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#so if he had that management company would any of his talent be getting any visibility? that's one thing
beautifulpersonpeach · 22 hours
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Not gonna lie, this whole thing really sucks. I think I wrote a message awhile back about the very cool feminist angle of the Plus Global Auditions Invitation video, I'm an SNL Army and was new to watching kpop very closely and was so sold by that video. I thought - 'this company is really different.' Going public with a company f*cks a lot of things up, it happens all so often, and often it's the people and the ethos that gets messed up the most. It's frustrating to see this devolution. Because I was really excited by what MHJ was being given space to do at BH/Hybe. Though, as a fellow art school student, I am shaking my head and serious side-eyes at how she says things like 'I'm an artist, I don't know how to read contracts' (obviously I'm paraphrasing) - it's clear Hybe knows she's got the goods but she's not playing by their game anymore. The response and flood of crazy comments and hate at BTS is frustrating but expected, but just such a waste of time all the same. I've also never thought BH and then Hybe were super super smart and long-gaming everything (don't come for me Bangtan U fans) I think they were lucky and scrappy and skillful and making cool things happen moment to moment. Later on they got better at the strategic planning, sure. I don't know. They may need a good kick in the pants to remember that's what makes them great at what they do. But still, I hate the idea of MHJ being cooked even if she seems like a real pain in the tush to work with. Because technically, she's what got me to really buy-in to what BTS & BH were doing in the first place.
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Yeah, it's a shitty situation.
To be fair, I think at the start, Bang PD was trying to do something different and 'forward-thinking' with HYBE. He sought out good talent going by the hires he did in 2019/2020, managing to onboard creatives like Min Heejin and Zico. Zico already incorporated his company to manage himself before Bang PD approached him, which is probably why he owns ~24.5% of KOZ - his sub-label in HYBE.
But with Min Heejin...
She had partnered with 250 - a popular DJ in Korea and NewJeans' main producer, since she left SM in 2018. He runs BANA (a creative collective) but she'd wanted her own label since the start.
Bang PD knew this, and wanted her for HYBE, so it's likely he made all sorts of promises to get her on board without awarding her a single share. Almost as soon as key creative decisions had to be made post-Global Plus audition, they both clashed, but HYBE as a company was less than 1 year old and it appears Bang PD and MHJ still had good relations... which was kinda easy since he still needed her creative output and wanted to see what she could do. So they let her make her own label: ADOR, and keep NewJeans even though according to Min Heejin, HYBE executives and Bang PD thought her concept and style of music for them would be impossible to sell to k-pop stans.
They expected NewJeans to fail or flounder. Instead, by 2023 NewJeans had become one of the top 5 most valuable k-pop IPs in Korea. If my guess is right, by that point she had no shares in ADOR, no agreement with HYBE's indefinite non-compete clause. She could walk anytime and I'm sure a lot of people wanted her.
Then HYBE approached Min Heejin with the shareholder contract to give her 20% of the company. It's a classic 'carrot and stick'. The carrot was easy to see. Apparently offered her the shares at a very low price, apparently Bang PD even lent her the money to buy it, for a valuation that HYBE considered more than generous, he was in her KakaoTalk chats buttering her up with those godawful emojis lmaooo. He was selling that shit hard. The stick in the contract was the poison pill which essentially tied her to HYBE for as long as they want her.
Perhaps she was aware of the pill and signed any way because at that point they still had good relations with Bang PD and HYBE in general. But according to her, Bang PD kept wanting more control over NewJeans the more successful the group became. Realizing she had to do something about the poison pill, she sought to negotiate, and as is typical in these sort of situations, you fight greed with more greed.
Asking to bump up the multiple on the options from 13x to 30x is frankly ridiculous. For a male CEO I can see it being considered... maybe, but for a woman? In Korea?
I'm sure when the other suits at HYBE heard that's what she was asking, at least one of them almost had a stroke. The logic is simple though: start crazy high and end.. just high. If HYBE was looking to exert more control over NewJeans (for example, every sub-label and group in HYBE changed to using 'bio-paper and ink' for their albums starting in 2023, to help HYBE meet their ESG targets. The only company that's not made the switch yet, is ADOR. Given how carefully MHJ controls branding and album design for NewJeans, I can see this minute detail being a massive thorn lol)... anyway, if HYBE was indeed looking to gain more control, the fact that they'd have to pay 30x if MHJ exercised her options on a whim, would serve as a very strong deterrent.
Given what I understand Korean corporate culture to be like, I doubt she had any friends in upper management to start, but with a demand like that, practically all of them would turn enemies in a heartbeat. It's the sheer audacity lmao. My guess is she would've eventually negotiated down, at least once she was assured real creative independence from Bang PD. But at some point, rather, quite predictably given this is corporate Korea, the need for control and the egos involved decided she had to be cut loose now and perhaps taught to not bite the hand that feeds her.
It's not a sentiment limited to the suits at HYBE. It's followed her since SM and the general public would hate it too, which is one reason I think it's only a matter of time before the narrative switches again to HYBE's favour. I promise you, most regular men in Korea would go red in the face, eyes bulging out their heads, drool and spit shooting out like projectiles, at the thought she would dare to demand such a thing. And in a way they'd be right. It's an insane amount of money for female creative in Korea, but I think given everything else, it also seems like a gamble she was taking as a means to an end. A simple negotiating tactic, given what she keeps highlighting as her main goal - unimpeded and full creative and managerial control.
Bang PD wants to build a 'forward-thinking' company comparable to Western conglomerate juggernauts like SONY and Warner Music, but I don't think these Korean men have the chops to do it right, just yet. I've had that impression of Bang PD for a few years now. He's been getting results, but they are inconsistent and he's got the biggest 'surety' in a sense with BTS, so he's been fine, and will continue to be fine for a few more years at least. But if they are messing up this spectacularly with their first female executive and one of their most valuable IPs, over... an options price negotiation?
And they want to pretend to be better than any other corp in Korea?
Lol.
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Anyhoo.
I sympathize a bit with how you feel, but as a Korean woman, I guess I'm numb to it. There's a reason I've never chosen to work in that country, there's a reason why the birth rate is nearing the negatives. It's really unfortunate, and I'm sorry you're seeing a prior expectation you had getting blown up this way. And this latest hatefest on BTS has been quite ugly and isn't near done yet. This whole situation is gross, and even more so when the motivations behind it are so... banal and backwards.
But these are undercurrents that are too simple and boring for the average stan. Burning the witch who is responsible for masterminding the demise of a virtuous group is far more exciting. And so that's how the story will go.
I just hope that by some miracle, NewJeans turns out okay and manages to thrive after this. Because in all of this mess, they will deal with the implications the most and for the longest time.
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izacore · 1 year
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I don’t think Louis wants anyone (his fans, the industry, the 3 ppl in the gp who care) to speculate/talk about his personal life at all. The child as a proxy for being straight is meant to shut it all down (never mind that queer men legitimately father children all the damn time). I think if Harry had not gotten to be as big as he is this wouldn’t be such an issue for Louis (regardless of their current relationship status of which I have no opinion) - which is why the kid talk returned when it did, and why L had to get this album out to clear the extremely Harry-centric LT1 album out of the fan consciousness. Louis just wants no one in his business and if that means burning bridges with existing fans he’s ok with that. I’m hoping he focuses more on the business side of music and developing new artists in the future where a personal narrative to sell a brand or songs doesn’t matter.
