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textmel8r · 3 months

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[ DRABBLE ] 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ! ( tenth installment ) in which you find toji fushiguro’s number off a sugar baby site .

୨୧˚ part; one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight. nine. ten. eleven.

୨୧˚ incl; toji fushiguro

୨୧˚ cw; sugar mommy! reader , sugar baby! toji , profanity , prostitution , drug and alcohol abuse , smut , allusions to hypersexuality , bisexual! toji

୨୧˚ an; okay there is seriously something wrong with my ability to tag people, certain blog names don’t come up when i search them it’s pissing me offfff SO SORRY if you’re on the tag list and you didn’t get tagged😣

୨୧˚ join my discord server ! we share headcanons, fanfic recs, color roles, and more drooling emoji

Thunderous bangs against his apartment’s front door rouse Toji from comatose. He wakes with a sharp inhale, eyes screwing shut because the sunlight that flooded through the bars of his dusty blinds singed his retinas. There’s a beat of silence, one that makes Toji believe his guest has walked off, and he cuddles back into the sofa with solid intentions of returning to dream state, however those plans go up in flames when more aggressive knocking chimes. The man groans, fingers clawing into the scrappy throw pillow his face is currently buried into.

“Fuck off!” Toji growls. His voice is muffled and crackling with excess exhaustion. He is so not in the mood for company right now.

“Fushiguro cut the shit, I’m not playing with you today.” Ugh, that voice. “Open the damn door, don’t make me bust it down.”

More pounding, and the rusty hinges creak from the pressure of it. Given no other choice, Toji peels himself off his crappy little couch and sits for a moment, dragging a heavy hand down his face. There’s a half empty can of Coke perched on the coffee table, amongst a plethora of other trash, and Toji snags it. It’s lost carbonation, totally flat and lukewarm, but it satiates his thirst good enough.

The knob twists, clinking against the lock impatiently. “Untwist your panties, I’m comin’,” He barks before muttering Jesus Christ under breath. It’s no surprise to see Shiu Kong when he draws open his door, standing erect with his arms crossed in irritation. Toji scowls, “what do you want?”

Shiu knocks shoulders to his when he grants himself entrance, much to Toji’s chagrin. “So you are alive?”

“Still kickin’, yeah.”

Shiu stands in the middle of the living room, flitting over the unkempt scene. It’s a mess, littered with crushed cans and hollowed take-out boxes and dirty laundry. Heavy glass bottles lined the floor near the sofa, some filled halfway with translucent, amberish liquid, some bone dry. “I see you been busy,” the man inquired, sarcastic as all Hell.

Toji sighs. “Yep.”

“You should crack a window or something, man. It reeks like the inside of a flask in here.”

“I’ll do that,” no he won’t, “what do you want?”

Shiu scoffs at his gall, but Toji wants him out of his place as soon as possible. He knows why his handler has come to visit, it’s most likely a work thing. Fuck work. Fuck Shiu for barging in and interrupting his afternoon nap. Fuck his apartment for being embarrassingly filthy.

“You’ve been ducking my calls. I don’t appreciate that.”

“Y’know, most people would take that as a sign to fuck off.”

“I’m not most people, though, am I?” He takes a seat on the couch. Toji doesn’t follow suit, choosing to stay leaned against the wall. “I’m technically your superior.”

“You think that title means jack to me?”

Shiu ignores the attitude; he’s used to taking shit from Toji for the better part of a decade now. “It should.” Silence cuts in, and he leans down to pluck one of the thick bottles off the floor by its neck. Liquor sloshes around in the constraint of glass, and Shiu holds it up to the light and skims the label. “This is cheap shit.”

Yeah, it was stupid cheap. Toji swiped it off the clearance rack at the gas station around the corner from his complex. They started tagging the alcohol, made it more difficult to steal, so he exclusively bought the least expensive liquor he could find. “Don’t gotta be smooth. Don’t gotta be much of anything, s’long as it fucks me up.” He didn’t drink rum on a Thursday at 3:42 pm for the taste.

Shiu hums, looking oddly unnerved. Still holding the bottle, he jerks it up in a slight gesture. “What’s the occasion?” Followed by an awkward chuckle. Toji itches the base of his scalp, pushing down his bed hair.

“Dunno.”

He was just sort of… regressing. Backsliding into the open arms of his beloved vices. Day drinking again, sloshing himself into liquor-induced unconsciousness that puts him to sleep for days. He starts hitting the casinos more frequently, tapping into poker games and betting away money he doesn’t have because the adrenaline of it all is orgasmic. Drugs have weaved themselves back into Toji’s routine as well; he’s been snorting the pricey shit that gets him numb in the face and leaves that nasty taste dripping in the back of his throat. Shit he hasn’t fucked with since his wife’s death.

Well, he supposes he’s always been like this. Clinging onto some sort of substance to distract himself from the pain of being alive in a Zenin’s body, no matter how damaging or problematic it may be. His childhood looms over him, even as a grown man, and it’s so terribly pathetic to still be hung up on shit that happened over two decades ago. But he apologetically is. Toji is a pathetic, woeful piece of shit who is forever haunted by memories.

Distractions. They weren’t always mutilating. Not all of them tore apart his body and soul. Sometimes, they were beautiful.

His tongue twitches in his mouth, aching to curl around a cigarette.

Shiu huffs, setting the bottle back down near his feet. “You doing okay?”

“Yeah,” Toji nods curtly, licking at his dry lips. “I’m straight.”

“Right,” his handler responds slowly, entirely unconvinced. “You’ve been skimping out on your assignments. It’s fucking me over, Fushiguro.”

Toji hasn’t taken up a job in nearly three months. Not since the night he left your place and walked home in the pouring rain. It was funny—he hadn’t thought it was a bluff when you threatened to call the police. No, Toji expected his apartment complex to be swarmed with officers when he returned but… nothing besides crickets. That night was seared into his frontal lobe, every motion engraved and vivid behind his eyes. Still soaked to the bone, he melted into the couch and stared up at his water-damaged ceiling for hours before slumber pulled him into its embrace.

Toji hasn’t slept in his bed since.

“Oh, so that’s why you came to visit. Boss is cuttin’ your pay with me gone.” Toji smiles bitterly, then juts his lower lip out in a mock pout. “Aww, that must be so hard for you, I’m sorry. You can cry about it on the ride home in your fucking Bentley.”

“Hey asshole, this isn’t just a me thing. Your slacking affects both our paychecks.” Shiu rakes a hand through his gelled do, and Toji is acutely aware of the luxury watch glinting on his wrist. “I mean, shit, where have you even been getting your cash from lately? How have you been keepin’ the lights on in this shithole?”

That last question is a mystery to Toji, as well. Truth is, he hasn’t put a penny towards rent since he came back. Eviction was inevitable, he’d ride out the days he had left and then figure out what to do when he received his week’s notice. Only that pink slip of paper never appeared taped to his door. Surely, you weren’t still covering it… Not with the way you and him ended terms so roughly… But what the fuck else could it be? Toji wanted to ask you about it; wanted to use this entire situation as an excuse to contact you, but he couldn’t muster up the courage and resolve. Talking to you again sounded so fucking sweet, but so, so fucking painful.

Toji didn’t answer, and Shiu grimaced at his quietness. On the couch, Shiu shifted uncomfortably, leaning forward to rest his elbows over his thighs. “You’re not,” he struggles for a moment to find the words, squinted eyes drilling holes into Toji’s. “Tell me you ain’t whoring again.”

Sex was Toji’s grimiest form of escapism. He started fucking other people again.

Mostly women, with a few men sprinkled in between. Gender was irrelevant; genitalia didn’t matter much to him in the grand scheme of things, Toji only fucked casually for the sensation of a warm body to hold onto. Vying for satisfaction with a partner, competing for release; it became a damn near nightly procedure at this point. Scouring bars in the dark hours for any willing participant, then fucking one out in the filth of the public restroom. His sweaty back against the stall, or him seated on the lid of a toilet. It was gross, he was gross.

Again, Toji is silent, and it speaks volumes. “God, man.” Shiu holds his face, pinching his brow bone, maneuvering the muscles in his jaw. He doesn’t sound angry or annoyed, just disappointed, and it makes Toji feel unnaturally immature; like he were a child again, getting a scolding from the family’s housekeeper for accidentally knocking the vase at the center of his dining table over and shattering it on the ground. “That’s—you can’t be doing this again.”

“Yeah well I don’t exactly got the resume for a nine to five, now do I?” He was forever tainted by his past. No employer in the country would hire a man with four jail sentences, drug misdemeanors, battery charges, no education, no work experience… the list of Toji’s fuck ups could fill a dictionary front to back.

“You cannot go back to that.” Shiu looks pale in the face. I’m making him sick to his stomach.

“Money is money. Don’t hear you whining when you got me playing assassin for you, but God forbid I suck a coupla’ cocks for cash.” Toji pushes off the wall and stalks towards the tiny kitchenette on the far side of this cramped living space; this conversation is irritating him, he needs something to quell his cotton mouth. “Fix your morals, then we can talk.”

Shiu’s argument was mind numbingly idiotic. Comparing slaughter to sex for money, the absurdity nearly made Toji burst out laughing. Sex never killed anyone.

He’s rooting around in the fridge. It’s practically bare, housing nothing more than a few take out boxes and some lager, but that’s alright. Toji tears a can of beer from the plastic six-pack ring, and when he pops out from the refrigerator, Shiu stands there with his hip against the small counter. “You’re self-destructing.”

The can cracks open. Beer carbonation pops and hisses. “Am I?” Toji sniggers, tossing back a swig. Shiu’s eyes flit to the beverage, nose wrinkling. Toji catches on and nods to the kitchen sink. It’s full of dirty dishes. “Faucet’s fucked. Water’s full of lead. This is the only drink in the house and I’m thirsty, so hop off.”

“You’re self-destructing,” Shiu repeats once more, not matching Toji’s humorous lilt. “I’m serious, Fushiguro. You’re off.”

“What do you want me to say to that besides fuck you?”

It grows quiet again. The air is warm and thick and rife with apprehension; it presses on Toji’s chest like a sleeping cat. “So what?” Finally, Shiu speaks. “That’s it?”

He shakes his head contentedly. “That’s it.”

“You understand this is going to be Hell for me from now on. You’re the best hired gun on my roster, the boss is gonna have my ass if you quit.”

Toji takes a long sip of beer. “You’re tough. You can handle it.”

“You’re such an asshole,” Shiu breathes, but there’s no real malice behind his words. “If you’re really serious about quitting, then fine. Fucking fine, I’ll—” He groans, massaging his temple, “I’ll handle it. But I’m telling you, this is the best it gets for guys like us.”

The best it gets is killing men. Leaving wives widowed, leaving kids fatherless. “Can’t be.” Toji feels nauseous at the thought. “There’s gotta be more.” There has to be. It’s the only affirmation that stops him from knocking back the whole bottle of vicodin in his bathroom medicine cabinet and calling it a night.

“This is how the world works. This is us being punished for being shitty people.”

Toji doesn’t have anything to say to that. He refuses to acknowledge it.

Shiu rubs at his nape, pushing off the counter. “Look, I only dropped by to get on your ass for playing hooky, wasn’t exactly expecting… all of this. But, uh,” despite their expansive acquaintanceship with one another, they never really got a hang of the whole sentimental bit. Shiu tries for a moment, mouth opening and closing a few times as the words die on his tongue, before finally settling on a long exhale through the nostrils. He tucks his hands into the pockets of his slacks, squaring his shoulders. “Just stay safe, would ya?”

Toji salutes lazily. “Aye aye.”

Shiu ducks his head in a wide nod. “Good, good. And uh, you got my number. So use it if you need to.”

Toji can tell that Shiu is trying to dole out formalities in the most unconventional way possible, so he helps him out by chuckling. “Get the fuck outta my house already.” Then, he drains the last few ounces from his can before crushing the aluminum in his fist, tossing the litter carelessly to the floor. He’ll get it later. Or not. Probably not.

“Yeah, okay.”

The hotel room is pitch black, not even the moonlight reaches through the window. Toji stumbles through the door first, dragging another person in by the waist. He kicks it shut with the heel of his boot. A woman—mid 20’s, pretty, about two heads shorter than Toji so he’s forced to crane his neck uncomfortably low when they kiss. Some random he found off an anonymous hookup app he downloaded, a consenting body three miles away for him to use. They coordinated a time and place—midnight at this shitty motel—which brings us to the present.

“Wait—” She struggles to speak in between wet kisses, patting Toji's bicep. “Wh—get the lights.”

He shakes his head. “Leave them off.”

Humidity stickied the air, clinging to his skin alongside sweat. He was coming down from something—some upper he popped hours prior to this—and because of that, a thin tremble rattled in his bones gliding through marrow. It’s so hot. He’s hot everywhere. It almost hurts, the heat.

She doesn’t put up much of an argument and takes his bruteness like a champ. Let’s him hoist her up and jerk her onto the stiff motel mattress, its blankets coughing a plume of dust into the atmosphere when their weights fell upon it. The scratchy comforter reeked of mildew and clawed back at the jagged callouses sitting in the divots of Toji’s weathered fingers when he grabbed handfuls of bedding.

He finds himself drafting comparisons in the moment, as he often did. Comparing his present to a better time; when he wasn’t slutting himself out to strangers for a fix of warmth or money, in this case the former. Your bed—God, no not tonight, he shouldn’t be devoting another night to you—smelled of a sweet concoction; your perfume, your laundry detergent, your shampoo, just you. There was no catching or pulling at his marred hands when he clawed at your bedsheets, no, the satin was gentle on his most rough parts.

“How do you want me?”

Toji blinked in succession, snapping back to cold reality. It was easy to lose himself in his delusions, muddying the lines between his dreamscape and actuality. Maybe the liquor finally seeped into his brain and this was neurosis’s way of knocking at the door. What a hilarious thing to think about. Toji slips a hand beneath her back and maneuvers the smaller body himself.

“Hands and knees.” He doesn’t want to look at her face.

Neither of them had even bothered to undress—this truly lacked all semblance of intimacy. Hands reach behind herself to inch suffocating denim down past the shelf of her ass, Toji thumbs down his own waistband just past the half-mast erection he sported. Everything felt robotic, it was a wonder he could even get hard in such a lifeless domain.

“You brought a con—”

“Yes,” he responds pointedly, eager for the talking to cease. He didn’t care to hear the whispers of a strange woman asking about whether or not he had protection on him. Of course, he had one. It goes quiet again. In the dark, dank air Toji kneels behind a wet, willing hole and yet all he can think of is you when he stroked himself to total hardness.

“Are you kidding me?” You gawked at him, disbelief evident in the obtuse look you gave him. He was splayed out on your kitchen tiles, ducked back beneath the sink, working at the drain pipe with a rubber-gripped wrench. His ass ached from sitting on hard floors for too long, back groaned under the pressure of being bent backwards, neck stiff and knotted thanks to the awkward tilt he was forced to wear, but seeing the awe scribbled on your face made the pain dull. “I had two handymen take a look, neither of them could find the issue. But you just knew exactly what to do.”

He had to laugh at the ridiculousness. “You’ve just got yourself a fucked supply line. Ain’t rocket science, I’ll get you right.” Toji slips out from the cupboard, looking up from the floor through pin straight bangs. Scratching a brow with his thumb nail, “you hired a couple of idiots.”

You retort in a groan, unable to thrum up a defense. “I’m the real idiot, I suppose. You think they were just trying to scam me or what?”

“Probably.” Back under the sink he goes, wedging the wrench around the circumference of the pipe. Toji’s forearm tenses with each crank of the tool, and he doesn’t stop until the bolt is fastened as tight as his strength can manage. “Doesn’t matter. I’m here.”

Though he can’t see your face at the moment, Toji hears your sheepish smile wrapping around each word. “My hero.” The sarcasm was eminent, tongue-in-cheek and you nudged his foot with your own. He kicks you back, heel to your bony ankle. “Hey!” You’re laughing now.

“Don’t get smart.” The drain pipe is secure, and he’s satisfied with his labor. Toji pulls himself to his feet, flicking the stainless steel lever on the sink’s tap with a knuckle. Crystal clear water flows out evenly from the faucet, collecting in a puddle at the basin, swirling down the drain. “Watch, look,” Toji points with his toe to the pipe under the cabinet, and he can’t quell the lofty smirk that tugs at scarred lips when there is no leakage. A successful repair; you look astonished for lack of a better word, and it gives the man a strange swell of pride hanging in his belly.

He did that. He was useful to you in a way he hadn’t been useful to anyone in a long while. He didn’t have to kill, didn’t have to fuck; fixing a leaky kitchen sink seemed beyond good enough for you. Foolish.

“I’m impressed.” You turn to him. “Thank you, Toji.”

You blathered on some more, speaking such things of how generous you planned on being in return. Something about money in exchange for the service, but Toji wasn’t really listening past your declaration of gratitude. It was just straightforward plumbing work of the most basic level, and yet you thanked him like he hung the stars in the sky.

“Sure. It was no problem.” And he smiled back.

That did it. He’s stiff, cock cradled in his fist with nothing less than a bruising grip. The condom was pre-lubricated and slick with odorless oil. Toji went through the practiced motions—hooking the ringed entrance over himself, pinching the tip of the condom, rolling it down to sheath every inch.

“Oh,” she gasped, lurching forward at the feeling of Toji’s head sliding up and down between her legs. Between her folds. She’s wet for him. Hips whined back into his groin with avidity. “Put it in.”

He slaps her with an open palm, connecting with an asscheek. She moans again and reaches back to paw at Toji’s navel with blunt nails. Free from any of that fancy acrylic stuff.

This time around was torturously similar to every other fuck he’s had in recent date. Everything is fast-paced and unforgiving, leaving not much room for anything else. Toji fucks to forget. He fucks to remember, too.

“Y/n,” he groans shamelessly. There’s a muffled reply, but it’s murky and muffled and unable to be understood because Toji had taken the humble liberty of holding his conquest’s face into the flat, fluffless pillow. He doesn’t care for a response, to be corrected or called a piece of shit for being so inconsiderate as to not remember her name. It was Mandy, he wants to say. Maybe Maddy? Who gives a fuck.

“That’s rude, you know.”

Toji pouts theatrically, forcing his bottom lip out in a way that has you playfully rolling your eyes. In his hand, a bundled ball of blanket that he’d stolen from you and hoarded to his side of the sofa. “Aww, I’m sorry.”

You sigh, throwing him a scathing glance. “No, you’re not.”

Movie night, or so you said. Sitting in the lonesome of your quiet penthouse just the two of you, watching some new finance documentary that just dropped on Netflix. It sounded absurdly boring to Toji, but you’d been keen on hyping it up all week long, offering him an invitation to view it together. Really, Toji couldn’t give a shit about a bunch of old guys talking crypto-bullshit for two hours straight—but it’s not like that’s what was really going to happen anyway. Toji had convinced himself this was all a ploy to snake your way into his pants at last. Naturally, he accepted your invitation.

“Just gonna have to sit closer then,” Toji posed gruffly, eyeing down the gap between your bodies on the couch. Sitting at opposite ends like a couple of children who still believed cooties was a prevalent issue. He nods toward you,“come on.”

“You’re terrible.” Despite that, you scoot closer, invading his bubble of personal space and snatching your half of the blanket back. Focused on the Netflix explore page, tongue poked out between two rows of teeth as you enter the title of the documentary into the search bar, you miss the way Toji observes you. Watching. Waiting.

And waiting.

For what? Who knows. Maybe Toji prepares himself for the inevitable moment when you slip a hand beneath the blanket and drift over to his thigh. Ready for that familiar squeeze at his crotch, the same tango so many other curious hands have danced in the past. But he’d let you proceed without any qualms. He’d encourage you.

“You’re bored, huh?” You chuckled halfheartedly midway through the film, pressing pause. Bored didn’t even begin to describe his pure disinterest.

Toji shrugs. “Maybe.” His arm rests on the back ledge of the couch, not quite around you, but so close that it might as well be. He shifts, touches his right thigh to your left one, and tilts his chin down. “Listening to a bunch of rich fucks whine about the stock market doesn’t exactly captivate me.”

Frowning, “that’s only surface level. The audience is supposed to infer—” Fake snoring cuts you off. Toji rolls his eyes shut, hanging his jaw to fake the most obnoxious slumber. His head lolls onto your shoulder. You don’t shy away from the physical contact. “You’re not funny.” He begs to differ, what with the way nasally snorts crack from your sinuses. The shoulder he presses his cheek to stutters with stifled dissipation.

“Stop movin’.” Toji nuzzles closer, facetiously dumping body weight against you if not for anything other than to hear the struggle squeeze at your throat when you wrestle to keep upright. “I’m comfy like this.”

“You’re never this affectionate.”

