 10 years ago, the two have to pretend to be a couple (again) to help Agatha's political campaign. We do love our angst and unresolved drama. They're so bad at communicating.

To Hate Her is to Love Her – by @justasimplelesbiansfanfic

[ 166k words | multi-chapter | series ] Agatha gets her estranged wife Rio to pretend they’re still together for the holidays. A long, angsty slow burn with plot involving crime and the FBI, and these two figuring their issues out.

spite, grudges, and other underrated methods of processing your feelings – by @littledata

[ 10k words | one-shot ] If working for her ex (who sent her to jail) wasn’t enough, Rio’s been hired to kill her. All's fair in politics? It’s a fun ride.

How to not keep a secret – by disaster_top

[ 102k words | multi-chapter ] See I can recommend domestic Agathario playing house with Nicky. Rio loves her knives. A series of interconnected one-shots where they deal with different stuff. FBI Agent Rio and Detective Agatha (not Agnes).

queens of killing (we're out for blood) – by @succulentlesbians

[ 64.9k words | multi-chapter | wip ] Winter Soldier/Red Room AU. Plotty, dramatic, secret agent action. Plenty of angst when one was programmed to kill their own kid. Plus, coven team-bonding.

all half things – by @seabiscuits-us

[ 20.2k words | multi-chapter ] High school soccer coach Rio tries her best to make sure her super-pregnant teacher colleague Agatha doesn't go into labour while they try to save the school theatre department. It's charming and quirky with a side of drama.

this machine's a backward thinker – by @slowedshow

[ 35.7k words | multi-chapter | wip ] Lawyer Agatha, Doctor Rio AU. When Agatha decides to help her deceased client's son find his lost brother she didn't expect to find her way back to love and forgiveness. Brilliant parallels within this story and the show canon punched me hard in the feels.

my safeword is safeword – by @anonfandombandit

[ 63.3k words | multi-chapter | wip ] The uh BDSM AU. It's wild, it's hilarious, it's uh very educational if you're unfamiliar with the scene? Agatha's insane and working off some bad trauma, Rio's desperately trying her best to remain professional. Naturally lots of kinky sex.

· · ────────── 𖥸 ────────── · ·

♥ to the fabulous authors giving us these stories

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Dear Raven, do you have any opinion on the Tangled event in terms of it’s “story”? Cause I personally feel that it was rather underwhelming…

I have a lot of thoughts about Wish Lantern, so I'd be more than happy to expand on those here. First of all, I think a lot of us were underwhelmed by this event because we went in with a certain set of expectations. We thought this would be THE Riddle event and hyped ourselves up about how this would further his character development. And technically, the event did do that--even if said development was only relevant for parts 2-7 to 2-13, and the final part, 2-18. I think we just weren't fans of the execution. Rarely are story events contained mostly in a single room--but Wish Lantern was. Rarely are modern Twst story events a mere two episodes long--but Wish Lantern was. Rarely do story events call for characters to just stand around and reenact the exact same things the Disney characters did--but in Wish Lantern, they do. It was just a storm of blandness when I think we were wanting and expecting to explore a new place, and more in-depth exploration of Riddle's complicated relationship with his mother, especially considering we got Wish Lantern right off the tail end of his book 7 dream in the JP server. But we didn't get that, so many people ended up disappointed.

Now, how do I feel about it? Well...

I think I get what they were going for by cramming everyone into the library. The devs were probably trying to show us how claustrophobic and suffocating it is to be trapped inside and stripped of your freedom. They wanted us to feel the same way that Rapunzel did up in her tower, and they did it all without telling us to our faces "doesn't it suck, don't you feel awful about this?" But the problem with this setting is that it also makes for a dull story, especially when you combine it with the fact that Riddle and the others come to the stunningly stupid conclusion that they HAVE to live out the same life the Princess in the Tower did to get out.

We never got an explanation as to why this chain of events was even set off by the lantern to begin with. As a writer myself, this really bothers me :/

We got NRC library lore, but it was not that interesting because this could have been easily guessed, given the age and elite status of the school.

One bit of new lore I thought was very interesting was Jack saying that only a handful of mages are authorized to move humans using magic + there are restrictions on this kind of magic. This fleshes out the magic system of Twst and the laws around its use.

I found it silly that Riddle was the one to suggest that they pretend to be princesses and that this is what would help solve their problem. That's so nonsensical and such a huge leap of logic, I expected it of KALIM, not Riddle. (Maybe you could argue that Riddle has a desire to let his inner child out, but I do not see current day Riddle so overtly expressing that; he has shown time and time again he is uncomfortable going outside the bounds his mother laid for him, and that includes acting in traditionally immature ways.) And not only that, but why did they all insist and automatically invest so much in being princesses, and continue to dig into details about the Princess in the Tower's life, truly believing that reenacting it would get them out of this bind??? I know it's for plot convenience, but it was so contrived. They literally had no proof this would work yet kept acting in ways that implied they genuinely believed it would work. Why wouldn't they just believe "okay, this isn't working" after changing into their new clothes, makeup, and hairdos and try something else? No, instead they just fully dedicated themselves to this reenactment strategy after questioning their assumption maybe once or twice.

The Princess in the Tower is even a FAIRY TALE in the world of Twisted Wonderland. It's not actually a part of their history. The characters point out (at multiple points in the event) how silly the fairy tale is or how little sense it makes. So... that gives them even less reason to believe in reenacting it as their solution.

Shoutout to the part where Jack talks about how tight his shirt is in the chest area (boobs too big, lol) and how he had to alter it to be more comfortable for him...

There were strange parts where the event was like a... poorly written locked room mystery? In a good mystery, the reader is handed all the clues to come to their own conclusions. In a bad mystery, important details are not given to the reader, so there is no feasible way for them to come to their own conclusions until the story tells them that missing crucial information. This happens a few times, with Ace handing Riddle "something he'll need" (which turns out to be a frying pan), Riddle "taking a long time" to jump out of the window (because he was contacting Silver to tell him to bring Vorpal), and Vargas giving them climbing rope (to aid in their escape). We only anticipate these things to occur if you're familiar with Tangled already. If you haven't seen it, you would have NO IDEA what is going to happen with these scenes.

I liked that every NRC character, including staff, got their five minutes in the spotlight. We don't often get events like this, so I appreciate them when they do happen.

Mom!Jamil was so very prominent this event 💀

Jade killed me when he showed up wearing THAT STUPID VARGAS CAMP MONSTER MASK THING.

... Remember what I said earlier about how it's confusing how Riddle, Jack, Deuce, and Kalim are throwing literally their ALL into these hobbies??? Well. Leona comes in and tells them it's inefficient to do that. Why are they trying to play an entire game of chess when moving a single piece is enough to constitute fulfilling the (supposed) requirements? If they were so worried about the time crunch, they should have been more economical with their time and spent the minimum amount on every activity, not spend hours trying to do each one. AGAIN, I HAVE TO GIVE IT TO KINGSCHOLAR... HE IS CORRECT. Of all the characters, I can only really see Riddle being anal about doing everything perfectly, but the other three could easily coast by on the bare minimum.

This is a bit of my book 7 salt spilling over into this event, but I kept having this nagging thought that Riddle and co. (+ Crowley) seem VERY concerned with escaping the library before it rolls over to the next day. Like... I understand why they're worried--but they oddly do not demonstrate this same level of urgency for most of the dream hopping in book 7 even though the stakes are much higher there. It doesn't make sense to me...

The devs got creative with the framing of this event; there was the diagonal slice and then showing two characters in two different locations speaking, as well as the Jamils low fade in + vanish.

The new music tracks were nice; one emulated the Kingdom Dance, and the other was a combination of the instrumentation of When Will My Life Begin and At Last I See The Light, which I appreciated.

The rhythmics/twistunes were cute. Nothing else to add.

I did like the character development we actually got for Riddle—I just wish it came attached to a better event and was executed better. His development is sort of poorly spaced out (especially when compared to Deuce in White Rabbit Fest), the event itself is short, and Riddle doesn’t even bring up his mom until 2-13… when the last part is 2-18.

I still felt that the parallels between Rapunzel and Riddle were sufficiently conveyed; it just requires reading between the lines.

I loved that they made a point to mention that the Princess didn’t know she was kidnapped by a witch because the witch provided all that she could ever want in her tower. Delicious food and lots of things to do… why would she ever go against someone that provided these amenities for her? It is similar to the mindset many abused children have—simply because an abusive guardian provides for them, children are compelled to give them grace and feel guilty about disobeying. These kids don’t realize they are “kidnapped” (under the abusive guardian’s thumb). The same goes for Riddle.

When I think about it… the window is an important symbol for Riddle. The manga more explicitly shows us that Trey and Chenya knocked on Riddle’s window to get his attention. It’s also through the window that Riddle escapes to go play with them. Now, again, a window is his escape, and, learning from past experience, he hesitates to take that route even though it is so easily accessible. I've decided... Never again. Almost made me gasp out loud, honestly. This was the part I expected from the start, and Twst actually delivered.

Another point I feel is very important is how Riddle consistently brings up the rules as a means of depriving himself of basic things like food (because you cannot eat in the library). The others have the be the ones to convince him to take better care of himself. He even has trouble jumping from the window too—and this is the same as Rapunzel. It’s not that they cannot leave the tower. They can leave anytime they like—but they trap themselves in it, psychologically speaking, due to how they’ve been isolated and controlled. That takes real strength and willpower to overcome.

It’s great that Jack, Deuce, and Kalim support Riddle through this tough decision-making, even if they’re blunt about it. (Sometimes bluntness is what he needs to really snap into action!!) “I don’t want to see you turning into a loser that uses the rules as an excuse to not act.”, “Are you planning on staying there forever?” etc.

The ending nicely wraps up Riddle’s little arc. He connects the dots that both he and Rapunzel broke the promises made to their mothers—but it was worth it to see this amazing sight, wasn’t it?

I happen to have my own Wish Lantern rewrite if you're interested in an alternate version of the event. As it currently is, it's okay to pretty good in the Riddle development scenes alone and has some cute interactions, but everything else surrounding that is pretty bleh.

[baekhyunsbestie]

── ❝ CHILL BABY ❞ 🪩🥂 ̟!!

⟢ a continuation of this :') switched up on the setting but the plot’s still p much the same hehe <333

જ⁀➴°⋆ content: 18+/MDNI. 19.3k+ words. baekhyun x f!reader. jongin x f!reader. mentions of other exos. jealous!baekhyun. corporate!au. enemies to lovers. fake dating. one bed. ⟡ fluff & smut ⟡ alcohol consumption, explicit language, pet names, praise kink, body worship, oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex, p in v, creampie ⟡ 

you step into minseok’s pristine office, already feeling the weight of impending doom. the polished chrome desk, minimalist decor, and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking manhattan scream authority. unfortunately, the man sitting behind the desk—a seasoned negotiator with a no-nonsense attitude—screams something else: stress.

minseok gestures for you to sit, and your stomach drops when you see baekhyun already lounging in the chair across from him. he’s got that laid-back, insufferably confident posture, as if he owns the whole damn office. his tie is casually loosened, jacket tossed over the back of the chair like he’s at a bar instead of a meeting. he twirls a pen between his fingers with a carefree smirk, completely at ease as though this were some casual hangout, not an important work discussion.

your blood boils a little as you can’t help but notice how good he looks. it's infuriating—he looks effortlessly sharp in that tailored suit, the kind of guy who knows exactly how to make everything he wears look like it was meant for him. but it only adds to how much you hate him. everything about him rubs you the wrong way, especially when he knows exactly how to push your buttons without even trying.

“perfect timing,” minseok says, glancing between the two of you. “i’m glad you’re both here.”

you sit down reluctantly, throwing baekhyun a pointed glare. he meets your eyes, his slow, cocky grin widening in response. 

“as you're both aware,” minseok begins, his tone serious, “our company, inb100, is on the verge of finalizing a crucial merger with kim corp. this partnership has the potential to redefine our future, expanding our reach and solidifying our position in the global market. the board is counting on us to ensure this merger goes off without a hitch. we need a strong, unified front to manage every detail and make sure everything aligns perfectly. that's where the two of you come in.”

“us two?” you repeat, narrowing your eyes in disbelief, the words tasting as bitter as they sound.

minseok nods, his expression calm, though the weight of his words lingers heavily in the room. “yes, you’ve consistently proven yourself to be one of our sharpest,” he says, his tone steady. then, shifting his attention to baekhyun, he continues, “and baekhyun, your financial analysis throughout this merger has been exceptional. as heads of your respective departments, it’s logical to assign you two to spearhead this project together.”

“exceptional,” baekhyun repeats, leaning back in his chair with a grin that’s equal parts smug and infuriating. he lets the word hang in the air like a trophy. then, with an exaggerated sweetness, he shifts his gaze to you. “you hear that, sweetheart? i’m exceptional.”

you roll your eyes, the movement sharp enough to cut. “yeah, well, even a blind squirrel finds a nut every now and then.”

his laugh comes easily, warm and unbothered, which only fuels your irritation. “oh, so you’re admitting i’ve got something worth finding?” he teases, leaning forward just enough to make his smirk even more unbearable. “i’m flattered. really.”

you pointedly ignore his comment, pivoting back to minseok as you try to make sense of this ridiculous pairing. “i’m sorry,” you say slowly, your voice a mix of disbelief and barely restrained irritation. “us two? as in me and baekhyun?”

minseok lets out a long, exasperated sigh, briefly closing his eyes as though regretting every life choice that led to this moment. he pinches the bridge of his nose before answering, his tone clipped. “yes, as in you and baekhyun... unfortunately.”

your jaw drops, and before you can stop yourself, your voice rises. “oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

baekhyun sits up straighter, his smirk vanishing as he frowns. “the fuck you mean, ‘unfortunately’?” he interjects, indignant. “i’m a goddamn asset to this company.”

“an asset?” you snap, turning to him with a glare sharp enough to cut glass. “you’re a walking liability.”

“alright, look,” minseok snaps, cutting through your bickering like a knife. “this isn’t optional. you’re both going to work together, and you’re going to make this merger happen without killing each other—or giving me a migraine.”

the room falls silent, except for the sound of baekhyun clicking his pen with obnoxious precision. he glances at you, his smirk creeping back like clockwork. “well,” he says, voice dripping with mock sincerity, “looks like we’re stuck together, partner.”

you grit your teeth, wishing for nothing more than to wipe that smug look off his face. instead, you flash a tight smile and mutter under your breath, “yeah, lucky me.”

“stop,” minseok interjects. “i don’t have time for either of your antics. this is a very high-stakes deal, and you’ll need to work together professionally.”

you lean forward, gripping the edge of your seat. “sir, with all due respect, are you sure there’s no one else available that i can work with? someone with a shred of self-awareness, perhaps? hmm? maybe kyungsoo?”

baekhyun gasps mockingly, placing a hand over his chest. “wow, that’s the thanks i get for stepping in when you were about to miss your deadline for the ad campaign?”

you narrow your eyes at him. “missed? i wasn’t about to miss anything.”

he raises an eyebrow, smirking even more. “oh really? because i distinctly remember you practically pulling your hair out over that presentation. but, hey, no big deal. i was just the one who swooped in, fixed your last minute errors, and made sure everything got delivered on time.”

you roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “oh, please. fixed? more like rearranged everything i worked on just to make it fit your ‘vision.’”

baekhyun shrugs nonchalantly. “well, it worked, didn’t it? the client loved it. you’re welcome, sweetheart.”

minseok’s palm meets the desk with a resounding thud, the sharp sound cutting through the tension in the room like a knife. you and baekhyun both jolt in your seats, your bickering silenced mid-breath.

“enough!” minseok’s voice is sharp, commanding, and leaves no room for argument. his eyes dart between the two of you, his patience clearly worn thin. “you’re both flying to hawaii in four days to seal the deal with kim corp. i don’t care if you need to hold hands, build a sand replica of the empire state building, or host a group therapy session on the beach—figure it out and make it happen.”

“hawaii?!” you and baekhyun say in unison, though your tones couldn’t be more different. yours is filled with disbelief; his is downright gleeful.

“yes, hawaii. the big island,” minseok sighs, rubbing his temples, clearly done with the constant bickering between you and baekhyun. “baekhyun, handle all the travel arrangements and accommodations.”

“in four days?” you squeak, the shock clearly written across your face. “b-but tomorrow's christmas!”

“and if you're both efficient, maybe you'll wrap things up before new year's,” minseok adds dryly, his voice edged with impatience.

you can't help but groan, dragging your hands down your face in disbelief. “this—this is a joke, right? can’t it wait until after the holidays?”

minseok shakes his head, his expression firm. “afraid not. both our board members and kim corp. are pushing to have this done as quickly as possible.”

the room falls into a tense silence. you blink at him, unsure whether to be more insulted by the lecture or horrified at the prospect of spending a week in paradise with baekhyun. meanwhile, baekhyun—ever the instigator—leans back in his chair, a slow grin spreading across his face.

“‘hold hands’, huh?” baekhyun drawls, casting you a teasing sidelong glance. his lips curve into a smirk, clearly amused by the idea. “what do ya say, sweetheart? should we start now?” he extends his hand toward you, fingers wiggling as if he’s daring you to take it.

you shoot him a withering glare, your patience wearing thin. you slap his hand away with a swift, practiced motion, but he just chuckles, clearly enjoying every second of this.

minseok lets out a frustrated groan, rubbing his temples in exasperation, face twisted with a mix of annoyance and disbelief. “get the fuck out of my office. both of you. now.” 

as you storm out of minseok’s office, the sharp click of your heels echoing down the hallway, baekhyun effortlessly falls into step beside you. his hands are tucked casually into his pockets, and he’s whistling a jaunty tune that only fuels your irritation.

“looks like we’re going to be spending a lot of quality time together, sweets,” he says, his tone practically dripping with amusement.

you don’t even spare him a glance, your eyes locked on the corridor ahead. “oh, i know, right?” you say, layering your voice with a fake, perky enthusiasm, clapping your hands together as if you couldn’t be more thrilled. “finally!”

out of the corner of your eye, you catch baekhyun’s reaction—his smile widens, stretching farther than you’ve ever seen, and for a split second, there’s something vulnerable in it. it’s as if your little act has caught him off guard, and maybe, just maybe, it’s made him feel a little… touched.

you continue, “maybe we can even do one of those excursions while we’re there... like a boat tour around the island or something?”

baekhyun blinks, clearly thrown by the shift in your tone. his usual cocky demeanor falters for just a second, a hint of pink creeping up his neck. “r-really?” he stammers, his voice softer, less certain. he runs a hand through his hair, rubbing the back of his neck as he stumbles over his words. “i... i can look into it.”

your smile doesn’t falter. in fact, it only grows, but now there’s a mischievous glint in your eyes. “yeah! and maybe while we’re out there, i can push you off the boat and into the ocean. and maybe, just maybe, i’ll finally be free of you.”

you both come to an abrupt halt in the middle of the hallway, the tension between you palpable. baekhyun’s expression is a study in exaggerated betrayal—his jaw slack, eyes wide, and brows lifted as if you’ve just struck a fatal blow.

“ouch, sweetheart,” he says after a beat, his voice low and laced with wounded amusement. “you really had me going there.” he straightens with an air of mock dignity, brushing off your jab with a shrug that’s almost convincing.

but, of course, baekhyun can’t resist adding more. “even if you did push me off the boat,” he continues, a mischievous glint sparking in his dark eyes, “hate to break it to you, but i can swim.” he leans in slightly, his voice dropping conspiratorially as if sharing a secret. “word around the office, though, is that little miss head of the marketing department wouldn’t know what to do if she fell in.”

your brow arches sharply, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. crossing your arms over your chest, you fix him with a look so dry it could evaporate water. “we live in new york city, baekhyun. why the fuck would i ever need to know how to swim?”

there’s a brief pause before you tilt your head, the corner of your mouth twitching into something that barely resembles a smile. “congratulations, though,” you say, voice dripping with sarcasm. “does the head of the finance department expect a medal or something?”

the corner of baekhyun’s mouth twitches, just enough to give you a glimpse of that infuriating, signature smirk of his. it’s the kind of smile that makes your stomach do flips, even though you’d rather be annoyed by it. but there's something about it—something you can't quite place—that pulls you in.