Damn, there's so many parts of this ask that I want to comment on but I think what best sums up my thoughts in regards to all the Louis' actions you pointed out is: big mistake, huge.
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fiendishfables · 3 months
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Can I please request dom! Lucifer eating you out? I just know that man is very talented with his tongue
a/n: say less, really; short and sweet lovin' from Luci
warnings: nsfw, eating out, cursing, dom dom Luci
words: 676
additional notes: Thank you all so much for 110+ followers! It means the world to me that you guys enjoy my writing so much!
"Luxury of the King."
Dom! Lucifer Morningstar x Reader
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The white, silk sheets beneath you rustled softly. Gentle puffs of air left your lips, saliva coating their plush surface in a light layer. The familiar black dots began aligning along the edges of your vision. Chest rising and falling with erratic patterns; a light sheen of sweat adorning your brow, seeping lightly into your hairline. You felt and looked like the epitome of an absolute wreck.
And it was all because of the man who's head was currently buried between your legs.
Despite your clear state of overstimulation, he was a relentless predator. Well, his forked tongue, rather. It worked against and inside you, like you would be the last thing it ever got to taste. Flicking against you, tasting all of the sweet nectar you had to provide for him. He was determined to eat you dry.
"I-I'm sorry, darling. You just taste s-so...fuck...so damn good."
His mouth continued its assault against you, making sure to take his time and devour you all in the same set of actions.
If he could just stay in between your legs all hours of the day, oh how he could die a happy man. No worries or strife, just you splayed out for him, presenting yourself as a canvas for his tongue to travel. He gulped at the thought.
You truly were the best luxury a king like himself could have.
Lucifer knew he didn't deserve you. He always asked himself how he got so damn lucky with happening upon you, but he never got too curious upon questioning, nor greedy when it came to your services. This was enough to take him all the way to Heaven and back. What more could he possibly ask for, other than your lovely company?
He noticed how your hips were now beginning to move more, as if trying to get away from his relentless tongue. Just the thought of your sweet taste being abandoned from his warm, forked muscle made his pupils slit and eyes narrow. In response, he placed a gentle yet authoritative hand on your lower tummy, pushing your trembling hips downwards to the mattress; that's where they were to stay until he was done with you. You were a gift from Heaven he was sure, and Hell be damned if he didn't savor it. Just thinking that seemed like madness. Lucifer wanted to taste everything you had to offer him. Every. Single. Thing.
"Stay still. Don't you dare try to move away from me." He growled, voice dropping much lower than its normal octave, causing you to flinch in surprise. His head had come up and out from between your legs, almost enticing a whine from your throat at the loss of stimulation, yet a sigh of relief at the same time for the smidgen of a break you were currently being blessed with.
The sudden change in his attitude was a bit of a surprise, but you'd be lying if you said it wasn't hot as hell. The puppy dog side of your boyfriend was what you were most used to, so seeing him act this way instead was a very nice change of pace. You could never be scared of him; your safe word was always at your disposal if you felt he was being too demanding or rough, and he knew it too. So unless you used it, he would continue with his advances.
You looked at him through half-lidded eyes and offered the best nod you could manage with the state you were in, letting your head fall back to its original position on the fluffed pillows, lungs grasping for any sort of air they could muster up.
He gave a low nod back, a sly smile gracing his lips as he licked around them in order to clear off the remnants of your juices that he had yet a chance to devour like the other servings he managed to obtain.
"Good..." He said with a pointy smirk, before lowering his head once again to get right back to work.
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lexirosewrites · 16 days
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Wealthy omega Steve going on an arranged date each week to the same restaurant because his parents want him to find a mate.
Alpha Eddie who busks in the parking lot for tips and always offers him a cigarette and a shoulder to cry on after it doesn’t work out.
It takes them a while.
“Another one? That’s the third date this week, pretty boy. You going for a record or something?” Eddie asks, already holding his half-finished cigarette out for Steve to take.
He does. It’s his only reward for doing all of this.
Well, that and Eddie.
Eddie makes this easier.
Steve takes a long draw from it, craving the burn of nicotine more than he cares to admit to himself.
He craves Eddie’s company too, but that’s between him and the cigarette.
“Yeah, my parents are working overtime it seems. They’re bound and determined to have me mated off before spring.”
Steve laughs.
Eddie doesn’t.
“They sound awful.”
They are. Their insistence on old-fashioned values and treating their omega son like a burden to be rid of is proof enough.
“They mean well,” he says. “I think.”
Eddie hums thoughtfully. It’s clear that he disagrees.
Steve passes the cigarette back.
The alpha snubs it out on the sidewalk they’re sitting on instead.
“How long are you gonna keep doing this for?”
“Well, as long as it takes to find someone who’s interested, I guess. There’s not an exact timeline or any—”
Eddie startles Steve when he cuts him off with a growl.
He doesn’t look mad, but his forehead creases, deep frown, and sour scent speaks of irritation.
“Not what I meant.”
Oh.
“I don’t know, Eddie. They’re my parents… and it’s not like I’ve got anyone else knocking down my door.”
Even his dates aren’t interested once they’ve met him in person.
Steve always looks good on paper. He’s attractive and from an upstanding family, a decent investment at first glance.
But then he opens his mouth. That’s where their interest always ends.
Sometime between shaking hands and dessert, their eyes get bored and they start checking their watch more. They don’t bother to hide that they’re running out the clock, eager to be away from Steve.
He thought it would hurt less after a while, but it doesn’t.
“How many times are we gonna do this, Stevie?“
And now even Eddie is bored with him. It makes sense. They’ve been meeting up for months and Steve isn’t worth much for stimulating conversation.
It had to end eventually.
“I’m sorry. I— I didn’t realize I was bothering you. I can leave you to your gigging, man. Let me just—”
Steve reaches for his wallet, pulling out a thick wad of bills to shove in Eddie’s guitar case as an apology for taking up his precious time.
Compensation for the therapy.
“Hey, no— that’s not what I meant, baby. I just— ugh, why is this so hard to say?” Eddie groans, grabbing at his own hair in frustration.
Steve hasn’t the faintest idea what’s ailing Eddie. The guy is normally chill 100% of the time. It’s why Steve goes to him for comfort. He’s hard to shake.
“Sorry?” he tries.
“No, I’m sorry! I just can’t sit here for yet another evening and pretend like there are more fish in the sea for you or whatever,” Eddie explains frantically, his eyes begging Steve to understand.
Ouch. Okay. Point made.
Steve is unlovable, got it.
He stands, brushing off his slacks so his shaking hands aren’t as noticeable.
Keep cool. Breathe.
“Understood. I won’t bother you anymore then. I can park across the street next time too. Good luck with everything, Eddie. I’m sure your band will get signed soon, you’re a talented musician.”
Eddie shoots to his feet, almost tripping over his own lanky limbs in the process.
He grabs the sleeve of Steve’s dress shirt, stopping him from leaving.
“Don’t go on anymore dates.”
Jesus.
“Yeah, I got it the first time, thanks. I’m undesirable. Can you stop repeating it?”
Eddie looks like he’s been slapped, but he doesn’t say anything back. The bluntness must have caught him off guard.