He’s not usually. But Toji’s hellbent on his premonitions. You want him. Everyone wants him. It’s been months of banter, months of getting spoiled by financial stability. You give him everything. You take nothing. His nose caresses the junction where shoulder and neck meet. Why won’t you just let him fucking give you something? You swallow hard. “Toji.”

“I constantly feel like I owe you. Like I got dues to pay.”

“Do I… make you feel that way?”

“All the fucking time.” It swelters beneath the blanket you share, and sweat starts to collect at the creases behind Toji’s knees. Bathing in the shared body heat, letting the convection hug his hips. He sighs, backtracking. “I know you got good intentions, ‘s what you keep telling me. And I like it, the way you reassure me. It’s… reassuring.” He titters into your neck, blinking slowly.

“Then why do you keep doing this?” A ginger hand graces the rear of his skull, not forcing him closer, but not tugging him away either. It just sits there, scritching as calm as your voice.

“Don’t know.”

This wasn’t the first time Toji succumbed to that shrill, little whisper in his head, the one that told him to spontaneously initiate closeness. It feels like common knowledge by now; to reciprocate in kind to any form of benevolence like a trained dog, because that was the expectation of him. To get on his knees and worship until bruises hammered into his joints and the hinges of his jaw grew sore from overuse. This transaction is familiar. It brings him a twisted sense of comfort, and you ripped it away. For better or for worse, Toji had yet to conclude.

“It’s like muscle memory.” That was the best way to describe it. Toji ached to give you the pleasure that felt long overdue in this affair. To offer some sort of repayment in the only way he knew how. Lips ghost over porcelain flesh—he’s never been so tempted in his life. Sex had always been the most exhausting and emotionally depleting aspect when he dealt with these kinds of unconventional financial relationships, but now as he unfurls his candied tongue and laves a stretch from collar to jawline, Toji has never wanted to be inside of someone more. Deft fingers were quick to pull him back by the scruff.

You studied Toji with unreadable eyes. He stares back, wiping excess saliva from his fatty lower lip with a thumb.

“I don’t want this for us,” you speak up finally, meandering eyes roaming around his facial features. You look at his lips, then his nose, then between his eyes. “Are you listening? I’ll write it on my fucking forehead if that’s what it takes for you to understand.”

“What if I want it?” Toji breathes.

You’re shaking your head. “You don’t.”

Who the fuck are you to decide what he does or doesn’t want? And how fucking dare you be right about it. Because in all this build up—the panting, the heat, the licking—Toji hadn’t so much as twitched down there. It’s like his mind and body were completely detached, separate entities trying to cohesively navigate through an avalanche of generational trauma. Trying and failing miserably. He palms himself to confirm his limp appendage.

“Fuck.” A bucket of ice water dumped over his head, washing away the illusion of lust and leaving behind reality in its wake. What the fuck am I doing? “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too.” Toji doesn’t really understand what you’re apologizing for. You’ve got no need to feel sorry when he was the one who threw himself at you so abruptly. But he doesn’t ask, either. It felt eerily nice to be on the receiving end of an ‘I’m sorry.’

You still hold his nape. The film is long forgotten at this point, set on the backburner, and dimmed with the Are you still watching? notification blanketing the screen.

“Your movie.” Toji cocks his head, beckoning towards the gigantic television pinned to the wall all without tearing his eyes from yours. “Press play.”

This has the beginnings of a coy smirk straining your lips. “I thought it was boring you?”

He shrugs. “It’s not so bad.”

And so you resumed the documentary, if not for anything other than to dissolve the serious tension that palpated in the air. You didn’t force Toji to explain himself, you didn’t hound him for answers about his hypersexuality. You didn’t distance yourself, you didn’t act appalled when his thigh brushed yours again. You didn’t pity him, you didn’t treat him like a child. But you did stroke his neck. You continued to laugh with him. You let him fall asleep on you that night and didn’t wake him ‘till morning.

You let him trust.

His orgasm doesn’t have any anticipation. It crashes down on him all at once, splitting down the notches of his spine and sending bouts of electricity zapping down to his curled toes, still encased in thick, mud soaked boots. She cries below, contorting in the direction of the pleasure, but Toji holds her down while he fills the rubber.

It’s unsatisfying.

“Oh my fuck—” The woman pants on her come down, trembling around him. She clearly enjoyed herself, giggling stupidly into the pillow now sopping with drool and tears. Toji pulls out with little grace, sneering at the viscous mess of bodily fluids slicking up his navel. Proficient fingers work the sticky condom off, tying the end in a balloon knot.

It’s gross.

He folds, dropping onto the bed beside her. Sweat glues bangs to his forehead. His chest rises, then falls, then rises again with exertion. Sleep threatens to rear itself, weighing down his eyelids.

It’s tiring.

The body beside him stirs, rolling on her side. “How was it?”

“Good,” he lies through his teeth for the sake of sparing feelings. She smiles, feeling over his chest.

“It was good for me, too,” she tells him like he asked. “Really good. Oh, also my name’s Maria by the way, not Y/n.” Maria chuckles like it was just a silly mix up.

She drags him into mindless, post-sex banter. Rambling on about workplace drama, about her two pet cats and about her shity landlord. Mindless rattling that falls on Toji’s deaf ears; he’s disassociated, lying face-up on the terribly hard bed, fixated on the grime weighing down his lap. When an opening arises, Toji hauls himself up and claims the shower.

An intense wave of queasiness materializes in the centerpoint of Toji’s stomach when he closes himself in behind the bathroom door. The aftermath always felt this awful—bitter and lonely and degrading. Toji takes a moment to just be, perching on the lid of the toilet with his head in his hands, swallowing down sickness lest he subject Maria to a concert of his disgusting gags if he retches into the bowl.

When Toji stands to fiddle with the shower handle, he becomes hyper aware of the weight in his sweatpants. There’s an awkward sag in the fabric, bunching around the object that sits heavy in his front pocket. His cellphone—he never bothered to remove it. Giving a sniffle to the air, Toji fishes out the device and taps the screen with little interest.

Oh.

He looks away. Looks at the sink, then the wall, then the glass door of the shower cubicle. Then back at his screen. Back at the very real notification that sits there idly, begging to be clicked.

Toji’s heart races at a perilous speed, something lethal for an old man like himself. He can feel the beat rumble his insides, blending everything up like a bloody smoothie.

Yielding, he clicks.

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ashwhowrites · 5 months

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Well, I'm feeling a bit petty lately. So say, Y/N and Eddie is in a relationship but another girl is hitting on him and rubbing it in Y/N's face and she has told Eddie "please, tell this girl off, because it's not fun what she's doing." But Eddie, that has only seen the sweet side of the other girl tells her 'there's nothing you have to worry about', maybe he likes the attention even though he's faithful to Y/N.

So one night when Y/N and Eddie is going to have a date night this girls calls is needs him for whatever reason and Eddie just says "be right back, babe."

And that's where Y/N draw the line. She usually stays at Eddie's and Wayne's but now she packs up her stuff and goes home and when Eddie comes back and gets frantic, she doesn't answer her phone and when he comes to her house to visit she just says: Why aren't you with "other girls name"? She's the one you treat as a girlfriend after all?" and close the door in his face.

And Eddie realizes he has fucked upp for real this time - for real real and maybe even gets a talking to by Wayne.

But it ends happily please?

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻 I tried my best to make it a happy ending and still keeping Eddie at blame.

Who's your girlfriend?

Y/N and Eddie's relationship never had arguments or disagreements. They worked perfectly together. But lately, a new girl shook things up.

Her name was Maddie, and Y/N hated her. She was a waitress at the hideout. Eddie and Y/N spent most of their time at the hideout, cuddled in their booth. It was something Y/N looked forward to every day, but now it sucked.

Maddie knew Eddie was taken, and she didn't care. She spent most of her shifts flirting with Eddie and it pained Y/N that he never told her to back off.

"Anything else?" Maddie asked, her attention on Eddie.

"We are all set, thank you." Eddie smiled, taking the check from Maddie's hand. She smiled back and walked off.

"Help me with the math?" Eddie asked as he handed Y/N the receipt. Y/N went to calculate a tip when she noticed tiny scribbles in the corner.

"What a bitch!" Y/N snarled, slamming the receipt on the table. "She wrote her fucking phone number."

"So? Ignore it." Eddie shrugged, digging cash out of his wallet.

"Ignore it? Eddie! She flirts with you all the time, and I try to ignore it. But this is straight disrespect. And I think you need to say something." Y/N explained.

"She doesn't mean it, you know waitresses do the most for a tip."

"I think she wants more than just the tip, Eddie," Y/N growled, and she slid out of the booth. Eddie followed after.

"Don't be like that. You know I've only got eyes for you." Eddie said, throwing his arm over her shoulder. But she shrugged him off and crossed her arms. She marched out of the bar, and Eddie tried to keep up.

"You're right, I'm sorry. Next time I'll say something." Eddie promised, grabbing her hand to make her stop.

Y/N sighed and kicked at the rocks in the parking lot.

"You will?" She asked, her sad eyes looking up at him.

"Of course." He said. Y/N let it go, holding his hand as they walked to his van and went home.

Y/N took deep breaths as they walked into the hideout. She was excited to finally see Eddie put Maddie in her place.

They sat down in their booth, no surprise Maddie was ready to serve them immediately. Her eyes stayed on Eddie as he ordered their drinks.

"You got it, handsome." Maddie flirted and then walked off.

Y/N kicked Eddie under the table, giving him a look. Her eyes hinted at Maddie.

"She's a nice girl, baby. Just being friendly." Eddie reassured her, moving closer to wrap his arm around her shoulder.

Y/N rolled her eyes but dropped it. The night was young and there would be plenty of time for Eddie to shut Maddie up. Y/N cuddled into his shoulder. She held the hand that hovered over her shoulder and pecked his jaw.

Maybe them being so cuddled up would help Maddie get the hint.

It didn't

Towards the end of their date, Maddie and Eddie got in a conversation about rock bands. Eddie removed his arm to talk with his hands. Y/N felt like the third wheel as she slurped down her drink.

Y/N was ready to leave. She couldn't sit here and watch them talk like she didn't exist.

"Excuse us, but we are leaving," Y/N said, standing up as she got out of the booth. She didn't care what Eddie had to say, she yanked him out of his spot.

"Oh, um bye!" Maddie rushed out as Y/N dragged Eddie out of the door.

"Well, that was rude." Eddie scoffed

"Rude? What was rude was you two acting like I wasn't even there! What was rude is that you told me you'd tell her off and you sat there like an idiot!" Y/N huffed, letting go of his hand as they made it to the van.

"She wasn't doing anything! We were having a friendly conversation." Eddie defended, starting the van.

"Friendly? Yeah right. I didn't know friendly conversations meant she'd be rubbing your arm and giggling at every fucking word. Trust me, babe. You are not that funny." Y/N said she knew she was being bitchy but she was beyond pissed.

"Why don't we talk about this when you calm down?" Eddie offered, peeling out of the parking lot.

But she never calmed down. She slammed the trailer door behind her as she marched into Eddie's room.

"Baby, come on let's talk" Eddie tried

"Nope. You didn't want to talk in the car so oh well. I am going to bed." She said, stripping out of her clothes and changing into pajamas she always left at Eddie's.

Eddie sighed but got ready for bed as well. He bit his lip as they lay in silence. She refused to cuddle him or let him touch her. She was on her side with her back towards him.

"Look I'm sorry." He said, his hand touched her shoulder but she slapped it away.

"Sorry, my ass. Go to bed." She snapped.

A few minutes passed, and both lay in silence.

Eddie groaned as his phone rang, he slipped out of bed to answer. Y/N turned on the lamp and sat up confused. It was very late for someone to be calling and she was worried that Dustin or someone needed help.

"Yeah, I'll be right there," Eddie said and he hung up.

"What's going on?" Y/N asked, moving to her knees.

"Maddie needs a ride home. I'll be right back." Eddie said he slipped on his pants and his jacket.

"Excuse me?"

"I'll be right back! Just go to sleep, love." Eddie said, leaning down and kissing her forehead.

"Edward Munson, do not go pick up that girl," Y/N growled, her tone was deep and angry. Eddie felt a little nervous as she glared.

"She called me! I can't just leave her at work." Eddie tried to defend.

"Yeah, she can stay at work until her next shift. Or call someone else. I'm sure she's got family and friends." Y/N shrugged. Then it clicked, she had Eddie's number. Y/N's face hardened and Eddie stepped back.

Her feet landed on the floor as her finger stabbed into Eddie's chest. He walked backward until his body hit his wall.

"She has your number, which means you called her! Which means you kept that receipt with her number on it." Y/N seethed. She couldn't believe her boyfriend kept Maddie's number.

"Yes, I did. But it was just as friends!" Eddie tried to defend himself.

"You knew I didn't like that she did that. You knew that I thought it was disrespectful towards our relationship."

"But I don't see it like that! I truly don't see an issue."

"Don't see the issue? I thought I made it clear. She's into you and you are leading her on because you enjoy the attention." Y/N said, her anger turning into a bit of sadness. Her boyfriend was enjoying the attention of someone else.

"I really need to go get her. And we can talk when I get back?" Eddie asked, Y/N stepped back and let him move away from the wall.

She was done talking and she was done listening. She nodded but didn't say a word. She kept her eyes on the floor as Eddie grabbed his keys and left.

Y/N refused to cry, she sniffled and took a deep breath. As she heard the van's engine start, she started to pack. She grabbed the nearest bag she could find and threw everything she had in it. If Maddie wanted Eddie so damn bad, she could have him. It wasn't like Eddie didn't already pick her a thousand times over Y/N anyway.

"You okay, kid?" Y/N looked up from her frantic packing. Wayne stood at Eddie's door with a sad smile.

"Uh yeah. I'm sorry if we woke you up." Y/N apologized, and she zipped up the bag.

"I'm sorry he's an idiot. He's going to realize soon, it takes Eddie a bit to see the real picture." Wayne sighed.

"Yeah well I'm not going to wait for him to see it," Y/N said, she had the bag on her shoulder and walked past Wayne.

"Let me drive you home." Wayne offered, as he grabbed his keys.

Eddie yawned as he finally got back home. It was nearly two am and he was exhausted. He was mentally exhausted by what was behind the door. He didn't want to have to argue with Y/N all over again.

Eddie walked into the trailer, shocked to see Wayne sitting on the couch.

"Why are you awake?" Eddie asked

"Why are you just getting home?" Wayne asked

"A friend needed a ride home." Eddie shrugged, as he took off his shoes and jacket. "But I'll talk to you in the morning. I don't want to keep Y/N waiting."

"She left," Wayne said, a disappointed tone in his voice.

"What? Why?" Eddie asked, he looked into his bedroom and his heart stopped. Half of his room was missing, all her stuff was nowhere to be seen.

"Go find out. And for once, listen to her." Wayne said as he walked back into his own room.

Eddie threw back on his shoes and jacket and headed back out.

He wasn't sure how many laws he broke as he pulled into Y/N's driveway. He climbed up the tree that led him straight to her window. He tapped on the glass, the light was on so he knew she was still awake.

Y/N yanked open her curtains to see Eddie. She rolled her eyes but opened the window.

"What are you doing here?" She sighed, crossed her arms, and blocked him from coming inside.

"You left, of course, I'm going to come get you," Eddie said, she ignored his puppy eyes and kept her ground.

"Right. After you were done with Maddie, right?" Y/N said

"Look Y-" but Y/N cut him off.