“sure,” he drawls, his voice smooth as velvet as he leans in a little closer. his face lowers until it's dangerously close to yours, making your breath catch in your throat. “i’ll take any kind of medal, especially if it’s comin’ from you, sweetheart.”

the air between you both feels thick with tension, his proximity almost dizzying. you force yourself to stay composed, a rush of heat crawling up your neck. “careful what you wish for, baekhyun,” you warn, your voice sharp, but there's the faintest tremor in it that betrays your cool front. “i might just hit you across the head with it.”

he laughs then, a deep, rolling sound that vibrates through your chest, somehow managing to be both incredibly irritating and impossibly charming. the way it lingers in the air is so annoyingly contagious that you have to bite down hard on your bottom lip to stop yourself from smiling.

the week hadn’t even started yet, and already, you were plotting how best to drown him in the ocean. for real this time.

the plane touches down with a soft jolt, and you can't help but groan under your breath. another business trip, another round of dealing with baekhyun's antics. as the seatbelt sign flickers off, you push yourself out of your seat, eyes already narrowing at him when you catch sight of his casual posture as he stands up and stretches, completely unbothered. typical.

“are you always this annoying, or is it just me?” you mutter, moving past him in the aisle.

baekhyun grins like he’s too pleased with himself. “you’re the only woman on this earth who’s immune to my charm, sweetheart. so yeah, it’s just you.”

you roll your eyes and trudge toward the door, where he follows right behind you, humming his ridiculous tune like he doesn’t have a care in the world. the last thing you need is to spend a whole week in his company, but here you are, stuck with him—again.

when you step into the airport terminal, you let out a long sigh. your heels click against the smooth floor as you make your way toward baggage claim. you’re half-focused on the carousel when baekhyun sidles up beside you, that damn grin still plastered on his face.

“so, what’s the hotel you booked for us?” you ask, feigning innocence, but already bracing yourself for whatever ridiculous answer he’s about to give.

baekhyun raises an eyebrow, twirling his bag strap like he’s the most important person in the world. “oh, i found us the perfect place. a real gem.” he pauses for dramatic effect. “one-star motel, just for you, babe.”

you elbow him in the ribs with a sharp jab, the motion automatic. you can’t even look at him for too long without feeling your frustration grow. he chokes on a laugh, pretending to be hurt as he leans away from you, clutching his side.

“okay, okay,” he says through the laughter, “i was kidding. i got us the ritz. you deserve no less, right?”

your eyes narrow in disbelief. “the ritz? really? you?”

he gives you a sly look, the same irritating grin still there. “what? don’t act so surprised. i’ve got taste.”

you roll your eyes, letting out a dramatic sigh, before your attention is abruptly yanked away by a very familiar figure standing just a few feet away from the carousel. your heart sinks, the sight of him instantly clouding your thoughts. jongin. your ex. the one who shattered your heart last year. the last person you ever expected to run into here.

jongin’s gaze flickers over to you, and a smug smile curls at the corners of his lips. “well, well, well,” he says, his voice smooth, laced with that same confident edge you remember so well. “what are the odds, huh? i didn’t think i’d be bumping into you of all people.”

your breath catches in your throat, and you can’t stop the small ache that forms in your chest, the memories flooding back despite your best efforts to push them down. he steps closer, his eyes scanning you, like he’s inspecting every inch of you as if he’s trying to figure out how you’ve changed. or maybe how he hasn’t.

“jongin?” you whisper, the name slipping from your lips in disbelief.

he quirks an eyebrow, a slight frown pulling at his features. “‘jongin?’” he repeats, his voice laced with surprise, “it was always ‘nini’ to you.”

you glance down at your feet, a sudden shyness washing over you. “it’s been a while,” you murmur, your voice barely above a breath.

“indeed, it has,” he replies, his gaze never leaving you, and this time it feels almost like heat. there’s a pause before he adds, his voice low, yet dripping with that familiar cocky edge, “you look... even better than i remember.” his grin curls up, just as self-assured as it always was.

you fight the urge to roll your eyes, though you can’t quite suppress the bitterness rising in your throat. you were fine without him, you remind yourself, but it’s hard to stay completely unaffected when he looks at you with that same damn smug expression.

“maybe fate’s decided we should reconnect. who knows what could come of it, right?” jongin continues, his voice teasing, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

before you can even think of a response, baekhyun steps in, his presence suddenly right at your side. without missing a beat, he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you close to him in a way that has you blinking up at him, completely thrown off by his sudden boldness. he looks at jongin, coolly meeting his gaze.

“sorry, don’t think we’ve met,” baekhyun says, his voice dripping with a saccharine sweetness that’s anything but genuine. he tightens his arm around your waist just enough that you can feel the shift in his posture, like he’s pulling you into his orbit. his eyes flicker briefly to you before he meets jongin’s gaze again, sharp and calculating. “who are you?”

“relax, buddy,” jongin chuckles, clearly unfazed, though there’s an edge to his voice. “can’t a man talk to an old fling?”

baekhyun's smirk widens, but there’s a shift in his expression that sends a shiver creeping down your spine. his eyes narrow, no longer playful or teasing, but dark—almost predatory. the air around him seems to thicken, charged with something dangerous. 

“of course he can,” he says, his voice smooth, almost too calm, but beneath the words lingers an undeniable edge. “just not when she's with her new boyfriend.” his eyes sharpen, scanning jongin from head to toe, the silent challenge in his stare unmistakable. “you understand, don’t you?”

boyfriend.

the word hits you like a slap. your mind blanks, then fills with the echo of that single word—boyfriend. boyfriend. boyfriend. it loops in your head, drowning out the noise around you.

you blink up at baekhyun, your pulse quickening as you try to process what just happened. the air between you seems to thicken, and for a moment, you’re unsure whether you’ve heard him right. but before you can gather your thoughts, his thumb brushes against the exposed skin of your shoulder in a slow, deliberate motion, grounding you, pulling you back to the present.

“and trust me,” baekhyun continues, his voice still light, but there’s an edge of something in it now—something that sounds like possession. “she’s long forgotten your sorry ass. so no need to be ‘reconnecting’ anything. isn’t that right, my girl?”

you freeze for a beat, your brain scrambling to put together something that sounds convincing. you feel your heart thudding in your chest, blood rushing in your ears as you fight the strange, rising panic. why did he say that? your throat tightens as you try to process, to find some semblance of normalcy in this chaotic moment.

“ah, uh—y-yeah,” you stammer, the words sticking in your throat. you clear it quickly, hoping to mask the sudden shake in your voice. “jongin, this is baekhyun, my... boyfriend.” you gesture from jongin to baekhyun, your hand feeling oddly heavy.

the way you say it feels strange, as if the word boyfriend doesn’t quite fit, but the sincerity in baekhyun’s arm around you, the warmth of his touch, makes it feel... real.

you barely register jongin’s sharp inhale or the way his expression falters for a split second. baekhyun’s grip on you tightens for a moment before he leans down, his lips brushing your forehead in a quick, almost teasing kiss.

“we’re actually here for new year's, you know,” baekhyun says, his voice laced with a sweetness that you can’t quite shake off. “my girl can’t stand the cold back home, so we thought we’d escape for a bit.”

you glance up at baekhyun, trying to process how he knows exactly how much you hate the cold.

jongin stands there for a moment, the sharp glint in his eyes betraying the thoughts running through his mind. but before he can say anything more, his driver arrives, and he quickly shifts, offering a lazy smile as he turns to leave.

“well, that’s me,” he says, his voice dripping with a mix of sarcasm and something darker, like he's savoring the moment. “as much as this reunion’s been... lovely, the ritz doesn’t wait, right? good luck with your little relationship, though. she’s only worth the first few rounds, by the way,” he adds, giving baekhyun a light slap on the shoulder, before his gaze shifts to you—cold, dismissive, and pointed.

with that, he turns on his heel and walks away, leaving the two of you standing there in a thick, uncomfortable silence. you exhale slowly, trying to shake off the tension that’s still hanging in the air.

baekhyun doesn’t release you, his arm staying firmly around your waist as he tugs you closer, the heat from his touch making the knot in your stomach tighten.

you shift uncomfortably, your voice barely above a whisper. “baekhyun? why... why did you do that?”

baekhyun shrugs, eyes avoiding yours as a cocky smirk spreads across his face. “he was a dick. and frankly, i’m the only one allowed to be a dick to you, sweetheart.”

you scoff, but the irritation quickly fades, especially with how close he’s standing. his presence is magnetic—infuriatingly comfortable, and you find it hard to stay mad when you’re this close to him.

“w-wait—” you stammer, hurrying to keep up with baekhyun as he walks toward the luggage carousel. you watch him reach for the bags, his sleeves rolled up, revealing the defined muscles of his forearms as he moves effortlessly. as much as you’re tempted to linger on the sight of his bare forearms and the veins that run along them, your thoughts are still tangled in the conversation you just left behind. “he said he’s going to the ritz?”

baekhyun pauses, his fingers wrapping around the handle of your suitcase as he turns to glance back at you. his brow arches slightly, and there’s a fleeting flicker in his expression—something sharp, maybe irritation or even jealousy, though you can’t quite pinpoint it. it’s subtle, but it’s there, simmering beneath his calm exterior. “yeah? and?”

you falter, the realization crashing into you like a freight train. “you… you booked our stay at the ritz.”

the words hang in the air, and for a second, baekhyun doesn’t respond. instead, he straightens, pulling your suitcase off the carousel with a practiced ease before grabbing his own. his movements are unhurried, deliberate, like he’s giving himself time to decide how to respond.

finally, he lets out a low chuckle, the sound warm but edged with amusement. “oh, i see what you mean now.” his gaze flickers to you, his lips curving into that infuriatingly cocky smile. “what? you worried about running into him again? don’t tell me you’re still hung up on that asshole.”

you roll your eyes, crossing your arms defensively. “no, i’m not hung up on him. it’s just…weird. what are the odds, right?”

baekhyun shrugs, completely unfazed. “doesn’t matter, sweets. it’s the ritz. i booked it because you deserve nothing less. if he’s staying there too, that’s his problem, not ours.” he smirks, the corners of his eyes crinkling in that way that always manages to irritate and disarm you all at once. “besides, if he shows up, i’ll just remind him who you’re with now.”

his words hang in the air, casual but loaded, and you’re left staring at him, your cheeks heating as you struggle to come up with a response. typical baekhyun—always leaving you flustered and one step behind.

the car ride to the hotel is the kind of moment you’d want to capture forever. the windows are rolled down, letting the warm, golden sunshine pour in, and the tropical breeze carries the scent of saltwater and plumeria. you lean your head back against the seat, letting your eyes flutter closed for just a second as the warmth kisses your skin. it feels almost unreal, the stark contrast to the biting cold and slate-gray skies of new york city that you left behind.

cold never suited you.

you’d always hated bundling up in layers, the way your breath fogged up the air, and how the snow turned into a slushy mess on the sidewalks. you hated it all. and yet, somehow, baekhyun knew.

you glance at him from the corner of your eye, trying to piece it together. he’s relaxed in the driver’s seat, one hand loosely gripping the steering wheel while the other rests on the open window’s edge. his shirt sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, and his hair is ruffled slightly from the breeze. he looks completely at ease, like he belongs in this setting, soaking up the sun and radiating that same kind of effortless warmth.

“you’re quiet,” he says, breaking the silence. his voice is light, teasing, but not overbearing. “cat got your tongue, or are you just enjoying my company?”

“yeah, you wish,” you quip back, but there’s no real bite in your tone. your gaze drifts out the window, watching the palm trees blur past. “it’s just… nice here. warm. i like it.”

“better than new york, huh?” baekhyun grins, his eyes flicking toward you briefly before focusing back on the road. “figured you’d like it here.”

you blink, caught off guard. “you… figured? what do you mean?”

he shrugs, his casual demeanor just a little too smug for your liking. “you complain about the cold every chance you get,” he says, ticking off each point like a laundry list. “you show up to work in like three coats, a scarf, a beanie, gloves—and don’t even get me started on that sauna of an office you keep. every time i have to drop off paperwork, i’m convinced i’m walking into a tropical rainforest.”

“oh.” your frown deepens, a flicker of embarrassment creeping in. you hadn’t realized your habits were that obvious, but then again, this is baekhyun—he notices everything, even the things you wish he wouldn’t.

“besides,” he continues, his tone softening, “you deserve a break. and yeah, i know you’d probably rather be on this trip with some other loser from work, but…” his eyes flick to yours briefly, something playful but sincere lingering there, “i figured at least the weather would make you happy.”

and you are happy, you realize, though admitting it feels like giving him too much credit. the sun, the warm breeze, the open windows—it’s all so far removed from the icy grind of your usual routine. the air feels lighter here, and maybe, just maybe, so do you.

you glance at him again, catching the slight curve of his lips, that telltale satisfied smile that says he knows he got this one right. it’s annoying, really, but for once, you can’t summon the energy to fight him on it.

“thanks,” you murmur, your voice barely cutting through the rush of the wind outside.

he doesn’t miss a beat. “‘course,” he says, his smile widening like he’s been waiting for you to say it. then, because he’s baekhyun, he adds, “but hey, if you want to admit i’m the best coworker ever, i won’t stop you.”

you roll your eyes, but even that feels easier here. you settle back against the seat, the sun warming your skin, and let yourself enjoy the moment—just this once.

the lobby buzzes with the energy of holiday travelers—laughter, the distant sound of luggage wheels, the soft clinking of champagne flutes from the bar nearby. you and baekhyun stand at the concierge desk, your patience already wearing thin as the desk clerk types furiously into their computer.

“ah, yes,” the clerk says, glancing up with a polite smile. “we have you booked for one room—honeymoon suite, king bed.”

you blink. “i’m sorry, what?”

“the honeymoon suite,” they repeat, a tinge of unease creeping into their voice as they register your disbelief. “with one king bed.”

“that can’t be right,” you say, your tone sharp enough to slice through the holiday cheer around you. “honeymoon suite? are you sure you pulled up the right reservation? we’re here on a work trip, not a honeymoon. i’m sure we were supposed to have two rooms?”

the clerk’s smile falters, replaced by a wince of sympathy. “i’m so sorry,” she says, her voice overly apologetic. “the reservation only shows one room—the honeymoon suite. and unfortunately, we’re completely booked because of the holidays, so i can’t offer you any additional rooms. however, there is a sofa bed in the suite,” she adds, as though that detail might soften the blow.

it doesn’t.

you pivot on your heel, fixing baekhyun with an incredulous glare. your expression says it all: are you kidding me? meanwhile, he looks as relaxed as ever, one hand casually resting on the counter, the other in his pocket. the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips is enough to make your blood boil.

“baekhyun,” you hiss, your voice low enough to avoid drawing attention but packed with enough fury to cut through his smug demeanor—or so you hope. “what the hell happened, king of the fucking finance department? you were in charge of the booking.”

he meets your gaze, his smirk growing into something downright infuriating. he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t waver, just stands there like he owns the place, completely unbothered. and for a split second, you think he might actually find your irritation entertaining.

he blinks at you, eyes wide with mock shock as he lets out an exaggerated gasp. “i could have sworn i booked two rooms.”

your jaw tightens, your glare sharp enough to pierce through steel, but he doesn’t so much as flinch. instead, he turns back to the clerk, his tone smooth and unbothered. “oh well,” he says with a nonchalant shrug, as though sharing a bed is the most natural thing in the world. “it’s fine. we’ll make it work.”

before you can even open your mouth to protest, he plucks the two room keys off the counter, his lips curving into a disarmingly charming smile. “thanks so much!” he says, his voice all honey and confidence, before grabbing your belongings and striding toward the elevators like he’s just won a prize.

you stand there, rooted to the spot, half-fuming and half-stunned, before your feet finally propel you forward. your steps are quick and purposeful as you catch up to him. “baekhyun, i swear—”

he lets out a dramatic sigh, leaning against the elevator wall. “look, this was a pretty impromptu trip,” he explains, his voice taking on a softer tone, though the glint in his eye tells you he’s not entirely innocent. “we only found out about it a few days ago and it was the best—and only—room available. sorry, sweets.”

you narrow your eyes at him, lips pressed into a tight line. “‘sweets’? seriously, baekhyun, you need to cut it with the cute pet names before i smother you in your sleep tonight.”

he raises an eyebrow, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “what? you wouldn’t do that to your boyfriend, would you?” he teases, the words dripping with amusement as his grin grows wider.

the moment you step into the room, you're hit with its effortless elegance. the soft, golden light of the hawaiian afternoon floods in through the large windows, casting a warm glow across the expansive suite. the walls are decorated with modern art that feels both stylish and inviting, while the floors are covered in a plush cream-colored rug that matches the dark wood furniture. a massive king-sized bed dominates the room, draped in crisp white linens with fluffy pillows stacked high. to your left, there’s a sleek glass-walled shower and a soaking tub that looks out over the coast. it’s a peaceful, luxurious space, and for just a moment, you forget all the chaos of the check-in.

you sigh contentedly and make a beeline for the bed. it’s so inviting, the mattress looking impossibly soft, the kind of bed you can sink into and never want to leave. without hesitation, you plop down, burying yourself in the comfort of the bed and letting out a blissful hum. “dibs on the bed tonight,” you say, looking up at baekhyun with a mischievous grin.

he stares at you for a moment, lips curling into a smirk. “oh, no you don’t,” he retorts, walking over and sitting on the edge of the bed. “this bed’s big enough for both of us. we’ll just share.”

you shake your head, hands stretching out like you're claiming territory. “nope. you can take the sofa, my guy. i’m calling it. this is my bed.”

baekhyun chuckles, a low, amused sound that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. he leans back, feigning deep thought, but the playful glint in his eyes gives him away. he’s not nearly as irritated as he wants you to believe. "fine," he finally says with a dramatic sigh, standing up and stretching as if the very act of standing is a monumental task. “i’ll take the sofa, even though i’m not thrilled about that.”

you watch him, trying to maintain your cool, but the unexpected pang in your chest catches you off guard. the way he’s pretending to be put out, the effort he’s putting into making it seem like he’s sacrificing something when he’s clearly just messing around—it all hits you. for a split second, you feel bad. genuinely bad. a small voice in your head whispers that maybe he’s doing this to be nice, that maybe he’s not as bad as you keep telling yourself.

but no. you push it down. you’ve made your decision about him, and you won’t let him worm his way in with his charm. you hate him, and nothing—nothing—will change that.

suddenly, baekhyun halts, his playful demeanor shifting into something more serious, though the faintest trace of a smirk remains tugging at the corners of his mouth. “i’m gonna shower first. we can finish figuring out the whole sleeping arrangement afterward, but i’m down for a pillow wall, if you are, sweets.”

his gaze flickers to yours, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes. “i know that was on your mind,” he adds, his tone dripping with smug confidence. and damn it, that annoys you, because he’s right. it pisses you off, that he knows you so well.

he leans in slightly, voice smooth as silk, his smirk widening. “and hey,” he continues, “you wouldn’t want your dear old boyfriend to end up on the not-as-comfy sofa, right? be a good girlfriend, would ya?” there's a challenge in his tone, one that pulls at something inside you, a knot tightening in your chest.

you stare at him for a beat, trying to muster up the usual annoyance, but you can’t help the chuckle that escapes your lips. “you’re insufferable, baekhyun,” you mutter.

he winks at you, not missing a beat. “thanks, sweets. oh, and by the way,” he adds, tone dropping to one of mock seriousness, “don’t leave your expensive shampoos and stuff out, okay? if i find them, you’ll be watching me use them all up. fair warning.”