Steve sighs, attempting to pull free from the alpha’s grip.
He almost manages it.
But then Eddie snaps back to reality and his eyes go wide for just a split moment before he kisses Steve right on the lips.
It’s unexpected to say the least.
It’s also probably the best kiss of his entire life. Too bad it’s from someone who just told him to quit dating because nobody will ever want to court him.
They finally break apart and Steve sways.
“Eddie… what in the actual hell are you—?”
“I love you! I love you— I’ve been in love with you for months, but you insist on going on all these dates with alphas who have no taste and they keep breaking your heart and leaving me to pick up the pieces, but I don’t want to keep handing them back. I want to keep you, Steve. I want to be the only alpha you go on dates with.”
Steve stops trying to run away.
Instead, he yanks at the collar of Eddie’s shirt, tugging him into another, longer kiss.
This is love, huh? Makes sense.
His lips are warm and so is his heart. Patched up once more and encased in a body other than his own
No more arranged dates.
“That was a ‘yes,’ in case it didn’t translate.”
Eddie’s face is flushed and his happy smile is infectious.
“I don’t have the kind of money your usual dates have, but I had this really cute guy way overtip me earlier. Can I buy you dinner, pretty boy?”
It’s the first of many.
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sinizade · 4 months
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Izveta Noquar
Class: Rogue
Dark Urge (Evil but "redeemed")
Romance: Astarion (Ascended)
Besties: Why does she need friends if she has her own company? (Shadowheart is her bestie)
Being the youngest adopted daughter of the prestigious Noquar family in Menzoberranzan, Izveta was able to surpass the matriarch's biological daughters in any aspect, battles or manipulations. The drow had a natural talent for killing ever since she first held a weapon, the family's only concern about the girl was her constant conversations with a butler who seemed like only she could see, but often some other drow could see a small shadow next to her, almost as if whispering in her ear.
Her first love was the first person Izveta killed, a handsome young elf with beautiful green eyes almost the same age as her who was given to her as a gift by her mother. The young drow really thought he loved her the way she loved him, but she discovered the hard way that it was all just cruel manipulation for him to try to kill her and escape... What he didn't expect was that it would be a trigger for something cruel and bloodthirsty to awaken in Izveta who hunted him like an animal and slit his throat completely, leaving him unrecognizable...
Izveta ended up finding out from her butler that her sisters planned to kill her to reduce the matriarch's chances of choosing Izveta to replace her as head of the family. The young drow, possessed by anger and a feeling of betrayal, slew her sisters, showing them both to her mother like a trophy, but she didn't react as Izveta expected... The woman who raised her all her life tried to kill her and was once again overcome by hatred, Izveta killed her own mother, afraid of the reaction of the other drow, she fled to the surface where her butler constantly talks about a place she could actually consider a real home, where she would be accepted and loved for who she truly is
Getting used to the surface culture was one of the biggest difficulties for Izveta, not having males to satisfy her whims or soldies to do as she commanded was a reality check. The males on the surface were not as submissive and obedient as those who served her in Menzoberranzan and this ended up involving her in several fights in the places where she managed to stay, but it wasn't long until she finally found that place her butler talked about, her home, The Temple of Bhaal, the Lord of Murder... Her father. She didn't like her father's temple, it wasn't quite what she imagined as she thought it would be something grand like a castle or a fortress, but it fit with the cliche "I am a homicidal God"
Baldur's Gate was truly a lovely city, so full of light and life, Izveta simply loved walking through the dark alleys looking for some clueless person who would follow her wherever she took them, so that was when she met that dark-haired human man who He wasn't looking at her with fear, but curiosity and even perhaps admiration? Izveta didn't know for sure, but receiving that look after so long made her interested in knowing more about this human, knowing more about this "Enver Gortash"
The years after meeting Enver seemed to improve her mood. Izveta might have loved killing, feeling the hot blood on her hands, but she loved even more being pampered, receiving gifts, ordering and having her carpices supplied whenever she wanted and Enver made a point of doing all of this for her, giving some small gifts like rings, necklaces, masks... Izveta LOVES masks. Even though vanity is not something much used either in the Bhaal temple or by his followers, Izveta always loved simply beautifying herself, makeup, big jewelry, hairstyles for her long white hair, she loved spending minutes and even hours just beautifying herself with makeup or the blood of someone she killed. Enver managed to make her see him as an equal, not just an equal, a potential partner both with this strange plan with a "brain" and in bed, he had a thirst in his eyes, a thirst for her and she would quench that thirst every time he begged for her...
For some reason, losing her memories, even if it caused a certain frustration, at the same time caused relief... Being able to recreate her story without memories of the past to worry about
Some may think that Izveta redeemed herself by denying her "family heritage" by denying Bhaal, but her wave of chaos was just beginning. Astarion may think he controls her, that she is his beautiful spawn waiting only to receive orders from her lord, but something he doesn't even suspect is that he is right in the palm of her hand... A little flattery, a few whispers in his ear, a few touches on his chest and he does exactly what she wants and when she wants, he may not feel anything anymore or maybe feel, but the memories of the love he once felt for her are what give her power. Being a Bhaalspawn may have its advantages, but having the control of an ascended vampire lord was much better and as a vampire spawn everything is even more delicious, an eternity delighting in the death of whoever she wants and without any consequences... No There's nothing more she wants
Some extra information about Izveta
She loves white, she loves seeing the white of her clothes stained with blood, she loves seeing how her skin is highlighted while wearing white, she simply loves the color white.
She felt a little sorry for Orin, her little blood kin might be a kinda crazy, but she wasn't a bad person... At least not before her mother tried to kill her.
The only bad thing about denying her "father" was losing Sceleritas... Her butler, her true father... one of the few creatures she truly felt affection for
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forbidden-sunlight · 6 days
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yandere!ceo with villainess!reader scenario [part two]
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warnings: implied infidelity, implication of obsessive thoughts or love, workplace toxicity, non consensual surveillance.
There might be potential triggers in this piece. If you do not feel comfortable with reading it, please hit the 'back' button on your phone or laptop and find something much more pleasant to read than a potential series of unfortunate events.
You are responsible for your Internet consumption.
Reblog to support content creators! ❤️
Hey guys, and welcome to part two of my new original yandere oc x series, featuring the good-looking prick and CEO of his family's conglomerate, Yeo Jung-Hwa.
This is a collaboration between me and the incredibly talented @deathmetalunicorn1. Special thanks to @pinkgoldweebgirl for their honest feedback on the earlier drafts of this project and @impeakcharacterdesign for being my beta-reader for the final draft.
I definitely was not expecting such positive feedback on the first part in less than a week, so thank you all for reblogging, liking, and commenting your thoughts on it, they really made some of my more stressful days in the medical field a little brighter :)
Also, if the lofi vibes nor are the clothes written in here aren’t your thing, feel free to insert whatever is your preferred interior theme and fashion/clothing style.
So with that being said, sit back, relax, and enjoy the drama being unfolded on the stage.
Part one
Yeo Jung-Hwa was unhappy with the series of events that had occurred at the office. Hyueng Mun-Hee had bursted into his office with tears streaming down her bright red face, sobbing about how she cannot stand being bullied by the team manager of her department any longer. Who was the team manager?