"No, Edward. We've talked about it, I've said how I've felt and you don't care. A friendship with Maddie is too important to you. So how about you leave me the fuck alone and go back to the girl you actually treat like a girlfriend. We're done." Y/N snapped, she slammed down her window and closed the curtains. This time she allowed herself to cry, she turned off her light so he couldn't see her shadow. She heard him knocking but she refused. She ignored his cries and pleas, she crawled into bed and allowed herself to cry to sleep.

~~~

Eddie paced in the living room all night. He waited for Wayne to wake up because he had no idea what to do. He knew he brushed how Y/N felt, but he thought it was jealousy. He didn't know she'd break up with him over it. He kicked himself for not truly listening and fixing the issue at the start.

Wayne walked out and Eddie ambushed him before he even made it to the hallway.

"She broke up with me. What do I do?" Eddie rushed out, the panic in his voice made him sound shaky.

"I'm sorry, Eddie. But I can't tell you what to do." Wayne said as he walked into the kitchen.

"Wayne, please. I can't let this girl go. If I knew how to fix it, I would have done it last night. I stayed up thinking and thinking but I was scared. What if I fucked up too bad? What if she never wants to be with me again?" Eddie panicked. His hands were in his hair as he yanked in frustration.

"Eddie, that girl told you the problem a thousand times. Listen to what she said, and you'll know what to do. But don't wait, do it now. A girl like that deserves way more than you offered her. I didn't raise you to hurt girls." Wayne lectured as he poured his coffee.

Eddie knew what he needed to do. He raced to Y/N's. Luckily it was a normal time so he could use the front door. He knocked and waited.

Y/N opened the door and went to slam it but Eddie caught it with his foot.

"Please, just give me a second to apologize."

Y/N sighed and opened the door.

"I'm sorry for pushing your feelings aside. I'm sorry for being a dick, and a bad boyfriend. I should have said something to Maddie the first time you felt uncomfortable. I'm sorry for everything and for making you upset. I know I don't deserve it, but I'm going to hate myself forever if I don't try to save this relationship. If I woke up one morning, alone in my thirties, knowing I could have had you right next to me and I didn't try for it. So please," he dropped to his knees and grabbed her hand. "Let me show you I heard you."

Y/N was confused about what it all meant, but she knew she loved Eddie and if there was a way to fix it, she wanted to do it.

"Okay, fine. What's your plan?" Y/N asked. Eddie jumped to his feet and grabbed her hand. He closed her front door and dragged her to his car.

"What are you doing?" She asked, but Eddie just had a big smile on his face.

"Something I should have done a long time ago." He said as he began to drive.

Y/N sat silently as she took in her surroundings. It clicked that they were heading to the hideout.

"Isn't it a little early to drink?" Y/N teased as Eddie pulled up into the parking lot.

"Yes, but that's not why we are here," Eddie said, he got out of the van and opened her door. He grabbed her hand and walked up to the front door, but didn't go in.

"Are we not going in?" Y/N asked

"We are, just need to do something first," Eddie said.

Y/N rolled her eyes as she saw Maddie walk up. She wasn't dressed in uniform so Y/N assumed she wasn't working.

"You wanted to see me?" Maddie asked, nervously looking at Eddie.

Y/N looked confused between both of them.

"Maddie, I am completely in love with Y/N. I know it was wrong of me to feed into your flirting. Even if I only wanted to be friends, I realize now it makes my girl uncomfortable and that's what matters the most. I also know now that your actions towards me were disrespectful to my relationship and whatever you thought was happening, is not happening. I've deleted your number, so I'd like it if you didn't call me ever again and never talked to me again." Eddie said, Y/N tried to hold back her laugh as steam came out of Maddie's ears.

Maddie didn't say anything, she stomped off and mumbled curse words under her breath.

"I know it doesn't fix everything. But I hope it's a start." Eddie said.

"It's definitely a start." Y/N smiled, holding Eddie's hand as they walked into the hideout. She gasped as she saw the whole small bar lit up in fairy lights, their booth had candles and a display of breakfast foods.

"Oh wow."

"Would you join me for a breakfast date?" Eddie asked his hand gestures towards the table.

"Oh absolutely," Y/N smiled as she walked towards their booth.

It was a start in the right direction. Maddie was out of their hair, and fixing their relationship could have all their attention.

Tags!

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#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson fluff #ashwhowrites

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ichangedmycornyahhname · 1 year

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Earth 42!Miles x reader

Summary: Reader grows suspicious of Miles, and eventually puts all the clues together. He’s the prowler. And she’s avoiding him. Ignoring his texts, calls, anything else. So finally, he confronts her.

Warnings: None really? Cursing, some kissing here and there, pretty fluffy. Nothing too bad (though if I make a part two I can’t say the same.) Not proofread at all- part.2 here

The text simply read, “Really Y/N?”

Her brows raised, confusion finding her expression at her boyfriends text. For the past few months Miles has been very suspicious. Leaving with his uncle to go gods knows where in this broken down city. “What is he talking about..?” She muttered to herself as she stared at the grey bubble. Her thumbs hovered over the screen as thoughts jumbled together in her mind. Did he know? Did he know that she found out?

She shut the phone off, setting it down on the balcony’s thin railing. Her eyes fell upon the dim city, the neon purple and green colliding together in a fierce blend of colors. She always reminisced about how the city was before crime took over. It was normal, you were able to walk the streets without being snatched or robbed. Maybe even killed depending how far into the city you go. A sigh aired from her lips, her head hanging down as she leaned against the railing. Her arms kept her propped up, allowing her to take a step back so that she had room to rest her head onto her forearms. “So you just gonna leave me on seen mami?” She jolted, her head shooting up and taking a peek over her shoulder. Behind her on the fire escape was miles, his relaxed demeanor coming as no surprise. His bulky coat, jeans, and Nike airs drawing a small smile to her face.

“Sorry Miles..got a bit distracted. Thinking.” She chuckled under her breath, attempting to break the ice. Miles approached, now leaning against the railing beside her with a hardly noticeable smirk. “So, you’re just gonna pretend you don’t know? Y/N.” His gaze hardened, his eyes now boring into the side of her head. This caused her to close her eyes, a sharp inhale coming from her. “That’s all I can do, ain’t it?” She paused, taking a moment before turning around, now propping her elbows onto the railing. She rested her back against the rusted metal, her shoulders relaxing as her eyes met his. “Miles, I know you’re doing what you think is right..I’m not gonna tell you off or anything. I just- fuck I wish you just told me. You buy me all these things, and earn all this money, and I knew..I knew it wasn’t from anything good. But you being the..” Her voice caught in her throat, her lips pursing together into a thin line as she struggled to speak the name. Miles took notice of this almost immediately. His smirk was gone, now flat teetering on the edge of a frown. His pretty hazel eyes raked up and down her figure before returning to her gaze. He held it, his stare unnerving. “Being the what ma?” He inquired, his brows furrowing ever so slightly. This ticked her off, his attempt to bluff, or change the topic. Or whatever the hell he wanted to call it. She scoffed, her hands raised in defense as she stood from the comfort of the railing. “Are you being serious Miles? You’re just gonna pretend like I don’t know what im talking about? I saw the suit. And you’re always leaving with your uncle to wherever the hell y’all go. Fuck- if you’re just gonna sit here and glare at me then go somewhere.”

“Y/N, chill.” He said. No, commanded, and Y/N did not like that. “The fuck you mean chill? Miles, how are we gonna be in a relationship and you’re just gonna lie to me the entire time? Psh, you can have this back.” She reached behind her neck, pulling the necklace with their initials off and tossing it at him. He caught it almost instinctively, the silver necklace now resting in his palm. He sighed, his hand coming up to rest on his braids. “Cmon mami, don’t be like this. I was only trying to protect you. Don’t you get that man?” He stepped closer, his hand coming to take a hold of hers. He laced his fingers with hers, his pretty eyes focusing in on her. “Why would I tell you something that could get you killed? escúcheme mami.” He let go of her hand, now holding the necklace up and wrapping it around her neck. “I would never want to hurt you, you know this. I didn’t want to tell you that for that reason.” He clipped the necklace together, the shiny metal now resting around her neck. “You know I wouldn’t want you to get hurt, right ma?” She blinked, her stomach swirling with that familiar feeling. Butterflies, this man always gave her butterflies. “Right..I’m sorry I just..-“ He cut in, his hand coming up to cup her cheek. “You’re talking too much ma.” He says before placing a pleasant kiss onto her lips. It’s gentle, patient, and forgiving. It almost has her knees buckling. Her arms wrap around his neck, his hand now finding sanction on her hips. Their lips lingered for a moment, the silence being broken by the honking and chattering of the crime ridden city. And while the city was a complete hell, Miles made everything so worth it. And it was the same for him. Her and his mother kept him going. Slowly they parted, though their noses were now nuzzling against one another as they rested in one another’s arms. “M’proud of you baby..you work so hard for us.” She muttered, which only drew a hum from him.

The two were so immersed in one another that they hadn’t taken notice of Aaron standing at the bottom of the fire escape. His lips curved into a smirk as he watched the two coddle one another. “Yo Miles, Cmon man. You can see your girl later. We got stuff to do.” He shouted up to them, drawing the two from their entanglement. Miles retreated from her arms, a small smile decorating his purple tinted face, the city lights making him look oh so good. “I’ll see you later ma, Ight? And go check on my mom for me yeah? Thanks.” He said as he began to climb down the stairwell. “Te amo mami.” He shouted from the distance. “Love you too baby!” She shouted back gleefully while waving him and Aaron goodbye. And just as you thought he was about to leave, Miles popped back up, strolling over and placing his hand under her chin.

He grasped it lightly, his lips finding hers once more. Yet, this kiss was much more intense. He bit and nipped at her lips, all whilst he watched her face contort, melting into his kiss. The kiss lingered, as did his lips as he pulled away. His pretty hazel eyes took in her flushed out face, his lips curling into a smirk. “Imma send you some money later mami, so you can get your nails done in that color I like. Kay?” He said before finally, he departed. He hopped back down and joined Aaron.

Y/N stood there, her face hot and her body even hotter as she pondered on his words. She knew exactly what he wanted. With one last sigh she retreated back into the open window behind her, her dimly lit bedroom greeting her. Tonight she would go to sleep with a clear conscience, no longer needing to worry about Miles and his secret escapades.

#x reader #Spider-Man #spider man across the spider verse #miles morales #miles morales prowler #prowler #earth 42 #fluff #Miles morales x reader #earth 42 Miles morales x reader

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physalian · 3 months

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Your colloquialisms are ruining the immersion (or, non-contemporary dialogue)

I am no expert here! Whenever I wrote historical fiction it was anachronistic historical fiction. This advice is from a reader’s perspective and from my experience writing high fantasy.

So what’s the deal with immersive dialogue? I’m going to ignore writing dialects and accents and so-called “old English” with the thee, thy, thou and such. Solely focusing here on the narrative telling me this isn’t set in present times, and yet the dialogue being painfully colloquial like present times.

This is coming from a book I had to read set in HRE times. In it, characters were spouting modern curse words, tacking on verbal tics and crutch words like “or something” and “um” and drawing out words like “daaaamn” and “nooooo”. Rip out the dialogue and toss it in a script with zero context and it would read like two high schoolers from 2009, not two adults from the Holy Roman Empire. Which is a problem, because it completely shattered the immersion. —

1. On so-called “formal writing”

Everybody knows that nixing contractions doesn’t do a damn thing to help your writing look more “formal”, it just looks robotic and stiff, right? We’ve gotten past this as a society? There’s a time and a place for replacing contractions with the full words, but not for every single sentence.

I swear this show keeps creeping into my writing advice but here we go. Transformers Prime. The context for Optimus’ dialogue has a lot to do with his aging voice actor, Peter Cullen, and the perception of the character over the decades from the corny 80s paragon hero everyman type leader to the grizzled and wizened old soul type leader. Optimus isn’t “one of the guys,” he’s old. Very old. He’s the dad of the group (one dad, his grumpy medic is the other dad).

So he gets lines like:

“I fear Megatron’s ambition is at its zenith.”

“But if his return is imminent as I fear, it could be a catastrophic.”

“I bore Skyquake no ill-will.”

He doesn’t curse like the other Autobots. His voice only raises in surprise, horror, or rage. He doesn’t go “um/ah/so/but/eh” and always thinks about what he’s going to say well before he says it. Despite him, Ratchet (the dad medic), and Megatron all being very old, Optimus is the only one who’s “proper” and collected and dignified with his lines. The writers didn’t achieve this simply by omitting contractions, he gets them where necessary and removes them when effective (e.g “We do not.” / “We don’t.”)

2. Thesaurus Rex

Continuing with the Optimus example, no other character in that show would use “zenith” unironically. Or “ill-will”. This doesn’t mean crack open and abuse a thesaurus but there’s a huge divide between:

“Megatron’s gone crazy and he’s going to implode soon” and “Megatron’s ambition is at its zenith”.

I can’ think of a better word to use than dignified, perhaps distinguished to describe his dialogue.

He doesn’t say “what?” when he’s confused, he pauses and says something like “please elaborate”.

This is both word choice and a syntax issue so if you’re struggling to fit a non-contemporary vibe for your work, pay attention to both.

3. When to abstain from cursing

There’s something very special about the dialogue in the Lord of the Rings movies: It’s PG-13 so they can’t curse, but if they had, it would have probably ruined the trilogy. These characters are able to yell in rage and anguish, spit vicious insults at their enemies, and stare down armies that are determined to kill them, all while never breaking the immersion.

Insults like:

“Late is the hour in which this conjurer chooses to appear.”

“Keep your forked tongue behind your teeth, you witless worm.”

“Your words are poison.”

And all three were said by or about Grima Wormtongue.

Characters aren’t dumbasses, they’re fools, with the exception of Gollum’s insults toward Sam, the “stupid, fat hobbit”.

Even devoid of name-calling, Denethor absolutely trounces his second son by asking (and I’m paraphrasing) “Is there any man here willing to do his lord’s bidding?” right after Faramir expresses some apprehension about a suicide charge with his remaining soldiers, completely ignoring him and implying that he’s not a real man.

LOTR is full of juicy lines beyond curse words, too. One of my absolute favorites is: “Dark have been my dreams of late” as opposed to “I’ve been having nightmares lately.”

Do you see?? It’s poetry. The motif of Shadow and Darkness as if they’re real, physical things, all the lines of poetry pulled straight from the books like Theoden’s “where is the horse and the rider” monologue just before Helm’s Deep.

It’s dignified.

—

This one was a bit harder to, ironically, put into words without doing a full-blown case study into either franchise’s ability to write dialogue and monologues. I didn’t even talk about Ratchet’s several monologues (one of which was done perfectly in the sound booth on the first take) because Jeffrey Combs has a voice like ambrosia.

TLDR: Immersion goes far beyond your vivid setting descriptors and the clothing or the names and languages. I mostly write fantasy and sci-fi and whenever I read or watch fantasy and sci-fi that isn’t meant to be a world different from our own, or about characters who don’t speak modern English, and they go off with modern slang, syntax, and verbal tics, it just feels sloppy and weak. Pay attention to the following:

Syntax

Modern slang and jargon

Filler words/verbal tics

Curse words/curses

Flat, unmotivated vocab

*All of the quotes were from memory because I watch both of these franchises way too often. So apologies if I got any wrong.

#writing #writing advice #writing resources #writing a book #writing tips #writing tools #writeblr #fantasy #sci fi #writing dialogue #immersion

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noirscript · 1 month

Text

call avoidance.

Yandere Hotline: 3/?

featuring: implied drugging. implied tresspassing. lots of male masturbation. unsolicited phone sex (?). implied kidnapping. AFAB!Reader (yan calling reader mommy)

note: this is written while half-asleep. not edited. brain go brrr. i'll add the src some time.

Dealing with mad people can drive anyone insane. But if you're given a hefty sum to keep the insane ones company, you'll take. Life is tough, but you can choose your own hell.

"Got you some drink. Your favorite flavor," Heidi, your 'neighbor' in cubicle, said cheerfully as she placed the drink and sandwich on your spot.

"Well, who are we kidding." You shook your head before placing the plastic cup in your trash bin along with the tasty sandwich that came with it. "They're really persistent, you know?"

You smiled sheepishly as you arrange your cubicle to start a new day. Unlike your workmates, your place is quite neat and devoid of anything that would identify that spot as yours.

No personal images pinned on the corkboard. Not even a framed picture of whoever inspires you to get up and work hard without becoming insane yourself.

Upon accepting the job offer, you made sure to draw the most visible line to keep your personal life to yourself. You've heard some stories—some myths—about some agents disappearing without any trace overnight. Like they never existed in the first place.

"I hope they fuck off, you know?" You sighed before putting on your noise-cancelling headphones. "May we survive this shift," you grumbled as you wait for the first call with baited breath.

You have frequent customers. Most of them were pleasant to talk to. Let's just say that they're not exactly the dangerous type of callers. Those type clients were, most likely, drawn to the idea of being a 'yandere' as a fantasy. Sometimes, there's a hint of sexualization.

Almost every person on the floor are taking calls. Including you. However, your gut's been telling you to ignore the call. Maybe it's one of those unhinged callers who believes that you're theirs. Like they own you and all of your time.

You still have some available credits for call avoidance since you rarely used your credits. Surely, this one call will not affect your performance rating.

While waiting for the phone to stop ringing, you decided to clean up your work email. Being bombarded with useless newsletters about food and books on sale is the worse. Not only does it make your inbox crowded, it's also spammy.

You were fightung the urge to just select all and delete everything at once when you suddenly heard a notification. One after another.

One from your email, another one from your messaging app, and lastly—from the internal chatroom.

You opened the email with an attachment. It was a blank email but as soon as the preview for the attachment appeared, you almost gagged.

It was an image of a man's cock. There were translucent liquid splattered everywhere while the tip of his dick is on a cup—filled to the brim with iced coffee with foamy top. Your favorite.

Your hands were shaking as you exit the window of the website. You clicked the messaging app first. 'Perhaps it was just a promotional message from one of those companies.'

But no.

It was a message from a private number. You don't have any idea how they did it, but they kept sending you images. Most of them were blurry, but the ones with better quality almost made you vomit.

It was taken in a small room. At first, the room was dark, but eventually the image light up. His face was blurred, but you could clearly see what he was doing.

He was fucking your pillow. The one you've been using since you've moved in a better place with better security.

You were confused. And scared.

How could he easily enter your place? Your keys are with you and only the management has access to other duplicates.

"No way..." you whispered as you close the messaging app's window.

One bomb was dropped after another. And you knew something's off.

[NOTICE OF TERMINATION]

Due to multiple reports of call avoidance and drop calls, the management has decided to relieve you from your position as an agent effective immediately.

As we value your well-being, rest assured that you will be receiving your full payment for the next three months along with the other benefits that the company has sworn to provide you.

We sincerely appreciate your efforts for the last three years. We wish you all the best from this day forward.

You were devastated, yet relieved upon reading the letter. You've been wanting to receive this for months. It was the only way out of this place and this industry. You've also managed to save up a lot that you can start fresh somewhere. Far from this place.

Another phone call managed to bypass the automatic system of the place. You took a deep breath before accepting the call.

"Hello?"

"I can't... wait... haah..." the man on the line was clearly doing himself. By the eay he sounds, he's probably close. "We'll move to a big house... haah... hngg... a baby, a babyyy... nhnn... come home..."

Your eyes widened upon hearing your name. Not the screen name you gave them, but your legal full name.

"Let me... hngg... make you a mommy... d'you want that, huh?" You could a wet sloppy noises in the background. "Tiny baby... sucking on your tits... while I make a mess out of you?"

"Ap—"

"No need for... apologies..." he was breathing heavily. "I'll see you soon, okay?

"Heimdall."

He chuckled. "That's me, my princess... took you long enough to say my name."

"How did you get into my house?" you asked while gritting your teeth.

"Patience, my love. We could talk all about it once you're home. Should I get you something to eat? Chicken? Cake? Sandwich? Coffee?"

"I'm done with you."

You immediately pressed the end call button before gathering your things and left. Not even a farewell to your friends.

But there's something you should probably know.

Heidi can't wait to be an aunt and to be your sister-in-law!

#yandere #yandere male #noirscript: yandere hotline #yandere hotline #yandere blog #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yancore #yandere imagines #yandere fic #dead dove do not eat #tw.dark content #yandere x darling #male yandere x y/n #male yandere x you #male yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere x y/n #yandere x you

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vampiricgf · 2 months

Text

— v. lycaon | BRAND NEW CHERRY FLAVOR

warnings : fem reader, ignore that we don't know his age exactly im guessing, ruts, knotting for the first time, rina is mentioned but only because she's meddling, fingering, masturbation, begging, reader is smaller than him, reader has a tramp stamp, virgin lycaon, cervix fucking, biting/marking, blood/blood licking, creampie, crying, sorry if I missed anything

wc : 2.5k+

this is so long im sorry im too obsessed with the idea of him being a virgin lmao >.< also sorry if there's mistakes it's not edited so

He thought upon hiring you on with Victoria Housekeeping things would largely remain the same, the only difference being having one more person with whom to split the existing workload of clientele contracts and commissions. An easy choice thinking of himself and Rina, the primary adults within the company.

It had been difficult as of late, he could acknowledge that, balancing taking on the bulk of the work while the companies other two employees attended their schooling and other engagements that typically keep younger people occupied. And truly he didn't mind it, it was the duty of those older to pick up the slack, allow youth it's time to blossom and explore.

That was not the issue, though. The issue was you.