“don’t even think about it!” you call after him, but you can’t hide the amused smirk tugging at your lips. you watch him disappear into the bathroom, the sound of the shower starting a few seconds later.

your mind is a blur from everything that happened today. the weight of it all presses down on you, and the only thing you can focus on is shuffling through your bag to pull out your laptop. your fingers tremble as you tell yourself that, if you're going to avoid thinking about it all, you might as well get some work done.

so, you dive into your tasks—attempting to organize baekhyun's script and fine-tune a presentation. it’s a half-hearted effort, though. the words blur together, and the sound of your own thoughts fades, the distraction of everything around you creeping in.

you're barely getting anywhere when the sound of running water suddenly stops, pulling you from the haze of your work. the bathroom door creaks open, and your heart skips a beat as you glance up, knowing exactly what’s coming.

and there he is.

baekhyun. 

fucking shirtless.

the same baekhyun who has spent months throwing paper clips at you during meetings, the one who always swiped the last muffin in the break room—one he knew you’d been eyeing all day. standing there, completely unbothered by your presence, his sharp hip bones and smooth muscle curves on full display.

his broad shoulders practically fill the doorway of the bathroom, water droplets still clinging to his skin, glistening under the light as they trail down his collarbones, catching the soft glow of the room. they follow the sharp planes of his abs, disappearing just below the towel hanging low on his waist—just barely hiding the path that your eyes desperately try to pull away from.

you swallow hard, fighting the flush rising to your cheeks, but the image is already burned into your mind.

you turn away from him, trying your best to ignore the way your body seems to heat up at the sight of him standing there, half-drenched and smug.

“baekhyun,” you huff, shaking your head. “will you put some fucking clothes on?”

he just raises an eyebrow, clearly unbothered by your discomfort, and with a teasing grin, he casually asks, “could you toss me my clothes, sweetheart? i kinda left them on the bed.”

you roll your eyes but can’t stop the small sigh that escapes your lips. “you’re unbelievable.”

turning, you walk over to the bed where his clothes lay, carefully picking them up and making your way toward the bathroom. the large, opulent space feels even bigger as you step inside, and you can feel the humidity from the steam still lingering in the air.

as you step closer to him, your foot slips on the puddle of water he carelessly left on the floor. your balance falters, and before you can catch yourself, baekhyun's quick reflexes come into play, and he catches you by the waist.

his chest is still damp, and your body presses against his—his wet skin, still warm from the shower, sends a jolt through you, and for a moment, your mind blanks.

you can feel his heartbeat under your palm, and you pull yourself together, clearing your throat. “right. great. i, uh—thanks,” you mutter, pushing yourself away from him and regaining your composure.

baekhyun doesn’t seem fazed, his eyes still glinting with mischief as he looks down at you, but you quickly shake your head and take a step back, raising a hand. “out. now. i need to use the bathroom, and you’ve been hogging it long enough.”

he smirks, clearly amused, but doesn’t argue. “fine, fine. but you owe me for saving you from that puddle. you’re welcome, sweetheart,” he says, pulling a towel around his waist as he walks past you, his grin never fading.

you huff, watching him leave the bathroom, all too aware of the lingering heat between you. once you’re alone, you exhale sharply, trying to shake off the tension that’s built up.

the night is long, and you can’t seem to get comfortable. baekhyun, despite having his own side of the bed, is tossing and turning, invading the carefully constructed pillow wall you made between you two. every time he shifts, his arm brushes against your side or his leg nudges yours, making sleep impossible. you try to push him away, but he doesn’t stay put, and soon, your frustration reaches its peak.

with a deep sigh, you throw the covers off and slide out of bed, silently cursing the universe for putting you in this position. without another thought, you drag your pillow and blanket over to the couch, settling in the cramped space. the sofa bed’s not great, but it’s better than trying to sleep next to baekhyun, who seems completely oblivious to your discomfort.

hours pass, and though you’re exhausted, sleep doesn’t come easily. the sofa bed is too short, and the padding is far from comfortable, leaving your back sore and your mind restless. you spend the night staring at the ceiling, trying to ignore the thoughts running through your head.

finally, as the morning light begins to filter through the curtains, you hear baekhyun stirring. you sit up, rubbing your eyes and immediately checking your laptop to avoid looking at him. the soft sound of him getting out of bed fills the room, and you can almost hear his confusion when he spots the sofa bed.

he’s quiet for a beat before his voice rings out with disbelief. “wait, seriously? you’re on the couch?” his tone is a mix of surprise and concern.

you glance at him from over your laptop, blinking away the grogginess. “yeah,” you reply, shrugging as if it’s no big deal. “it wasn’t that bad.”

baekhyun’s brow furrows as he walks toward you, eyes scanning the couch and then locking onto you with a look of confusion. “but still…” he says, his voice soft but serious, “i would've rather had you stay in bed, and me go onto the shitty couch. you going on the sofa bed sounds like something that other guy would have you do.”

he sits down next to you on the couch, so close that you can feel the warmth of his body seep into yours. despite the proximity, he acts as if this is completely normal, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. and yet, it’s throwing you off, making you question what exactly is going on between you two. but then you notice the subtle shift in his expression—a slight wince—as he realizes just how uncomfortable this is. it’s a fleeting moment, but you catch it, and it makes you smirk.

you laugh softly, breaking the tension. “okay, okay, fine. i’ll kick you out if you don’t behave tonight.”

baekhyun raises an eyebrow, clearly entertained. “not even gonna send me straight to the couch?” he teases, his voice dripping with amusement. “gonna give me a chance on the bed tonight? you goin’ soft on me, sweetheart? promise i won’t disappoint. y’know, women are actually trying to get into my bed, not out of it.”

you roll your eyes at him, shaking your head at his cocky demeanor. without warning, you start throwing pillows at him, laughing as you yell, “actually, you can sleep on the beach tonight, you fucking loser.”

he jumps off the couch, trying to dodge the pillows with a dramatic flair. “it’s too early in the day for you to be this violent, woman!” he yells, grinning like a maniac.

“oh, please!” you laugh, barely able to contain your amusement. “this is a normal tuesday for us, baekhyun.”

just as you’re about to throw another pillow, a loud knock echoes from the door, cutting through the chaos.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

baekhyun flops back onto the bed, the sheets crinkling beneath him as you both listen to the sharp knock at the door. but before you can even move, you take the opportunity to lob one last pillow at him—smacking him squarely in the face while he's still caught off guard. you quickly shuffle toward the door, eager to beat him to the punch before he can retaliate.

you wonder, just for a second, if it’s an employee delivering the good news that there's another room available, something that might finally make this whole situation more bearable. but as you open the door, your breath catches in your throat.

standing in the doorway, looking like a storm cloud ready to explode, is jongin. his glare could slice through steel, and his arms are crossed tightly over his chest, lips curling into a sneer.

“of fucking course” he mutters, his voice dripping with venom, “it would be you two making all that noise next door.” 

you sigh, an exasperated, barely contained groan slipping from your lips. “great. perfect. just what i needed,” you mutter, pinching the bridge of your nose as the last of your patience slips away. “what do you want, jongin?”

his sneer deepens, and his voice drops into something more menacing. “to shut the hell up,” he snaps. “some of us are still trying to sleep. i don’t care what pathetic excuse of a dick he’s giving you—”

“is that all?” you interrupt, your voice flat, cutting through his tirade before it can build. your hand slides the door open just a bit wider, your tone dry and uninterested. “if it is, i’ll get back to that ‘pathetic dick.’”

there’s a brief shuffle behind you, and before you can even react, you feel the heat of baekhyun's body press against your back, the sharpness of his presence unmistakable. he leans in close, his voice a low, almost playful hum that sends a shiver down your spine.

“what’s all this about pathetic dick?” he asks, his tone smooth and dangerously seductive, “‘cus it sure as hell can’t be mine.”

jongin’s eyes flick to baekhyun, and the tension between the two men is palpable, charged with unspoken animosity.

your face heats instantly as baekhyun’s arm wraps around your waist, pulling you tight against him. the warmth of his body is almost too much to handle, and his dark eyes glint with amusement as he tilts his head down to meet yours. the smirk that curls at the corner of his lips is nothing short of lethal. “isn’t that right, sweetheart?” his voice teasing and sure.

“uh... yeah,” you stammer, the words slipping out a little too quickly, your throat tight and a rush of warmth spreading beneath your skin.

jongin’s sharp gaze narrows, cutting through the space between you and baekhyun. “she doesn’t sound very convinced,” he sneers, his lips curling into a venomous smirk. “guess she’s been missin’ a real man, huh?”

without even sparing him a glance, baekhyun’s attention remains solely on you. his lips hover dangerously close to your neck, brushing just enough to send a shiver racing down your spine. “well,” he murmurs, his voice dipped in sweet, honeyed malice, “who’s been makin’ her scream all morning?”

he angles his head slightly, exposing a red splotch on his jaw, a visible mark left from the earlier cushion assault. but the way it stands out against his skin speaks to something far more suggestive. his gaze flicks to jongin, sharp and mocking. “we’ll try to keep the noise down. now, why don’t you go be a good neighbor and fuck off?”

before jongin can retort, baekhyun’s grip on you tightens, and he tugs you back and further into your shared room with a firm, deliberate motion. the door clicks shut behind you with a satisfying snap, the confrontation left to fizzle out on the other side.

the night had fully embraced the island, the sky a deep, velvety black speckled with a million stars. the moon hung low, casting a soft silver sheen over the water, which shimmered like liquid glass in the calm evening air. you and baekhyun had set up shop at the poolside, the faint sounds of the waves crashing against the shore in the distance acting as a subtle soundtrack to the tension brewing between you two.

the flickering glow of your laptop screen illuminated your focused face, but baekhyun’s insistent whining kept cutting through the silence, forcing you to push back any sense of calm.

“ugh, seriously? we’ve been here for hours.” baekhyun groaned, stretching dramatically in his chair, the sound of his back cracking loudly as he leaned back. his eyes fluttered closed for a second as he let out a deep sigh. “this is hawaii, hawaii, and we're just sitting here... working? you can’t be serious, sweetheart.”

your eyes remained locked on your laptop screen, fingers flying over the keys as you typed away. “it’s called responsibility, baekhyun,” you muttered without looking up, your voice dripping with subtle sarcasm. “though, given how little you seem to know about it, i’m not exactly surprised that word isn’t in your vocabulary.”

he groaned again, this time pushing his chair back with a squeak that sent a shiver through the otherwise still night. he stood up, stretching his arms above his head, his body languid and exaggerated in every movement. his pout was theatrical, like a child who hadn’t gotten his way. “but i didn’t come all the way here to work the entire time,” he whined, his voice almost teasing, “especially when we could be out there enjoying the beach, having fun. we’re just gonna stare at spreadsheets and powerpoints the whole damn time? come on, sweets, let’s at least take a walk on the beach for a bit. i hear there’s a cool bar down there... just down the way. you deserve a break.”

he’s right. you can feel the strain in your eyes and the thought of a cold piña colada from the bar sounds like the perfect remedy right now. “fine,” you snap, your voice sharp, cutting through the tension. “but we have deadlines, baekhyun. we can't lose out on this merger just because you wanna fuck around and—”

your sentence is abruptly interrupted when you stand to gather your things, unintentionally bumping into baekhyun in the process.

he stumbles backward, his arms flailing in a frantic attempt to regain balance. his eyes go wide in exaggerated mock horror, a grin tugging at his lips. and then—PLOP!—he crashes straight into the pool, fully clothed, the sudden splash sending a wave of water over the edge, soaking the surrounding area.

you froze, your mouth dropping open in shock. “oh my god, baekhyun! i didn’t mean to—”

baekhyun surfaced, his drenched hair clinging to his forehead as he wiped the water from his face with a laugh. “really? you accidentally pushed me into the pool?” his voice dripped with amusement, the playful glint in his eyes only making him more insufferable.

you instinctively extended your hand, guilt rising in your chest. “i’m sorry! here, let me help you out.”

but baekhyun had other plans. before you could react, he seized your wrist, his grip surprisingly strong, and tugged you toward him with a mischievous glint in his eye. “oh no, sweetheart, you’re not getting off that easy.”

a startled gasp escaped you as you stumbled toward the pool’s edge. in one swift motion, baekhyun yanked you into the water with him. the cold hit you like a shockwave, your body stiffening as the chill enveloped you, leaving your heart racing.

you froze for a split second, panic surging through you as the cold water surrounded you. “baekhyun!” you sputtered, your voice shaky as your heart pounded in your chest. “i-i can't swim!”

without hesitation, baekhyun’s strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you effortlessly against his chest. his body was warm against yours, his presence grounding in a way that made your head spin. “don’t worry, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice calm and soothing, but with an edge of something playful. “i’ve got you.”

his grip was firm, almost possessive, and it only intensified the heat flooding your cheeks. your body pressed so close to his, it felt impossible to breathe without feeling the weight of his every movement. you squirmed a little, trying to pull away, but his hold remained unyielding. “i swear, i’m gonna kill you,” you muttered through gritted teeth, frustration rising in your chest.

baekhyun’s laugh rumbled deep in his chest, low and teasing, sending a shiver racing down your spine. “if you kill me, princess,” he whispered, his breath warm and distracting against the side of your face, “you’re goin’ down with me.” his voice dropped to a mockingly romantic tone. “kinda poetic, though, don’t ya think? like romeo and juliet.”

before you could respond, the sliding glass door to jongin’s room swung open, and his voice rang out, breaking through the tension. “if you two are going to have sex in the pool, i’m calling security!” he yelled.

you froze, your cheeks burning as your embarrassment peaked. you were so done with baekhyun.

baekhyun, on the other hand, only laughed louder, his chest rumbling beneath your hands. “what?! can’t a man fuck his girl in peace? knew you were an asshole, but didn’t know you’d be a fuckin’ cockblock, too!”

you pushed against his chest, desperately trying to break free, the words slipping from your lips in a breathless hiss. “i swear, i'm going to kill you.”

and just like that, it was as if the spell that had bound the two of you together shattered, leaving everything heavy and tense. before he could even react, you were already grabbing your things, fleeing back toward the suite with a hurried, frantic urgency. leaving him behind and very, very alone.

the soft hum of the hotel room’s air conditioner was the only sound filling the space as you nestled deeper into the plush sheets, a gentle sigh escaping your lips. the warm water of the shower had relaxed your muscles, the exhaustion from the day melting away with each droplet. wrapped in a fluffy robe, you felt cozy in the bed, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a peaceful light around the room. 

you absentmindedly took another sip from your glass of water, the coolness of it soothing your dry throat. the day had been long, filled with endless emails and phone calls, and tomorrow’s presentation with kim corp. lingered in your mind like a weight you couldn’t shake. you’d be expected to nail it. your mind buzzed with all the things that could go wrong, all the ways you might stumble.

baekhyun returned to the room quietly, his footsteps barely audible against the soft carpet. he entered, holding a pineapple-shaped glass filled with a creamy piña colada, the faint scent of coconut and rum reaching you before he even spoke. his gaze immediately found you, and that ever-present, playful grin tugged at his lips.

“a peace offering,” he said casually, stepping closer, his voice gentle but full of the usual teasing warmth. “for the whole, y’know, pool incident earlier.”

you shot him a half-hearted glance, barely meeting his eyes. you could hear the slight edge of frustration in your own voice when you responded. “you didn’t have to drag me into the pool like that.”

baekhyun chuckled, his eyes bright with that mischievous glint. “maybe not, but it was fun, wasn’t it?”

you let out a sigh, a mixture of exasperation and amusement tugging at your lips, a reluctant smile curling despite yourself. baekhyun set the piña colada down on the bedside table with a soft clink, then proceeded to strip off his clothes. you quickly turned your gaze to the side, trying your best not to look, but god, it was nearly impossible not to glance. his body was a work of art—toned muscles, perfectly sculpted. even in the soft light of the room, the sight of him was enough to make your breath hitch. you forced your attention elsewhere, trying to keep your thoughts in check, but it was hard to ignore the way your body reacted.

he walked toward the bathroom, his steps sure and confident, and the sound of running water soon filled the space. you exhaled, attempting to push those thoughts from your mind, but it wasn’t easy. a few moments later, the sound of the water stopped, and the bathroom door creaked open. baekhyun emerged, freshly showered, his hair slightly damp and tousled, the scent of soap and shampoo lingering in the air. he wore nothing more than a simple t-shirt and sweatpants, but even in the most casual clothes, he still looked effortlessly stunning.

it was fucking infuriating.

he slid into the bed beside you with his usual ease, like it was second nature to him, yet his eyes didn’t stray from you. they lingered, observing you with that familiar intensity. you could feel his gaze on you, but you refused to meet it. something about the way he was looking at you made your heart race, and you didn’t know if it was the exhaustion from the day or the way he seemed to have an unspoken understanding of everything.

the pillow wall, once a physical barrier, seemed to stretch into something more now. as he shifted closer, his gaze flicked over you—keen, observant, knowing. his eyes softened slightly, as if sensing the quiet tension still holding you.

you didn’t need to look at him to know he was watching. you bit your lip, furrowing your brow, lost in thoughts that weighed heavier than you let on. of course, baekhyun noticed. he noticed everything about you. the way your shoulders were slightly hunched, the tightness in your jaw, the way your fingers gripped the edge of the blanket just a little too hard.

he shifted, leaning toward you with a gentle, reassuring smile, his voice low and smooth as he spoke. “y’know... you did great today. we both did.” his hand hovered just shy of the pillow wall, like he wanted to close the space but didn’t push. “and we’ll do great tomorrow too. you always do.”

you met his gaze, and for a fleeting moment, his words cut through the whirl of your thoughts like a breath of fresh air. you felt the tension in your shoulders ease, the grip on the blanket loosening as you let out a long, slow breath. “you always say that,” you murmured, a small smile tugging at your lips, though it was almost fond.

you couldn’t help but remember how baekhyun had always been the first to notice when you were nervous before presentations or meetings. he’d show up early, stand next to you, and assure you that you were going to crush it, always with that playful glint in his eye. at the time, you took it as nothing more than sarcasm, a part of his usual flirting. but now, as his words settled in your chest, a realization hit you. maybe—just maybe—he’d always been genuine. even when he was a flirtatious bastard.

baekhyun’s smile deepened, his eyes softening in that rare, vulnerable way you’d only ever seen in private moments. “’cus it’s true. you always pull through, no matter how much you’re stressing. you’ve got this. don’t let it eat you up.” the sincerity in his tone sent a ripple through you, and for the first time, you wondered if there was more to him than just the cocky, teasing persona he showed to the world.

you didn’t respond at first, your heart racing with the weight of tomorrow’s pressure. but his words, those simple, honest words, had a way of grounding you. slowly, you turned your head toward him, no longer worried about the invisible wall that still seemed to separate you. you didn’t need to say anything. his presence alone was enough to make you feel like you weren’t carrying the weight of it all alone.

baekhyun didn’t move any closer, but the space between you felt smaller somehow. his gaze remained steady on yours, the soft glow of the room casting gentle shadows across his features. he wasn’t going to let you carry it all on your own. and somehow, that reassurance settled your nerves more than anything.

the tension that had clouded the room seemed to dissipate, leaving a quiet, comfortable silence between you two. you finally took a sip of your piña colada, the cold sweetness of it sliding down your throat, and for the first time in hours, you allowed yourself to relax.

baekhyun’s voice broke the silence, playful as ever. “and don’t worry. if you need me to bail you out tomorrow, i’ll be right there, by your side. y’know i’m good at that.”

you chuckled softly, feeling a bit of the weight lift from your shoulders. “i’m sure you’ll find a way to ‘help,’ baekhyun.”

he grinned, his hand reaching out to briefly touch the edge of your pillow, just enough to let you know he was there. “always do, sweetheart. always do.”

and for the first time this entire trip, you felt like you might actually be able to sleep.

baekhyun leaned back in his chair, eyes unfocused as he traced the pattern on the desk with his finger, his mind drifting. the memory came flooding back—three years ago, the first day you’d officially stepped into the role of head of marketing at inb100.

it was a strange, almost surreal day for him. kyungsoo, as usual, was directing everyone around with his quiet but unyielding authority. sehun and chanyeol were up on ladders, struggling to hang a banner that said welcome new head of marketing! the sight made baekhyun roll his eyes as he watched them fumble with the task, then leaned back in his chair to speak up.