You. His fiancee. The woman he must marry. A promise between his father and yours that would be beneficial to everyone involved - everyone except him. Wasn’t he entitled to experience pure joy of being loved and in love? To be with someone who wasn’t tiresome and annoyed him all the time? 
Meeting Hyeung Mun-Hee had felt like seeking the sky for the first time. She was a breath of fresh air to his stifling world. Hearing your most recent act of cruelty towards her had been the final straw. And like any self-respecting CEO, he texted the CFO to look into it before all hell had broken loose. He was receiving emails from the managers of all the other departments left and right, all with the same attachment. Botched up documents. And the one who had sent it was none other than Hyeung Mun-Hee. 
But he didn’t believe it at first.
 He truly thought it was another underhanded trick you had created to get Hyeung Mun-Hee fired because that’s exactly the sort of person you are to him; a dishonest, greedy, arrogant woman whose saving grace as a human being is an excellent work ethic. Once he had calmed his darling, drying her tears with his handkerchief, he marched into the Finance Department and demanded answers from you as soon as he got off of the phone with his panicked CFO. Instead of apologizing for what you did, you explained how Hyeung Mun-Hee made mistakes and you gave her a chance to fix them, but she did not correct them. She completed the required training. She knows how to calculate and make spreadsheets, so why is she pushing her work onto others? 
More importantly, you fixed her mistakes and sent out the correct ones to the other departments. Everything has been resolved, but you wanted Hyeung Mun-Hee to attend the company’s financial seminars to ensure that this embarrassing incident does not happen again. As much as he despised you, every point you made was correct…especially after he retreated to his office and compared the budget allocations on his monitors; Hyeung Mun-Hee’s on the left and yours on the right. The numbers in his darling’s work were completely off, and they could have cost the company hundreds of thousands if the situation hadn’t been resolved. 
He was certain that it was sheer dumb luck. 
Just because you had prevented a major internal disaster from occurring doesn’t mean he would ever look at you as he looked at Hyeung Mun-Hee. In a cesspool filled with hypocrites and liars, his darling is a breath of fresh air. Pure, kind-hearted, committed. Loving. So many qualities you lacked. Yet is it all that it seems? He thought, sitting alone in his home office late at night. If Hyeung Mun-Hee made these mistakes, why didn’t she just admit it instead of coming to me? 
He wanted to believe she was telling the truth, yet the proof is right there on his computer. Like his predecessors, he needed to take on the responsibility of a leader and make sure that the conglomerate’s integrity remained intact. However, he also desired to shelter his darling from the world’s cruelty. Remove her from the department and secretly marry her so that they could be together at last. He is selfish, but he has the right to bask in his own happiness. Unlike some people.
Well, if he can’t outright get the truth from you…then he’ll just have to call in a favor from a certain someone in the underworld. The person in question could set up cameras in your bedroom by slipping in and out of your estate as a groundskeeper or pest control and no one would be the wiser. He could do it for a price and make sure that nothing could be traced back to him. The last thing Yeo Jung-Hwa wanted is to be arrested for illegally filming someone without their consent.
Not when this is an opportunity to sever ties with you completely, once and for all. 
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Two days later, he received an email and an attachment. When he clicked on it, four camera angles appeared on his desktop. All of them were in your room. But is this really your room? He expected it to be clean with sleek, wooden floors covered by monochrome carpeting and a walk-in closet filled to the brim with extravagant clothes, shoes, purses that she wouldn’t wear twice in her life. The uninspiring minimalist bougie interior design that is being coveted amongst the upper classes. Your taste was much more comforting. It appeared cozy, with soft lighting and warm blankets. 
Strings of fairy lights strung up across the ceiling.  A full bookshelf was near the bed. The floor was decorated with knitted ottomans and candles.  You lit them all back up as soon as you returned from the company, much later in the evening and when he was in his home office, cradling a cup of black coffee. 
You disappeared into the back for a moment, returning in a two-piece fleece loungewear with mushrooms and plants on them. Something he had expected to see Hyeung Mun-Hee dressed in, but not you. Were you trying to copy his lover’s tastes so he would pay attention to you? How shameless!
When he flipped the audio on the cameras, he expected to hear snide remarks about Hyeung Mun-Hee or see you talking to someone on the phone about sabotaging the new project coming up soon so that you would take all the credit. Instead, you were…shopping on a furniture site?
“I don’t need another bookcase, or it’ll look too cluttered. I can’t get any more potted plants either. I’ve already done enough renovations here to make it cozy and relaxing. What about…a salt thingy? What’s it called?” You typed a few words in the search engine, [Eye Color] irises brightening in realization. “Oh right, Himalayan salt lamp! That’s not a terrible price for this one! And yarn. I need more yarn to complete that gift for Caretaker Lee’s birthday. Speaking of which, I could work on that tonight. Give my eyes a break from staring at screens all damned day.” You scooted over to the edge of the bed, pulling one drawer outward. You then reached inside, removing knitting needles, yarn and dark red clumps of something. You put on headphones and began to knit.  
You, the proud and arrogant Park Seo-yun, was knitting. 
You didn’t move from that spot at all, completely focused on your project when a knock came from the bedroom door. A fleeting, fearful look appeared on your face before you frantically shoved all of your materials back in the drawer, sputtering to wait one moment that you weren’t decent before putting on a bored expression, scrolling through your phone and reclining back like a lazy cat. You told them to come in, and an elderly woman in an apron walked in with a wooden tray filled with assorted foodstuff, carefully setting it down on one of the ottomans. 
“Thank you for preparing my midnight snack, Caretaker Lee. I’m sorry it’s been such an inconvenience while I’m reviewing these documents for tomorrow.” You said with a smile. Caretaker Lee shook her head, walking over to your bed. You scooted over so she wouldn’t fall over the edge (presumably, because this entire situation is bizarre to Yeo Jung-Hwa), and she sat down. She smiled down at you, stroking the top of your head.
“This humble one is honored to serve the Park family, especially the hard-working young miss. It cannot be easy, with the current circumstances. Young miss…please forgive me for speaking outright…but are you certain about going through with this engagement? It seems that you have never spent any time with him outside of working at his conglomerate, and any time he has is spent with someone else.”
Yeo Jung-Hwa expected you to hit her, to punish Caretaker Lee for speaking out of turn and to mind her own business. Instead, you stared at her for a long moment, wide-eyed and mouth  slightly parted…before your lips curled into a melancholy smile, eyes softening. 
“I thank you for your concern, Caretaker Lee. But this is an engagement between my father and the conglomerate’s predecessor. It’s not something that can be broken off so easily with benefits for both parties.” You said. “This is the price to be part of the elite. To sacrifice your happiness for the sake of business.” You then leaned forward, pulling Caretaker Lee into a hug. “It’ll be okay, really. I’m Park Seo-yun. I can take care of myself. And you should be in bed. You’ve got a long drive to see your grandchildren tomorrow morning. Enjoy the weekend, and I’ll see you on Monday.” 
“But-”
“I’ll bring the tray down the kitchen when I’m finished.”
“Miss-”
“Nope.” 