Not your work performance, no that was impeccable. You had impressed him enough during your interviews but in practical work you went even beyond that, showing an exemplary aptitude for even the most banal tasks. The picture of a perfectly competent maid and (occasional) hollow raider. Even able to both meet and exceed his own impossibly high standards per all the glowing reviews he receives from clients, truly you were a fantastic addition to the company.

The problem arose months ago, when you two had been tasked with a more unconventional commission involving a hollow. Of course danger was always ever present in those ether soaked spaces, both from the impending malformed creatures that called them home and from the levels of ether itself. The risk of warping and twisting the body into a cruel mockery of what once was, imbibing it with sickness.

It was the first time you'd actually worked side by side, he'd asked you to come with him as a sort of test not because he thought he really needed the backup. See how you'd been progressing, what you were like on the job, that sort of thing. A completely normal request for a boss to make, all things considered.

What had not been normal was allowing himself to be caught on the back foot, surprised. You were... painfully distracting to him. A major shortcoming on his part, it was nothing you were doing overtly to draw his attention in such a laser focused way it just seemed like he had a bizarre inclination to keep his attention on you. The way you walked, that delicious sway of your hips. That thing you did when you were thinking, running your thumb across your bottom lip. The smell of shampoo clinging to your hair and wafting over him every time you so much as turned your head. Sugary, faintly floral. Horribly distracting.

Giving some stray hati a prime opportunity to pounce. Neither of you had noticed them creeping up on your perimeter, stalking you both as you picked through the skeletons of abandoned, crumbling homes and businesses. You too busy nervously chattering away and him too busy thinking about how much he enjoyed the sound of your voice.

One moment there had been nothing and in another there was everything happening all at once. Their predatory howls, the initiation of combat. The ring of your weapon as it hit against their stone manes, the crunch of his ice against newly exposed flesh. His eyes frantically trying to keep you in his line of sight at all times, take advantage of the path you left in your wake to give the finishing blow, giving yet another perfect opening for one of the creatures to tackle him full force, the brute strength of it slamming against his side and laying him out shamefully against cracked concrete, knocking the air from his lungs in a painful squeeze.

But there you had been, like some kind of avenging angel from artworks of the old civilization. Your features were highlighted by the look of sheer anger as you mercilessly dug the weapon in your hands into the creatures back, ripping away its advantage and successfully dispatching it within seconds. He could feel how wide his own eyes were, but felt too much acute discomfort to bother trying to mask his own awe.

Not since he was a pup had he needed rescuing.

Not since he was once so pathetically, terribly young had he felt so immediately endeared to someone else.

You were on your knees beside him, fussing over him, eyes sweeping around for any signs of injury or blood. He knew there was none, would have smelled it immediately, but nevertheless he allowed himself to enjoy your ministrations. The way your hands so carefully hovered over him, trying to be mindful of thiren preferences for touch while also trying to be caring, attentive. It was sickeningly sweet of you, made him swear for a second he could taste it in the air, feel granuals of sugar grinding within his teeth. He wondered if your lips tasted even half as sweetly.

"Are you hurt anywhere, should we leave the hollow? An emergency exit is understandable, right? If you're hurt?" Your eyes met him, practically welling over with concern.

He had wanted to hold your face in his hands, soothe you. Almost immediately he'd been gripped by the horror of his own impropriety.

Clearing his throat he took the hand you offered as leverage to get back on his feet, taking note of your warmth, the surprisingly strong grip of your fingers, before you withdrew. Soft, yet capable. Beautiful.

"There's no need. We can continue on with the commission." It took a monstrous effort to keep his voice neutral, act as if nothing of note was running rampant inside his head.

From the on the feelings he had towards you only grew, like a beast growing fat off plentiful prey. Every glance from you, every accidental touch of hands, every moment of conspiratorial laughter shared between you at something silly one of the others had done. Months and months of feeling his heart rate grow increasingly erratic every time your lovely voice would sound out in the mornings, always a perfectly cheerful greeting towards him and the others before you began your work.

And so here he is, mid rut and miserable. Thrusting into his own hand, as he's done so many times before, feeling the sweltering heat in his bedroom and bubbling frustration in his head at the feeling of tangled sheets and the distinct lack of any partner to be thrusting up into.

He'd called into work, voice twinged with embarrassment because how on earth had he forgotten about his incoming rut? Well, he knew how. Because you consumed almost every moment of his waking inner thoughts, distracted him to such an insane degree he failed to fill his suppressant prescription in time. Thankfully Rina hadn't needed details, always too clever by half, but it didn't stop him from feeling intense shame rolling through him even just knowing someone else knew what exactly was going on with him.

Sickness, uh huh. Try so horny and hard he could crack a brick wall in half. The thought made him feel so erratic he couldn't help but grab a nearby pillow, pressing it to his face, feeling his now neglected cock throbbing as he bit the soft down surface so hard he could feel his teeth punching right through the material.

You, you, you, you, you.

All he wants is to lap at what he's sure is the sweetest taste in the world nestled between your legs, feel your body stretching and accommodating his size, tell you how he's going to give you his knot and watch your pretty eyes glaze over and your breasts bounce in time with his thrusts, dig his teeth into your neck, your chest, make you squeal and squirm so he can pin you down-

A few distant, tentative raps against wood.

Did he imagine that?

Tap, tap, tap.

No, no he didn't. Who would be knocking in the middle of the day? Oh god, what if it was a neglected client that had tracked down his address? Someone angry one of the girls had forgotten or completely ignored their commission? His breathing was strained, nearly wheezing as he rushed to make himself somewhat presentable, cringing as he struggled to slide trousers over his impossibly obvious erection. No time to brush down his severely disarrayed fur. How humiliating.

As he scrambles for the front door, flinging it open so hard it nearly crashes against the wall, he freezes.

Why the hell are you here? How do you even know where he lives?

Your eyes go impossibly wide as you take him in, the awkward silence ballooning in the space between you and he's acutely aware of how crazed he must look as his claws dig into the metal of the door handle.

"I'm... I'm sorry for dropping in it's just that- well, Miss Rina told me you were sick and I kind of... begged for your address so I could come check on you, I'm sorry-"

You cut yourself off from rambling, picking at your nails as your eyes flit around nervously.

Of course Rina would give you his address, mischievous as she is. She knew exactly what was going on with his little juvenile crush, his rut. Calling in probably gave her the idea.

But all that was far from his most pressing concern at the moment. You couldn't be here, absolutely not. He cleared his throat, trying to ignore that familiar shampoo scent, trying to ignore the way you look especially lovely, how easy it would be to yank you inside and just-

"I appreciate your concern, but I'll be perfectly fine. I just need to rest." Blunt enough to make him feel bad for rejecting your kindness but the boundary needs to be in place before he does something highly inappropriate. You're coworkers, not casual friends. Every thought he has about you is crossing a line.

A snide inner voice comes out of the blue and he can't focus on what you're saying, too consumed by shame.

As if you'd even know what to do with her anyway.

It must show on his face, although you misunderstand it, because you give him a look of naked concern and he's snapped back into focus. "Do you need me to call a doctor for you? I have my car, I can take you to White Waves if you need to go Lycaon it's no problem-"

"No, no it's nothing that serious." He's losing control of the situation, needs to get you out of here.

"Well, at least let me make you tea or something to eat, please. You look like you haven't eaten all day." Your worried tone makes his pathetic resolve crumble easily, like it was made of sand.

Against his better judgement he relents, awkwardly stepping to the side to let you in the door and a part of him preens at the way your scent immediately compliments his own, mingling in the space as if you inherently belong there. If he had the energy to feel it he'd be embarrassed about the state of his apartment, in disarray as it is. But you don't pay any attention, immediately finding your way to his kitchen and digging through his cabinets like you've done it a thousand times.

Watching you makes him even harder, throbbing and aching so acutely in his pants that his vision momentarily goes fuzzy at the edges. You look so domestic, so relaxed. A bolt of jealousy fires off in his brain, white hot, at the fact that numerous clients have gotten to see you in a similar way before him. Your casual clothes aren't helping him keep control of himself either.

Jeans that accentuate the swell of your ass, the shape of your hips. A tank top that's ridden up slightly, exposing a bit of your stomach as you stretch up to reach the higher spots in a cabinet. He wants to run his tongue over your belly, lick his way up to your chest, leave little love bites across your throat. As you turn to the counter beside the stove he catches a glimpse of a tattoo on your lower back and his jaw flexes so tightly he's shocked his teeth don't shatter in his mouth. He never knew you had one, but it certainly suits you. He wants to know if you have any more, in any hidden places.

"You should lay down, I can bring this to you when its finished," you say it so gently but he can't bring himself to move away, to risk missing a single glimpse of you.

He says nothing and you don't try to press him, to your credit. But when you can't quite reach the top of another cabinet, where hes kept tea tucked away neatly, his instincts to help take over before he can register that his body has moved beside you, hand going over top of yours to easily grab the box. But the way your forearms brush on the way back down makes him drop the box, a shockingly loud clatter that causes a dozen deep fissures to spread in his mind.

He's got ahold of your wrist before you can react, keeping you so physically close to himself that if he took a half step forward you'd be chest to chest. He can smell sugar on your breath, see the red twinge on your tongue from candy you must've had on the way over.

It doesn't even register that his eyes are closed, that your mouth is on his, that his tongue is lapping up the secondhand taste of cherries as it slides across yours and your fingers grasp the rumpled fabric of his shirt. It's like a moment suspended in cut crystal, refracted in a thousand different ways to the outside observer, a million different angles of this one frozen scene, and he wants to hold it forever in his hands.

Hold you forever.

But you pull away and his first instinct is to follow after you, body bending even further to chase your lips as you struggle to catch your breath. Your bodies remain impossibly close as you speak, his eyes never leaving your lips, memorizing the curve of them.

"I don't- I didn't mean-" you're struggling and he can't bear it, can't bear the thought that this one beautiful moment is tainted by the nature of your overall relationship as employees, even worse is that he truly doesn't care. It should scandalize him, shame him in some way, but it doesn't. That fact feels extremely far removed from his current reality and the feeling of even more blood rushing to his lower body.

He cuts you off bluntly. "How much do you know about beast thirens?"

You gape, having been cut off with what is to your view an extremely out of place question but he's hoping you'll follow the thread. "What?"

"How much do you know? Because Rina wasn't exactly... truthful with you." His eyes skirt away from your face but hes committed to telling you what's going on. "I'm not ill, not in the way you're thinking. I'm, well, going through what's called a rut." There's a heavy pause. "The need to... mate."

He cringes internally on the final word, finally meeting your eyes and watching you put it all together. Your own eyes are adorably wide, but you don't pull away from him and that takes him by surprise. He'd figured the second you knew you'd be in a rush to leave, probably drop a resignation call to Victoria Housekeeping on your way home.

But you don't do any of those things, merely taking it in and continuing to let your eyes travel over his unkempt appearance and he's even more aware, if that's possible, of how needy he feels. Any longer without relief and he just might need to take himself to White Waves Hospital. But that's not your problem.

"I mean... That's just a natural thing for you, right? It's not like you're some perv," you laugh nervously, "and maybe- maybe it wouldn't be so bad if you had a little... help?"

His brain feels like a damaged, glitching bangboo. Are you seriously offering this?

"What I'm trying to say is that I- I like you, and I don't care that we kissed. Well, I care but I'm not upset by it. And I'm not upset that you're, like this right now," you gesture with your chin, "and if you need someone then... I can help you with it. If you want." You finish in a rush, clearly embarrassed and something rears its head deep in his stomach.

There's no more room for coherent though as he finds your lips again, nipping at the bottom one before taking advantage of your little gasp to slide his tongue back in your mouth. He turns you slightly, so your back meets the edge of the countertop with his hands massaging at your hips, groping obscenely at your ass. The barrier of your clothes is frustrating, making him growl low in his throat before he's deftly unbuttoning and unzipping them, fingers trembling at you help push them and your underwear down to puddle at your ankles.

You squeal as he lifts you easily to set you atop the counter spreading your legs in his firm grip while your own fingers curl around the marble edge of the counter, gasping as he kisses and sucks against the flesh of your inner thighs as he makes his way towards your pussy. He can smell how aroused you are and it spurs his instincts on, despite the sliver of anxiety working against his lust.

He's marveling at you, sliding two fingers through your wetness, spreading you to see the way you glisten with the slick liquid and he can feel your eyes on him.

"I've, I'm sorry, I've just never been with anyone." The last half of the sentence is heavy on his tongue, one crimson eye shyly avoiding your own before you reach down to cup his face in one hand.

The small smile on your face is sweet, purely gentle and it eases the nerves gnawing at his stomach.

"Never?" He shakes his head and you tilt your head to the side, "Then just watch for a second."

And it's mesmerizing, the way your fingers delicately dip down into your own wetness, dragging up to your clit before your fingers start slowly circling. He watches intently, watching the way your pace slowly builds, your hips twitching ever so slightly at the stimulation before you move back down and slide those two fingers inside yourself.

And the sight is like something religious to him, totally enraptured at the way your pussy swallows the two digits, the way your head tips back and your lips part in a silent sigh. It's not long before the soft squelching sound of your fingers scissoring against your walls reaches his ears, making them flick as he zeros in on it.

With a breathy laugh you pull your hand away but before it gets out of reach he grabs it, bringing your soaked fingers to his mouth before locking eyes with you, tongue tasting every bit of yourself that lingers against the skin.

He thinks your demonstration was a good enough starting point, no longer too nervous as his tongue starts licking long stripes up your pussy and you let out a high pitched sound at the contact. It makes him eager to please, focusing all his attention on licking and sucking at your clit while his fingers find your entrance.

The stretch of you is better than anything his imagination could've conjured up, feeling your walls part around his digits as he gives a few experimental curls and strokes. He can hear you nearly choking on your own noises above him and it sends satisfaction oozing through his body, washing over him like thick drops of syrup.

But he's impatient, whining against your cunt and you seem to know what he needs without him even voicing it. Just another reason to be so enamored with you.

You drag him up to stand, hands urging him to strip and he does so gladly, nearly jumping out of his own skin he's so flush with excitement at having you soaking wet and ready to take him, right there in the middle of his kitchen.

It makes his head spin as his cock springs free, groaning as he feels the air against his overly sensitive girth. Your mouth opens slightly as you take in the sight of him and that earlier shyness returns with a vengeance, but before he can speak your hand wraps around him, barely able to grasp all of him. The surge of pride is something he's entirely unfamiliar with but he relishes in it all the same, desperately wants to please you.

"Just try to start slow, okay?" You say, breath hitching in your throat as you guide the head of his cock through your folds before positioning him at your entrance.

And he takes the lead flawlessly, one hand against the counter to anchor himself and the other gripping your thighs, kneading the soft flesh between his fingers as he pushes in. It's torturous, the howling need to just slam right into you as he feels his head sitting heavy and thick inside you, your breathing already ragged and your eyes fluttering closed.

But he knows this requires patience, for the moment. The last thing he wants to do is hurt you, hurt the trust you've placed in him, so his hips move barely an inch at a time and the feeling of your body reshaping itself around his cock is one hundred times more incredible than just his fingers.

What a pathetic comparison his hand ever was, the real thing will never be beaten out. Your whimpers increase in frequency as the head of him kisses your cervix, his swollen knot nestled tightly between his own body and your slick pussy. As he looks down at your connected bodies he can't help but wonder if you'll even have the ability to take it, but he doesn't get to give it much more thought because you start slowly wiggling your hips, encouraging him to move.

And once again he follows your lead like it was the only role he was meant for, pulling out with agonizing gentleness before pushing himself back inside you and he can't help the way his mouth drops open, the way his eyes screw shut. Does it feel like this for everyone, like they've died on the spot and been given an express ticket to heaven?

He doesn't have the wherewithall to feel any embarrassment at the way he's panting, nearly drooling on you, the way he's keening and growling like some fledgling but you don't seem to mind it. Not with your fingers digging into his fur, your legs loosely locked around his hips, the way you say his name in a half gasp.

His fingers slide down between your bodies as you pull him closer, into a heated kiss made of teeth clacking together and tongues pushing against one another. He swallows your every noise as he starts playing with your clit, just the way he watched you do it earlier. Rubbing sticky little hearts against it and nipping at your lips as your legs jerking, the muscles straining and flexing beneath the skin.

His canines scrape a path from your mouth to your jaw to your throat as his hips pick up speed, jostling your body with so much force your cries take on a higher pitch and your fingers pull at his fur sharply, only adding to the overall sensory delight. He tests your tolerance with his teeth, shallow bites in between sucking on the skin of your throat, groaning as he feels your hand slide up to cup the back of his head, feels the flesh pull taut as you let your head tilt even further to the side.

Giving him permission. His mind is swimming through a black sea of pure instinct, running his tongue over the flesh in silent apology for the pain you'll experience but he won't pass up the opportunity. You're allowing him to indulge, playing to his base instincts. How could he not gobble up the bait? And with that loose thought his canines dig into you, the fine points of them puncturing the skin and a trickle of iron washes over his tongue.

You cry out, pussy immediately squeezing him in a stranglehold at the same time your fingers yank at his scruff but it's not to stop him, it's like the string of a bow being pulled all the way back. Your toes curl in midair, practically sobbing as your hips buck wildly and he thinks this must be it, this must be what a human is like when they cum.

Later he'll examine the fact that you came at exactly the moment he inflicted that little bit of pain on you but for now he's lost in it, hips moving in no particular rhythm anymore as he fucks you through your orgasm, fuck you through the impossible tightness of your cunt, and he can feel it like a second heartbeat fluttering in between your legs as his tongue slides against the blood threatening to drip down to your breast.

And all too soon he feels his balls tightening up, his knot throbbing in time with the pulsing of your cunt and his movements are cruel now, all fueled by pure instinct as he grinds and fucks into you with shameless desperation. His knot needs to be inside you before he cums, he can't spill anywhere but inside you.

And his clumsy, less than elegant method works when he feels that tight ring of muscle at your entrance stretch to its limits and the almost too snug pop of all of himself finally sliding inside. You hiccup on a particularly loud sob as it does, legs snapping against his hips with such finality he doesn't move against your hold, remains standing as his body shakes, his cock twitching as sticky spurts of cum flood your pussy, whining at the way your walls practically suck it all deeper inside, milking him so much it's overwhelming.

It goes on for so much longer than he ever thought possible, the sheer amount of cum making him feel dizzy, like he's lost blood and is teetering on the edge of passing out. But he can't focus on the feeling, instead guiltily kissing every part of your face he can, trying to wipe away the saltwater tracks and then cradling your head against his chest as you bury your face in his fur, feeling the way you're trying to even out your breathing.

You speak before he can, his tongue like a wad of wet cotton in his mouth.

"How- how long are we stuck together?" You manage to force the words out unsteadily, pulling back to meet his gaze before nuzzling your face against his jaw.

His heads still spinning as he answers. "I don't really know," he breathes in harshly, "I'm sorry if its uncomfortable."

He can feel you shake your head. "It's not," your voice becomes shy, still thick with the aftermath of your orgasm, "I like the feeling of you inside me."

He can't help the dopey smile that crosses his face, fingers stroking down your back as he ignores the way his legs shake, the way his knot pulses. When you're no longer tied together he'll need to lay down before he collapses on the spot.

Already that thought invites visions of clutching you to his chest while you straddle his hips, cock thrusting in and out of you at a volatile pace all over again. He'll make it up to you once the fog of lust is lifted, but you most likely won't be leaving this apartment in the coming days.

He'll have to remember to call in for you tomorrow, sure to hear Rinas smug voice on the other end of the line.

#txt ☆ˎˊ˗#von lycaon smut #von lycaon x reader #zzz smut #zzz x reader #zenless zone zero smut #von lycaon #zenless zone zero x reader

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endieinwonderland · 5 months

Text

Let The Light In: Part 1

Part 2 Part 3

Words: 1,448

Pairing: Paige Bueckers/Media Manager! Reader

Warnings: Angst, Friends to enemies (but the reader doesn’t know why they’re enemies), reader is actually so in the wrong, angst no comfort.

A/N: This is officially the second thing I’ve written, and it marks the beginning of the first series I’ve started. That being said, my ambition doesn’t necessarily match my skill set, so critiques are more than welcome. Thank you for bearing with me! 🙏 😭 ❤️

"Alright, ladies, let's get this show on the road! We need everyone to go to their assigned positions, please! If you've forgotten where you go, check the initials on the tape on the floor to find your spot. We’ll be around in five to remove it and to check the lighting," Charlie's voice booms through a megaphone, slicing through the bustling energy of the gym.

At her direction, people begin shuffling around at once. The UConn women’s basketball team quickly finds their spots, joking amongst themselves while you and the photography team works around them, trying to make everything perfect.