“aww, you guys shouldn’t have. but i’ve already been here for a couple years now,” baekhyun jokes, grinning as he glanced over at kyungsoo. “also, i’m in finance, not marketing.”

kyungsoo didn’t even look up from his clipboard, his voice as dry as ever. “always the idiot, aren’t you, baekhyun?”

baekhyun’s grin faltered, his thoughts momentarily stalled as the weight of the greeting on the banner settled in. new head of marketing. it hadn’t crossed his mind much before, but now, the realization hit him like a punch to the gut. kyungsoo didn’t seem to care at all, his focus entirely on whatever task was in front of him. but baekhyun couldn’t shake the nagging curiosity gnawing at him. who would fill that role? would they fit into the mold of everyone else? or would they stand out, make waves? he wasn’t sure why it mattered, but it did.

“have you met the new head yet?” baekhyun asked, his voice a little sharper than he intended.

kyungsoo didn’t even glance up, still engrossed in whatever was on his clipboard. “nope, not yet,” he replied flatly. “but i hear she's real good.”

‘she’, huh?

baekhyun hummed thoughtfully, tapping his fingers against the desk. “you think if she’ll be like the others? you know? just another cog in the machine. or maybe something different... a ‘yes man’ like chanyeol, always eager tobe on minseok’s good side? or maybe a hardass, like you, kyungsoo?”

baekhyun continued, his words flowing out without much thought. but kyungsoo had already tuned him out, lost in his own world as usual, the conversation no longer holding any of his attention. baekhyun's voice trailed off as he realized no one was listening. he let out a small sigh, his thoughts lingering on the possibility. 

but he quickly shrugged it off, dismissing the unease that began to coil in his chest. there was no point in getting worked up over it. the new head of marketing would probably just be another face, another name to add to the roster. nothing more.

he stood up and made his way over to the table, where an assortment of snacks lay—muffins, fresh fruit, coffee, all neatly arranged for the team to graze on. his stomach growled in protest, and he didn’t hesitate to grab a muffin, devouring it quickly without caring about the crumbs that fell carelessly onto his shirt.

he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, content for the moment, until a soft, confident voice cut through his haze.

“excuse me, do you mind if i grab one of those?”

baekhyun froze, fully expecting some random in marketing awaiting the new head’s arrival by grabbing a small snack.

but then he saw you.

his breath caught.

baekhyun swears he’d fallen in love at that moment.

you were everything he hadn’t anticipated—graceful, composed, with an effortless elegance that radiated from you. there was an air of quiet authority that surrounded you, impossible to ignore. you didn’t look like a typical office worker, much less someone in charge of marketing. no, you were too striking, too captivating to be confined to this place. had you ever considered modeling? baekhyun wondered, his mind running a little wild at the thought of you in front of cameras instead of spreadsheets.

you looked...different. better than anything he’d imagined. and just for a second, he felt like he was in the presence of something rare, something far beyond his typical workday.

his mouth went dry, a rush of heat flooding his face as he quickly forced a smile, trying to mask the surprise that hit him all at once. “uh, of course, go ahead,” he said, his voice a little strained as he stepped aside, maybe a little too quickly, to give you space.

you glanced at him, the corners of your mouth twitching into a subtle smirk, eyes glinting with amusement. “thanks,” you said, reaching for a muffin, your voice light and playful. “by the way, nice try with the whole ‘i’ve been here for years’ thing. thought it was kinda cute.” you paused, your gaze lifting to meet his, the challenge in your eyes sharp and clear. “but, what was it you said afterwards? wondering if i’m a 'yes-man' or a hardass?”

baekhyun blinked, completely thrown off guard. his stomach did an unexpected flip, and his heart rate picked up. how the hell had you read him so easily? it rattled him more than he was willing to admit. he hadn’t expected you to catch on so quickly, and the realization hit harder than he cared to admit. “i... uh... maybe i was,” he stammered, his confidence momentarily slipping, but then he quickly regained his composure. a grin spread across his face as he tried to steer the conversation back to safer ground. “but i’m relieved to see you’re not a hardass...at least not yet.”

you took a slow, deliberate bite of the muffin, raising an eyebrow as you held his gaze. “yeah, we’ll see,” you replied, your tone smooth and teasing. “but i’m not here to be anyone’s 'yes-man.'”

the tension in his chest melted away as a genuine laugh escaped him. there was something about the way you carried yourself that both intrigued and unsettled him. most people were easy to read, predictable—but not you. you weren’t someone he could figure out in one conversation, and for some reason, that only made him more curious.

god, you were exactly what he'd always dreamed of. seriously, his ideal.

and even now, you still felt like a dream—especially now, standing in front of him on your third day in hawaii. your fingers absently twisted through your hair as you studied your reflection in the mirror, smoothing down the fabric of your dress. “ugh, i hope it’s not over the top. how do i look?”

so fucking perfect, as always, is what he wanted to say.

but instead, he nudged your shoulder from where he was lounging in the office chair, the two of you waiting in the spacious meeting room before the ceo of kim corp and his partner. flashing you a teasing grin, he shrugged nonchalantly. “y’look fine, sweetheart. but, y’know, not quite as good as me.”

he couldn't help but savor the way your punch landed on his arm, the familiar warmth of your smile spreading across your face once again. it was the kind of smile that had started to feel like a constant, one he could easily picture lighting up his days if you'd let him.

“yeah, right. you can’t even tie this thing properly,” you teased, reaching over with quick fingers to fix his crooked tie. “see? much better,” you added, a proud smile tugging at your lips.

he chuckled, his cheeks dusted with a faint pink as that smile of yours worked its magic, making his heart stutter. leaning in closer, a mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes. “if you wanted to get your hands on me, you could’ve just asked, sweetheart. oh wait, you kinda did last night, didn’t you? i seem to recall someone ignoring their little pillow wall.”

“oh, shut up,” you glared at him, though the smirk tugging at the corners of your mouth betrayed your annoyance. “that was so embarrassing.”

baekhyun leaned casually against the conference table, the usual mischievous glint in his eyes. he was about to open his mouth, clearly ready to say something—something that would no doubt make you roll your eyes and laugh at his audacity—but just as he parted his lips, the door to the meeting room swung open with a sudden swiftness.

you both quickly snapped to attention, rising from your chairs to greet the mogul.

in walked junmyeon, the ceo of kim corp., impeccably dressed in his usual tailored suit, followed by none other than his trusted right-hand man. the air in the room immediately shifted—junmyeon exuded an air of quiet authority, while his partner’s presence was a magnetic pull that seemed to command attention effortlessly. but it wasn’t their professional demeanor that caught you off guard.

it was the moment jongin’s eyes landed on you.

a split second of recognition flickered across his face, and his eyebrows furrowed slightly. he glanced between you and baekhyun, his expression turning from curiosity to disbelief. his lips parted, and the unmistakable shock was clear in his voice.

“wait... no fucking way.” jongin's eyes darted between you and baekhyun, disbelief written all over his face as the three of you stood there, mouths practically on the floor. “you two?”

your heart skipped a beat, the sudden jolt of recognition freezing you in place. baekhyun, too, went rigid, his usual confident demeanor faltering for a moment as he tried to process what had just happened. his expression went blank, and you could almost see the gears turning in his head as he, too, scrambled to make sense of the situation.

your mind raced, trying to make sense of the tangled web of connections. junmyeon, the ceo of kim corp., was already making his way toward the table, completely unaware of the tension hanging in the air. his presence was commanding, as usual, but today, his stride felt slightly out of sync with the uneasy atmosphere he was about to walk into.

as he reached the table, junmyeon paused for a split second, glancing between you and baekhyun with a raised brow. “ah,” he said with a smile, clearly oblivious to the awkwardness. “so you three know each other? well, this should be easy then.” he casually unbuttoned his blazer, the movement smooth and confident, before taking a seat across from you both. his tone was light, almost amused, as he gestured for jongin to sit beside him.

jongin, still looking between you and baekhyun with that same perplexed expression, slid into the seat next to junmyeon, his eyes never fully leaving the two of you. you could practically feel the weight of his unasked questions hanging in the air, and it only made the situation feel more surreal.

you sat frozen for a moment, trying to regain your bearings, while baekhyun seemed to settle back into his usual cool, collected self. 

“so, about this merger…” junmyeon starts.

the meeting had concluded with impressive efficiency. presentations delivered, contracts laid out neatly in front of junmyeon, everything falling into place perfectly. as he stood up from the table, he gave you all a brief, reassuring smile. “i’ll just make a quick call to the board members—unfortunately, their flight got canceled back in new york, which was why they weren't able to attend today. it's too bad. they're missing out on the beautiful weather here,” he added with a light chuckle before heading for the door.

the door clicked shut behind him, and suddenly, the atmosphere in the room shifted. you felt the tension crackle almost immediately.

jongin was the first to speak, his voice low, but dripping with that signature sarcasm that could make even the most confident of people cringe. “i can't believe this,” he said, eyes flicking between you and baekhyun. his gaze lingered on you for just a second too long, the corner of his mouth lifting in disbelief. “you two are supposed to be here on a business trip AND you're also dating? really?” he scoffed, throwing his hands up in mock exasperation.

you shifted uncomfortably in your seat, instinctively glancing at baekhyun. he was leaning back in his chair, arms folded across his chest, expression unreadable.

jongin seemed to relish in the discomfort that had settled in the air. “you both are seriously going to get fired,” he continued, a wicked grin playing at his lips. “i’m telling minseok. you’ll both be out of a job faster than you can fucking blink.”

"i don’t recall there being anything in our employee contracts that forbade us from dating our coworkers." baekhyun tensed beside you, his posture rigid, as if he were ready to swing the moment you gave the word.

jongin’s eyes narrowed as he leaned in towards, his voice dipping into something low and bitter. “back when you and i were still together,” he drawled, his gaze flickering between the two of you with mock interest, “i remember how much you complained about baekhyun. god, you really couldn’t stand him.” amusement dripped from his words as he turned his attention to baekhyun, a smirk tugging at his lips. “funny how things change, huh?”

a flash of something—was it irritation? amusement?—passed over baekhyun’s face, but he stayed silent, allowing jongin to continue.

jongin's smirk deepened as the silence stretched on. “you’d be better off with me than this ‘incompetent little shit’, as you like to put it,” he said casually, like it was no big deal. his tone, though, was as sharp as ever, and you could tell he was testing both you and baekhyun—waiting to see how far he could push.

jongin's words hung in the air like a challenge, but before you could even process your reaction, baekhyun spoke, his voice smooth but laced with a dry humor that you knew all too well.

“yeah, i'm sure she told you about all the things i did to piss her off.” he paused, his eyes narrowing slightly, the playful glint never quite leaving. “y'know, the stuff that made her so mad she couldn’t even look at me without wanting to throw something at my head.”

you rolled your eyes, not at all surprised by baekhyun's tendency to casually brush off every slight, but something about his tone made it clear he wasn’t rattled by jongin's comments.

he leaned forward slightly, his gaze flicking back to you, and a smirk tugged at his lips. “honestly, it’s not like i didn’t deserve it,” he continued with an easy shrug. “she hated me back then. hell, she probably still can’t stand me now.”

you glance at baekhyun, your brows knitting together in uncertainty, unsure of where he’s going with this. the air between the three of you feels charged, a quiet tension bubbling just beneath the surface. you open your mouth, ready to steer the conversation into safer waters, to defuse whatever this is before it spirals.

but then baekhyun speaks, his voice low and laced with a cocky edge that sends a ripple through the room. “i love pressing her buttons, though,” he says, his eyes flickering with mischief as he leans back, utterly unbothered. “she’s fucking hot when she’s pissed off.”

“what the hell?” jongin starts, his eyes darting between you both in disbelief. you could practically feel the heat rising in your cheeks, already overwhelmed by the absurdity of this whole interaction. “and you? you're just... fine with this? how the hell do you deal with him when i never got the time of day for even being mildly annoying to you?”

before you can even open your mouth to respond, baekhyun’s already stepping in, his voice laced with amusement, completely unfazed by the situation. "well, we fuck it out, of course," he says casually, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "oh! did she find you that repulsive that she wouldn’t even touch you when she’s pissed? aw, couldn’t be me."

jongin’s jaw dropped slightly, his face scrunching in a mixture of irritation and disbelief. “this is... ridiculous,” he muttered under his breath, clearly done with the back-and-forth.

it was as if you were saved by the bell when the door suddenly swung open, and in walked junmyeon, his bright smile lighting up the room. “alright, everything's all good with the board. let’s get to signing.” he says, his tone cheerful and confident.

jongin, however, wasn't having it. he stood up, his frustration palpable as he interjected, “junmyeon, you can’t be serious. we can’t be doing business with these scumbags!”

junmyeon’s expression tightened for a split second, his calm demeanor shifting just enough to send a sharp, pointed glance in jongin’s direction—a look that unmistakably conveyed enough. “that’s enough out of you, jongin,” he said, his voice low and steady, yet carrying an undeniable authority. the words cut through the building tension in the room, effectively silencing it. “you’ll have to excuse my business partner here. he’s obviously not in his right head. maybe still jet lagged?”

after that, everything seemed like a blur—contracts were signed, signatures hastily scribbled in all the right places, and baekhyun, ever the troublemaker, took every opportunity to make faces at jongin from behind junmyeon’s back. the tension in the room was almost palpable as you tried to keep your focus on the task at hand.

then, with a casual smile, junmyeon added, “oh, and you two must have lunch with us soon now that we’re official partners. i’m sure the board would be quite pleased with you two.” the words lingered in the air, heavy with implication, and you could practically feel jongin's discomfort radiating from across the room. 

baekhyun, never one to miss a chance to stoke the fire, couldn’t resist. with that infuriatingly smug grin of his, he leaned forward, voice dripping with playful confidence. “of course, my girlfriend and i would love to,” he said just loud enough for jongin—exiled to a nearby table—to seethe in barely contained irritation. “won’t we, sweetheart?” 

as the meeting wrapped up, junmyeon stood, his smile practically glowing with excitement. “i can’t think of a better way to start the new year than with this partnership,” he said, his tone warm and genuine. “thank you both for your hard work and dedication, especially during the holidays. i know this isn’t ideal timing—most people would rather be with their families right now.” he paused, glancing between you and baekhyun. “but at least you two have each other to ring in the new year tonight. that’s something, isn’t it?” 

his words lingered, and you felt a strange mix of guilt and gratitude as you glanced at baekhyun, who, despite his usual antics, offered you a small, genuine smile.

and just like that, you found yourself gripping baekhyun by the lapels of his suit, half dragging, half stumbling as the two of you careened into the room. your head buzzed from the whirlwind of the night—the thrill of the merger officially sealed, the celebratory drinks at the beach bar baekhyun wouldn’t stop raving about, and the heady mix of alcohol and adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

“careful now, sweetheart,” baekhyun chuckled, his voice warm and teasing as you both tripped over each other’s unsteady steps, the door swinging shut behind you. “can’t go ruining our streak now. wouldn’t want to kill each other on our last day, right? we’ve been on such a roll.”

his grin was infectious, and despite your mild frustration at his antics, you couldn’t help but laugh. the way he looked at you—mischief twinkling in his eyes, his tie loosened just enough to reveal the carefree confidence he wore so well—made your head spin.

“hey, baekhyun?” your voice is soft, almost hesitant, as you glance over at him.

“yeah, sweets?” he responds casually, toeing off his shoes and shrugging out of his jacket, his movements unhurried as if the weight of the evening hadn’t touched him at all.

he pauses, his back turned to you as he adjusts the cuffs of his shirt. then, slowly, he turns, a lazy smirk already tugging at the corners of his lips. “what, you didn’t like it?”

“that’s not—” you huff, crossing your arms, feeling the warmth of the alcohol make your words clumsier than usual. “that’s not the point, baekhyun. i just… wanna know why.”

he takes a step closer, the glint in his eyes unmistakable as he tilts his head, studying you with that maddeningly playful expression of his. “because it’s fun watching you squirm,” he says simply, but there’s something deeper in his tone, something that lingers unspoken between you.

“you’re so fucking annoying,” you mutter, but the heat rising in your cheeks betrays you.

he lets out a soft chuckle, stepping closer until there's barely any space between you. “maybe,” he says, his voice dipping into a low murmur. he steps in even closer, his hand sliding effortlessly to your waist, pulling you just a bit nearer. “or maybe... i just like the way it sounds. my girlfriend.”

for the first time in either of your lives, you look up at baekhyun with something entirely new in your eyes. there’s a pink tint dusting your cheeks, softening the sharpness of your usual quips, and a sparkle in your gaze that practically screams that, to you, baekhyun puts the stars in the sky.

the sight freezes him in place. his confidence, always at an all-time high, suddenly falters. your expression, so full of quiet awe, makes his chest tighten and—god help him—his dick twitch in response. he coughs awkwardly, breaking eye contact and quickly retreating behind a mask of playful bravado.

“anyway,” he blurts, voice a little higher than usual, “did you see jongin’s face after? priceless. he looked like he’d swallowed a lemon.”

his deflection is so blatant it’s almost laughable, but you let it slide. the memory of jongin’s ashen face pulls a giggle from you, light and giddy, and baekhyun leans in just a little, clearly relieved that you’ve let him off the hook—for now.

“oh my god, yes!” you laugh, your words tumbling out between breaths as you press him back against the wall to steady yourselves. you’re drunk—on the victory, on the night, and maybe, just maybe, a little on him. “jongin looked like he was going to fucking explode.”

“see, sweetheart?” baekhyun’s grin is back, his cocky edge sharpened by your laughter. his arms wrap around you, drawing you closer in what could pass for a congratulatory hug. or, at least, that’s how it starts. “told ya i’d remind him you’re with now.”

but his hands settle lower than they should, fingertips pressing into the curve of your hips in a way that feels decidedly more possessive than celebratory. neither of you say anything about it, the moment hanging heavy in the air, charged with an electricity that neither of you can quite bring yourselves to disrupt.

“don’t even know why you dated that fuckin’ bozo in the first place,” baekhyun drawls, his voice dripping with smugness. his lips curl into a lopsided grin, the kind that always sparks a mix of irritation and amusement in you. “he’s not even in your league.”

you scoff, rolling your eyes with dramatic flair. “oh, gee, thanks. really boosting my self-esteem here.”

“no, no. not like that,” he says, his tone shifting as he leans in. his fingers catch your chin, tilting your face up until your eyes lock onto his. and god, his gaze—dark, hungry, and laced with something unspoken—sends a tremor straight through you. “don’t ever think it’s that way, stupid. you’re too gorgeous for him. besides,” he adds with a wicked grin, “he spoke like a man who couldn’t even find the clit.”

the laugh bursts out of you before you can stop it, a mix of disbelief and amusement. but you recover quickly, your lips curling into a sly smirk as you counter, “well, he did find it.”

his expression shifts in an instant. the playful glint in his eyes dims, replaced by something darker, sharper. his brows knit together, and his jaw ticks as he processes your words, the muscle there working overtime. it’s satisfying—watching him squirm, just a little.

“but,” you say, leaning in close, your lips brushing against the shell of his ear, your voice dropping to a low, teasing whisper, “wanna hear a secret?”

he doesn’t speak—doesn’t even breathe, it seems. he gives a short, barely-there nod, his body tensing under the weight of your words.

“he still never made me cum.”

his body stills entirely, as if your words have short-circuited him. his eyes bore into yours, searching for some sign of a joke, but all he finds is your growing smile.