You then shooed her out of the room, telling Caretaker Lee to send your mother a text as soon as she got to her destination. The old woman smiled sheepishly, wishing you good night and asked you to not stay up too late. Once she was out of the room and the door was closed, you walked back to the bed, shoulders sagging and suddenly looking incredibly tired before you fell face first onto the blankets, legs dangling from the edge. You remained like that for a moment, then picked yourself up and curled up your lower body, grabbing one of the blankets and putting it over your legs. You retrieved your hidden supplies, resuming your knitting, taking five minute breaks in between to eat from the tray. Three more hours passed until you decided to call it a night, blowing out the candles and switching the fairy lights to a lower setting before disappearing into the bathroom. You came back out, grabbed the tray, and vanished. 
This isn’t real. It can’t be real. You are a haughty, greedy woman who could care less about commoners, much less servants. You love shopping at boutiques and only want the best of the best in anything. Even in an arranged marriage. He could never be happy with someone like you. 
But is all of that true? A nasty little voice in the back of Yeo Jung-Hwa’s mind hissed. Those were rumors created by other women who weren’t pleased that they weren’t good enough to marry you. Park Seo-yun is a stranger to you. You never bothered to know nor care to. Why would you when you have someone you love, Hyeung Mun-Hee?
He didn’t need to, and the fact that he wanted to know the truth about you of all people terrified him. He’s not supposed to care, not to be curious or even concerned about your well-being.  This was a strategic engagement, not one born out of mutual affection. He has a role to play in this world after all. 
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Three weeks had passed since he had the cameras installed, and all Yeo Jung-Hwa had discovered or even learned is that you were a completely different person in your home than at the office. 
You work Monday through Fridays, always on time and never staying late unless it was necessary. You returned to your family estate late on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursdays because there was a spinning class at the company gym after your shift on those days. Friday evenings were spent in either your room, holed up and completely focused on knitting or doing something else that helped relax you. If you were staying up late, the servants would provide a midnight snack for you. The portions increased on the days you were at the gym, alluding that you possessed an enormous appetite due to a high metabolism instead of being a glutton as Hyeung Mun-Hee has told him time and time again.  You talked to yourself when you were alone, or at least your thoughts before making a decision on something. When he remotely hacked into your laptop to see if he could find any evidence of foul play there, he saw your browsing history contained only decoration aesthetics ideas, healthier snacks to eat at night, local beginner yoga instructors, and shopping at small businesses on Crafty plus one or two high-end boutiques for business casual outfits. Nothing incriminating on any level whatsoever. But he was not going to let you off of the hook that easily. 
At work he ignored you entirely, focusing his attention on Hyeung Mun-Hee and blocked your calls so that he didn’t have to talk to you outside of business hours. There was not a single text message or voicemail from you on his cellphone when he unblocked your number yesterday morning after coming into the office. Understandably frustrated and cranky from a lack of proper sleep, he decided to change the deadline for the quarterly income statements and the inspections of the company’s financial software, including reinforcing the firewalls and ensuring there was no fraudulent activity in the company’s transactions to Monday morning. 
With this amount of work, he was absolutely certain that it would be your slip-up. That you’d push your assigned tasks to Hyeung Mun-Hee so you could keep working on your knitting projects. Today is Saturday, and you left your house at seven o’clock to go to the office. You stayed awake until midnight typing away on your company laptop, looking over spreadsheets while talking to the head of IT on speaker, arranging a test run on the firewalls on Sunday evening. 
Instead of helping the team prepare for everything to be finished at the beginning of the week, Hyeung Mun-Hee was sitting across from him inside a coffee shop, beaming and utterly happy that they were finally out on a date after not being on one for so long, she was getting worried about him. Well…perhaps. Yeo Jung-Hwa glanced down at the shopping bags by their feet. They had gone to trendy high end streets and luxury department stores earlier this morning, with Hyeung Mun-Hee desiring…no, more like insisting that she had at least eight new work outfits so that she would represent his company properly as a team member of the Finance Department. 
If that’s true, then why are you here using my black card to shop instead of working at the office? He thought behind a smile as his supposed lover’s words went from one ear and out the other. If you were here with him, he’d probably have been more accepting of indulging in your vices and insisting on paying for everything instead of you, even when you were just as wealthy as he is. 
“I’m sure that you will find out why Park Seo-yun is acting so suspiciously!” Hyeung Mun-Hee said in a hushed voice. “I can’t believe you are even associated with such a vile person. She can’t get away with talking down to others like that! She may be rich, but she doesn’t know how to truly appreciate what she has right now!” She giggled. “It’s funny, isn’t it? She has everything, but she still clings to your engagement like a sad puppy! If she truly loves you, then she should have convinced her father to call everything off so that you can be happy. But the rich think differently I guess, right?” 
His smile tightened. “Perhaps.” He said, languidly sipping the java chip mocha frappuccino that she bought for him even though he preferred to have his coffee black with no sugar and he’s told her this little tidbit many times. “She is extravagant, but you also have luxurious taste, Hyeung Mun-Hee.” 
He watched her eyes widen in surprise and embarrassment, sputtering for a moment before she asked. “W-What are you saying, Yeo Jung-Hwa? You know me! If I had been given a choice to meet up, I would have chosen the downtown area so you could try the street vendors I’ve been talking about!”
And risk my health by getting food poison from reused cooking oil, poorly washed utensils, and ingesting noodles that are too greasy or salty? Absolutely not. He thought with slight irritation. 
“Maybe, but we both know that we must be discreet in our interactions, as I’ve told you before.That’s why I suggested we come here, but instead of sampling delicious foods at the restaurants I recommended, you wanted to come here instead after shopping.  If I remember correctly, your department is supposed to be presenting a big project on Monday. Why are you here, shopping to your hearts’ content instead of being at the office and helping out the team?”
“W-Why should I be there?” Hyeung Mun-Hee countered, bolting up from her seat as she stared at him in shock. “If I go there, Park Seo-yun will harass me! I can’t work in an environment like that! I did those seminars she  told me to do and passed the tests! Can’t I enjoy a day off?!” Fat tears began to build up behind her hazel eyes. “I’ve been working hard enough!”
But you are the one who is putting in the overtime needed to finish the job. You are leading the team to do what needs to be done. Hyeung Mun-Hee is just enjoying the perks of being by his side. Have you eaten lunch yet? Perhaps he can stop by somewhere that allows take-out and bring some to your office under the excuse that he needs to get some work done as well.  Dinner too, perhaps? 
“ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME, YEO JUNG-HWA?!”
He glared at her. “Sit down, Hyeung Mun-Hee.” He hissed, displeased that her shrill voice had attracted unwanted attention from customers who were either sitting at tables or waiting on orders to finish up at the pick-up area. “Finish your drink, and take a taxi back to the city, to your home.”
“It’s still early in the day, we haven’t been out in a while!”
“And I’m tired from the shopping. I don’t need to see what you bought because I already have seen them all at the shops.” He replied tersely. “I need to stop by the office and take care of a few things at the office before I need to go home.” 
Hyeung Mun-Hee’s face is a dark shade of purple. Consumed by anger, her mouth hung open, on the brink of another explosive tantrum, as the coffee shop door swung open, exposing its next patron. You.  
You stepped up to the pick-up area, looking at the various drinks with a pensive expression before waving down a barista. “Excuse me.” You said. “I’m here to pick up a mobile order for several drinks under Park. When will they be ready? I need to hurry back to the office with caffeine for my employees or things are going to get ugly.” The  handbag hung from your wrist as you fished out your phone, presumably showing the online order to the young man. He looked at you before smiling at you. 