“Hey C, we need a light in the left corner!" you call out, your voice faltering as you notice a stubborn piece of tape left on the floor.

Rolling your eyes, you kneel to peel it off with a quick tug, adding it to the growing collection in your clenched fist, freezing only momentarily when you see the bold ‘P.B.’ written across it.

‘Shit.’

You swivel on your heel, turning away from the woman in front of you before standing and scurrying back to the safety of your monitor.

“All good?” Charlie nudges your shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah, all good. We should probably get started.”

She nods, picking up the megaphone again. “Okay, thank you everyone for your patience. We’re all ready! Let’s start with some smiles, okay?” You attach your camera to the tripod before looking back at the monitor. “1..2..3, and get ready for flashes please!” You shout, clicking the shutter button a few times, turning to look at the pictures as they upload to the large screen in front of you.

A few murmurs of "looks good" echo as others look over your shoulder, but something feels off.

Noticing your hesitation, Charlie walks over and looks at the screen before speaking up. “Hey, number 5, can you twist a bit to your left, please? You’re turning away from the group.”

Recognizing the issue immediately, she calls out to Paige, who keeps her eyes fixed on Charlie as she moves, avoiding your gaze.

“Better?” Asks Charlie.

“Better.”

You return to the camera, taking a few more shots, occasionally shouting out instructions for different facial expressions until you get a thumbs-up from your boss, signaling it’s time to move on to individual shots.

“Okay, starting with last names in alphabetical order, can we please get Ms. Bueckers out first?”

Seeing her name was one thing, but hearing it is an entirely different story. You can’t suppress your reaction this time, your breath catching in your throat.

You hear her before you see her, steps echoing through the gym before standing in front of you for the first time in a year, completely emotionless as she stares directly into the camera, startling you with the indirect eye contact as you look through the lens.

“What are we going for?” she asks, turning to Charlie, completely ignoring your presence.

“Let’s start out serious, and we’ll move on from there?” You can barely hear Charlie’s directions over the ringing in your ears.

‘You’re a professional, be professional.’

You steel yourself before turning to Paige. “Give me a game day face,” she doesn’t look at you when you speak, instead choosing to continue to stare down the camera as if it's committed some personal offense against her. She crosses her arms, drawing her lips into a tight line as you click the shutter a few times.

You’re working on autopilot, taking shot after shot when something stops you, something's wrong. You look up to see Paige's gaze set on you now. The intensity of her stare unnerving, and you almost feel guilty for having captured it.

Your hesitation and the absence of your shutter clicking doesn’t go unnoticed. A hand taps your shoulder, startling you. Your boss, Leo, is behind you, softly shaking his head.

“Hey, you can stop. We can’t use these.” You turn to Paige, then back to Leo, a shocked “Why not?” leaving your mouth before you can stop it.

He sighs as he wraps an arm around your shoulder. “Come look at them with me, please,” he motions, guiding you back to the monitor.

You clickon the last picture you took and turn back to Leo. “I mean, the lighting's fine, focus is good, I don’t get what’s the matter with it.”

He says nothing in response, instead just leaning over to zoom in on Paige’s face, or rather her eyes which are swimming in unshed tears.

“We can’t use these,” he repeats lowly before turning away from you.

“Can we get a few shots with Ms. Brady, please?”

You turn back to where Paige had been standing, but she’s no longer there; you barely catch sight of her exiting the gym, Caroline and Azzi hot on her tail.

“What’s her deal?” Charlie mutters, standing at your side again. Tearing your attention away from the gym doors.

“Hell if I know,” you reply with a shrug, feigning nonchalance before walking back to your camera and turning to face Ice.

“We'll start with a few dribbling shots if that's okay with you?”

The media team quickly snaps back into action, and within six hours, almost everything is done, setting what might genuinely be a new media day record.

Exhausted, you slump down onto the bleachers, hoping to close your eyes for a few moments. But Leo’s hand tapping on your shoulder interrupts you for the second time today .

"We need to have a chat," he says, giving you a stern look. Nodding, you rise to follow your boss back to the monitor where a new picture of Paige is displayed.

"Listen, I'm not sure what the deal was with the first set of pictures you shot, or if her reaction had anything to do with you at all," You open your mouth to defend yourself when he raises his hand to stop you. "No, I don’t need to know if something happened between you two, I just need to know if you think she’d be okay with you trying again, because please look at these." He points to the monitor; the pictures aren't bad per se but they are—for lack of a better phrase—lifeless.

Her posing feels forced and the angles aren’t her best. You’ve taken enough photos of her to know what works, and the man photographing her now, Will, simply hasn't captured her effectively.

"We need to be professionals and make sure all the players are comfortable at all times, so I want you to really think about it," Leo finishes before stepping away, leaving you alone at the monitor, staring as new pictures of the blonde appear on the screen, each one worse than the last.

"Charlie!" you call out, waiting for her to approach.

"What do you think of these?"

She glances at the photos and shrugs, "I love Will, but you could do better."

"Leo thinks I should try again."

She tries, but fails to hide her surprise, "Are you sure Paige would be okay with that?"

Shrugging, you reply "I don't see why not; we didn't have a falling out, she just stopped talking to me."

After a pause, you add, "But I will speak to Will first to see if we can fix this without me behind the camera."

Charlie nods and goes to fetch Will, who is at your side in moments, eager to leave his camera -or rather, eager to leave Paige.

“You should be taking these," he insists before lowing his voice to a whisper, "She's tough to work with."

At this, you have to suppress a laugh; you know Paige’s capabilities well, she knew how to work a camera, it almost is impossible to take a bad picture of her.

"Have you tried letting her move during the shoot? Start with serious expressions; she starts goofing around after 15 minutes, and you'll miss the good shots. Then again, she'll probably be more professional with you than she was with me."

Will rolls his eyes, "I've tried everything." He motions back to his camera, “You should just give it another go."

After a brief motivational speech from Charlie and Will you resign yourself, approaching the camera once more.

“Is it okay if I try?” you find yourself asking softly, speaking to Paige properly for the first time in months.

She stares at you like a deer caught in headlights before quickly composing herself. A weak “yeah” is the only response you get, and it’s enough for you to feel comfortable quickly re-adjusting the camera and taking the first successful picture of Paige today.

She responds to you instantly, a forced grin quickly spreads across her face as you give a thumbs up, signaling for her to change poses. You both quickly fall into your old routine.

15 minutes in, you're constantly adjusting Will’s camera as she moves around, dribbling a ball, crossing her arms, and giving the camera a fierce look, then grinning ear to ear, her movements well-rehearsed from years of experience in front of your lens.

You only stop when an excited “We got it, guys!” is heard over the sounds of your shutter.

Leo, turns the monitor towards you where what might end up being one of the best pictures you’ve ever taken of her is displayed on the bright screen.

Before you can stop yourself, you’ve turned towards Paige, a proud smile stretched across your face. “Good job!”

A brief nod is all you get in response before she mutters a quick “thanks” in your direction.

The rest of the media team receives much more sincere thank yous, and she exits the gym quickly, leaving you alone to wonder the same question that always plagues you after seeing her: ‘What the hell happened to us?’

#paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers #paige buckets #uconn wbb #wcbb #wcbb x reader #wlw #paige bueckers angst #uconn huskies #paige bueckers fanfiction #paige bueckers headcannons #fanfic #angst #wbb

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holylulusworld · 5 months

Text

Every breath you take (Prologue)

Summary: There is a shadow following you. He doesn’t know what he got himself into.

Pairing: Stalker!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: stalking, being stalked, loneliness, a man out of time

A/N: We start slow to get to know them and their backstory. In this part it's Bucky.

A/N2: You all made me do it! Here’s the series to this random idea: Stalker Bucky & Crazy Reader

Every Breath You Take Masterlist

James Buchanan Barnes lost so much in his life that he doesn’t even know how he keeps on going.

He lost his family.

He lost his life.

He lost his arm.

He lost his freedom.

He lost himself.

He lost his best friend. Steve Rogers - the only person connecting his past with his present. The one promising him till the end of the line. Well, the line wasn’t very long he thinks ever so often.

He walks the streets in a place he doesn’t recognize anymore. In a world that is so different from the one he used to know.

Before Hydra everything was simple.

Now, strangers stare at him, whispering behind his back while others ignore him.

Bucky is not the most social person. He mostly stays to himself. Who wants to befriend the former winter soldier anyway?

In his opinion, it’s for the best to not even try. This doesn’t mean that he never feels lonely. He often strolls through town and watches people with their families.

Bucky wishes he could’ve someone by his side too. A woman who doesn’t judge him for his past, or for the issues he still has.

How does a super-soldier and former brainwashed killer find such a woman?

No woman will ever let him protect and spoil her. That’s all he wants. Find a pretty doll to take care of.

“Coffee. Black,” Bucky gruffly tells the barista his order. All the different drinks on their menu confuse the super-soldier. Why drink an iced coffee with some crazy flavor if you can have the best drink in the world? Black coffee.

The barista smiles at him. Her cheeks dimple and she batts her long fake lashes when Bucky holds her gaze for a moment.

“Thanks,” he pays and tips her well. Bucky may be a lot of things, but he isn’t the kind of person who does not appreciate other people’s work.

“Have a good day,” the woman chirps when he turns around to leave the cafe. Bucky doesn’t react. He stops in his tracks as someone else catches his attention.

“Doll,” Bucky gasps loudly. The woman passing the coffee shop by is the one he almost ran into last month. This must be fate. Right?

He walks out of the coffee shop, to follow the woman. She’s greeting the elderly owner of the bookstore Bucky discovered a few weeks ago.

The man immediately smiles and straightens his back. He makes a joke and calls her by her name. “Hello Y/N!” The man says and waves back.

“Y/N,” Bucky murmurs your name. “Wow…doll…” He’s taken aback. His heart sped up for a second seeing you again. Now that he has heard your voice, he wants it to be the only sound he’ll hear for the rest of his life.

He strolls past the bookstore and follows you along the street. Whenever you stop to look at the window display at the different stores you must pass by to reach your home, he stops too and pretends to be interested in the products he’ll never buy.

At the end of the street, Bucky tilts his head to watch you walk away. He’ll wait a little longer to follow you. The experienced super-soldier doesn’t want to draw attention toward him. He doesn't want to scare you off. All he wants is to get to know you better…

Right across the street. You live right across the street.

Bucky’s heart did somersaults when he followed you to your home only to realize that you were living in the building across the street.

He didn’t try to make friends or to get to know his neighbors. This way he missed that he could look inside your windows.

It’s five hours later that he’s sitting on a chair, in a dark room to watch you talk on the phone. You wrinkle your forehead and close your eyes.

“Hmm…I think she’s having a bad day, Alpine,” Bucky tells his cat while following your every move with his brand-new binoculars. “Maybe we should do something nice for her. Like finding out who made her sad…”

And just like that, Bucky has a new mission...

Every Breath You Take (1)

Tags in reblog.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #tw: stalking #stalker!bucky barnes x reader #female reader #bucky barnes x you #Every breath you take (Prologue)#bucky barnes x y/n

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kookslastbutton · 4 months

Text

Those Eyes Chico ༓ myg (m) | chapter two

✑ Summary: As the new marketing director for Min Yoongi’s upcoming D-Day album & tour, you’re expected to bring your expertise to the table. This shouldn’t be a problem—you’re the best in the business and you’re used to drawing a strict line between your professional and personal life. But what happens when the lines you’ve fought to keep as separate blur for the first time?

pairing: idol!yoongi x plus size!poc!reader

genre/AU: angst, fluff, smut, slowburn, coworkers2friends2lovers, winter setting, forbidden love

word count: 6.1k+

warnings: This chapter in particular is written from Yoongi's perspective, oc is 28, Yoon is 30, oc is not originally from South Korea, oc has light brown eyes, swearing, mentions of alcohol consumption, smoking, mentions of body shaming by Hybe executive, bestie!tae is wonderful support 🥹, light fighting between members (literally crack), Namjoon has a little crush, Oc being a total boss at work bc she is amazing at her job, and cute & meaningful Yoon and OC interactions that make them finally start bonding (a little flirty too, hehe) 😉

now playing: Sweet Dreams by The Last Shadow Puppets

a/n: CHAPTR TWO IS HERE! GOD...the slow burn exists outside the series too with me not updating for two months. I'm sorry guys but TYSM for your patience! I'm VERY excited to release this chapter bc I think Yoon & Oc are super cute, hehe. Okay anyway, this series is dedicated to my wonderfully crazy friend and sorta beta, Gloom @theuselessdaydreamingidiot, and to all our fellow Yoon lovers bc we miss our sweet man SO MUCH 🥺 Enjoy! 🥰 Also huge thank you to @itaeewon for designing this beautiful series header! Love it!!

Series Masterlist | next chapter >>

Yoongi stands with his hands placed loosely on his hip, chest heaving as he attempts to catch his breath. The seven of them had been practicing choreography for their new RUN BTS song nonstop when Jimin called for a much-needed, fifteen-minute break. There’s a part of him that’s thanking the younger for it and another that’s wishing he hadn’t, as every moment left alone with his thoughts is spent decoding his last encounter with you at the cafeteria.

Why had you made such a beeline for the exit the moment he was waved over by his member?

You also completely ignored his attempts to greet you on your way out. He only stopped by the cafeteria to slip an orange in his pocket before returning to his studio. He didn’t mean to intrude or incite that you had to leave with his sudden presence.

Taehyung assured him that you merely left to tend to work matters, which he’d typically sum as hyper-fixation with one’s work as he’s prone to do the same, but this felt different at its core. Your behavior seemed more intentional than that. The last thing he wants to do is misread the whole situation, but he must’ve done or said something to cause your uneasiness.

“Hyung, how did the album meeting go this morning?” A clear voice comes from Yoongi's left as his fellow band member, Namjoon, strides next to him, water bottle clenched in his fist. Like himself, large droplets of sweat dots around the man’s brow. The minor interruption shakes Yoongi out of his slightly dazed state.

“Went well.” He takes a big swish of his own water before screwing the cap back on. “We reviewed everything in three hours and the album looks better than I anticipated. There are a couple of promotional strategies that still need finalizing, but I’m pretty confident about it overall.”

“That’s great, man. __-nim’s been doing good work with TXT for the last few years, so she’s definitely suited for the job. I thought about requesting her help to promote Indigo but the timing of it all didn’t work.” Namjoon’s voice drops an octave at the last part, as if remorseful for more than a missed professional opportunity.

“Ah, maybe your next album hyung,” Jimin suddenly chimes in, slapping the taller man on the shoulder from the side. “I have a feeling you and __-nim would work well together. Think about it, you’re both natural born leaders and you’re smart too. I bet __ -nim has as high of an IQ as you.”

Namjoon’s cheeks flush with the faintest tint of rose as Jimin flashes a knowingly cheeky grin. Yoongi, of course, witnesses the entire exchange, the slightest part of him feeling uprooted by the thought of his band member and new marketing manager suddenly hitting it off. He decides not to comment on the matter, choosing to remain in ignorance instead. This is all speculation, right?

Now that they’re all on the subject of his album though, it gets him thinking that maybe he’s been too narrow viewed regarding the reason for your off putting behavior at lunch.

D-Day’s release has become a consuming priority lately, with everyone involved worked to the bone. Aside from himself, you’ve been bearing the brunt of it. He’s appreciative of course, considering the album holds a deep sense of meaning to him, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want it to be perfect. A little pushback during the first proposal is natural, yet he did get more resistant toward ideas during this morning’s meeting than anticipated. Perhaps some of his nitpicking was unnecessary, adding to your already heavy load.

Yoongi’s head feels worse the longer he entertains the possibility. He doesn’t want to make the first time working together a complete whirlwind, especially this early. A strong, healthy partnership starts with trust, safety, and mutual respect. The same philosophy can be applied to relationships of varying natures. That reminds him—since when did Taehyung and you become so close? He’s been ruminating over it all afternoon, like a jigsaw puzzle he can’t solve.

It’s odd how little he knows.

“I heard someone mention __-nim over here. I want in.” A small grumble leaves Yoongi’s lips as Jungkook pushes next to him, displeased by how tiny his space bubble has gotten due to the huddle his members have formed around him. Just why the hell is everyone so interested in his new marketing director? That's what he wants to know.

“Can you introduce me to her sometime hyung?" Jungkook pleads. "I’m thinking about releasing an album in the next year and it’d be great if you could hook us up…yknow?”

Oh, Yoongi knows. He knows exactly what this young buck is insinuating, but it isn’t mating season yet and even if it were he will do no such thing as to “hook them up”. Besides, his conscience tells him that you wouldn't be interested in the company of a younger man anyway—not that your dating life is any of his business or anything.

“Get in line Jungkookie, behind Namjoon. He needs her for his album first.” Jimin squeezes down on Namjoon’s muscular shoulders with both hands, shaking him just enough to hype him up. His hands are removed seconds later when he’s told to knock it off.

“That’s enough about this, okay? I’m pretty sure Yoongi-hyung is the only one who actually needs __-nim right now because, in case you dumbasses have forgotten, D-Day is set to release in April,” Namjoon scolds the two with a commanding tone. Jungkook, per usual, remains persistent in his original request and keeps his full attention on Yoongi.

“Anyway hyung, as I was saying, I know your album takes priority so I’m in no hurry to meet her. I can be pretty patient as you know-“

“Heh, that’s a lie.”

“Shove it Jimin, no one’s talking to you.” Jungkook’s eyebrows scrunch together as Jimin snorts helplessly next to Namjoon.

“You shove it Kook,” Jimin counters. “And stop trying to date __-nim! Find your own woman!”

“I’m not trying to date her! She's my noona for gods sake! Do you think I’m oblivious to how the public reacts to idols dating? Also, __-nim is a Hybe employee, not an idol. I can only imagine the type of scandal the media would spin it as.”

“Right, we all know you actually just want to take her to your bed instead,” Jimin interrupts for the umpteenth time. “Our handsome leader, on the other hand, is interested in her professional abilities. We can learn a lot from him.”

“Why are you always trying to start a fight with me Jimin? Is it because I can take you, now that I've been building up more muscle?” Jungkook’s accusations earn him nothing more than a sea of eye-rolls until Jimin lunges himself towards him, puffing out his chest the best he can to size him up.

Namjoon rubs his face with a hand, a clear visual display of his exhaustion. He’s been moderating these stupid squabbles for nine years now. “Alright very mature, biggest boy band in the world and this is what it’s come to? Amazing, congrats to everyone for winning the award for most-”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Seokjin interjects, effortlessly shouting over everyone while waving his hands. “My brothers…why are we fighting over here like a couple of peacocks? We are all beautiful in our own, individual ways. Mine, for example, is my handsome face.”

“For the love of god hyung, we’re trying to settle something. Go take your inspirational pep talk elsewhere!” Jungkook bends his knees, swooping down to throw Jimin over his shoulder but he misses when the man starts tickling him ruthlessly.

“St-ah-stop it Jimin!"

“You stop it, you frickin’ brat! Trying to take advantage of our hyungs for your own selfish gain.” Jimin then slaps Jungkook on the ass which does not go unappreciated as Hoseok cackles from the other side of the room. Up until this point, he’s been scrolling on his phone, completely unbothered by the chaos. As Hoseok nears the action, Jungkook delivers a swift kick to Jimin’s rear end.

“Ow, what the fuck Kook?!” Jimin tries soothing the sting by massaging it with his hands. “You little prick!”

“Oh come on, I barely hit you. Gaining sympathy points won’t help this time, plus I see you trying to hide a grin. You think this shit is funny. You’re sick you know that?”

Jimin makes a move to return the kick to his youngest member but ends up hitting a far taller, and leaner subject instead. Taehyung, who just returned from the bathroom, throws a hand over his abdomen and grunts from the sudden impact.

“What is—shit Jimin that really hurt!” Taehyung’s baritone voice echoes off the walls as he winces from the pain. He takes a few deep breaths, then viciously eyes the two brawlers followed by the rest of the room. “What the hell is going on? I heard you all talking about __-nim from the hallway. Yoongi-hyung here is trying to kick off his album and tour, which we are supposed to be celebrating over drinks this Friday, but here you are arguing with each other and who has the biggest dick. Well, you can all put it away because as __-nim’s best friend, and number one wingman, only I’m allowed to set her up with someone and it won’t be with any of you! Sorry hyung…” he looks at Namjoon who appears to have brushed the comment off.

As soon as Taehyung ceases his mini-speech, eery silence sets in. Hoseok is the first to dare say a word.

“Uh, so what’s this about being her best friend Tae?”

“Yeah, I had no idea either.” Jimin quirks his head to the side, awaiting the details.

“Same,” Namjoon adds in a short breath.

“What happened to us, man?” Jungkook pouts at Taehyung, a total 180 from moments ago when he was in an unsolicited sparring match with Jimin. “You used to share everything with me. Now you’re holding out on me. Since when did you and __-nim start hanging out?”

Yoongi’s ears perk up for the first time since all the commotion began, curious to hear Taehyung’s response. He only recently discovered the blossoming friendship hours ago and even then, it was a brief inside look.

“I didn’t think to mention it but yeah, we started talking since her first day at Hybe. I bumped into her on the way into work, early morning for both of us. I expected her to be a bit on the reserved side, considering she was a new hire, but she was quite friendly. The more we talked, the more I felt like I knew her as if a childhood best friend I’d reconnected with.” Pausing, he wets his lips before continuing. “We share a lot of our meals together now, like our lunches during the weekday. Her food tastes amazing by the way. I think she missed her calling as a chef but it’s more than food— it’s a love language, a labor of love.”

“Wow, you two sure are connected,” Hoseok speaks first again, seeing the rest of his members working to process the new bit of info.

“Platonically, yes.”

“This’ll be good for Yoongi-hyung and his album then! No bad blood exists here!” Hoseok shifts his gaze between Taehyung and Yoongi, pleased with the outcome. The older of the two remains speechless, yet it’s far from a dazed expression. Yoongi is instead deep in thought, the wheels turning in his head.