“...never?” he finally breathes, the single word heavy with disbelief and something dangerously close to anger.

you lean back just enough to catch every flicker of emotion in his face, your grin widening as you deliver the final blow. “never.”

the air between you shifts, heavy and charged, as the weight of your confession lingers. you expect baekhyun to retort with his usual quick wit, some snarky comment that’ll have you rolling your eyes.

“i could,” he breathes, the words almost shaky, like he’s barely holding himself together. his breaths are ragged, his chest rising and falling faster than you’ve seen all night.

you blink, tilting your head in confusion, caught off guard by the uncharacteristic seriousness in his tone. “what?”

his eyes find yours, dark and unwavering, and he repeats himself, this time with a cocky edge curling his lips into that smirk you know too well. “i could made you cum, y’know.” he leans in, his voice thick with confidence and something more primal. 

his words send a shiver down your spine, but there’s a part of you—a defiant, playful part—that refuses to give in so easily. raising a brow, you let a sultry smirk spread across your lips. “is that an offer?”

the reaction is instant. baekhyun’s arms loop around your waist, pulling you flush against him with a grip that’s almost too tight, the kind that borders on possessive. you could swear you hear your bones protest, but you don’t care. not when his eyes are burning into you like this, not when his lips hover so close you can feel the heat radiating off them.

“it’s a promise, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice low and thick with a hunger that makes your breath catch, sending a wave of heat crashing through you. the words land heavy in the air between you, and his unwavering gaze locks with yours, the intensity in his eyes almost enough to make your knees give way.

oh, that’s all you needed to hear—everything you’d been craving. and he knows it. he sees the way your skin prickles with goosebumps, how your body reacts to him without even trying. the way your lips part just slightly, almost like an invitation, and he swears he can hear that soft, syrupy tone in your voice before you even speak it.

“prove it to me then,” you whisper, the challenge clear in your eyes, daring him to follow through.

in that moment, the fireworks erupted in the distance, their deafening roar ringing in the new year as baekhyun’s lips crashed into yours with a force that stole the breath from your lungs. it wasn’t gentle or deliberate—nothing like the soft, romantic kisses you’d imagined. this was raw, primal, as if an invisible force had pulled you together, unrelenting and inevitable. every frantic press of his lips against yours felt like an explosion, a desperate, magnetic connection that neither of you could fight.

it was unlike anything you’d ever expected from byun baekhyun—no boundaries, no rules, just the overwhelming sensation of drowning in each other, caught in a storm of heat and desperation. he kissed you like you were his air, like he couldn’t get enough, and he was willing to hold his breath forever if it meant keeping you close.

his tongue swept into your mouth, exploring every corner, every inch of your lips with frantic need, as if he’d been starved of this moment for far too long. it was as if he’d forgotten how to breathe, drowning in the intensity of it, but never daring to stop, afraid that the second he did, he’d lose you.

and then, the fireworks in the distance—their loud, overwhelming explosions—felt like the very way he kissed you: impossible to ignore. each burst in the sky mirrored the fierce, unrelenting clash of your lips, echoing with intensity and raw need. the vibrant lights, fleeting yet brilliant, lit up the dark sky, just like the way his mouth claimed yours, igniting heat in your veins.

with every pop and crackle of the fireworks, his kiss deepened, more frantic, as if he couldn’t hold back any longer. the colors above—bright, burning, alive—seemed to reflect the way he touched you, his hands pulling you closer, his tongue moving with desperation that matched the chaos of the display. it was a beautiful, reckless collision of sound and motion, and for that brief moment, nothing else existed. it was just you, just him, and the fire in his kiss, mirroring the explosion of fireworks lighting up the sky.

“ah, fuck—” baekhyun hisses, his voice low and strained as he pulls back just a fraction, delicate strings of spit snapping between you. his dark eyes drink you in, glossy and dazed with your lips swollen and glistening from his. “ya don’t know how long i’ve wanted to taste those lips of yours, sweetheart. i swear.”

he kisses you again and again, as though he couldn’t possibly stop, as though stopping might shatter him. his lips, his tongue—he’s everywhere, consuming and relentless, pulling soft moans from your throat when he slips his tongue past the seam of your lips. you’re dizzy with it, drunk on the taste of him and the faint, familiar sweetness of those strawberry lollipops you always caught him sucking on in the break room. and now? now, you’re the one he can’t get enough of, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

he pulls back slightly, his gaze capturing every soft sound that escapes your lips as his large hands knead your body through the fabric of your dress.

“ba-baekhy—” you gasp out, the words stumbling over your lips when he flips you, pressing you against the wall. his lips assault yours in a frenzy, peck after heated peck, desperate and needy. “what do you—mean—”

he groans, the sound rumbling in his chest as his lips trail down the quivering curve of your throat. “just… kiss me. damn, for someone who has such a gorgeous mouth, you sure talk too much, sweetheart.”

oh, and that was rich coming from him—though you barely get the chance to snap back at him before he’s already over it, deciding he’s done with all the teasing. if he’d even been teasing at all, that is.

in an instant, his hands are at the cold metal zipper of your dress, tugging it down with an easy motion, the fabric following with it as it pools around your waist, revealing more than you’re ready for. fuck, when did he even unclip your bra?

“you—” you try to speak, but the cool air in the room sends a shiver down your spine, your nipples hardening in the chill. the sensation only intensifies when you feel his stiff arousal pressing against your side, sending a hot rush of heat to flood your core. it’s more than just words now, and you feel the undeniable truth of it, the tightening in your thighs as you unconsciously squeeze them together. you shoot him a sharp, questioning look, your breath faltering slightly. “you’re serious about this, aren’t you?”

baekhyun flashes you that familiar, mischievous grin, and his large hands move to cup your breasts, his touch heavy and possessive. “wanna know how many times i’ve pictured this, sweetheart? go ahead, ask.”

“no,” you answer quickly, though your voice trembles just slightly.

“why not?” he teases, his gaze dark and intense.

“‘cus you haven’t,” you respond, your words more a challenge than a statement.

without any warning, his hand comes down hard, a sharp slap landing on the soft curve of your ass. the sting leaves a fiery trail as his fingers linger, pressing firmly through the fabric of your dress, now hiked even higher.

“always have to talk back, don’t you?” baekhyun spits the words, his knee pressing between your legs. his grin, so innocently handsome, spreads across his face as he notices the soft moan that slips from your lips. he grinds against you purposefully, feeling your body shift under him. “why won’t ya ever, hah—believe me?”

his hand yanks your dress down, down, down, while the other forces your hips against his thick, muscled thigh. “let’s try that again,” he says with a wicked gleam in his eye, “ask me like the good girl you are.”

you swallow hard, fighting the instinct to push back, to refuse him. instead, your body betrays you, moving with desperation as you feel yourself grinding helplessly against his thigh. a whimper escapes your lips when his hand tightens around your hair, pulling your head back to force you to look at him. 

you swallow hard, your voice trembling as you ask, “h-how many times have you pictured this, baekhyun?”

“lost count after your first month on the job, sweetheart,” he mutters, his voice thick with hunger, a dark, almost predatory smile curling on his lips.

you want to fight it. you want to resist, be bratty, rebellious. but your body betrays you, moving on its own, too far gone to even think clearly. the way you grind against him, needy and filthy, makes you feel like you're losing control, sinking deeper into the heat of desire that surges through you.

baekhyun watches you, his grin darkening as his hands take hold of your hips, guiding you to grind harder, faster, pushing you to drown in the overwhelming sensations. “yeah, that’s it,” he growls, his voice low and rough. “that’s my girl. a secret for a secret, right?”

his words hang in the air, heavy with intent. “remember that time i ‘slept’ through the whole meeting?” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear, then sinking into your lobe with a sharp bite. “nah, wasn’t sleepin’.”

his tongue traces the spot he just bit, slow and teasing, his voice dropping even lower. “it’s just... i couldn’t stop staring at that cute little skirt you wore that day. so fucking short, so tight. couldn’t bring myself to face anyone, not after i spent the entire night with my hand around my cock, thinking about all the sweet, filthy things i could do to you.”

“god, you're so fucking nasty,” you gasp, your breath coming in shallow bursts.

“yeah, i know,” baekhyun purrs, his fingers dancing over the hem of your dress, the fabric now hanging loosely at your thighs. “don't pretend you're all innocent when you wear somethin’ like this underneath. drivin’ me fuckin’ crazy. how'd ya know red’s my favorite color?"

you didn’t.

his finger glides across the lace of your red panties, feeling the dampness through the fabric. he groans, deep and satisfied. “yeah, thought so... just as dirty as i imagined.”

with his theory proven, baekhyun hooks one arm beneath your trembling thighs, lifting you effortlessly. you let out a desperate sound when he smacks your ass hard, the sting sharp and delicious. “baekhyun!” you cry, your body arching against him instinctively.

“oh, i love that. say it again,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire as he steps slowly toward the edge of your shared bed. he takes his time, savoring the feeling of your drooling cunt soaking through, leaving a small dark patch on his suit. “i said, say it again.”

all it takes is a sharp slap to your ass and the honeyed drag of his name on your lips to make baekhyun splay you out like some desperate slut on the soft, silken sheets. your hands instinctively grab at his broad shoulders when he pauses, taking a moment to admire just how breathtaking you look. even better than any fantasy his mind could conjure.

“baekhyun,” you mewl, and he licks his lips, eyes glazed, entranced by the sight of you. he's unsure where to focus—on the needy, cockdrunk look in your eyes, the way your flimsy dress clings to the plushness of your thighs, or the glistening patch on your cunt, already wet and waiting. it’s all so mouthwatering. “baekhyu—ba—baek!”

the sound of your voice snaps him out of his daze. “what did you call me?” he breathes, his words low and ragged.

you bat your lashes at him innocently, feigning sweetness, “baekhy—”

“no.” he interrupts, his throat bobbing with a heavy gulp. his thumb presses against your puffy lips, dragging the same words out of you—wanting them to spill directly to his aching cock once more. “the other one. don’t play stupid with me, sweetheart. you know exactly what i’m talking about.”

oh, you do.

you feel your pussy clench, the anticipation building, and you whine out that little nickname again. “baek, please.” you add a slight quiver, just enough to make baekhyun’s lips curl into a soft “oh!” his breath catches, a low hiss escaping him as his hand instinctively moves to squeeze his bulging erection.

“oh yes, m'name sounds so fucking cute on your lips,” he groans. the sheets beneath you rustle with the movement as he urgently shifts lower, “sounds so fucking good it makes me wanna—”

RIP!

“—know if she sounds just as pretty as you do when you’re beggin’ for me.”

you're still reeling from the disarray left by your favorite dress, now reduced to a crumpled heap on the floor, the fabric torn and forgotten. a burst of irritation rises in your chest, your voice cutting through the air as you huff, “baekhyun, you're ngh—dead if you don’t replace that—”

before you can finish your threat, his hand strikes again, this time landing softly but deliberately on your inner thighs, where your skin is already heated with frustration. the edge of his fingers brushes your swollen folds, sending a shiver through you. “yeah, yeah,” he murmurs with a dark chuckle, “i'll buy you the whole fuckin' store if ya want me to.” his breath hovers over you, hot and teasing, as he leans in, his lips barely grazing your ear. “but first, ’m gonna make sure ya don’t dare call me that again.”

his words hang in the air, leaving you speechless—any retort you might have had is completely wiped from your mind as he leans in closer. his tongue, warm and daring, slides a slow, deliberate path up your slick folds, the sensation dragging a breathless whimper from your lips.

“look at that,” baekhyun murmurs, his chuckle dripping with amusement. he spreads your thighs further apart, greedily taking in the sight of your glistening arousal, shimmering under the dim light. “she’s more mouthy than you, if that’s even possible,” he adds, his voice a low taunt.

his tongue delves in once more, licking up your wetness in long, eager strokes. again and again, he teases and tastes, driving you toward the edge of madness.

“fuck—baek,” you gasp, your fingers threading through his soft hair as his tongue slips past your folds. a desperate arch rises from your spine, your body straining for more. “need you to—hngh—go faster.”

but all you get in response is his sultry, smug grin pressing against your trembling skin. his lips quirk up at the edges, his gaze locked on you with satisfaction. “so needy, sweetheart,” he says, his voice thick with desire.

“guess you’re all bark and no bite, huh?” you pout, your voice taking on a teasingly whiny edge, savoring the way the challenge flickers across baekhyun’s face. you watch as that cocky grin falls away, replaced by a look of frustration, and it’s almost too easy. “should i go next door and take jongin up on that offer?”

the words hang between you, sharp and goading, and you can practically see the shift in him—the way it twists his insides. before you can even take another breath, he’s yanking your legs apart, his face buried back between your thighs, his hot breath ghosting over your wet skin.

he’s relentless. his tongue slides up your throbbing slit, slow and deliberate, before it moves again, and again—up and down, teasing your sensitive folds with a rhythm that has you gasping in response. each stroke sends shivers racing through your body, but it’s the next move that makes your breath catch in your throat.

“f-fuck, oh baek-” you squeal when he suddenly pushes past that tight, resisting ring, his tongue plunging deep into you without hesitation, making your back arch off the bed. you hadn’t even had a chance to brace for it, the sudden stretch catching you off guard, leaving you gasping for air. “how are you in so deep—”

but baekhyun doesn’t answer. not with words, anyway. instead, his thumb glides up to your clit, pressing with slow, deliberate pressure. he circles it in methodical strokes, matching the frantic rhythm of his tongue, which buries itself deeper into your swollen walls, pulling more desperate sounds from your throat.

he’s messy—sloppy with the way your juices spill past his knuckles, dripping down his wrist, forming a glossy sheen that coats your thighs and the sheets beneath you. the cadence of his movements mirrors the hunger in his body, his relentless need to fuck you with his mouth the way he wishes he could with his cock.

you gasp, the sensation of his tongue sweeping up your clit sending a sharp jolt of pleasure running through you. it’s too much—too good—and before you can recover, he’s back at it, attacking that spot deep inside you, each stroke more determined than the last.

“f-fuck, s’too good,” you whimper, your hands clutching at the sheets as your body trembles beneath his. “fuckin’ hate how your big mouth is so—ngh—so good at this.”

a husky rasp of laughter escapes baekhyun’s throat, and before you can even react, he’s pinning your wildly bucking hips down with one arm, his grip firm and unyielding. “don’t ya dare run away now,” he murmurs, his voice low and thick with lust. “you’re so cute when you’re like this, sweetheart. not done with you yet.”

the vibrations of his voice send a shockwave through you, dragging a fevered moan from your lips. “baek! baek! baek!” it spills out of you, louder with each crash of his soft tongue against your most sensitive spots. his tongue moves with precision, swirling over your clit—harder at the tip, softer at the curve—each flick making you writhe in desperate pleasure.

“yeah—yeah, yeah, yeah,” he groans, his words punctuated by the wet sounds of his tongue and your tight walls. “say my name like that.” his voice hisses with fervor, his tongue pushing deeper, straining against the way you’re squeezing him so tight it’s almost too much. every movement, every flick of his tongue, becomes a battle, but baekhyun’s determination is unwavering. it doesn’t matter if his fingers are cramping or his tongue is growing tired—he’s relentless. “louder.”

“b-baek!” you gasp, your body trembling under him, but the need for more has your hips grinding desperately against him.

“no, no.” his voice drops into a growl, and before you can process it, something cool and glossy hits your cunt in a harsh glob. you flinch, but baekhyun’s thumb is already pressing the slickness in, mixing it with the mess below. the obscene squelches fill the room, and your cheeks burn as your ears ring with the sound. “hear this, sweetheart?” he taunts, his gaze dark and focused on you, savoring the way your body reacts. “she’s louder than you.”

your eyes lock with his as he’s buried deep between your legs, his favorite position. the weight of his gaze, the intensity of his touch, it all sends you spiraling further into desire.

“my girl can be loud f’me, right?” he pulls back slightly, only to slam his tongue back in with a ferocity that makes your body shake. “say my name, sweetheart. say it loud so the whole fuckin’ island hears.”

“baek! fuckfuckfuck—’m close,” it's the last coherent thing you can manage to moan before everything inside you unravels. wave after wave of filthy pleasure crashes over you, so intense it leaves you breathless. your hands grip his hair tighter, using it to anchor yourself as you rock your hips, grinding down deeper, desperate for more. each flick of his tongue sends jolts of electricity through you, stars exploding behind your eyelids, making your body tremble uncontrollably.

baekhyun, utterly satisfied, falls silent, letting you take control as you ride his face through your high. you're completely lost in the sensation, dragging your slick, messy pussy over his tongue, over his mouth—again and again. each movement is a mixture of urgency and surrender, your body writhing as the pleasure pulses through you, until there's nothing left but the overwhelming heat of it all.

“baek,” you murmur, unable to tear your gaze away from the way his breath hitches at the mere sound of your voice. his body trembles, and you feel a rush of power course through you. “your turn.”

getting rid of baekhyun’s pants feels like an eternity, each moment stretching, tantalizingly slow. you’re gasping for air when he finally rids himself of his dress pants—along with those boxers, soaked with precum and clinging to his skin like a sin. the slick trail he leaves down his thighs, glistening and sticky, only makes your pulse spike.

and if you thought baekhyun was beautiful before, you realize in this moment, he’s nothing short of a masterpiece—his body a perfect blend of smooth muscle and raw need, carved with such sinful allure that you’re almost overwhelmed.

you can’t resist the temptation to wrap your palm around his throbbing length, feeling the pulse beneath your fingers as he jerks against your touch, a slick sheen of precum coating your hand. and your mind wanders, wondering just how he'd taste too—how it would feel to have all of him.

“hold on right there, my dirty girl,” baekhyun groans, his voice strained and desperate as he gently tilts your head, his lips pressing soft, heated kisses to yours. “as much as—fuck—you're squeezing me so tight, as much as this has been everything i dreamed of since that office ice cream party… i know i’m gonna cum the second you put that smart mouth on me, sweetheart.” his lips trail to your lower lip, sucking gently, possessively. “and you’ll never let me live that down, will you?”

you smirk, a playful glint in your eyes as you tease him, “not gonna let you live down that ice cream party, either, baek.”

his devilish smile flickers before he pulls you closer, steadying your hips with his hands as he pulls you into his lap. he spreads your legs wide, positioning you over his weeping tip, the heat of him already seeping into your skin. “oh, fuck off,” he mutters, voice thick with lust.

you hiss as you feel his warm breath against your sensitive pussy lips, the anticipation making you ache for more. “fuck you,” you retort, but it’s weak, shaky.

“no, sweetheart,” baekhyun chuckles darkly, his powerful thighs flexing as he plants his feet on the mattress, his body tense with anticipation. “i’m fucking you.”

and then, before you can even process the warning, he pushes—just the head of his cock, but it’s enough to make your body jerk with the force of it. the blunt, needy pressure of him fills you, and you gasp, barely able to contain the overwhelming sensation as he breaches you with a slow, relentless thrust.

he groans, his eyes struggling to roll back, unable to look away from the obscene way your swollen pussy lips stretch to take him in. each inch sinks deeper, your walls opening to welcome him, slick and needy. when you reach the tight resistance at your entrance, baekhyun’s breath hitches, his body twitching as he fights the urge to lose himself completely.