“We’ll have it done in just a moment, ma’am.”
Is it wrong for Yeo Jung-Hwa to desire the bright smile you gave to that insignificant commoner when you did not know he was here with Hyeung Mun-Hee?
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Congratulations, Congratulations, Congratulations! 
Important things must be said three times.
The viewership score for Episode 52 has arrived!
Taglist: @cerisearan @julietdelamare @ghostdoodlen @mochinon-yah @queenofspades403 @alittletiredcry @burningaestheticsimp @proper-fox @neutralrobot @reallysparklychaos @tired-of-life-86 @nunezs-stuff @yandere-dark-cupid @imperfectbloodmoon @cassanderasblog @faux-ecrivain @abelheilonwife @ixchelhernandez4 @diannaflight @sweetbatherodonkey @strangepoppy @persephone-kore-law @swallowtail-lotus @tonightwrites @majestichugs @pinkynecktie
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wonderlandwalker · 4 months
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He Knows Better | Finnick Odair x Reader
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THG Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox
Summary: Finnick tells himself not to get close to you, because what is the point? But when you survive your games he finds that he can't stop thinking about you. When he finally comes to see you, you're in pieces, and he swears to himself he will put you back together, no matter the costs. Find part 2 here: Should've Known
Content Warnings/Tags: Mentions of prostitution/sex trafficking, angst, Finnick deserving better, crying, bad representation of a panic attack, not proofread
Word Count: 1.6k
Requested by Anon: I loveeeee love love love your Finnick fic. It was the perfect mix of sweet and so angstyyyyy !! I'm having constant Finnick brainrot 😭 I was wondering what you think about writing a finnick × reader fic sort of loosely based on Hozier's "It Will Come Back" where reader is maybe a tribute or another Victor and the first person to show Finnick softness and kindness without asking for anything in return in so long and he's like "dont let me in with no intention to keep me" and "dont be kind to me" and he just is totally feral and obsessed with the reader ? You're such a talented writer !! ❤️❤️❤️
A/N: There is this Dutch expression which goes ‘the monkey comes out of the sleeve’ loosely meaning the hidden meaning is revealed and I couldn't for the life of me think of the English equivalent that made sense to me, so, well, I hope the story is coherent. As usual, divider by @saradika
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He remembers first seeing you, you were so young, but to be fair, so was he. In previous years he had always become quick friends with the tributes he was supposed to mentor, how could he not? But it didn't take him long to figure out that they never made it back, and while the company was nice for a while, the hurt in the end wasn't worth it anymore. There's something about you that he can't quite place, but it doesn't matter, because he's not going to get attached. When you first stepped into the training hall you didn't look scared, you didn't even look excited, no, you looked like you had made peace. 
He didn't get to talk to you much, you spend most of your training with Mags, not learning how to fight, but learning how to survive. And every time he watched you, he watched how your eyes lit up when learned how to filter water, he watched how proud Mags was of you each time. And he felt something tugging at him, he felt a need to get to know you. But he knew better.
Because what were the odds, he had seen this before, he had done this before. No, he shouldn't get attached to you. And yet, for the first time after returning from his own, he found himself watching the games. Watching the tributes become fewer and fewer, hoping, praying, that you'd make it through. The fewer left the more desperate he became. You've gotten this far, don't let the luck run out just yet. He saw how your last opponent fell, and he saw your face in the centre of the screen, of virtually every screen. And once again, you didn't look excited, you looked like you had found peace again, and maybe, just maybe, he let himself believe he could too, that you could show him. 
He didn’t go see you after, it wouldn't be of any use. What more did he have to offer you, you did not need a mentor anymore. He had made peace, he had made peace with never seeing you again. So what was the difference if you were alive or not? That's what he thought, if he gave in now, he didn't think he'd ever be able to let go, it would keep coming back. 
It wasn't until a few months later when someone knocked on his door, and in a sleepy haze, he opened it without thinking. He had spent the night at the capitol, and he never managed to get much rest after. Usually, when he had been gone for the night, Mags would come to check in on him, and have Valerian tea with him. He doubted it actually worked, but the effort was enough to brighten his day. So he opened the door, but it wasn't Mags, it was you. Your face was fuller, it had more colour, but the bags under your eyes were still there. Would Mags bring you Valerian tea as well? No, no he needed to stop thinking about you. The last time he had actually seen you was when you won. He had forced himself to avoid you ever since, he hadn't been completely sure why anymore, but now he knew again. The way you looked at him gave him hope, hope he couldn't afford. “What do you want” he asked, he sounded upset, and in a way he was, but the way the sparkle in your eyes dimmed made him regret it. 
And so he opened the door further, stepping aside, and you didn't need more of an invitation before you walked in. You took a seat at his small kitchen table, and he decided it would be impolite not to join you, so he sat down as well. He was about to talk, but you beat him to the punch.
“Snow came to see me.” There is was he thought, the reason, everyone always had a reason. Still, he found himself allowing you to continue, wanting to hear your voice again, even if it brought bad news. 
“I talked to Mags about it, but she said I should come see you, so here I am.” You chuckled, but the situation was not something that asked for it, must be nerves, he thought, but why were you nervous, surely he didn't make you nervous. 
“Look, I don’t want to bother you with my problems Finnick, I know you're dealing with enough yourself, but I don’t know what else to do.” Your eyes glossed over, and you looked like you were about to start crying, but you didn't. He wanted to say something, to comfort you, but what was there to say? And so you two sat in silence, he was looking at you, he was memorizing your face. This was the last time he would let himself see you. He didn't want to get close to you, and with how mesmerizing you were to him, he knew better.
And yet, as days passed, he found himself thinking of you. Whenever he needed comfort, he thought of you, the way you smiled at him when he told you a nervous joke. He could get lost in the memory of your eyes, and more often than not, he did. Every day he spent without seeing you made his heart hurt. 
Without thinking, he found himself walking to your door. It was like he wasn't in control of his own feet. He was in constant agony with himself. He wanted to be with you, but your kindness was one he couldn't afford, because it had the power to break him. He knocked on your door, not even aware he was doing so until he heard the sound echo back to him. He heard rustling, but he didn't hear you approaching the door, so he knocked again, and for good measure, he decided to call out. “Y/n? It’s me, it’s Finnick”. He heard someone approach the door at that, and a little bit of hope sparked inside him that you wanted to see him as much as he wanted to see you, but he knew better. 
The door opened, but it wasn't you that he came face to face with, it was Mags. She was standing in your hallway with a sad smile on her face, and she didn't say anything, but she looked to the stairs on the right end corner. He didn't need any more encouragement, and he sped up them, taking two steps at a time. He knocked on the door he was in front of, but there wasn't an answer. But when he listened more closely, he could hear crying coming from the other side. You were crying. His mind was reeling with possibilities, but whatever it was that had caused this, he swore to himself he would fix it, even if it broke him. 
And so he entered the room, opening the door softly so as not to startle you, but it didn't matter. He saw you in the corner, you had pulled your knees to your chest and he couldn't see your face from where you had hidden it, but his heart broke over it nonetheless. He walked towards you, testing the waters, testing his luck. He was scared for you, but mostly, he was scared you wouldn't want to see him. When you heard him, your head shot up to look at him. The way in which your eyes were bloodshot and swollen made him want to punch a hole in the wall next to you. The way your voice cracked when you said his name made him want to curl up right next to you. he got closer to you, kneeling down in front of you. Allowing you to take the next steps on your own time.