So maybe it’s true that birds of a feather flock together, he hums to himself. The two of you seem to be social butterflies with a vase full of commonalities. He, on the other hand, prefers his solitude. That’s not to say he’s a hermit or anything though. Hybe hosts a company-wide New Year’s Eve party every single year and he’s made his best effort to attend them all. He mainly mingles with his members, but he still makes sure to small talk with other coworkers. Come to think of it, did he even see you at last year’s New Year’s Eve party?

He can’t remember much from the night except Seokjin scolding him for not wishing him a happy birthday the minute the clock struck midnight. He was a bit tipsy at that point. Taehyung disappeared soon after to make his usual rounds, stopping to chat with everyone in his path. Maybe he took off to talk to you during that time.

Okay, he really needs to stop thinking about you.

"Just to confirm, is everyone still on for Friday night to celebrate D-Day?" Jimin pipes. "I booked us a good place to have some food and drinks.

Taehyung nods, "I am, as long as it's not the same place we saw our CFO and his much younger date feeding each other. I couldn't eat for the rest of that night."

Jungkook fakes a gag before replying. "I'm sorry but does anyone know how is he still working here? Guy creeps me out."

"I swear, I couldn't agree more. Just yesterday he made an egregiously body-shaming comment toward __-nim to someone else on the board. She kept a brave front when she told me, but I'm damn tempted to get him removed from his position myself!" Taehyung's nostrils flare as he shares his frustration, fingers digging into his hips.

Yoongi takes a final chug of his water before abruptly tossing the bottle on the floor. A sharp crack resounds through the space, instantly commanding the authority of the room. “Fifteen minutes is over,” he gruffs. “It might be twenty minutes with all the bickering earlier. We don't have time to be talking about this anymore.”

“Come on now," Hoseok says. "Didn't you hear what Taehyung said? Our CFO really is a class-A jerk. I feel so bad that __-nim has to put up with his bullshit, she doesn't deserve it." His eyes frantically search the room, hoping to rally support.

"Don't worry about that asshole," Yoongi assures, "I'll handle it." He strides over to his choreographed position on the dance floor as if a leader in his own right, the rest of the members following in his steps.

"Just don't kill him, hyung," Namjoon says, resting a hand on the older's shoulder from behind. Yoongi merely snorts lightly in reply.

Yoongi is dead tired, his feet feeling heavier the minute he stands from his studio chair. He could have left hours ago, but here it is nearly 9:30 at night, and he's only just leaving the office.

As he shuffles down the hallway towards the elevator, he notices the eerie silence. It's thick, almost palpable. There's not a soul left in the building this late at night. When the elevator doors open, he leans casually against the metal rail, closes his eyes, and mentally retraces his day.

Overall, it was a decent day, he thinks, productive at best. Skipping dinner to work on his album tracks was an easy decision, but he might be paying for it now given the intense growling of his stomach. Despite his songs being considered perfect by his members, he can't help but tweak each one a final time. It's as if his gut tells him there's still a piece missing from the whole.

All at once, the elevator comes to a sudden stop. Yoongi's eyes shoot open, anticipation flooding his senses. Is someone still here? He listens intently, straining to hear any sound over the faint hum of the elevator. After a few moments that feel like an eternity, the elevator doors slide open to reveal an empty, dimly lit hallway. It's the 16th floor. He hesitates for a second, peering into the shadows, but there’s no sign of anyone. Strange.

Just as the elevator doors begin to close, Yoongi hears a distant, unmistakable voice. "Please hold the door!" you plead, your voice strained with urgency. He responds immediately, stretching out an arm to block the door. "Thank you so much," you say, slipping in beside him, your bag thrown over your shoulder.

Yoongi watches as you enter, curiosity in his eyes. It seems you were of like mind tonight, working late and likely burdened by the extra work he caused for you. The feeling of tension is as clear as it was yesterday, lingering as a reminder of the unspoken discomfort between you both.

But then again, there's that issue Taehyung mentioned, looming in his thoughts. He hadn't realized you overheard the horrendous comment his CFO made about you. No wonder you hurried away from him like a bat out of hell yesterday; you knew he knew. He wouldn't dare shine a light on the situation and risk embarrassing you further; no one needs to relive such a belittling experience. Yet, he's wrestling with the right words to say.

"Heading home, Min PD-nim?" You surprise him by speaking first, voice firm with a touch of gentleness.

Yoongi allows a faint smile to tug at the corners of his lips, hoping it'll relieve some tension. "I am, it's been quite a day. What about you?"

You nod, shifting the bag on your shoulder. "Same here. Just had to wrap up a few things before heading out."

He hesitates for a moment, noting how you speak as if it were only a few minutes past five or six in the evening. "I understand. I was working in my studio up until now. I should be back up there tomorrow too," he says, then chuckles lightly, "Sometimes I feel like I should just live up there."

You return the subtle laugh and smile softly at him, your light brown eyes catching his dark ones. It feels like the same prolonged gaze you shared upon first meeting, yet now, it's somehow become easier; perhaps a hint of familiarity.

"By the way," he continues, seizing the opportunity, "feel free to call me Yoongi-ssi. I'm not that formal in case you didn't know." He playfully gestures to his casual attire; tan cargo pants, grey plaid button-down, and sneakers.

You seem hesitant towards the request at first, evident from your delayed response. "Are you sure?" you choke. "I don't want to over step my boundaries."

"There's no need to worry about that," he assures. "We're on equal level aren't we? If we're going to be working side by side for the next eight months give or take, I want us to feel comfortable with each other. Please, call me Yoongi-ssi."

"Okay, I might need some time to get used to that," you say, head nodding, "I'll try calling you Yoongi-ssi from now on."

"There's one other thing too," he pauses, "since we'll be working on D-Day's promotion from start to finish, I'll have many of my own opinions. It's a natural instinct for me, but I don't want to be a hinderance. I don't want anyone else giving you issues either, so I'd like to hear your full thoughts on matters, especially when it comes to important decisions."

"That means a lot Yoongi-ssi, thank you. I'm very grateful that you'd allow me to be a part of this and I'd very much like us to have an equal partnership. This is your album though, so I want to make sure it gets the recognition it deserves in the way you'd prefer."

Yoongi glances at the floor numbers displayed to the right of the elevator doors. Any second now and you'll reach the lobby. He wouldn't mind talking longer, but letting you both get a decent night's sleep is the far better idea at this point.

"I trust that D-Day is in the right hands with you, __ssi," he replies. "It's why I recommended that we work together to promote it in the first place. Bang PD was also confident in the idea. We don't doubt your expertise for a second." He pauses when the elevator doors slide open and allows you to be the first to exit. "Have a good night, okay?"

For the first time, you reciprocate the wish with a full, illuminating smile. It's not a professional one, Yoongi notes, its a real one—as genuine and sincere as his words. He takes it as a sign that the tides may finally be turning for the better. "You too," he hears you say before you push through the large revolving doors and step into the cool night air.

In the evenings that follow, Yoongi finds himself back in his studio as promised, a glass of whiskey in hand. He ultimately decided that if he was going to be here until all hours of the night, he might as well have a cold beverage to keep him company.

As he leans back in his chair, swirling the dark amber liquor in his glass, his mind inadvertently wanders to you. Were you downstairs again? Were you here with him? It would seem that given your unexpected late-night encounter in the elevator, the validity of the idea wouldn't be all that wild or far-fetched.

With each passing minute, as the clock inches closer to the late hours, he finds himself circling back to the same thought. It's as if the possibility of running into you has become a highlight of his night.

Just then, a deep and familiar voice interrupts. "Burning the midnight oil again, hyung?"

Startled, Yoongi looks up to see Taehyung standing in the doorway, a sympathetic smile on his face. Despite it being almost 9 at night, his younger member is nothing short of flawless in appearance.

"Yeah, working on my tracks," Yoongi replies, offering a small smile in return. "What are you doing here?"

Taehyung steps further into the room, hand tucked in his pocket. "I wanted to stay late to keep __-nim company, but I'm not sure how much longer she plans on staying tonight. I was on my way out when I figured I'd stop by to see you too."

"Well, thanks for thinking of me. Want a drink?" He offers, nodding towards the nearby whiskey bottle.

"No, thanks," Taehyung declines politely, shaking his head. "I'll let you enjoy your whiskey in peace. Although, __-nim might take you up on that same offer one of these days. She has a strong taste for it, as you do. Anyway, I'm heading out. Don't overdo it with your music, hyung, they're already perfect."

Once Taehyung leaves the studio, Yoongi's previous string of thoughts return to him tenfold.

So you really are here, he muses, and you happen to like the same throat-burning alcohol. Should he venture downstairs and offer a drink? No, that would probably be too much, and he wouldn't want to interrupt you. Maybe if Taehyung were accompanying him, but not alone; he doesn't share enough rapport with you to merit such a spontaneous drop-in yet.

No, he takes another sip of his whiskey, he'll see you tomorrow morning instead; during your morning meeting. But that gets him thinking—he's still yet to decide on whether or not he'll make an appearance on Fallon's show. He’d done it with his members numerous times, but this would be the first time doing it alone. His album would indeed benefit from the exposure, though.

"Damn it," he curses, raising from his seat. "I work my ass off. I work my ass off for it all!" He then sits back down, finishing off the rest of his whiskey in one gulp, the burn soothing his frustration momentarily. With a resigned sigh, he turns his attention back to his music. "Damn it, I guess I'll do it."

If it weren't for his phone notification reminding him of his 10 am meeting on Friday, Yoongi would have missed it entirely. Normally, he never forgets important events, but several late nights in the studio had predictably caught up with him. He feels extremely sleep-deprived today, his memory more prone to blanking than usual. Waking up with a throbbing headache at 5 am, which hasn't dimmed in the slightest, doesn’t help either. Nonetheless, with only ten minutes to spare, Yoongi has no choice but to pull himself together and head downstairs to the conference room.

"Good morning, Min PD-nim," you greet him as he walks through the door. "We're about to start."

Yoongi drags out a chair and takes a seat. You look nice today, he notes quietly to himself. He makes sure to send a small smile your way before returning the warm greeting. "Good morning __-ssi," he says. "I told you we can speak informally didn't I?"

He waits for your response, easily tuning out the startled reactions from the rest of the team. Most high-ranking officials in the organization expected to be addressed formally by those in lower positions, but here he was, openly requesting you to speak as equals. It was almost unheard of during work hours. He was Min Yoongi, after all.

"Right, of course," you reply, "You'll have to excuse me, Yoongi-ssi. It slipped my mind for a moment."

Yoongi watches as you shuffle a few papers in your hand before continuing. "To get us started, I thought we'd discuss the decision to schedule a spot on The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon. Will we be proceeding with this?"

"After mauling it over I think it's a good idea for the album. Do we have an idea of when this would happen?"

"Ideally after the album releases and around the time the U.S. tour begins April 26th. I say we aim for early May. Given Fallon's show's high demand, we'll need to get a jump on this as soon as we can." You shift your attention to your digital marketing and promotions team. "So-hyun, can you reach out to the producers and see what strings we can pull?"

She nods, scribbling a quick note on her writing pad. "We'll reach out today. I'll let you know as soon as we get a response."

"Excellent, thank you. I'm glad to hear you're on board with this Yoongi-ssi. It'll be a great way to promote D-Day and attract a global audience. The more smartly we utilize our resources, the better your album will be positioned in the current market." You take a brief pause to flip through your notes again. "Speaking of resources, we'll need to start booking magazine shoots and interviews. I'm proposing we run cover pages with Marie Claire Korea and Vogue Japan."

Yoongi would be taken aback by the flood of ideas and schedules you're firing at him, all within the first fifteen minutes, if he weren't already aware of your level of competency. This is exactly why he chose you, he hums to himself, your preparedness is impressive, but not surprising.

"I presume this will take place next year?" he asks. "During their spring issues?"

"Absolutely. We'll submit inquiries soon to get the ball rolling, but having the shoots completed now would be premature. Plus, it'll take some time before there are any openings with the companies. I think we should be consistent with tour dates and have Marie Claire go out in May and Vogue ready in August of next year."

"Okay, I'm fine with all that but we'll need to have something exciting released now, don't we? I know I start my weekly lives tonight, but shouldn't there be something more we can do?"

"I agree," you reply. "That's why I wanted to propose a brand new idea that came to me a couple of nights ago while I was drafting promotional content. Anytime idols release a new album or music, it gets published on YouTube, right?"

He nods, curious on where you're heading. "Right."

"Why don't we start a talk show with you as the host Yoongi-ssi? It can allow your fans to see another side of you, as well as the general public. We can invite your BTS members as guests where you can discuss music or past challenges that you've had to overcome—the choice is yours. To make it more interesting for viewers, you can have these frank conversations over a glass of whiskey or soju."

"I like the idea," he says, weighing it in his mind. "What would the timeline look like for this?"

"If we move forward with the idea, I suggest December 5th and we continue it for a max of two months. I know that only leaves us with just under two weeks to get started, but creating the set shouldn't take more an a day or a day and a half. We can also easily shoot a 30 to 60-minute video in an afternoon and publish it on YouTube the following week. Of course, a preview of the show will need to go out beforehand."

"Would we be able to invite other guests to the show? Outside of my members, I mean."

"Yes, feel free to invite whoever you'd like. We can start with the member for the first several episodes but ultimately, welcoming a variety of guests from the same or differing industries would be the goal."

"If I may." A member of the social media team suddenly joins the discussion, "I think Kim Namjoon-nim might be a good person to feature first since Indigo releases December 2nd."

Yoongi nods in agreement. "I can ask him."

"That would be fantastic, actually. If his availability is limited, we could have him guest star for the second or third episode instead," you add. "Hoseok released Jack in the Box this summer so we could have him be the first guest as well."

"Do we have a name yet?"

"Suchwita," you answer without hesitation. "It's a play on words with Daechwita."

"Suchwita..." Yoongi repeats, "Time to get drunk." He chuckles at the last few words, amusing the room, but you remain contemplative.

"How about Suchwita...time to drink with Suga, instead? It's simple and has a slight whimsical nature."

"Sure, let's use that," he answers, noticing that you've already begun jotting down the idea. "Yours is better."

Despite the adrenaline from the productive meeting with you and your team, Yoongi still feels the weight of his sleepless nights bearing down on him. His headache remains relentless and he is in dire need of a moment to himself. Once the team disperses, he slips his phone into his pocket and makes his way outside. The crisp, early morning air should offer him some relief, along with the pack of cigarettes tucked in his pocket.

When he reaches the building's designated smoking area, Yoongi takes out a cigarette and lights it, taking a deep drag as he leans against the cool brick wall. As he exhales, watching the smoke dissipate into the clear sky, his thoughts drift back to the meeting. The idea of hosting a talk show, "Suchwita...time to drink with Suga," still lingers in his mind. It’s an intriguing concept, and he can already envision the relaxed, candid conversations that could come from it.

His thoughts are suddenly interrupted by the sound of footsteps crunching on the ground nearby.

"Oh, Yoongi-ssi," you say with alarm, obviously startled by his presence. "I didn't mean to interrupt you. I'll come back lat-"

"There's no need for that. Join me if you'd like." Yoongi watches as you hesitate to accept his offer, your feet already positioned to head back inside the building. "Seriously, there's plenty of room, and no matter what they'll tell you, I don't bite."

He allows himself to smirk as you carefully move beside him, only stopping when there is at least two feet of space between you both.

"Thanks," you say, pulling out your own pack of cigarettes and lighting one. "I needed a break too."

"Rough morning?"

"Just busy," you reply, leaning against the wall next to him. "But the meeting went well. We should be able to get the ball rolling now that we have a more finalized plan. I'm glad you liked the idea of starting Suchwita, by the way."

"I do," Yoongi says, nodding. "It has a lot of potential and I'm sure Namjoon will be more than happy to help us out. He's a natural at this kind of stuff. I guess it's why he's our band leader."

"You know you're good at all of this too, don't you, Yoongi-ssi?" You pause, taking a puff of your cigarette. "Even when you have a lot on your mind and a packed schedule, you have a knack for making people feel at ease. It's why I think producing Suchwita will be such a great way to connect with fans and other artists—you'll be the host."

He chuckles, appreciative of the remark. "You really think that? That I make people feel at ease? It's not what a lot of people assume."

"Nah," you reply, tilting your head up toward the clouds. "They're just on the outside looking in. Those who know you, who are around you and talk to you, will agree that you're a pretty calming presence."

"Well, I think we're not so different then." Yoongi shifts his eyes to your face, still looking up at the sky, and smiles softly. "So, what made you come to BigHit? Didn't you say you worked for Atlantic Records? That's a pretty good gig."

"Yeah, it was. I learned a lot there, and man, I was thrilled when I got offered the job as a brand manager. I've always loved music, ever since I was a kid. I could connect so intimately with the lyrics. Music is one of the few things that could soothe me during rough times, and it still does today. I'm sure you can understand."

Yoongi nods, intent on listening to your every word, intrigued by your story.

"Anyway, sorry about getting long-winded here" you chuckle. "I ultimately decided to move on when Bang PD reached out and offered me the marketing manager position for TXT. It gave me the chance to be a more integral part of bringing music to individuals who need it most. It's like we say, 'music for art and healing.' I'd never had the opportunity to manage a completely new set of musicians before either, let alone a group. Plus, being on the global marketing team? I couldn't turn it down."

"It makes sense why you joined us then, and I have to say, it's a blessing you did too. Music is a way of communication for me, a way I can best express my story. That includes my past, present, and hopefully future. After hearing all you shared, I don't think there's anyone else I'd trust with handling my album promos." Yoongi pauses a moment, unsure if he should ask the next thing on his mind. "How come we never met before? I mean really meet and talk?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure myself. But things have a way of falling into place when the time is right, I suppose." You're now looking at him, the intensity of your gaze mirrors his own. A gentle breeze tousles a few strands of your hair and for a split moment, Yoongi begins to understand what Taehyung meant earlier when he said it feels like he's known you his whole life, like a childhood friend he'd reconnected with. While it may not be to that extent for himself, there's a comforting warmth emanating from you that leaves him feeling strangely tranquil.

"Given the circumstances, I feel like we should have at least met through Taehyung by now," he slips out. "Or even at a company-sponsored event."

"Why, do you like me that much, Yoongi-ssi? After five days of working together?" Your playful tease catches him off guard, revealing a side of you he hadn't seen before. It's kind of cute-wait, what?

"I-"

"Sorry," you quickly interject, feeling the need to backtrack. "I shouldn't have said it like that."

"Don't worry, there's no need for apologies. And to answer your question, I like you enough." He hopes you can hear the tease in his own tone as he responds.

You both lapse into a comfortable silence for the next few minutes, the only sounds being the distant hum of traffic and the occasional chirp of a bird. He finds all of it soothing in a way he can't quite explain.

After a few minutes, you turn to him, your expression thoughtful. "You know, if you ever need to talk or just need a break, I'm here. We're teammates now."

Yoongi looks at you, his tired eyes softening with gratitude. "Thanks, __-ssi."

You give him a reassuring smile before pushing off the wall. "I'll let you finish your cigarette. See you later? And by later, I likely mean at 9 or 10 pm in our company elevator."

"Yeah, see you later," he laughs, watching as you walk back toward the building. He takes one last inhale, extinguishing the cigarette and letting the remaining smoke escape his lips slowly.

Yeah, he likes you just enough.

a/n: Hope you enjoyed it! Lmk what you think 🥰

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genderkoolaid · 7 months

Note

Examples of transandrophobia: i've seen sections of Leslie Feinberg's piece "Sisterhood: Make it Real" passed around this site for literally years, and TODAY was the first time that I saw the whole thing and learned that ze called out cisfeminists in it for getting rid of trans men the second they started transitioning. Like I always thought it was a good piece but I had literally NO IDEA that it talked about trans men because that part was never included in posts about it, even when those posts were calling out cisfeminism for being transphobic. I'm just gobsmacked tbh

This is a great point!

Honestly more people need to read that full chapter. There's a lot of really good points.

Amongst other things, Leslie talks about how "women good men bad" is poor feminism:

Of course, as a result of the oppression women face growing up in such a violently anti-woman environment, some women draw a line between women as allies and men as enemies. While it’s understandable that an individual might do so out of fear, this approach fails as theory. It lumps John Brown and John D. Rockefeller together as enemies and Sojourner Truth and Margaret Thatcher together as allies. This view of who to trust and who to dread will not keep women safe or keep the movement on course.

How feminine men are victims of gender oppression:

The oppression of feminine men is an important one to me, since I consider drag queens to be my sisters. I’ve heard women criticize drag queens for “mocking women’s oppression” by imitating femininity to an extreme, just as I’ve been told that I am imitating men. Feminists are justifiably angry at women’s oppression - so am I! I believe, however, that those who denounce drag queens aim their criticism at the wrong people. This misunderstanding doesn’t take gender oppression into account. For instance, to criticize male-to-female drag performers, but leave out a discussion of gender oppression, lumps drag queen RuPaul together with men like actor John Wayne! RuPaul is a victim of gender oppression, as well as of racism.

How masculine women are assumed to know less about gender oppression:

But I grew up very masculine, so the complex and powerful set of skills that feminine girls developed to walk safely through the world were useless to me. I had to learn a very different set of skills, many of them martial. While we both grew up as girls, our experiences were dissimilar because our gender expressions were very different. Masculine girls and women face terrible condemnation and brutality including sexual violence - for crossing the boundary of what is “acceptable” female expression. But masculine women are not assumed to have a very high consciousness about fighting women’s oppression, since we are thought to be imitating men.