“fuuuck, just look at you,” he rasps, his voice a deep, guttural growl that has your walls clenching around him even tighter. the sound of his words sends a ripple through your body, making you mold even more perfectly to his shape. baekhyun throws his head back, a tortured groan escaping him as his balls tighten with every harsh slap of his hips against your ass. “shit, shit, shit—how that bastard had you... all to himself, and didn’t make this pretty pussy come every day? i’ll never understand.”

he pulls you down roughly, one hand locking at the back of your neck, tightening his grip. “so, why don’t we... rub it in his ugly face?”

the thought sends a wave of heat coursing through you. your hips stutter, grinding down to meet baekhyun’s punishing rhythm, your body arching into his with a desperate need that makes you ache for more. you can’t get enough, your movements driven by a hunger to feel him deeper, harder, completely consuming you.

his fingers, still lingering at your cunt, shift to tease your pulsing, sensitive nub, circling it with agonizing slowness. he plays with your clit between two fingers, a teasing pressure building that has you squirming beneath him. “can you hear how loud this pussy is?” he breathes, his voice rough, dripping with desire. “bet he can hear it too.”

and it’s true. the wet smacks of skin meeting skin are growing louder, messier, as the rhythm of baekhyun’s pounding cock becomes a maddening staccato. each thrust sends ripples through you, the squelching sounds of his movements amplifying the rawness of the moment.

but you refuse to be compliant, not yet. the familiar, buzzing heat of your climax starts to rise, teetering on the edge, but you want to break him just a little bit more. “nah, i don’t think he can,” you retort, a challenge in your voice.

“oh, you’re gonna fuckin’ regret that, sweets.”

baekhyun’s eyes darken, and you barely have time to register the shift before he’s using his strength to flip you, your back hitting the soaked sheets with a soft thud. he throws your legs over his shoulders, positioning himself with ease to plunge into you in a brutal, relentless mating press. he’s folding you into the new angle, and the change sends a sharp jolt of pleasure through you.

the angle shifts just enough for him to kiss your g-spot with each powerful thrust, the pressure bruising, marking you with every inch of him. it’s impossible to focus on anything else as he drills into you, his cock reaching deeper, harder, until he’s branding his name onto your sweet spots, pushing against your cervix with a force that’s unforgettable. he’s determined you won’t forget this, determined to leave his mark, so you can’t—won’t—forget.

“baek—” you squeal as his movements speed up, each thrust hitting you harder. you struggle to get the words out, your voice trembling with need, “baek, i’m close—”

“louder,” he grins, the command dripping with mischief. his hips are starting to burn with effort, his muscles tiring from the relentless pace, but he’s not about to let up—there’s still teasing to be done. “still can’t hear you.”

your voice is shot, barely a whisper as the pressure builds inside you, “baek, ’m gonna cum—”

“louder or ’m not gonna let ya,” he challenges, his breath ragged and unsteady.

“baek! fuck, fuck, fuck, ’m cumming!” you cry out, and before those desperate moans even leave your lips, it hits him—your walls clamp down on him, tight and slick, gripping him like a vice. your heels dig deeper into his shoulder, your nails raking down his pale skin in frantic, red-hot trails as you tighten around him, "'m cumming—ngh—"

and fuck, each slam of his hips is like electricity shooting up your spine, his rhythm unrelenting as he forces you through your orgasm, dragging it out until you feel like you might go insane from the intensity of it.

“god—fuck, you’re so—” baekhyun groans, the words dying on his lips as the pleasure takes over. it’s all he can manage before he’s cumming, thick ropes of his seed flooding into you with a brutal, consuming force. “so, so, so perfect f’me…”

with both hands lacing above your head, he pulls you impossibly deeper, grinding into you with each pulse, filling you to the brim. his body is out of control, his thrusts relentless, as he pumps wave after wave of his cum into you, like he’s trying to empty himself completely.

he shudders at the overspill, the excess of his release dripping from the corners of your sweet pussy, leaving a creamy ring around his tired base. too much, yet he continues thrusting mindlessly, the movements growing sloppier as he catches your lips in a lazy, passionate kiss. “at least we didn’t fuckin’ kill each other, right?”

you smile into the kiss, your hips moving languidly against his, “didn’t do—hngh—the neighbors any favors, either.”

“it’s jongin, who fuckin’ cares? ‘pathetic dick’, my ass.” baekhyun’s grin widens, loving the sight of your sweet smile, the way your eyes light up just because of him. his voice softens, drawing out the words with a lazy smirk, “y’know... since we’ve been locked up in this hotel for the past few days and we’ve got most of tomorrow, how about we actually do something fun before we leave?”

you nod eagerly, your legs tightening around his waist, and for a moment, everything blurs into a haze of heat and desire. shit, this might just be heaven. “definitely need a break after that contract. we deserve some fun after the fuckin’ week we’ve had.”

his forehead presses against yours, sticky with sweat, his breath coming out in shallow pants. “���fun’ is my middle name, baby.” his voice is unsteady, like he’s drunk off the way you’re looking at him, that familiar glare of yours knocking the air from his lungs. he chuckles, affection dripping from every word. “and we can use the company card too. minseok never even checks—”

you cut him off with a warning tone. “baek…” your brow arches, a familiar, irritated flicker of annoyance flashing across your face—the one he knows all too well. “don’t tell me you’ve been dipping into minseok’s card. he’ll kill you if he finds out. and that’s if i don’t kill you first.”

there’s a beat of silence.

“…baek…” you press, voice tinged with disbelief.

he hesitates, then, with a sly grin creeping up his face, mutters, “…is this a bad time to tell you i booked us that boat tour for tomorrow with it too?”

you stare at him, utterly deadpan. “yeah, you’re definitely getting pushed into the ocean tomorrow.”

ˏˋ ꒰ a/n ꒱ ˎˊ˗ happy new year my cute lil babies!!! i had the best time writing this lmaooooo especially all the baekhyun x reader dialogue. after my last fic i kinda wished i'd made the male rivalry part longer, so this one’s extra full of it lol <3333 as always let me know what you think :') hehe love you all n i hope 2025 brings u nothing but good vibes. can’t wait to keep writing for u guys this year, mwah love youuuuu all!

ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* masterlist ° ᡣ𐭩 . 

[phoebebuggers]

teaser preliminary thoughts

the opening scene being joyce and will talking about the vanishing of will byers was a very intentional choice - not only is will the central character this season, with a major plot point revolving around them discovering why and how will went missing and his connection to vecna (which i believe will also tie into holly's disappearance.) for a second i thought this could be a conversation about holly where joyce and will compare her being missing to what happened to will but i'm leaning toward no..it feels personal to me

the majority of the teaser was preexisting scenes, which i guess could be a little disappointing but it seemed like they wanted to ramp up the nostolgia with the st segment overall which is understandable for the show that "made" netflix. i also think we will be seeing those scenes with young will or maybe new ones from his disappearance as flashbacks anyways

edit: just realized i forgot this clip.. robin, will (*the* outfit!!) and erica in the background, not suure who's on the ledge behind joyce...someone let me know if you have a guess on what this wooden structure is, it almost looks like a stable or a barn. there's definitely some crazy shit behind that door, interesting that joyce seems to have a weapon and the other two do not. im really excited to see robin and joyce's dynamic (definitely see that playing a role in willl coming out)

i think there's a possibility that we'll see karen wheeler's character expanded on this season, possibly in tandem with the explanation for mike's behavior in the previous 2 seasons (the wheelers and conformity) as she takes on a role simillar to joyce in season 1. i'm wondering if this shot is before or after holly disappearing - also that one leak about karen getting injured (maybe in the process of protecting holly??) also, with the theme of conformity and ted wheeler generally sucking im wondering if his behavior this season will end up endangering the wheelers

definitely an emphasis on parent-child relationships this season (this is the third one we've seen). i think that we're going to see el and hopper working together in a way similar to the season 3 finale in a way that redeems that tragic ending, where hopper accepts that el isn't a kid who needs to be protected but a strong young woman who needs to be supported. i lowk have no idea what she's covering her ears about though, maybe coming down from projecting somewhere??

on the topic of hopper, rest in peace russia plotline, i have no idea how they're gonna resolve all that in hawkins lmao

seems like dustin is paired with the older teens again...which i lowk hate but it's kind of been that way since season 1 so i get it. i just don't understand the constant need to seperate him from the party. it looks like they might be in hawkins lab here, but i guess it could be anywhere

i was pretty much certain they were gonna show a shot like this in the teaser, max's coma is pretty much the biggest cliffhanger on the last season and they're going to continue to tease that. i love the coloring in this scene, i think we're gonna see lucas alone a lot this season in a more serious light than ever before (season 4 set the stage for this). i also don't see max getting a recovery until well into the second half of the season (but i do think she'll survive). i also think max is going to be up to a lot more than just laying in a hospital bed though, i really see her being able to reach el/vecna/will(?) through her mind and i think her and el will be paired a lot this season (maybe that's wishful thinking)

i think the two biggest mysteries they're hiding from audiences and shushing the cast about are whether max survives and whether byler is happening. and i think both of these things are happening...personally (notice that these two are the only couple shown together in the entire teaser).

this ss is bad but this is either two people (2 lights) or one person alone (1 flashlight and 1 lantern). i really want to know what that pink thing is, it almost looks like a head

mike is the heart of the party, blah blah blah....this shot really is so telling though like he's such a natural protector. i think we're reallly gonna see him return to his roots this season. it looks like the kids behind him are those new friends of erica's, and that's definitely joyce holding someone...they look too small to be will and i dont know why he would be hiding in the back like that anyway so i really dont know who that is. i think this definitely has to do with the vecna/mr whatsit plotline

im assuming erica is with this group as well but for some reason she isn't pictured. it seems like they're trying to introduce a kind of "new gen" of preteens this season which is a questionable choice for a finale but the duffers have always been good at getting us to care about new characters so i have faith.

finally will on his main character shit and the scream that was leaked - my working theory for this scene is that he's sensing something only he would know because of his connection to vecna and warning the other characters, possibly using himself as some kind of bait?? this is mostly a hunch tho. im not sure where he is here, it's definitely not the upside down but it looks kind of industrial?? the floor actually looks like to could be the same as the previous shot with mike but i dont think so

jonathan is getting absolutely ignored to my devastation, not a single feature unless he was the other character in that scene with joyce and the axe. i feel like he's one of the most likely characters to die but i really hope they do something interesting with him

nancy was also mia...we know she and jonathan are paired with steve and dustin at some point (car picture) but not sure what they're up to other than that nancy walk em down wheeler will be there im sure..

im down with the release schedule, we knew it was gonna be in parts and as a college student i am definitely glad it's during holidays/breaks because im going to want to watch asap. the wait might kill me though

on the topic of byler, i don't think this told us anything new but the fact that they didn't show mike with will or el at any point is good news in my opinion. will being front and center and mike taking a leadership role are signs to character development for both of them!!

[spdrwdw]

hi! I saw ur post abt accidentally deleting reqs and was scared since mine wasn’t answered yet (im not complaining bc ur other work is so so delicious to read 😍) anyways here it is. Ok imagine Miguel ohara being the heir to the mafia ‘throne(?)’ ima be so fr idk what they call it 💀 anyways and he’s in an arranged marriage w/ a girl from a diff mafia family as a way to make peace between the two families, except neither he or the girl are happy abt it. Enemies to lovers would just be majestic for the plot in my opinion 🤭. Anywaysssss thank u sm and remember to drink water 🫶🏻

Art by: Kimmy_art0912 Pairing: Mob Boss Miguel x Wife reader Warnings: Mentions of blood, very mild violence, no use of y/n Summary: You and Miguel come from different mafia families, forced to be married in order to form an alliance as threat from an outside. However, you and Miguel can only tolerate each other, at best. A/N: I swear I scratched and rewrote this like five different times.I am sorry it took so long. I am slowly making my way back into writing. I do thank anon and everyone else for their patience as I slowly make my way back to life and I will be writing more Miguel fics soon. I may do a part two to this, depending on interest recieved. I have been getting into mafia books so I am going to be looking into those for inspo if I do make more parts to this. Also, very very light editing was done. Word Count: 4.6k

Your family and the O’Hara’s have been enemies since your ancestors set foot into this country. Both immigrating from nothing but the clothes on their backs and pennies to their name. 

Your family started working in the food industry. Working in restaurants, bakeries, etc. Anything that had to do with food. Seven days a week. Working from twelve to fourteen hour shifts just to make ends meet. Your great great grandfather worked at the local deli as well as a restaurant. When he wasn’t cutting up meat, he was in the kitchen making food. Your great great grandmother worked at the neighborhood bakery as well as the tailors. Her dream was to make clothes- dresses. She wanted to be a fashion designer. She started taking classes at the local college once they saved up enough money to invest in her studies. 

Eventually, with their hard work and sacrifices, their dreams came true. Your family soon owned several restaurants as well as luxury boutiques. Everyone did their part in keeping the family businesses growing and going. 

At first, it was all simply honest work. Your family stayed humble and grateful for their dedication. Then, with your great grandfather, things took a slight turn. He wanted to expand and turn into construction. Nueva York continued to go and grow, with more people coming to try to make a living and a name for themselves. And in that mix, people with bad intentions also tagged along. The family businesses were in jeopardy of being taken over or shut down completely by these power-hungry thugs. He did not want that. So, he and the rest of the family banded together and began hiring people who would be willing to work for them and protect them, whether they were military vets, criminals, or even cops. Anyone who was willing to protect the family. 

Allyship with other mafia families also aided in the growth and protection. However, there was one family that yours always butted heads with. 

The O’Haras. They immigrated from Ireland around the same time your great great grandparents did. They built their own businesses, casinos, hotels, and clubs- and wanted their own power and a spot with the elites of the criminal world. 

At first, things were neutral between the two families. At one point, the two families were almost allies. However, one night, there was commotion going on at one of the O’Hara nightclubs. Members of your family got into a tussle with the O’Hara group and ended up being a blood bath, with both sides losing men. 

Ever since then, things were tense, and the bloodshed continued to grow as oppositions rose. 

No one really knew what it was that started the feud that night. Some suspected it had been over a woman. Others thought it was simply because some members were drunk and careless words were exchanged.

Either way, the rivalry continued on. Until a new threat entered the city. And there was no choice but to come together. 

—

It’s been six months since you moved into his house. Six months since you lost your freedom. Six months since you got married. To Miguel O’Hara. 

It all happened in an instant. First, you were out abroad, having recently gotten your first major job as a fashion designer in a luxury clothing company, wanting to be as successful as your great great grandmother, and now you were out on a little vacation to celebrate, when you received a call from your father, ordering you to come back home. 

You should’ve relished that Mediterranean breeze as long as you could, because once you got on that flight back home, your world was about to be flipped on its head. 

“I’m sorry…WHAT?!” You screeched at your father, you only looked at you with his calm, cool, distant, expression as he inhaled into his cigar.

“You’re getting married to Miguel O’Hara,” he repeated. 

“I heard what you said! But, why?!”

“The O’Haras had agreed to a truce. Kingpin is gaining on both of our families. We are losing men and traction left and right. We agreed by aligning our families together, we will gain strength in numbers and influence.”

“And you are shipping me off into an arranged marriage! This isn’t the medieval age or whatever! 

Plus, with Miguel?! At least have me marry Gabriel. He’s not an asshole like his brother.”

“Miguel is to become head of the O’Hara family as he is the first born. Plus, his determination has been promising.”

You let out a groan. You could not believe this was happening. You never wanted to get sucked into this life. That’s why you went off to college. To try to get away and make a life of your own. Your efforts were proven to be futile as you felt the rug be pulled from under you and you were being dragged along with it to the same life you were trying to escape. 

Your father’s eyes softened. A hint of sorrow filled them. 

“I know, sweetheart. This isn’t what I was hoping for you, either. But, it is the only way. We are running out of options. I am sure Miguel will take care of you, and you will be able to fulfill your dream of following your great great grandmother’s footsteps. I am sure she would be proud to have someone actively expanding her fashion legacy..”

You still shook your head. It was just too much for you to take in. Plus, wasn’t Miguel in a relationship with someone? Xina? No..they broke up months ago. That’s right. But, wait..he was seeing someone else? Ugh. The guy has a new girlfriend every other day.

Besides, you two did have a thing going on in the past. It wasn’t serious. Mainly the occasional hookups. You two were of rivaling families, after all. You both did have your reasons for disliking each other. So, the sex was pretty much hate sex? If that made sense. It wasn’t out of passion. Unless you could call hatred a passion.

Never did you think you’d actually be getting married to him. 

After the news broke out that you and Miguel were to be wedded, everything went by in such a blur. Preparations for the wedding. The actual wedding. The honeymoon- which was hardly a honeymoon because neither of you actually spent any time together. It was just too awkward, and you knew that he wasn’t happy with this arrangement as much as you were. 

When you first moved into his house, you wanted to sleep in a separate room from him, and he agreed. However, when both of your parents found out about this, they were all livid. 

“How will you two get to know each other more and become intimate with each other if you are sleeping in separate beds?” Your mom cried one day when she came to visit you. You assured her there would be other situations where you and your husband would bond. Public situations where you’d be surrounded by other people and talking to those people rather than each other. 

You two simply avoided each other as much as possible. And during the times when you two were together, your company was either met with silence or bickering. And sometimes even being at each other’s throats. 

He would call you names like ‘immature’ ‘wild’ ‘rowdy’ and so on, simply because you refused to listen to him whenever he demanded something from you. 

You’d retaliate and tell him that he was controlling and a perfectionist. Because well, he was. He had to have things done a certain way or it would ensue chaos. And while he was right about you being a little more rowdy and wild, it was simply because you had the luxury of growing somewhat more normal. Your parents did not drill the life of the mafia into your head the same way it was drilled into Miguel’s. Which is why you both clashed when trying to communicate with each other. 

Right now, you were at home in the library. You spend a lot of time there, and while Miguel’s taste in reading wasn’t usually to your taste, you’d sometimes find yourself reading some of the novels that he was currently reading, as well as reading some that you’ve been purchasing and adding to the collection. 

Which reminded you, you had to head over to the mall and purchase the next book of a spicy romance series you’d been reading. As well as look for an outfit to wear at the next charity event you and Miguel would be attending. 

One of the few things you liked about Miguel was that he was very generous and active in the community, helping those less fortunate.

Placing the book down, you rubbed your bag and keys and decided to head out for a bit. Saying goodbye to the house staff as you walked past them, you made your way to the garage, which housed Miguel’s collection of cars, ranging from vintage to sporty and modern to big black suvs that you’d use whenever a bodyguard was transporting you somewhere, like parties. You never understood why someone needed so many cars but, whatever, as long as it wasn’t your money being spent. 

You made your way over to your car, glad that you were able to bring it with you when you got married. It was your baby. One of the few things you were able to bring with you. 

Glancing over at the clock on the dashboard, you bit your bottom lip. You should have enough time to purchase some books before heading off to your parents for a bit. You did promise them you would show up. They were planning lunch for you. It was your birthday today, after all. 

—

Miguel stood in front of the battered man that kneeled before him, hearing the groaning of pain coming from their mouth as blood pooled around the cement floor. 

Miguel’s knuckles were bleeding. But, it wasn’t his own blood, but the blood of the poor bastard that withered before him. Miguel didn’t like to use violence. He thought it was a primitive way of negotiating with his enemies. However, there were times when a little violence was necessary to get his point across. And to send a message. 

Why was this man being battered like a sack of potatoes? 

The man spat blood, a tooth or two flying out with the glob of blood as he remained strapped to his chair. His face was covered in blood. Beat up and mangled by the hands of the tall, brooding man before him. 

Miguel slowly knelt down before the man, taking a fistful of his hair, forcing him to look up into his almost amber eyes. 

“ Eres un demonio! (You're a demon). Not even the devil himself will want you!” the man spat, a glob of blood landing on Miguel’s cheek.

Miguel let out a hum of disinterest. His eyes lacked any life in them. However, this was when he felt the most alive, seeing his enemies cowering and crumbling before him. 

He took out a handkerchief from his breast pocket and cleaned the blood from his cheek before tossing the now soiled material at the man’s feet. 

“I take that as a compliment, you know. Maybe I want the devil himself to fear me.”

Miguel took out a cigar from his coat pocket and lit it before giving it a deep inhale and exhaled a heavy cloud of smoke at the man’s face. He couldn't believe that one of Kingpin's goons had infiltrated his circle and posed himself as someone who could've been trusted. Miguel was definitely going to send that fat son of a bitch a message, by killing this guy and sending his corpse back to Kingpin's front door. 