After a few minutes, you had slightly calmed down while he was tracing patterns on your knee with his thumb. You spoke to him, but you didn't look him in his eyes.
“They’re bidding on me Finnick, they’re bidding on me like I’m something to possess”
The feeling of dread that came over him was something he had never felt before. He thought he had gone through all someone could. He thought there was nothing that could hurt him anymore in a way he didn't already, but he had been wrong. 
He was willing to do anything for you to be spared from this, but he knew it wasn't any use. 
He knew better. And so he did all he could, taking you in his arms and whispering reassuring words, until your crying and your shaking stopped, and you seemed at peace again. 
He had tried himself to get away from what snow had wanted, what the capitol had wanted, he tried everything he could think of, but he couldn't get away from it. He had made peace with the fact that people always wanted something from him, and maybe that's why he couldn't get you out of his head, because you were the only person that was at peace with him, without anything more, just him. So he told you the only thing he could. He told you he’d be there for you, that you’d get through it together. He wasn't sure if he believed it, but he knew it was what you needed to hear, it was what he had needed to hear, except there had been no one to tell him. He would spend the rest of his life wondering if you needed him.
But he won't shut you out again, he knows better.
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Part 2: Should've Known
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shibaraki · 7 months
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PAS DE DEUX ┊ GOJO SATORU
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tags: GN reader, no curse au (ballet), principal dancer gojo, reader is a photographer for his ballet company, fluff, flirting + casual touch, barre exercising, getting together, first kisses
wc: 2.4K
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Gojo Satoru is just a man.
Albeit a coveted man, able to do anything on stage exactly as he would in rehearsal. High arabesques and tight pirouettes. Otherworldly form. Broad hands able to memorise another’s centre of gravity within the first twenty seconds. Swan-like and slender. All agile limbs, a body brazen with self-assurance and packed with strength, reflected in how effortlessly he can catch, spin, and dip his partners. Low, on perfect pointe.
A beautiful, talented, annoying man. That which has chosen to breathe down your neck as you fiddle with your camera, rather than occupy any other corner of the large studio.
“You’re distracting me, Satoru”.
“How am I distracting?” he asked, inclining his head. You gave him a look, and emphatically motioned at him from head to toe. Satoru cracks a grin, those piercing blue eyes gleaming, “By existing?”
“No, because you're all up in my space. I’ll show you the pictures in a second so back up,” you snap, your hand fluttering dismissively at him. “And put a shirt on!”
A low, vibrating hum, and a smile that holds a sincere gentleness to it that you wouldn’t have expected to find. He looks almost boyish. You turn from it and feel his presence move away like the sun being blocked out, steady warmth then the absence of it.
He does not put his shirt on. Instead Satoru takes position at the barre and walks his fingers along the top. Dawn filtered in through the small windows, casting a spotlight onto every dip and curve. You resolutely do not look at that narrow waist, nor how closely his tights clung to his hips, his thighs. Pulled over his soft soled slippers are a pair of grey stirrup leg warmers, bunched around his calves. He’s—
You draw a sharp inhale and refocus on the LCD screen, the neckstrap suddenly uncomfortably heavy.
Satoru is a bit older than most of the other dancers you photograph but no more mature for it. Granted he’s gentler in his discipline, more experienced, and always less eager for the practice to be over. He liked the day to drag on and on, especially if someone was watching him.
People said he was arrogant. Maybe that was a little true and with good reason. But your lense saw through the veneer that Satoru wore. Session after session, through rehearsals and classes and auditions, you saw pride for his craft, and how deeply he loved imbuing that love into his juniors.
You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of saying so, but watching him dance felt transcendent. Whoever the pair, he made every pas de deux seem seamless, like two halves of the same entity coming together. Solo he was in a league of his own. Sometimes he danced as if he loved beyond the scope of his skin. Sometimes he danced as if the whole world had betrayed him.
“How’d I do this time?” you hear him ask in that very cavalier way that betrayed his interest immediately, becoming antsy in your prolonged silence. “Pretty good, right?”
Today you managed to shoot him demonstrating a particularly heartbreaking variation of a grand jeté. He reached the peak and fell so gracefully that you’d felt the whole room hold its breath. Another beep and the camera screen flickers to that very photo. Right leg stretched anterior, his left posterior to his body, evenly split into a horizon as he soared through the air. Rather than poise to mimic an elegant wingspan he had curved an arm into an arc over his face, almost as if in anguish, while the other draped behind him.
“Why ask if you already know?” you deflected, switching to the next photograph. “You definitely have a flair for the dramatic”.
“Maybe I want to hear it from your mouth,” you can hear the layered petulance behind his words. It makes you restless to think your praise could hold any significance to him. “Tense today, aren’t we? You should do some barre exercises with me. Loosen you up a little,” he continues, clicking his tongue. “I could even teach you some steps”.
You snort lightly, “That’s a ridiculous idea”.
“I don’t think so,” Satoru disagrees, a contemplative tone to his voice. Intensity returns to his gaze as it roams over your form. “You’re the only person in the company I haven’t danced with yet. Can you blame me?”
“It wouldn’t be dancing, Satoru. You know I can’t dance,” you insist, or so you think, the weak response barely audible over the heartbeat flooding your ears. “I’d look like a fucked up marionette”.
A hand crosses your line of sight. You hadn’t even noticed his approach. Satoru plucks the camera from your slackened grasp and slips the neckstrap over your head in one swift movement. “Then let me pull your strings,” he teases, proffering his open palm. Your throat grows dry.
“That was awful,” you tell him, clutching to whatever dignity you have left. Then you take it. Long fingers enclose over your knuckles and he smiles.
Sometimes when you want something you’ll take it in whatever manner the universe is willing to give it.
“Ha. Worked though”.
As mercy would have it, Satoru guides you as he would a beginner. You’ve lived and worked amongst dancers for years. Your mind is familiar with the lifestyle, the lingo and the routine, but your muscles are not. “Another rep. Heels together with your toes turned out—that’s it, bend slightly,” your pulse rockets at the light touch to your hip, firm yet gentle in encouraging you to bend. The room is much hotter than you recall. “Place one foot in front of you. Point. Now sweep it around to the back in a C-shape,” warmth lingers where his fingertips had been as he steps back. “Point your feet,” he says, his lips suddenly close to your ear.
“What—?”
“As you circle,” Satoru repeats. “Point your feet.” You exhale and repeat. “Hm. Good at taking instructions, aren’t you?”
“I’m going to kill you,” comes your shaky response, already feeling clammy. It doesn’t escape you that he still hasn’t put a shirt on. Your inner thigh muscles are burning. Satoru laughs and the irritation ebbs away because he sounds happy. Giddy, even.
“This one will open your hips nicely,” Satoru finds your waist again and pivots you to face the barre. His body heat seeps through your t-shirt where he’s pressed against your back. Hands slide beneath your arms and down to your wrists, delicately placing them atop the barre. “Keep taking deep breaths for me. Bend your knees—hold,” the ache forces your eyes shut for the five seconds he keeps you inert, plunged into fleeting darkness with just his low, honeyed voice to guide you.