And as you said, how trans men deserve access to women's and lesbian's spaces without having their transmasculinity ignored or seen as being butch-in-denial:

And our female-to-male transsexual brothers have a right to feel welcome at women’s movement events or lesbian bars. However, that shouldn’t feed into to misconception that all female-to-male transsexuals were butches who just couldn’t deal with their oppression as lesbians. If that were true, then why does a large percentage of post-transition transsexual men identify as gay and bisexual, which may have placed them in a heterosexual or bisexual status before their transition? There are transsexual men who did help build the women’s and lesbian communities, and still have a large base of friends there. They should enjoy the support of women on their journey. Doesn’t everyone want their friends around them at a time of great change? And women could learn a great deal about what it means to be a man or a woman from sharing the lessons of transition.

Not that "trans women belong in feminism" wouldn't be a good point on its own, but people's selectivity with which parts of that chapter they share definitely warrant scrutiny.

#m.#ask box

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nanawritesit · 9 months

Text

Being EXO’s fem!idol crush who gets shipped with them - Maknae Line Ver.

Hyung Line Ver.

a/n: this is based on the SM girl group idol au that i wrote a while back, please read that first so that the writing will make sense :) AND these scenarios are LONG (esp. Chanyeol’s omg it took FOREVER) so i’m splitting this into two parts! enjoy :)

TW: kissing, sleeping in the same bed, mentions of food, slightly suggestive remarks, mentions of bullying, being held, sitting on his lap, mild cursing

Chanyeol:

You were both sent by the company to be on a new variety show called “Idol Roommates,” where a bunch of idols would be living together in the same house for a month. SM had sent you, Chanyeol, Yeri, and Ten, Hybe had sent Beomgyu, Jake, Sakura, and Minji, and JYP had sent Bangchan, Yuna, Lily, and and Gunil. The fans were super excited to see all of their favorite idols be roommates, and you had to admit, you were a little too excited to be living in such close proximity with Chanyeol.

The first episode began with you all arriving to the house with your label mates, and greeting all the other idols in the kitchen. There were cameras hidden all around the house, except for in the bathrooms, so you never really could tell what was being broadcasted and what wasn’t.

“So, what do we do first?” Sakura asked once everyone had arrived.

“Oh, there’s a note here on the table…” Bangchan said as he reached for it. “‘Welcome to your new home for the next month! In this bowl are all of your names. Please draw for your roommate and choose your rooms in order of your ages.’” he read aloud.

“Well, Chanyeol hyung is the oldest, so he goes first.” Ten explained, patting Chanyeol’s shoulder.

“Wow, you don’t have to rub it in.” Chanyeol joked, a playful smile on his face. Everyone laughed along with him, quieting down when he reached into the bowl to draw a name.

“Y/N.” he announced. Everyone turned to you expectantly. Yeri and Ten shot you mischievous grins, to which you blushed and looked away. They knew about your enormous crush on Chanyeol, how he had been your bias since high school, and how you used to have posters of him all over your wall. You shot them a dangerous glare before turning to Chanyeol.

“Alright, shall we go pick our room?” you proposed, desperate to get the attention off yourself.

“Yeah, let’s go!” he agreed, leading you up the stairs.

“This one looks the biggest.” you suggested after you had surveyed all the rooms.

He walked over from the other end of the hall and glanced inside the room you were talking about. “Alright, works for me!”

You had separate beds on opposite sides of the room, but it was still a little awkward. The two of you had several interactions in the past, and they were all pleasant, but mostly formal. You began unpacking your suitcases and shuffling around the room to get settled in silence.

As you did so, you could hear the other groupings running excitedly up the stairs to claim their rooms. Ten and Sakura were first, then Bangchan and Yeri. Gunil had picked Jake, then Beomgyu picked Lily, and that left Yuna and Minji together. Hearing the chatter of your colleagues in the background helped ease the tension a bit.

“Do you sleep with a light on?” Chanyeol asked suddenly, making you jump a bit.

You nodded sheepishly. “I’m a bit scared of the dark to be honest.”

“Ah, you’ll have to remind me. I don’t sleep with a light. Are you okay with having a fan on?”

“Yeah, I don’t mind that!” you told him, shuffling awkwardly. “I’m sorry you got stuck rooming with me. I know I’m not the most fun person in the world.”

“No, don’t be sorry… I’m actually relieved that I drew your name.” he told you reassuringly.

“Really?” you asked, cocking your head to the side in curiosity. “Why’s that?”

“Because you’re one of the few people I feel comfortable around in the idol world.” he answered, a tiny, bashful grin on his face.

You tried to ignore the flush creeping up your cheeks. “I feel the same way about you.”

Suddenly, Bangchan and Yeri appeared at your door. “Hey, are you guys ready for the debrief? We’re all heading downstairs now.” Chan asked.

“Yeah, let’s go.” Chanyeol replied, leading you out of the room. He followed Bangchan down the stairs, and with their backs to you, Yeri turned around and wiggled her brows at you. You pushed her forward a bit out of annoyance, causing her to tumble down the stairs by a few steps. You instinctively reached out for her, then looked at her, concerned. You both broke out into laughter, her gripping onto the railing and you holding onto her.

“That would’ve sucked.” Yeri chuckled, holding onto her stomach from laughing so hard.

—————

“Okay, so all the housework has been assigned.” Sakura declared, setting down her slice of pizza. “We’ll do meals in order of oldest to youngest, and chores in order of youngest to oldest.”

The production company had sent you all pizza for your first dinner, but you were instructed to prepare meals for the house for the rest of the time you would be there. That meant that you and Chanyeol would be preparing breakfast tomorrow.

For the remainder of the night, you all just chilled in the enormous living room and talked about all of your careers while a movie played on the TV. Conversation was flowing so smoothly that time just seemed to fly by, and before you knew it, everyone was getting up to get ready for bed, including you and Chanyeol.

“You can take a shower first.” he told you, sitting down at his bed to check his phone.

“Okay, thanks!” you chirped, making your way over to the bathroom.

Once you were done and in your pajamas, which embarrassingly enough had little kittens all over them, you padded your way back over to your own bed. “It’s all yours.” you told him.

“Awesome, be right back.” he responded, getting up from his bed. He did a double take as he looked at you. “Nice pajamas. They’re cute.”

You blushed, trying to focus on drying your hair. “Thank you. Kaori got them for me and I just can’t resist wearing them, even if they are kind of silly.”

“They’re perfect.” he smiled as he walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind him.

You sighed, placing your hands on your cheeks to cool them off. Get it together Y/N. You’re on TV.

You went about the rest of your nightly routine, then curled up in bed to scroll on your phone for a bit. After a while, you heard the water shut off, meaning that Chanyeol was done with his shower. And then it happened. Everything went to black.

You yelped a bit at the sudden darkness, gripping onto your blankets.

“Guys?” you heard Gunil shout from down the hallway.

Everyone started emerging into the hallway with their phone flashlights on. “Is everyone okay?” you heard Lily ask.

“Everyone’s here except for Chanyeol and Y/N.” Jake stated. You heard shuffling down the hallway coming towards your room, which only made your anxiety worsen. You didn’t want any of your adult colleagues to see you scared out of your mind just because the electricity went out.

Just as you were preparing to face your housemates, Chanyeol emerged from the bathroom and practically sprinted over to the door with his own phone’s flashlight.

“Yeah, we’re both good in here.” he told your housemates from the doorway, shielding you from the view. “Since it’s the middle of the night anyway, I say we just all go to sleep. The production company’s cameras will have suddenly shut off, so I’m sure they’ll fix it by morning.”

“Yeah, that’s a good point.” Chan agreed. “Well, since everyone’s okay, let’s just go back to our rooms.”

Once everyone was back in their rooms, Chanyeol rushed over to you, sitting down on your bed. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice dripping with concern. You had never seen him so serious before.

“Yeah… just scared…” you shuddered, gripping onto your blankets.

“It’s okay, nothing is gonna happen to you. I promise.” he comforted you, patting your shoulder. “Do you think you can try to go to sleep?”

You thought for a moment, then shook your head. “I’d be too anxious. I know that nothing is going to happen to me, but it’s just a fear I’ve never been able to shake.”

He looked as if he was tossing an idea around in his head. Hesitantly, he looked back up at you. “Would you be able to sleep if we shared a bed?”

Your eyes went wide. Was Park Chanyeol actually offering to sleep in the same bed as you just so you would feel safe? It was as if all of your dreams were coming true in this moment.

You coughed awkwardly. “Well um… you don’t have to if it makes you uncomfortable, but… it would definitely help.” you stuttered out.

“I don’t mind at all.” he told you, a comforting smile on his features. “I just want you to feel better.”

You grinned, feeling your heart swell with emotions, then scooched over to make room for him.

It was obviously a little bit awkward at first. You both faced away from each other, a good three inches of space between the two of you. You thought that was going to be how the rest of the night went, until you started shaking.

“Y/N, are you trembling?” Chanyeol asked, turning towards you.

You froze. “Um… yeah. I’m sorry. I’m just scared.” you sighed in humiliation.

“It’s alright… do you want me to hold you?” he offered, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“I… I don’t want you to feel like you have to…” you spat out reluctantly, even though your heart was screaming at you to say yes immediately.

“I want to, Y/N.” he told you, a slight chuckle slipping out as he did so. “I mean, who doesn’t want to hold the person they like as they fall asleep?”

Your heart stopped. More than anything, you said in your head.

Your mouth fell open in shock, and you frantically flopped over to face him completely. “You like me?”

He nodded, a small smirk on his face. “I thought it was obvious.”

Your face broke out into a huge, toothy grin, and you lunged forward to hide your blushing face in his chest. He chuckled at your bashfulness, closing his arms around you in a tight embrace.

“Shall we get some sleep?” he asked.

You happily nodded in his hold. “I think I can manage now that I’ll have something to dream about.”

“Goodnight Y/N.” he whispered, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead before curling up around you.

“Goodnight Chanyeol.”

—————

In the morning, you tumbled awake to see him sitting up against the headboard scrolling on his phone. “I was just about to wake you up.” he chuckled, ruffling your hair. “Did you sleep well?”

You nodded groggily, smiling through squinted eyes. “All thanks to you.” you curled into his side.

“Although you look super adorable right now, we really should get started on breakfast.” he suggested. “We don’t want everyone going hungry.”

“I suppose so…” you sighed, getting out of bed. You both threw on your robes and slippers and made your way downstairs to the kitchen.

“Alright, what are we working with?” Chanyeol inquired as he opened the fridge, inspecting its contents.

“Well first of all, we’re going to need lots of coffee.” you giggled, busying yourself with the coffee pot.

“Very true. I can get started on some eggs and bacon while you do that.” he decided, swiping the ingredients out of the fridge and moving over to the stove. You prepared breakfast in a comfortable silence, that was, until the front door swung open, and three suited men strode in. You recognized one as your manager, but had no idea who the other two were.

“Hyung? What’s going on?” Chanyeol asked one of the men you didn’t know. You now assumed it was his manager.

“Don’t worry, we shut the cameras off this morning.” the man responded to him. “However, the production manager would like to tell you something.” He turned to the last remaining unidentified man and looked at him begrudgingly. Your own manager looked equally as annoyed with the supposed production manager, tapping his foot impatiently.

The man sighed. “The electrical outage was staged last night. Cameras were rolling throughout the entire night, and everything that went on was broadcasted.”

“You mean… the fans saw…?” you asked meekly, feeling your heart drop into your stomach.

“Yes, they saw you and Chanyeol sleeping in the same bed and confessing to one another.” your manager told you, a sympathetic look in his eyes. “I’m sorry kid. They didn’t tell us about this, or else we would’ve told you not to act as if you were in private.”

“There is, however, a bit of good news that goes along with this.” Chanyeol’s manager interjected. “The fans are really happy about it.”

You both snapped your heads up in shock. “Really?”

“Our ratings went through the roof.” the production manager explained. “Just in the past eight hours, we’ve received more viewers than any of our previous pilot episodes combined.”

“What are they saying?” you inquired, still incredibly surprised that the response was positive. Fans were not usually supportive of idol romance, wanting to maintain their own personal fantasies about their idols being available. In fact, “Idol Roomates” was kind of a controversial show because it allowed male and female idols to live together as if they were couples.

“See for yourself.” your manager instructed, holding his phone out to you. You began scrolling through some recent tweets he had pulled up on his phone, Chanyeol looking over your shoulder to read them with you.

I TOLD YOU GUYS IDOL ROOMMATES WAS FIRE, NOW WE GET Y/N AND CHANYEOL CONTENT 🔥

channie was soooo sweet to comfort y/n while she was afraid of the dark 🥺 i love seeing him be so soft to her ❤️

that innocent forehead kiss!!! i love them so much!!! <3

“Wow… that’s amazing.” Chanyeol marveled, running a hand through his hair. “So… what now?”

“Well, that’s up to you guys.” his manager replied. “The company has given us the okay to either confirm or deny the relationship based on your wishes.”

You both glanced at the floor, thinking to yourselves for a moment. Suddenly, you looked up and realized that you didn’t owe anyone an explanation.

“Let’s not say anything.” you suggested. Everyone looked over to you with a slightly shocked expression.

“Nothing?” your manager asked. “You mean, just let them wonder?”

“Actually, that’s not a bad idea…” the production manager agreed, tapping his chin in thought. “They are the most popular couple on the show, and no matter what, there are going to be skeptics on whether or not it was staged. Why don’t we just let the show be an experiment?”

“And if we ever do develop a relationship, this can be looked back on as where it developed.” Chanyeol grinned, taking your hand in his.

You grinned at him appreciatively, then turned back to your manager. “Is that okay?”

He shrugged, an amused smile on his face. “It’s your call, kid.”

You looked back over at Chanyeol, who gave you a determined nod.

“Let’s do it.” you decided.

“Alright, case closed.” Chanyeol’s manager stated, clapping his hands together. “We’re going to see that you guys have a few minutes to speak with each other alone before they turn the cameras back on...” He shot a dirty look to the production manager before continuing. “… but other than that, we hope you have fun on the show. And please, don’t take it too far. Fans can be quite temperamental.”

As soon as the three men left the room, you turnt to Chanyeol. “Did you really mean that?”

“What? That I see us developing a relationship?” he asked, scratching his head with a cute smile. “I thought that much was obvious.”

You giggled, shaking your head at yourself. “This is the second time I’ve been completely oblivious. I feel like such a fool.”

“You’re not a fool.” he reassured you, pulling you into his arms for a tight hug. His height always allowed him to give the best hugs. He made you feel so safe and cared for. “You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Thank you…” you whimpered into his chest. “I really do want to make this work.”

“And it will.” he grinned, rocking you slightly. “I promise.”

You looked up, resting your chin on his chest. “I believe you. You promised nothing would happen to me last night, and you were right.”

He smiled down at you affectionately. “There’s one more thing I want to do with these last few minutes we’ll get alone.”

“Hm?” you asked, once again oblivious to his insinuation.

Before you even had time to register what was happening, his lips were on yours. His hands came up to hold onto your face and press himself further up against you. You held your breath, then relaxed into his arms, hands linking together behind his neck. He began to deepen the kiss, puckering his lips against yours repeatedly and darting his tongue between them periodically. When you were completely out of air, you pulled back, both of your chests heaving against one another.

“I can’t wait until this show is over and we can have some real privacy.” you grinned suggestively. “Now, shall we finish breakfast?”

D.O:

You rubbed your sweaty palms against the rough material of your jeans, taking a deep shaky breath as you waited in the recording studio. Usually when you were nervous in a place like this, it was because you were worried about messing up your notes or forgetting the lyrics. But that wasn’t the case today. You had practiced the drama’s OST relentlessly, and knew the song forwards, backwards, and sideways. What you were nervous about was the fact that you were going to be singing a duet with Do Kyungsoo.

Not only were you totally intimidated by his vocals, but you also had the most mortifying crush on him. Everyone at the company seemed to know about it except him, and you wanted to keep it that day. You just hoped you wouldn’t make a fool of yourself in front of him today.

You jumped as he entered the room, springing to your feet. He looked ungodly handsome, clad in a black button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up halfway and jeans.

“Hey Y/N.” he smiled warmly as you locked eyes. “How’s it going?”

“Hey, I’ve been really good!” you choked out, playing with the sleeve of your sweater. “How about you? I saw you guys were in Jeju Island last week. I mean, on Instagram, I wasn’t there stalking you or anything. Not that I’m not a fan, but…” you stopped yourself before you dug down into an even deeper hole.

He chuckled at your babbling, somehow finding it endearing. “We were, it was a really good trip. Although I almost threw Baekhyun off a cliff while we were hiking.”

“Oh, that’s not good! Accidents happen, I suppose.” you shrugged, brushing your hair back behind your ears. You could feel a thin layer of sweat on the back of your neck, a telltale sign that you were nervous. You had to tell yourself to calm down, you didn’t want to look sweaty when they filmed the video.

“Oh no, it would’ve been on purpose. He was being insufferable.” he explained, grinning evilly. God, he was so attractive.

You laughed, genuinely this time. “I get it. Sometimes I want to strangle the girls.”

He hummed in amusement. “Look at us, bonding over wanting to kill our members.”

You giggled at his comment, feeling yourself relax slightly. Maybe this isn’t going to be so ba-

“Alright guys, the company wants us to film the video now, so in the booth.” your manager decreed as he entered the room.

Nevermind.

“We don’t get a chance to practice at all?” Kyungsoo asked, looking understandably irritated.

“I’m sorry guys, they forgot about the deadline they gave the marketing team for the drama.” the other man explained sympathetically. “They need it within the next hour, and editing is going to need at least a half hour after we film it.”

“Awesome…” you sighed, grabbing a pair of headphones and following Kyungsoo into the booth.

You could feel your nerves getting the better of you, making your hands shake and your throat go dry, both of which would not be good for your performance.

Kyungsoo seemed to notice this, and grabbed your hand gently. Your heart stopped, making you freeze in place.

“Hey, you’ve got this.” he whispered with a comforting smile. “You have the voice of an angel.”

Butterflies swarmed in your stomach. He thought your voice was angelic?

“Alright guys, camera is rolling.” your manager said from the control panel. Music starting in 3…2…”

You exhaled as the music started, letting yourself ease up. You glanced over at Kyungsoo. He was looking at you with such kind, sensitive eyes. You couldn’t help the smile that appeared on your face as you began to sing your lines. When you were looking at him, it was really easy to belt out a love song.

He seemed to feel the same way as he started singing his own verse, his smile never faltering as he gazed into your eyes affectionately.

As you began to sing the chorus together, it was like the stars aligned. You were perfectly in synch, voices intertwining together like two rivers of golden honey merging into one. You were both putting so much passion and energy into the song, the lyrics resonating in both of your hearts as you looked at one another.

As the song came to a close, you both held your notes until the music ended, looking at each other breathlessly. Both of your eyes were twinkling, and you could feel chills running down your spine. That was the best duet you had ever sung with anyone.

“That was amazing you guys!” your manager suddenly said, snapping you out of your daze. “I don’t know how you guys did it perfect on the first try, but great job!”

“Uh, thanks!” you stammered, removing your headphones. You started to blush as you realized the amazing connection you and Kyungsoo had just had. Your anxiety was quickly returning, causing you to act without thinking.

You turned to him. “God, it’s hot in here. Are you hot? I mean, you are hot, I mean-“

He looked at you expectantly, as if you could possibly recover from that humiliating sentence. However, he didn’t look embarrassed at all. He had a hopeful glint in his eyes and an anticipated smile.

However, you were far too overwhelmed with your own nerves to notice. “Well, I’m gonna go home. See you later alligator!”

And with that, you bolted out of the studio and ran back to your dorm, not stopping until you were back in your bedroom. Nabi and Kaori were shouting after you, but you just ignored them, slamming your door behind you.

You collapsed your back against the door and slid down until you were on the floor, placing your head in your hands. “‘See you later alligator?’ What am I, 50?!”

—————

After a few hours of cycling through rotting in your bed, pacing the floor in anxiety, crying out of humiliation, and passing out from exhaustion, you were disturbed by yet another knock on your door. You groaned, assuming it was one of your members trying to talk to you again.

“Dude, I love you, but go away, I need to be alone.” you grumbled, pulling your pillow up over your head.

You heard the door open and someone walk in, but you didn’t have the energy to look up. Maybe if I stay really still, they’ll think I’m dead, and then they’ll leave, you thought.

You felt them sink down on the bed next to you and place a hand on your shoulder. “Y/N? Can we talk?”

You snapped up, eyes widening as you realized who was in front of you. “Kyungsoo!” You frantically fixed your hair and wiped your face. “Oh god, I look terrible…”

“No you don’t.” he chuckled, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear.

You froze at his touch, relishing the feeling of his fingers in your hair before blinking back to reality. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I just thought you should know how well our OST is doing.” he grinned, pulling out his phone. You leaned forward to see the music video you made that already had millions of views in just a few short hours.

“Wow, people love it this much?” you asked in disbelief.

“That’s not all. Look at the comments.” he handed you his phone, and you did as he asked.

You know this drama’s gonna be good when they got Y/N AND Kyungsoo to sing the OST… total power vocal couple!

Y/N and Kyungsoo might as well be the main couple in the drama, their chemistry is insane

the way they sing the song to each other… my heart 💓 💓💓

You couldn’t help the giddy feeling that was blooming in your chest, attempting to fight off your smile to no avail. “They really like us, huh?”

He nodded, setting his phone back down. “There’s another reason I came here.”

“Hm?” you asked, cocking your head to the side in curiosity.

He took your hand in his, just as he had done in the recording booth earlier. “Y/N, you don’t have to be so nervous around me. I think you’re adorable, and I really like you.”

Fireworks went off in your stomach. “Y-you do?”

“Of course I do.” he laughed, shaking your hand in exaggeration. “Why do you think I asked to sing the OST with you?”