Not only that, but it also meant that they were going to have to redo background checks on everyone working for the O’Haras. That was going to be a pain in the ass.

"Gabriel! Hand me my gun," Miguel called out to his brother.

Gabriel, Peter, and Ben were all standing several feet behind Miguel, all watching as their boss beat and battered the man before them. 

Gabriel was Miguel’s right hand now that their father had stepped down as head of the O’Hara family. Many thought Gabriel was going to take charge, however, Miguel was much more brutal and cut-throat than Gabriel. It made sense for Miguel to take up the mantle, despite him being an illegitimate son. 

Plus, Gabriel preferred being on the sidelines instead of making the decisions. 

Gabriel made his way over to his older brother, handing him the gun before stepping back to his original spot. 

“Now. We can do this the easy way. Where I ask you a couple of questions and answer them. Or, we can do this the hard way, when I ask you said questions and if you refuse to answer them, I get to shoot you anywhere I want.”

”I would rather you just shoot me! I will never answer to you!” The man croaked. 

“You never got shot before, have you?” Miguel hummed as he removed the safety from the gun and cocked it before pulling the trigger, shooting the man on the foot. 

The man let out a screeching howl as he thrashed on the chair, letting out a series of curses. 

Miguel simply nodded his head. “That’s what I thought. So..shall we begin?”

The whole ordeal took only a matter of minutes, as Miguel wasted no time in trying to get his questions answered. The man was not sitting lifeless on the chair as bullet holes decorated his body. 

Kingpin had sent a lower ranked grunt to spy on them, trying to scope up any valuable information to report back to his true boss. Unfortunately for Kingpin, those in the lower ranks didn’t really get to be part of the action and behind-closed door discussions, so, this man’s life was unnecessarily wasted. 

“Send his body back to Kingpin. Just leave him on his doorstep,” Miguel said as he examined his suit, letting out a grunt when he saw small splatters of blood. He was going to have to go home and change. “Will do. You should start heading back home. I am sure you wife is waiting for you,” Gabriel said as Peter and Ben began placing the body into a black body bag and carried him out to the waiting pick-up truck. 

Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn’t hate you, but he knew that you hated him. And you had every right. You got married to him out of force, and while that wasn’t necessarily his fault, he didn’t blame you for holding a grudge on him. 

“Keep me posted on any activity. I need updated background checks on everyone working for us. We can’t let anyone else slip through the cracks,” Miguel stated as he made his way over to his car, with his brother following behind him. Gabriel nodded his head as he watched his brother leave. 

He had to make sure no on in his inner circle was actually working for Kingpin. Is someone indeed was, might as well just shut everything down then and there. 

No. Miguel wouldn’t give up just like that. He would just have to work harder and steer Kingpin off track. 

But, for the time being, his main goal was to get back home and get to his wife. It was your birthday, after all.

–

You spent the majority of the day with your parents. You had gone over to your former home- which you still miss deeply. It was such a stark contrast from where you lived now. There was just so much character, so much history in this house. It was the same house your great great grandfather had bought as a gift to his lovely wife, your great great grandmother, once their businesses were booming.

It had twelve bedrooms and sixteen bathrooms. A library where your mother would take you to read. When you were young, you’d pick out a book for your mother to read to you in bed. Mainly a fairy tale story. 

You always thought your life would be a fairy tale. You always imagined yourself as the princess or heroine, going on adventures and falling in love. However, the universe was not like those in the stories. Maybe in an alternate universe. But, not in this one. 

Instead, you were forced to marry the enemy in hopes of forming an alliance. Which, depending on how you looked at it, could’ve been seen as a fairytale. It didn’t feel like it. You weren’t in love with Miguel. You tolerated each other at best. Plus, you guys had shared history which made things pretty awkward at times. 

—-

You were back home, waiting for your darling husband to come home and wish you a Happy Birthday. He also supposedly promised to take you out to dinner. It was really an attempt for you two to get somewhat closer together. But, you weren’t sure how well that would play out. You both liked to push each other’s buttons. You were sure it would occur tonight. And honestly, you wouldn’t want to have it any other way. You wanted to be a thorn on his side. He was always so full of himself. Always thought himself to be this bigshot. Untouchable. Unweavered. You loved proving him wrong. 

You continued to wait and wait. The house staff had left for the night, including Miss Cheryl, your personally favorite housekeeper. She was an older woman, possibly in her mid-fifties. You never cared to ask her- mainly because you didn’t want to be rude and you actually liked her. 

Looking up at the clock in Miguel’s office, you saw that it was already seven thirty in the evening. Reservations were supposedly made for eight. Miguel had thirty minutes to get there. 

A part of you didn’t really care if he had forgotten or just waved it off. You didn’t want to force yourself to be nice with him, because who knew, you might just throw a glass of wine at him just as you did during your wedding reception.

You could hear a chime coming from the Alexa that rested on Miguel’s desk, signaling that someone had entered the house. 

Finally. You honestly thought he wasn’t going to come. 

Raising from his chair, you decided to go ahead and greet your husband. 

He was making his way upstairs as you made your way down the hallway, both of you making eye contact. 

“You’re late. I thought you weren’t going to come,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. 

As Miguel stepped closer, you could notice blood splattered on his white shirt. 

“I know. Let me get changed real quick,” he replied as he walked past you. 

You knew Miguel had a way of dealing with those who wronged him. You have seen his blood-stained knuckles, bloodied shirts and a dangerous look in his eyes. It’s pretty much like in the movies. Some poor unlucky soul gets tortured to death by the boss or someone higher up. You’d like to think that Miguel isn’t simply killing people just because of blood-lust. While it wasn’t your business to judge, you didn’t want to be married to someone who is a little too eager to get blood on his hands. 

You made your way to his room, standing by the door as you watched Miguel slip on a fresh pair of pants and button-up shirt, something more suitable for dinner. Once he was finished, he took another look at you, furrowing his brows a bit. 

“What?” You questioned. 

“What are you wearing?” 

“What do you mean ‘what are you wearing’?” You asked, looking down at your dress. 

“Don’t you think that’s too revealing?” He asked. 

“What? Revealing? Where? Don’t tell me showing a little leg and shoulder is prohibited. Come on! This is the height of fashion right now, as well as demonstrating body positivity.” Miguel simply gave you a look as if in disgust. Not for the body positivity part. But rather your fashion choices. He was aware of your family’s success in the fashion industry. He even applauded it. But, he was also a  man with much simpler tastes. Tastes that you would sometimes groan over. 

“Well, I’m not changing, so let’s just get going,” you said as you grabbed a shawl to compliment your dress, and to shut Miguel up. 

The ride to the restaurant was quiet, save for the music that was playing on the radio. You two had very different music tastes. Not surprising. Sometimes you’d change the station or hook up your phone to Bluetooth. But, you tried to sit back and let him listen to his music this time. 

When you two managed to get there, Miguel stopped in front of the valet and got out. The valet driver in-waiting opened the car door for you to help you get out as Miguel rounded the car, handing the keys over to the young man who then took the sleek black suv to the parking garage. 

He gave you his arm to take. It had become routine. Show some sort of display of affection while in public. You never knew who could be watching. Sometimes cameras would pop out in front of you two. 

The proposal was rushed. The engagement. The wedding. People grew suspicious, and rightfully so. Your families quickly came up with a story of how you and Miguel were seeing each other in secret despite the rivalry of the families. The alleged secrecy of romance and hurried marriage gave you two the the title of Romeo and Juliet. Two star-crossed lovers who went against all odds just to be together despite your families and their differences. But, unlike the story, your ending didn’t result in a double-suicide, but rather acceptance, wedding bells, and peace between the two families. Everyone bought it. Well..almost everyone. 

As you two made your way inside and were greeted by the hostess, you were taken to a more secluded area of the restaurant. There, the table had been set up especially for you. A bottle of wine rested over a bed of ice, candles were lit on the table, as well as around the perimeter of your area. It would have been romantic, had you actually had romantic feelings for Miguel.

Still, he was a gentleman and he did go out of his way to reserve a nice place for you.

 He pulled a chair out for you to sit and scooted you in before taking his seat across from you. The music from a live pianist in the main dining hall still reached your private area. Had it not been for them, the room would’ve been dead silent as you and Miguel silently looked through your menus. 

“Can I pour you a glass of your wine?” A waitress asked onceshe approached your table. She was young. Tall and thin with big blue eyes and blonde hair tied up in a ponytail. And wearing way too much makeup. At least for your tastes. 

You could see how she was looking at Miguel, batting her fake eyelashes. You thought they were either going to fall off or send her flying away. Either way, you simply rolled your eyes. You didn’t care if Miguel got hit on, but come on, at least not while you were right there to see. 

“Yes, thank you,” Miguel said, giving her a charming smile. It made you roll our eyes again. Yes, he was being polite and all, but you could see right through him. 

“Can I offer you both an appetizer to start?” She then asked, still looking over at Miguel. 

Miguel then looked over to you, giving you a nod. “Would you like something to start with?”

”Yes, actually. Some bread for the table. they usually bring it out at the beginning,” you started. Which was true. You were just trying to be a little petty. 

“And how about some crab cakes and a salad for the table?”

The waitress nodded her head, her smile now a straight line. So straight, you could swipe your card through it like a card reader. 

“Yes, of course. I will put those in for you and bring you your bread,” she said before leaving the table. 

You simply rolled your eyes once again as you settled back against your seat. 

“How was lunch with your family?” Miguel then asked, trying to make conversation. 

“It was fine,” you responded. Usually, your responses would be short, and Miguel wouldn’t entertain the topic further. You knew you should at least try to get along with him, giving that you are married and that you will be spending the rest of your life with him. You simply assumed that it just hadn’t kicked in yet. You were going to try, though. 

One day.

“Ah, Mr. O’Hara! Mrs. O’Hara! A pleasure to see you two here tonight!” Someone behind you exclaimed. You could hear their heavy footsteps before turning around and seeing the owner and head chef of the restaurant. “Javier. A pleasure to see you,” Miguel said. “We were just celebrating my wife’s birthday.” “Ah! Of course! Happy birthday, Mrs. O’Hara. You look as stunning as ever,” Javier exclaimed. The man was five foot three, a mix of tan to sunburned skin, and all round. He kind of reminded you of the Pillsbury mascot. He looked so squishable and jolly. 

“Actually, Javier. Would you mind me having a word with you, real quick?” Miguel then asked, scooted his chair back from the table and stood, easily towering over the man. 

“O-oh! O-of cours! Of course! Come, come! Let’s step to the side,” Javier stated, now looking a little nervous as he led Miguel out of the room, leaving you alone. 

All while Miguel was having his private conversation with Javier, the waitress came back with the bread and appetizers. 

“We are going to need a couple of minutes,” you stated as she placed everything onto the tables. 

“Of course! I’ll make my way back around in a few minutes,” the waitress said, giving you a tight-lipped smile.  

You tried your best to not roll your eyes at her again as she left. Letting out a sigh, you decided to dig into the bread and appetizers. You sure weren’t going to wait for Miguel to come back to start eating. You never waited for him. Not because you didn’t want to, but because you knew you’d be waiting forever for him. 

–

Soon enough, you were back home. You were still slightly curious about the conversation Miguel had with Chef Javier. But, you didn’t think you should press Miguel about it. Some things were meant to be kept in private. Besides, you wanted no part of this whole mafia stuff. It had stolen so much of your freedom already. You wanted to remain ignorant of what goes on behind closed doors as much as possible. 

You both made your way upstairs, neither of you speaking as you made your way to your rooms for the night. 

Tomorrow you were planning on heading over to the boutique. Your cousin was currently operating it and sometimes you’d go to help her out. It helped you get out of the house every once in a while. Plus, you were usually filled with inspiration when you were surrounded by your family’s clothing. You were still working on your portfolio to give out to various companies, in hopes they would hire you. 

You were confident that they would. You were talented. Plus, you have your family’s name to back you up. Now, all you had to do was to make sure you get a good night’s rest so you could get up refreshed. 

[novlr]

Do you have any posts on turning a book into a series, and/or deciding how many books the series should be? I searched but couldn't really find anything. Im plotting my story and not sure how to split it up into how many books if I decide it's too much for a stand alone. Do I just go with trilogy? Thought there are many authors who have like 5-10 books. How do I know?

The choice between writing a standalone novel or committing to develop a series isn’t always straightforward. While some stories naturally lend themselves to multiple books, others work best as self-contained narratives. So what do you have to think about to actually make these decisions?

Signs your story might work better as a series

Complex worldbuilding

If you’ve built an intricate fictional world with multiple cultures, magic systems, or technological innovations that you can’t fully explore in a single book without overwhelming readers, you might have series potential.

Multiple major story arcs

When you have several significant plotlines that feel rushed or cramped into one book, or story threads that naturally extend beyond your story’s major conflict, this could show series potential.

Character development opportunities

If your characters have growth trajectories that would feel unrealistic or rushed within a single book, or if you have multiple interesting characters whose stories deserve more content, a series might be best.

Scope of conflict

Stories with conflicts that escalate naturally or reveal larger implications beyond the initial problem often work well as series.

Signs your story might work better as a standalone

Single central conflict

If your story revolves around one main conflict that can be satisfyingly resolved in a single book, it might be better as a standalone.

Focused character arc

When your protagonist’s journey has a clear beginning, middle, and end that rarely spawns new questions or conflicts, consider keeping it standalone.

Contained story world

If your world-building serves the immediate story without requiring extensive exploration of other aspects, it might not need expansion into a series.

Thematic resolution

When your theme can be fully explored and resolved in one book, forcing it into a series might dilute its impact and spread the story too thin to remain interesting.

How to decide the number of books

If you’ve decided your story would work better as a series, consider these factors when deciding length:

Natural breaking points: Look for places where your story has significant shifts in conflict, setting, or character development.

Story complexity: More complex narratives might need more books to do justice to all the elements.

Market considerations: While you shouldn’t write for marketing alone, if you plan to publishing, be aware that publishers and audiences often prefer certain series lengths for different genres.

Story structure: Some narratives naturally fall into traditional structures:

Trilogy (three acts)

Duology (two-part story)

Quartet (four interconnected arcs)

Longer series (episodic adventures or expanding scope)

Questions to ask yourself

Can your story be told effectively in one book without sacrificing depth or rushing important elements?

Do you have enough material for multiple books without resorting to filler?

Are your subplots and secondary characters strong enough to sustain reader interest across multiple books?

Does each potential book have its own complete arc while contributing to the larger story?

Are you personally invested enough in the world and characters to spend years developing multiple books?

Remember that there’s no universally “right” answer. Some stories that started as standalone books often grow into series (think crime series that tell self-contained stories but use the same protagonist throughout), while others that originally released as series are often condensed into a single volume for a better reader experience (like Ursula Le Guin’s Earthsea Quartet, or Susan Cooper’s The Dark Is Rising series).

Let your story guide you. Don’t force a standalone into a series just because series are popular, and don’t compress a story that needs room to breathe just to fit it into one book. Focus on telling your story in the most effective way possible, and the right format will often become clear during the writing process.

Whether you choose to write a standalone book or a series, make sure each book can stand on its own merits while serving the larger story you want to tell.

[pangaeaseas]

gotta love the structure of scholomance. it is in my opinion such a well structured trilogy. now i've read a lot of this author's work inc. most of temeraire (gotta read spinning silver and uprooted at some point!) and I know that often it doesn't follow the most predictable pacing--twists come when you don't necessarily expect them and the series could have gone rocketing off in any number of directions. but this isn't temeraire and it isn't a novella, it's a trilogy, which demands careful thought to what function each of the three books serves, and in my opinion does this very well. (actually reminds me somewhat of the hunger games but not going to elaborate and not a perfect comparison)

so. book one. book one must do something very crucial in any trilogy which is that it must set up the main conflict, set up the characters, and most crucially sell us on the premise. and A Deadly Education knocks the premise out of the park, even as it sows the seeds of destabilizing that same premise. It also gives us a book-length character arc that begins El and Orion's growth. It makes the rules of the world, so the rest of the trilogy can break them.

book two: we know what the scholomance is. We expect the main conflict to be El and Orion having to graduate, because we've just spent a whole book doing that. Personally I was expecting some kind of twist with the graduation, but not the scale of that twist: I expected the first twist, not the second. anyway. so book two serves the important purpose of UNDOING the premise. we know how this world normally functions. Now let's change it--and also get El and Orion to the places they need to be. This also means that their relationship has its honeymoon period, because book three needs them to have loved each other.

book three: we're changing the world. of course not the way we expect. and a good deal of the lore info needs to be dropped here because they are finally out of the initial premise, the scholomance itself, and now we need to see the rest of this society. (and then tear it down). and also resolve the plot and character threads dangling since book one, such as the prophecy. the main premise has been altered and executed, it now must be expanded. and then it has to come to some sort of resolution. happy ending, except the work isn't done, and it will be the rest of their lives (take that harry potter epilogue). there is no main villain to be defeated the villain is like their magic system. the selfish nature of humanity. everyone lives, because this whole series is about no one deserving to die.

each book/act does its job very well in making the series work.

ok so this isn't particularly groundbreaking or coherent meta but I just love this series and I love how the structure works so :/ here you go.

[thr0wnawayy]

Imo the League of Villains should have never existed from the main story of MHA. They were utterly unbalanced and were so flawed that no attempt of fixing could fix them.

I get where your coming from. I

I honestly believe the LOV really needed was time to grow away from the spotlight.

Think of the LOV as leftover pizza (I know, just stick with me for a minute)

Too long in the microwave/oven/pan and it tastes like hardback, too little and it becomes soggy muddled. There's a very specific way you need to do things and that's by not overthinking it.

Hori kept the microwave on too long and the LOV's potential evaporated.

From what I can tell, MHA worked best when it had a 'Villain of the week's type of thing going on.

This was most prominent and best set up with Stain, Stain's character/arc not only expanded the world of MHA but also brought up deeper questions about Hero society

What's most important here is that Stain didn't overstay his welcome. He rolled in, made every panel count and then went out like a champ. Affecting the protagonist and those around him.

He had an impact that's felt throughout the rest of the series (There is no Internship Arc in Ba Sing Se) not inspite of his short lived presence but because of it.

At some point, Hori lost this concept and the plot went with it.

I think the main problem with the LOV started after Kamino. Before this, every member has solid, or at least tangible ideals.

The Vanguard Action Squad was the LOV at it's most raw, not perfect but functional. They felt like people, when Spinner stops Magne from pursuing Midoriya, it feels real for the world.

Simply put the LOV (much like 1A) worked best as individuals, differing worldviews and all.

So when Hori robbed the LOV of their autonomy by practically wrangling them to Shigaraki, it in turn killed the LOV, because now nothing was individual about them.

If you want an example, how about Magne's death. Her last words are the very last time anyone in the LOV asserts any belief besides Shigaraki's own.

After this the LOV barely give any resistance to Shigaraki's plans no matter how short sighted or convoluted.

Kurogiri is outright sacrificed by the narrative so that Shigaraki finally has to step up.

Shigaraki's reaction to Toga's rage and grief follwing Magne's death can be amounted to: "Trust me bro, we're doing this for us bro, please believe me bro."

It's absurd.

As for being flawed, I'll assume you mean their motives.

What needs to be understood is that the LOV (Pre Kamino) and the PLF (Post Kamino) are not the same characters

Flanderisation is the phenomenon of a characters worst traits being exacerbated over a period of time until said character is unrecognizable from their original self.

This is what Hori did the LOV and he did this intentionally.

At some point he realized that the Villains actually had more of a point than the heroes, this likely occured after the MVA arc when fans began rooting for the LOV.

To counter this Hori sabotaged multiple characters and plots in a desperate attempt to justify his woolies and unfortunately for everyone who's isn't an abuser-stan (Enji and Bakuo). The rest of the cast and world suffered greatly.

What you ended up with are characters so detached from their origins that they might as well not even be the same characters at all.

There's an image somewhere that encapsulates this perfectly, it's a 4 panel comic with two stick figures (one black and one blue). If I ever find it or someone links it I'll be sure to upload it here

[bookshelf-in-progress]

What If? is the question that drives most retellings. This works best with the well-known fairy tales. Everyone knows the original story, so readers will be interested in how you twist it.

You can change

Plot: What if Cinderella didn't go to the ball?

Character: What if Snow White was evil?

Setting/Genre: What if Sleeping Beauty was set on a spaceship?

Theme: What if Beauty and the Beast was about family love instead of romance?

There's a variation of the plot What If? that asks:

What's Next?: What happens after Cinderella marries the prince?

In this case, you're writing a sequel. The fairy tale is backstory, and your story is something new.

There's also a mash-up What If? that asks:

What if these two stories were combined?: What if the prince in Cinderella was also the Beast in Beauty and the Beast?

Here, the readers are pulled through the story because they want to see how the plot and characters of these stories fit together into something new.

In all these cases, What If? is the question that motivates your readers. They want to see how your changes make for a different story.

With traditional retellings, you have to ask different questions. You want to tell a story with the same plot, characters, and setting as the original--maybe because you love the original story so much, maybe because you're retelling an obscure tale. But then what's the point of your story? What question are you going to answer in a way that can't be satisfied by reading the original tale?

The questions that work best here are:

Why?: In fairy tales, things usually happen "just because". There's very little explanation of why events happen a certain way or why characters act the way they do. Asking Why? allows your story to give an answer that explains confusing or ambiguous points in the original story.

Who?: Fairy tales don't dig very deeply into the psychology of their characters. A retelling allows you to enter into the perspective of one of the characters and explore what it would be like to live through the events of the story. What kind of person acts the way this character does? What fears and hopes motivate them? What do they think about the events of the story?

There's a variation of Who? that asks:

Who is telling the story?: This is your classic POV switch. Your story can have the same plot, setting, and characters as the original, but if you focus on the viewpoint of someone other than the traditional main character--the love interest, the villain, a side character, a confused bystander--you can wind up with a very different, sometimes almost entirely original story.

Almost every retelling needs to answer at least one Why? question. Even if it's a minor plot point, your story should offer a clarification or a rationale behind some element of the original. Asking Who? is a great way to expand upon the fairy tale and make it something more psychologically complex. First-person point-of-view is very helpful in this case, because it instantly adds something new to your telling of the story, even if you follow every beat of the original tale.

What If? retellings also need to answer Why? and Who?, but they're not the driving force in the same way that they have to be for traditional retellings. What If? allows for a twist that's the driving force behind the story, but when you're not changing anything, the depth that Why? and Who? provide is crucial to making your story feel new.

[fantasy-anatomy-analyst]

I hear some stuff about writing that doesn’t have believable or meaningful cultural differences when it comes to fantasy settings/cultures, so i want to ask: what exactly makes a culture meaningfully distinct? what differences in a culture make sense, or lack of differences that don’t? just like where do i start with all that it seems complicated

Disclaimer that I am a white american, so like I don't think im an expert on this lol a lot of other people probably have more to add with actual personal experience in seeing their own cultures crop up as bastardized fantasy cultures, possibly mixed up with a few other cultures as well. I am opening this up to my followers! Please add your opinions!

The first thing to note about fantasy culture is that it can be difficult to create a new culture entirely from scratch without taking ideas from real cultures, because of course the only references we have are real world human cultures! So step number one in writing a new cukture is to give yourself some grace, because you're going to end up with some details that might seem similar to any number of real cultures, and that in itself is not inherently a bad thing. It's not appropriative, for example, to write a fantasy culture that has some important dances involving some form of costume with masks. This concept alone can be found in several real cultures around the world because people like to use music and dance and costuming in order to tell stories, some of which even have religious significance.

But if, say, you find yourself directly referencing more specific real like cultural dances in this category, copying their styles and even taking the stories they tell with those dances, you should probably step back and rethink it.

A personal example: there is a dance in the opening chapters of my current story draft. It is an orcish funeral dance, in which a raven-like bird is shown guiding the spirit of the deceased person to the afterlife. Costumes and masks are used in this dance. But I also know that the real life Native American cultures in my own area have raven dances that tell specific stories about a sacred raven figure. So when I design the dance costumes and try to describe the dance in my story, i do my best to avoid copying real life raven dances. Am I perfect at it? Absolutely not. But I am trying.

And it helps to build up your fantasy cultures as whole interconnected things, not just disconnected pieces of things that seem cool or only support one or two plot points and have no other impact.

But I think maybe am diving in a little too deep too quick here, so let me back up.

I interpreted this ask at first about making fantasy cultures distinct from real world cultures, but the other interpretation is making fantasy cultures distinct from each other within their settings. Which is equally important!

For example, while in fantasy it is useful to kinda lump your people groups up as species (elves have elf culture, orcs have orc culture) it is also a good idea to vary them somewhat (elves from location A have a different culture than elves from location B, even though they share the same cultural ancestry and have more in common than they do with orc cultures)

Making these cultures meaningfully distinct, to me, means they feel organic and alive and not like cardboard cutouts reusing the same stock ideas every time. Which is not to say that you can't use the same ideas that are commonly used with things like elves and orcs, but that you should explore deeper and figure out what you personally enjoy about those fantasy folks and then expand on it.

The thing about culture is that it affects every aspect of people's lives. So your fantasy cultures also need to do that!

One common example I see is worldbuilding that has a surface level attempt to make a fantasy world modern and feminist by just having some female deities and putting female characters in leadership roles. But then immediately under the surface they're still using very patriarchal and sexist details that line up with exactly the real world they've grown up in. It's a lack of deeper thought. What does it actually mean for these fictional people to worship a goddess? Why if they're ruled by a matriarchal figure are they still degrading the role of motherhood and treating women as lesser than men? And why does the female protagonist feel like a #feminist not-like-other-girls girlboss from a Twitter thread? (This one is a major pet peeve of mine, can u tell)

Hmm I feel like i am saying an awful lot but I don't know if I have actually answered the question.

Let's go back to "how do I start?" Because I think that is the most important detail, right? Where do you begin to write distinct fantasy cultures that isn't just a list of "well here is some stuff other people do wrong" or "don't copy real world cultures".

Start with two groups of fantasy people. They don't have to be related.

What are their physical traits? Are they human or something else? What environment do they live in? What resources are available to them?

With those resources, what can they make? What do they eat? How do they gather the resources they have access to?

What do they consider to be important? How does thus affect their social structure? Their form of government? Their spiritual beliefs? Do they value wealth? How does that look for them?

You'll want to explore several different cultural topics and connect them back to these central questions. Some important topics are clothing and accessories, transportation, architecture, cuisine, and entertainment.

If your two people groups live in separate environments and/or are different species, it will be easier to create unique distinctions between their cultures. But if they are the same species in the same environment, they may share some cultural foundations and differ more in things like spiritual practices and social structures (like government). The important thing to keep in mind is that the details of their culture will effect every part of their lives, so you need to create consistent rules for how to write them.

Also, people who interact with each other will end up influencing each other in one way or another. How do these two groups interact? What do they trade? Are they allies or enemies? Does either group oppress the other? What does that look like in this case?

And then of course you can repeat this process as much as you like with more groups in your world. And don't be afraid to research real life cultures! You do actually want to know what's common in particular environments. Like for example, what clothing styles are most common in arid environments? How about cold environments? What animals and plants are available as resources in a temperate forest?

I think a lot of us are tired of seeing desert dwelling fantasy people who wear skimpy outfits that would actually give them serious sunburns and heat stroke, for example. Please stop doing that.

I have also seen some newly popular fantasy books that give absolutely zero consideration to what the people in their worlds would actually have access to and know about. Like a woman living in a fantasy desert surrounded by sand and suffering through a near constant drought, with no mention of any other countries with more fertile land, should not be able to easily access any grain based alcohol while complaining of a lack of water rations. She also should not just casually make reference to a "feast day turkey". Girl what turkey. What whiskey. You don't have those things. You live in a place that resembles Tattooine. (Sorry, more pet peeves)

Just put some actual thought into your fictional cultures and be genuinely curious about it! If you're having fun with it, exploring all the options and making it consistently cohesive, it will read fine. Also just have the chutzpah to pull it off. A fantasy world that unapologetically and enthusiastically puts a lamp post in the middle of a forest is better written than one that seems to just copy every common vaguely-old-fashioned-western-europe fantasy setting that has ever been written and never does anything new or fun with it.

Your elves can still be nigh immortal forest people who do archery, your orcs can still be big buff warrior types, but you gotta find a way to make them your own and have some fun with it.

[literary-illuminati]

2025 Book Review #27 – Service Model by Adrian Tchaikovsky

I am quite a big fan of Tchaikovsky’s – I’m on record as saying the Children of Time trilogy is the best star trek since at least Deep Space Nine – and generally try to keep an eye out for his new releases. However, the man writes a truly obscene pace, and this is one of the books which just entirely fell through the cracks for me until it picked up a hugo nomination. Along with everything else he wrote in 20244, apparently. It actually is a really very excellent book and deserves the nomination entirely, even if on a deep and fundamental level I feel like an author getting multiple nominations for the same category is cheating somehow.

The book follows (initially) Charles, an incredibly advanced valet-bot designed and engineered to perfection to act as the human-oriented interface and chief servant managing his master’s life and relationship with his sprawling automated household. Despite his master’s lack of complex social calendar, disinterest in excursions or complex engagements, or really activity of any sort, he serves him for years, diligently and efficiently. All until one day when, for no reason and for no purpose he is able to understand despite extensive self-examination, he slits his master’s throat while shaving him. This sudden break in routine – despite his best efforts – requires reaching out to life outside the manicured manorial estate upon which he has been employed. That world quickly proves to be in a bit of a bad state itself, with robotic police inspectors and medical examiners trapped into Kafkesque bureaucratic loops after all the humans their program requires performing for and reporting to were retired for reasons of efficiency. Generously interpreting what he was told as an injunction to report to Central Diagnostics and discover went wrong, the no-longer-Charles (the name was part of his employment at the manor) journeys out into the shockingly desolate world trying to get himself repaired and (or, failing that) given new employment where he might again fulfill his purpose.

The story from that point on consists of a few different episodes involving Uncharles (and his accidental companion, the shockingly idiosyncratic and defective robot and absolutely not a human in a metal suit, who goes by ‘the Wonk’) arriving at a new location where he hopes to find potential employment as a gentleman’s valet (though his standards rapidly start slipping). Each set piece is separated from the others by a short vignette explaining the travel between them and there are, besides those two, many connections but exceptionally few recurring characters of any kind. The episodes each work quite well as short stories in their own right, and each does a decent-to-amazing job expanding on the characters and the themes Tchaikovsky is aiming at. The ending is, I think, a bit dissonant with the first acts of the book and in a way that weakens the whole – but then I have at this point just accepted that I’m basically impossible to please as far as endings for big theme-first stories like this go.

And this is very much a theme-first story – an entry in the proud tradition of dystopian sci fi satire, and far more open about it than most. The connective tissue between episodes is very clearly there to facilitate getting from one setpiece to another, with the plot itself coming a distant fourth between deep themes, character study and setting exploration in terms of the book’s priorities. While there is action and physical danger, Uncharles’ Jeevesish sensibility and distorted narration prevents tension or a sense of threat are ever really prominent. The actual conflicts in the book are solved by cleverness, understanding and word games – combined with the sense of farce and absurdity running through the entire thing it really felt like an old adventure game as much as anything (I mean this as high praise). It helps that is was often very funny – especially for as serious and philosophical a book as this, it’s just about the only thing keeping it from becoming unbearably didactic at points.

Not necessarily the most important theme to the book, but certainly the most prominent and obvious throughout it is a deep concern with the automation of complex systems, the insulation of human decision-makers from any sign things are going wrong until its far too late, and the social collapse that might result from the two. Humanity has, for most of the book, more or less vanished from the scene – something that the dizzyingly complex arrays of robotic systems that comprised most of actual civilization are not at all designed to deal with, as they’re increasingly trapped in absurd loops or simply freeze without anyone with the privileges and authority to resolve the issues they encounter. This is one of the book’s main sources of humour – both through Uncharles’ increasingly strained attempts to find some existence he can squint and say is like being a gentleman’s gentlebot, and all the Brazil-esque absurdity of things like a police-bot doing a drawing room reveal of an investigation that took two minutes to an audience of other robots who all already know what happened.

The other big theme running through the book is exactly how a society might respond to true automation, to human labour becoming (outside of high-level programming and administration) basically superfluous to a society that is so rich and powerful it can provide comfort and plenty to every one of its citizens. Badly, as it turns out! It’s not a subject Uncharles’ ever considers consciously until the end, but this is a book that takes an incredibly cynical view of – a lot of things, really, but the charity and benevolence extended by the winners of an economy that now has immense amounts of structural unemployment especially.

This became much, much more explicit in the ending – to, I think, the detriment of the book as a whole. Or better to say it became a much more on-the-nose parable, once it’s revealed that spiralling structural failures and various intersecting forms of eco-social collapse were important, sure, but the actual big finish really was because of one evil robot who clicked the ‘kill all humans’ button. It also really draws the eye to how much the unstated timeline of things doesn’t really cohere, but again – parable, not hard futurism. As cackling evil masterminds go, God is at least a fun one, and the sermonizing about justice and mercy and anti-homeless architecture and all that is at least both well-written and not overlong.

Though God is actually unusually complex and nuances as the book’s supporting characters go – most are on some level caricatures there to support the satirical point being made (if not just amusing set dressing who expand the setting a bit). The only two people in the story with any sort of nuance or depth – let alone an arc – are Uncharles and The Wonk (who also sound like some truly terrible indie band, put like that). Which is hardly a complaint – the supporting cast does its job very well, and the two of them are both pretty excellent characters (even if Wonk’s verbal tics get a bit grating at times).

Uncharles’ arc is the final real theme running through the whole book, and really only marginally less subtle than the collapse of society. The question of when exactly a complex, humanlike robot gains free will or becomes a person is one a lot of science fiction over the ages has spent a lot of time on, so I can’t say the book is actually doing anything new here – but his stubborn refusal to accept he’s a person and simultaneous rules-lawyering and contorting his ostensible task list as the book goes on is both well-done and very touching at points. The recurring note – with Charles, with God, and with quite a few less advanced and autonomous robots throughout the story – the there’s absolutely no contradiction between having a degree of free will and with having desires or psychological needs imprinted in you by your creators (or evolution) actually is something that a lot of fiction working in the same space often has trouble with, too.

Not at all sure how it’ll rank compared to some of the other finalists this year, but it is at least fun and fairly meaty sci-fi. Tchaikovsky continues to not disappoint.

[crab-people-overlord]

I was reading through someone else’s post who makes a great point about how both ‘Ginger Cow’ and ‘Humancentipad’ are both just…. painful episodes of Kyle suffering to watch, but how ‘Ginger Cow’ expands more on Kyle’s dynamics with the others so is an important one to not skip over. I already had an analysis of this episode queued up, but decided to share now lol.

What sets the two episodes apart is that ‘Humancentipad’ doesn’t really add much to any of the canon for the show, so you honestly don’t miss much if you skip that episode. It doesn’t really demonstrate any new dynamics or canon for any of them. We already know Cartman manipulates his mom and enjoys Kyle's suffering. And we already know Stan and others will try to help Kyle when he's in trouble. It's South Park business as usual.

But "Ginger Cow"? Even though this episode is similarly painful to watch, it’s very important in how it develops the relationships between ALL of the main four boys in relation to Kyle, especially the Kyle-Stan-Cartman triangle.

There's something very telling and interesting about how Cartman torments Kyle in this episode. It's not just his usual "ha ha Kyle suffers" routine - it's way more psychological and to an extent, more sophisticated than his usual tactics (funny to call breathing in farts sophisticated, but… eh, in the way he uses it as torture, it is). Cartman basically creates this whole elaborate scenario where Kyle has to CHOOSE to subject himself to humiliation, which is so much more twisted than just directly trying to cause him pain through the same remarks he usually does. He weaponizes Kyle’s own martyr complex against him, which is kind of genius in a fucked up way.

In the B plot, you have Kenny and Stan who just do not understand why Kyle is going along with Cartman’s whims. Stan has many scenes in which he confronts Kyle. He is genuinely trying to understand why Kyle is going along with this and not giving up - and Kenny to a lesser extent is in the background backing Stan up.

Stan tries many different tactics to get Kyle to stop succumbing to Cartman’s farting, and when he sees that Kyle is too stubborn to stop, he then tries to see where Kyle is coming from. He really respects Kyle, and in his mind, if Kyle won’t stop, there must be a reason for it, right? But Kyle won’t open up to the ‘why’ of it all. At one point, Stan starts his line of questioning again. “... Dude, we’ve been friends for a long time. Can you just at least tell me why you like Cartman’s farts so much?.... You like… how they smell? How they taste?.... Should I try them?”

He offers to try them himself to understand, which is WILD lmfao. But he just genuinely is so confused as to why Kyle is letting himself be tortured to the point that he offers to go try it as well, and if that isn’t a bro being a bro, then I don’t know what tf is. Of course, Kyle exclaims, “NO”, wanting to save him from the same fate as what he has to go through. Kyle is justifying it in his mind as he really does think he is being the chosen one to save humanity here.

While this episode is hard to watch, I do genuinely find the Stan and Kenny dynamics hilarious and underrated. The repeated scenes where Stan goes to recap his conversation with Kyle are so funny. At one point, Stan says, “I don’t get it, Kenny,” to a Kenny that’s been waiting patiently outside. Kenny just shrugs and says, “Dude, maybe he’s, like, mentally ill or something”, lmaoooo.

And then the moment where Stan goes on the big screen as he calls Kyle is genuinely funny to me as well. He tries to tell Kyle he found out Cartman’s been lying, and Kyle is like, “Duh, dude. Why the fuck do you think I’ve been going along with it 😭” And that’s when Stan finally understands why Kyle’s doing it. But he still tells Kyle he thinks he’s being a dick about it all, but ultimately decides to help Kyle out. I think the part where Stan tells Kyle sternly that he needs to apologize to Kenny as well is so fucking funny (and then Kenny’s cheery ‘It’s okay, Kyle!’) is everything lmfao.

Stan and Kyle’s dynamic here particularly is interesting to me because it is SO similar to their dynamic in the ‘Butterballs’ episode, just in reverse where Stan is the one lecturing Kyle for getting up his ass for trying to be a ‘savior’.

Stan mentions something like this many times, but when Kyle compares himself to Gandhi, Stan replies, “You know, I don’t think when Ghandi starved himself he was all ‘Dude look how fuckin’ awesome I am for starving. Check me out!””. This is pretty much the same parallel as Kyle telling Stan he was gonna end up naked and jacking it in San Diego in “Butterballs”. Both those episodes are painful for me to watch, but I do love how it shows how both Stan and Kyle care about each other enough to call each other out on their bullshit like real friends should.

I think that both Stan and Kyle both have moments where they get so caught up in trying to be the ‘hero’ that they don’t realize they’re being more performative and making justifications rather than actually helping. (other examples include ‘A Scause for Applause’ for Stan, and ‘Crack Baby Athletic Association’ for Kyle.) Note that I think these episodes are more the exception rather than the rule for both characters as I really do think both try their hardest in their own ways to be good, but those episodes are examples of what I mentioned above and add interesting depth to both their characters.

p.s. there’s a deleted scene where Stan and Kenny actually go to the doctor to try to find out what’s wrong with Kyle and it’s so cute lmfao. It’s giving the time stan went to the doctor to try to give up his kidney for Kyle. It’s short, but also shows how much they truly work hard behind the scenes to help their friend out. One of the screenshots provided is from that scene.