Your jaw unhinged in shock. “You asked to be paired with me?”

“Well yeah, how else was I going to get close to you?” he chuckled. “I was going to ask you out after we finished, but you ran away so quickly, I never got the chance.

You blinked at him a few times, then erupted into a fit of laughter. He joined you, doubling over slightly.

As you both settled down, he leaned in closer. “Will you go out with me?” he practically whispered.

You nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, yes! Of course I will!”

He smiled brighter than you had ever seen him do before, then slowly inched closer to your face. His eyes were focused on your lips.

Deciding you had been oblivious enough for one day, you took the hint and closed the distance between the two of you, crashing your lips onto his. He placed a hand delicately on your cheek, then began deepening the kiss, until you both pulled away, eyelids fluttering open slowly.

He smirked. “So, where do you want to go, angel voice?”

Kai:

“You’ve got it… you’ve got it…” Ten instructed you, guiding your movements. You were both in the dance practice room, covered in sweat as you went through the routine. You were working on a partner dance for your next solo album, and you wanted it to be with Ten, but somehow it just wasn’t going as planned. You were stumbling through the steps, there was no flow so your movements were jerky, and you somehow couldn’t shake the tense expression from your face.

As the music finished, you awkwardly caught your footing and struck the most pathetic ending pose you’d ever done. Ten gave you a crooked smile out of sympathy, which somehow made you feel ten times worse.

“Ugh, this is hopeless.” you sighed, throwing your hands up in resignation as you plopped down on the floor and leaned your back up against the mirror. “I’m never going to get this routine down in time.”

“Hey, it’s not your fault.” he attempted to reassure you, sitting down next to you. “You’re doing everything right. Sometimes, it just takes a little while to get the right feel for it.”

“Yeah, or I’m just a horrible dancer.” you huffed. You put your head in your hands and scrunched up your hair. The shoot was in two weeks, and this routine had to be perfect. Your fans deserved nothing less.

Ten was conflicted on what he should say next. On one hand, he wanted to tell you how amazing and talented you were, but on the other hand, he knew it wasn’t going to mean anything if you didn’t believe it yourself. He decided to grab a water bottle and hand it to you with a warm smile. “How about you just take a little break? I’m sure you’ll feel better in a few minutes.”

You smiled back at him, taking the water bottle from him gratefully. Your brow furrowed as he stood up and walked towards the door. “Where are you going?”

“I’m gonna go find something that’ll help.” he grinned over his shoulder before leaving the room.

You shook your head at his cryptic behavior, then collapsed back against the mirror, staring up at the ceiling in desperation. Please God, if you’re listening, please send me something to help with this dance.

“Y/N?” you heard someone ask from the doorway.

You snapped your head down to see who it was, and smiled widely at the pleasant sight before you. “Kai! What are you doing here?”

“Just checking in on my favorite junior.” he smirked, shutting the door behind him as he strolled in. His hands were shoved in the pockets of his jacket as he stopped in front of you, looking you over with a concerned expression. “What are you doing on the floor?”

“Just taking a break.” you replied, stretching slightly. “I’m too bad of a dancer not to.”

He frowned, crouching down to your level to glare at you. “Don’t say that about yourself. You’re an amazing dancer.”

“You haven’t seen me practice this routine.” you chuckled. “I’m sure you would change your mind if you did.”

“Alright then, show me.” he demanded, standing back up and taking a step back.

“Wait, like now?” you asked, slowly getting up yourself. “You don’t even know the routine…”

“I’m sure I can improvise.” he grinned, taking his jacket off and throwing it to the side, leaving him in just a cutoff tank top and sweats. “What, do you doubt my skills?”

“Absolutely not.” you chuckled. You had been secretly admiring him since before you even became a trainee, in more ways than one.

You got into position and waited for the music to start, then thrust into action as you began the routine. The first half went almost perfect, as it was just your solo part. You began to get nervous as the duet portion approached, feeling your muscles begin to tense up.

Kai approached you and placed his hands gently on your waist, a focused spark in his eyes. He somehow knew the exact partner position, and began guiding you across the floor.

“Relax, relax…” he instructed calmly, “remember to breathe.” He spun you around and placed a hand on the small of your back.

You inhaled deeply, holding the breath in your chest for a bit, then exhaled and released all the tension you didn’t realize you were holding onto. You started being able to flow through the moves better, but now you were hyper-focusing the footwork.

“Hey, don’t look at your feet. Focus on me.” he brought you back to center once again, twirling you back to face him and placing his hands on the sides of your face.

You looked up at him, locking in on his pretty brown eyes. It was as if they were telling you exactly what you needed to do, and for a moment, your body was running on autopilot, and all you thought about was being close to him.

“Show me that pretty smile, white swan.” he chuckled with a playful grin, instantly making you giggle and blush.

You actually couldn’t believe that you were going through the entire routine without any problems, and as you struck the ending pose, you were absolutely speechless. “That was…”

“Brilliant!” Ten suddenly interrupted you, causing you to jump away from Kai defensively.

“T-Ten!” you stammered nervously. “We were just-“

“It’s okay, I told him to come here.” your best friend smirked from the doorway. “I found him in the hall and he asked how you were doing.”

“You did?” you asked, a touched lilt to your voice.

“I told you, I wanted to check in on my favorite junior.” Kai explained, brushing the hair out of his face with an innocent half smile. “Ten said you were having trouble with the dance, so I had him show me the training video, and then I told him I’d help you.”

“Oh, well that’s a relief...” you sighed, glad you didn’t have to explain yourself to Ten. “So, you’re not-?”

“Jealous? Hardly.” he chortled, shaking his head. “In fact, I think you should do the dance with Kai for your music video.”

Your jaw unhinged slightly in shock. “Really?”

“Oh yeah, the chemistry is way better. You really seem to enjoy yourself when you’re dancing with him.” he teased, winking at you inadvertently.

You shot him a warning glare, then turned back to Kai. “Is that alright with you?”

“It’d be my pleasure.” he grinned, extending his hand to you. “Shall we?”

—————

It had been a week since your latest solo comeback dropped, and all of Starlight was losing their minds over it. Albums sold out everywhere, you had already one two awards, and everywhere you went, you heard it being played on the radio.

After one of your performance stages, you were sitting in your dressing room, and decided to look over some of the comments on the music video again. You always loved seeing what your fans had to say about your work.

There were a lot about how pretty you looked, how beautiful your vocals were, and how proud of you your fans were, all of which made you giddy with appreciation. However, some were starting to stick out to you and pique your interest. Particularly, the ones about your dance with Kai.

the tension between Y/N and Kai is so thick you could cut it with a knife 👀

i don’t think i’ve ever seen our Y/N dance so well with anyone else than with Kai… i hope they do more stuff together :)

anyone else think Y/N and Kai would make the PERFECT couple??? just me???

You felt your cheeks grow red and warm at the insinuation. I mean, sure, you had been fantasizing about dating Kai for years now. But now that you knew your fans approved, it was all the more flustering.

“Knock knock.” someone interrupted your thoughts as they entered your dressing room.

You looked up, then scoffed playfully. “Kai, if you keep showing up unannounced, I’m going to have to start locking my door. I could’ve been bare faced!”

“And you’d still look just as beautiful.” he commented, smiling at you genuinely.

You pouted your lips affectionately, then stood up to hug him. “Thank you so much.”

“Me? What for?” he asked, wrapping his arms around you to reciprocate the hug.

“If it wasn’t for you, I never would’ve gotten that dance down.” you beamed into his shoulder.

A quiet chuckle rang through your ears. “You already had everything you needed to accomplish it. I just pointed you in the right direction.”

You gave him one final squeeze, then invited him to sit down on the couch with you. “So, what brings you all the way here?”

“Well, I had to admit, seeing you do the dance with that backup dancer on stage made me pretty jealous.” he replied, a more serious expression appearing on his face.

“Oh?” you inquired, folding your hands in your lap. “Is that so?”

He nodded slowly. “Indeed. I was going to let it go, but after reading some of the comments on your music video, I was inspired to do something about it.”

Your heart soared as you imagined him reading the exact comments as you had read previously. Did he feel the same butterflies when he read them over?

“And what exactly are you going to do?” you asked, feeling your nerves vibrate harder with every passing second.

“I want to ask you out.” he told you. He leaned in closer to you, to where you could see the sparkle in his eyes. “Is that alright?”

“Yes, it is.” you replied, letting a huge smile plaster itself across your face. “And yes, I’ll absolutely go out with you.”

He replicated your large grin, patting your leg affectionately. “That’s wonderful. Because I don’t want you dancing with anyone else.”

You chuckled, squeezing his hand a bit. “Well, you’re going to have to fight my members for that right.”

He thought to himself for a moment, then shook his head. “I don’t think I could take them, they’re pretty tough. I’ll settle for being the only guy you dance with.”

“Deal.” you giggled, leaning forward to place a soft kiss on his cheek. “Thank you again, Kai.”

“You’re welcome, white swan.” he chimed. He rose up from his seat and walked over to the door. “I’ll leave you to unwind. I’ll text you later to set up the date, okay?”

You nodded, waving goodbye to him. “Sounds good, talk to you later!”

You turnt back to your mirror, beginning to brush out your curls. However, you were startled as Kai ran back into the room quickly.

He placed a bouquet of flowers on the vanity in front of you, then kissed you on the cheek briskly. “I almost forgot, these are for you. Congratulations on such a good comeback.”

Sehun:

“Excuse me, pardon me, ‘it girl’ coming through!” Nabi declared as you made your way through the busy photo shoot studio.

“Ugh, shut up Nabi!” you scowled over your shoulder at her. “I hate it when you call me that!”

“Hey, I’m not the only one.” the leader shrugged, chuckling mischievously. “Everyone calls you that nowadays.”

“Well, I’d prefer to only deal with it when I’m being interviewed.” you scoffed, setting your bag down at your vanity.

“Spoken like a true queen.” Nabi smirked, crossing her arms across her chest.

You rolled your eyes. “Why did you even come with me today?”

The younger girl shrugged. “You’ve been stressed lately. I figured I’d tag along to make sure you have a comedic buffer.”

You softened at her kind gesture, touching her arm lightly. “That’s really sweet of you.”

“They also always have huge snack buffets at these things.” she added. “I’m gonna go get a plate, okay?”

You went back to your previous mood, sighing and sitting down. “Yeah, just get me some chips.”

You watched her skitter off to the snack table, shaking your head at her. In front of the other girls, she was a strict, stern dictator. But around you, the only member older than her, she was a true child. However, she was your best friend, so you tried to find it endearing.

“Y/N?” a deep voice inquired from behind you.

You spun around in your chair and gawked at the realization of who stood in front of you. “Sehun?!”

He smiled at your surprise, holding out his arms in a dramatic gesture. “In the flesh.”

You sprung up out of your chair in an instant, practically jumping into his arms to give him a hug. He stumbled backwards a bit, laughing at your sudden affection, then caught his footing and wrapped his arms around you.

“I’ve missed you so much!” you told him, pulling away. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here for the Valentine’s Day shoot.” he replied.

You knit your brows together in confusion. “Really? Because this is…” You looked around the studio, then it dawned on you. There were heart shaped decorations and pink balloons everywhere, and the studio had a romantic, dim lighting.

“Oh… they didn’t tell me this would be a couple’s shoot…” you chuckled awkwardly.

His eyebrows raised in surprise. “Really? That’s strange. Maybe they knew you’d be nervous if you were told ahead of time that you’d be doing a shoot with the Great Oh Sehun.” He flipped his hair dramatically, a cocky smirk on his face.

You scrunched your nose up, hitting him on the arm playfully. “Ugh, don’t be so smug. It doesn’t suit you.” You were actually just trying to hide the fact that he was right.

Sehun had been slowly becoming one of your best friends at the company, ever since that day he walked in on you being bullied by a bunch of female trainees and silenced all of them with his presence. He was actually competing with Yeri, Ten, and Karina for a spot on your BFF list.

However, you had always secretly hoped for more with him. He was so kind, even though he could seem cold at first, and he always made you laugh. He was so caring, despite how hard he tried not to be, and had incredible wit and humor. Plus, there was the fact that he was incredibly handsome. Like, obnoxiously so. But, as much you wanted things to go to the next level, they remained stagnant. Neither of you were the most upfront about your feelings.

“There you guys are!” the director suddenly clapped his hands behind you, pulling you away from your conversation. “I’ll let makeup and wardrobe know you’re here, and we should be able to start shooting in about an hour.”

You both nodded and thanked him, then turned back to one another.

“See you behind the camera.” Sehun proposed with a minuscule wink that was so small you wouldn’t have caught it if you hadn’t been admiring his features so closely these past few years.

You sent him one last smile, then turned back to your vanity while he strode over to his own.

Suddenly, Nabi reappeared next to you with a plate full of snacks. “What was that about?” she asked, crunching on a pretzel.

“Oh nothing, I just have to do an amorous photo shoot with my secret crush.” you grumbled, falling back against your chair with your hands bunched up in your hair. “Did you get my chips?”

Her eyes widened. “I’m sorry, I forgot.”

“Nabi! Either be helpful or leave!”

—————

The hour of makeup and wardrobe went by way too fast for your liking. You had been trying to build up your courage to no avail. It seemed hopeless. How on Earth were you going to do a romantic couple’s shoot with your crush without it looking you were hopelessly devoted to him? Not that you weren’t, you just didn’t need the whole world knowing it. That would be mortifying, not to mention a total career killer.

You walked over to the photo setup, which featured a red velvet sofa and a table with an extravagant bouquet of flowers. You swallowed the hard lump in your throat, making one last stitch effort to calm yourself down. Settle down, Y/N. It’s just a photo shoot with your colleague. I’m sure he won’t even be-

“Is this chain on straight?” your thoughts were interrupted by the man in question. You flipped around to see him dressed in a deep v-neck black blazer with a white button-up shirt underneath, the top three buttons undone to reveal his chest, adorned with a glimmering silver chain necklace. His thick black locks were tousled and textured perfectly around his forehead, and his skin was practically glowing.

Okay nevermind, time to panic.

“Holy shit, you look hot.” you heard yourself speak, although you don’t remember making the decision to. Instant regret flooded your brain, and you immediately began apologizing. “Oh my god, I meant the chain looks hot. I’m sorry. I mean, not that you’re not hot, I just…”

“Thank you.” he cut you off, a pleased smile evident on his features. “You look hot too.”

Your heart practically jumped out of your chest. “Th-Thank you…” You were sure your face was as red as a tomato. However, you had to admit, you did look pretty hot in your tight red dress, pearls, vampy lipstick, and red strappy heels.

“Alright, we’re ready to get started!” the director declared from his chair. “Sehun, I’d like to start with you laying on the couch horizontally. Y/N, go ahead and sit on his lap facing the camera.”

You did as instructed, although uncomfortably. He sensed your tension and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“It’s okay, just relax.” he suggested, a reassuring smile directed at you.

You gave him an appreciative grin, loosening up and leaning into his form.

“Okay, now Sehun, put your chin on Y/N’s shoulder and rest your head against her neck. Y/N, just keep looking forward.”

The camera flashed a few times, with a few breaks in between to look over the shots.

“I’m really proud of you, you know.” Sehun told you while the camera crew was busy.

“What do you mean?” you asked him, laying against the back of the couch.

“You’ve come a long way from the girl I met who was letting some older trainees pick on her.” he teased. “I’ll never forget the look on your face when I appeared next to you.”

You laughed at the memory. “And I’ll never forget the looks on those girls’ faces when you told them off.”

He joined you in your laughter. “Notice how none of them are at the company anymore, and how you’re the ‘it girl’ now?”

You smiled contentedly. “Everyone seems to be calling me that these days.”

He suddenly scooped you up in his arms and pulled you down to his chest, ruffling your hair affectionately. “You’ve always been my ‘it girl’ Y/N, from day one.”

You squealed as he caged you in his arms, feigning resistance. A sudden flash went off, and you both looked up to see the camera crew staring at you blankly.

“Ah, sorry guys, that was my fault...” a feeble intern announced nervously. “I accidentally hit the wrong button.”

“Wait, let me see that shot…” the director demanded, motioning for the camera to be brought over to him. He looked it over, then turnt to you both with a baffled expression. “This is it. This is our cover photo.”

“What? No way.” you marveled, getting up and walking over to the director. Sehun followed you, catching you as you stumbled a bit in your heels. You looked at the photo, and soon you were both making the same face that the director had made a few seconds ago. “Woah… this is amazing…”

“Look at how beautiful you are…” Sehun commented, taking in the picture lovingly.

You blushed, nudging him slightly.

The director clapped his hands dramatically, snapping you both back to reality. “Alright, let’s keep this energy going! Next I want a shot of Y/N pulling Sehun in by his chain!”

—————

A few days later, you were chilling out at the dorm with your members, having a much needed girls’ night. All of your favorite snacks were laid out on the coffee table, you were all in your pajamas, and there was a cheesy rom-com playing on the TV, even though none of you were paying attention to it. You were far too busy gossiping, squealing, and beautifying each other. It might have been stereotypical girl behavior, but it was incredibly therapeutic.

“Everyone shut up!” Nabi suddenly decreed, jumping up on the couch and holding something behind her back.

You looked up from braiding Kaori’s hair. “Oh god, what is it now?”

The younger girls all laughed, finding it hilarious that you were the only one able to talk to Nabi like that.

“Well ‘it girl,’ it just so happens that I have the most recent issue of Elle in my hands.” the leader grinned evilly, brandishing the magazine out in front of her.

The other three girls all gasped and rushed over to grab at it, except for Iseul, who just jumped up and down excitedly. Her nails were still wet from Marie painting them a few minutes ago.

“Oh my god, you look so hot!” Marie marveled, flipping through the glossy pages.

“Yeah, and this one of you pulling Sehun in by his chain is just perfect!” Iseul nodded in agreement.

“Wait, the shoot was with Sehun?” Kaori asked, her eyes going wide with innocent shock.

“Yes Kaori, we talked about it three days ago. Keep up.” Marie groaned at the maknae.

“Hey, be nice.” you warned protectively. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Yeah right. You’ve only been in love with him for years now.” Nabi challenged you, jumping down from the couch.

“I am not in love with him.” you rolled your eyes. “Besides, he doesn’t feel that way about me.”

“The fans seem to think differently.” Nabi commented smugly, whipping out her phone. “Look what they’re saying on Elle’s post about it.”

You snatched the phone out of her hand and began to skim over the comments.

you could tell me the cover shot was totally improvised and i’d believe you… their affection looks so real <3

who knew the oldest member of Etoile and the youngest member of EXO would make such a fire couple? TOTAL goals!

The fact that they’ve been friends since Y/N was a trainee makes this so much cuter… they’re clearly in love with each other 💞

These two OWN Valentine’s Day now 😤

“Look at how big her smile is!” Kaori grinned admiringly at you.

“I know, it’s so cute!” Marie added, wrapping her arms around your maknae and twirling her around. “‘Oh Sehun, please marry me!’”

“‘Oh Y/N, I’d love to make you my wife!’” the younger girl acted out, giggling madly.

You scowled, trying not to laugh along with them. “How come you two only get along when it’s at my expense?”

You all froze as the sound of a phone ringing suddenly cut through the noise.

You looked over at the end table to see your phone lit up and vibrating. You picked it up and unhinged your jaw as you saw who it was from. “It’s Sehun. I’m gonna go take this.” You got up and rushed down the hall to your bedroom.

The three youngest members attempted to follow you, but Nabi stood protectively in front of the hallway. “Nope, no one is eavesdropping. This should be private.” Marie, Iseul, and Kaori started pouting and vocalizing their protest. That was, until Nabi gave them her signature glare. “Living room, now.” She really was a great leader when she wanted to be.

Shutting your door behind you, you answered the call. “Hello?”

“Hey Y/N, it’s me.” Sehun said from the other end. He sounded uncharacteristically anxious.

“Hey, is everything okay?” you asked in a concerned manner.

“Oh yeah, I’m fine.” he coughed nervously. “I just wanted to… you know….”

“Wanted to what?” you giggled, sitting down on your bed.

You heard him exhale momentarily as if mentally preparing himself for something. “If you’d like to go out with me for Valentine’s Day?”

Your breath hitched in your chest. “What?”

“Don’t make me say it again…” he sighed, clearly having trouble being this forward. “I just… we had so much fun at the shoot together… and you’re just so cool, and fun, and pretty. I’ve never really known how or when to say it, but… something about that couples’ shoot just pushed me to go for it. So will you?”

You clutched onto your chest as if it was the only thing keeping you grounded to Earth. “Yes… yes, of course I will!”

“Really?” he marveled, sounding genuinely surprised. “I can’t believe you agreed.”

“Sehun, I’ve literally been waiting for you to ask me out for years now.” you chuckled. “You’re the worst at picking up on signals.”

“Yeah, well you’re not very good at sending them.” he teased, clearly getting his confidence back.

You laughed cutely into the phone. “We’re not very good at this are we…”

“No, not at all.” he chortled, shaking his head. You could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke. “And just so you know… I meant it when I said that you’ve been my ‘it girl’ since day one.”

You blushed with a small smile. “I usually hate it when people call me that. But with you, it feels good.”

“Well, I’ll have to call you by that name as much as possible. Then you can be mine exclusively, and no one else’s.” he replied.

You laughed once again, feeling like a giddy school girl. “I always have been, remember?”

He laughed at your sudden cockiness, knowing that you definitely learned it from him. “I’ll see you on Valentine’s Day?”

You nodded, feeling your lips curl up into a grin. “I’ll see you then.”

“Goodnight, my ‘it girl.’”

“Goodnight Sehun.” you giggled, hanging up the phone. You then threw it across the room and flopped back onto your bed, rolling around and kicking your feet in ecstasy.

“Y/N! What happened?” Marie suddenly burst through your door, followed by the other girls. You assumed Nabi held them off as long as she could, but eventually lost strength. There were three of them after all.

You sat up, brushing your hair out of your face. “Guess who’s going out with Sehun on Valentine’s Day!”

The four girls all screamed and jumped on your bed, showering you with praise and congratulations. You laughed as you captured them all in a group hug. It was then that you realized you didn’t need to be the ‘it girl’ to be happy, you just needed moments like these. And with Sehun, they seemed to just keep coming.

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