This really was a terrible idea.
“Rise to plié,” Satoru murmurs. “Up into demi-pointe. There you are, now hold again”.
Shadows pool into the studio space as the evening draws on. You’re rendered a sticky mess, and not in the manner you’d have liked. Wondrously, and despite the soreness that will no doubt wear in tomorrow, you had begun to feel you were working with your body and not against it.
Satoru had barely broken a sweat. You take comfort in the splotchy flush covering his cheeks and how his chest rises and falls, both signs of exertion. Equally as distracting. “You’re almost a natural,” he says, running a hand through his silky white hair.
Unsteady on your feet, you roll your eyes skyward while the burning in your lungs dwindles. “Sure. We’ll be onto our own pas de deux in no time,” you joke offhandedly. But Satoru’s expression wanes into something like longing in your periphery. Fondness, and then to amusement.
“Maybe not. Your pointe needs work,” he says.
“Well excuse me, big shot. I’m not even wearing the right shoes—”
“Want to try some lifts?”
A stone of dread drops into your stomach. The barre digs into your lower back as you lean against the wall, “We do some—some routine warmups and you think I’m ready for partnered lifts?!”
Satoru’s voice remains steady but his lips are starting to purse as he mirrors your posture, “I can take your weight”.
You didn’t doubt it. Satoru’s ability appeared to defy physics all together and that translated well with his counterparts too, whoever they may be. You’ve seen him lift people of every different shape and weight. Each one would become weightless in his embrace.
“No. No lifts,” you tell him, trying for a cadence that inspired authority. Satoru arched his brow and you got the sense that to him you were akin to a small disgruntled cat. Whether it’s the fatigue that lowers your inhibitions or plain pettiness, you hear yourself say, “I think you just want an excuse to touch me more”.
A pulse of magnetised desire rippled through the atmosphere. You don’t miss the way his breathing hitched, or how the hand absently rubbing the back of his neck stilled only for a moment before falling to his hip. Satoru swallows. Your eyes follow how his thumb strums the waistband of his tights—tights that leave very little to the imagination.
Anticipation prickles through your belly when he takes a step forward, then another, until his nose bumps your own. “You’re not supposed to say the quiet part out loud,” he murmurs, a little breathless. It ghosts across your lips. There’s trepidation in his gaze, searching your expression for rejection or discomfort, neither of which he will find.
You are reminded again that for all his apparent confidence and talent, Gojo Satoru was still very much human.
Your hands lingered in the narrow space between your bodies. Restlessly clenching, uncurling. Not knowing where to put them. The bare skin of his abdomen brushes your knuckles. “Satoru,” you begin.
He hums, palms coming to rest on your hips. He leans into you, emboldened by the invocation of his name, and echoes yours back.
“Did you seriously…” your thoughts drift as he dips lower, lingering. The blood rushes to your head. You could easily tip your head, align your mouths, and bring him into a kiss. Somehow the simplicity of that makes this whole charade even more laughable. “Don’t tell me you made me do a workout instead of just asking me on a date like a normal person”.
The response registers visibly on his face. He blinks, delicate pale lashes fanning over his cheeks, and in the next breath he’s lighting up, eyes first, glittering urainian blue. “That was hardly a workout,” he says, warmth bleeding into his voice. “It was a warmup”.
“Warmup my ass”.
“Can, if you want”.
Laughing, you cradle his jaw and say, “Stop being annoying and kiss me”.
Satoru’s hands have slipped beneath your shirt. He squeezes, smiles at the feel of soft flesh yielding under his thumbs, “Alright”.
Always has to have the last word, you think amusedly. Satoru pressed impossibly close. The barre has since become numb where it prods at your back. Your lips part as he tilts and your mouths brush, want knotted deep in your belly. It is slow at first, hesitant. But every movement of Satoru’s lips turns into sweet affirmation. Quick, then long, then greedy.
You wrap your arms around his neck and feel him shudder as you suck gently at his plush bottom lip. He paws at you with more fervour, languidly licking into your mouth. Soft wet sounds reach your ears and a contented hum reverberates through your skin that you can’t help returning. You feel his lips stretch thin into a smirk.
When you eventually part for breath your chest is pounding. He watches you closely. Half lidded and entirely too pleased. Something about the certainty and satisfaction stunned you then. Coloured the world around you in roseate. “You really do like me, don’t you?”
Satoru doesn’t falter. Quiet and deeply amused, he replies, “What gave it away? The constant pestering, the always staying behind after hours, the never wearing a shirt, the—?”
“Okay, okay. I get it,” you sighed, smoothing your palms down his bare chest simply because you can. “…I like you too, you know”.
“Yeah?”
You hummed. “What gave it away? The constant pestering?” you kissing the corner of his mouth, “The always staying after hours?” and then his cheek.
Satoru turns quickly to chase as you recline, nipping at your mouth. “Point taken,” he rumbles, pinching at the fabric of your shirt and lightly tugging it. “Pattern dictates this should go, next”.
“You know we need to lock up. If I let you start we’ll never stop,” you laughed, wriggling out from his embrace. The studio will be shrouded in complete darkness soon, and now you both need to shower. Satoru reluctantly lets you go, trailing after you as you collect your camera and pass it between your hands.
The screen flickers on, back to that incredible grand jeté. Satoru hooks his chin over your shoulder. “You really do photograph beautifully,” you think aloud. His jaw shifts and you can tell he’s smiling. “What were you thinking about, when you jumped?”
Satoru sniffed, not even pretending to think of something profound. “Mochi stuffed with whipped cream and zunda”.
You sigh fondly, eyes falling closed. Beautiful, talented, annoying man indeed.
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ೃ⁀➷ look at me! look at me!
↳ ❝ ¡love and deepspace idol! au headcanons! ❞
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·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙
linkon city, the hotspot for new and upcoming talent. the city is restless, many calling it “the city of dreams”. ambition and passion are what fuel the city, it’s vibrant culture making it alluring to many. you and your best friend tara are debuting in the most anticipated girl group of your generation, hunt:ress. with your manager caleb and your groupmates by your side, this journey should be smooth sailing…
right?
fans tend to pit boy groups and girl groups against each other— it did not take long before your group hunt:ress was dragged into that mess. specifically with a particular boy group— after a clip of the recently debuted group brushing past yours without a second glance at an award show went viral, the boy group eVOL was never far when hunt:ress was mentioned. hell even variety and award shows were humoring the spectacle by having the two groups up to announce awards or interviews. that’s where you met the group’s maknae, xavier.
when i tell you— y’all looked at each other like ONCE and the masses were making edits, making blogs and analysis videos, writing fanfiction, whole nine yards
but of course with the people who thought y’all were cute (despite never actually having a conversation with one another) came his fans who gave you unnecessary hate, they’re ruthless
with the way your group was pitted against eVOL, other fans just thought y’all had beef (think the alleged jeongyeon v. jimin beef type of level LMAOOOOO)
no but seriously eVOL fans conspired with hunt:ress fans about you and xavier being together so much that caleb had to give the company your phone to search through just to make sure
rumors get so bad that they put you on house arrest shortly after some rabid xavier biases run you out of a cafe (it made the news)
eVOL’s company reaches out to yours with a half hearted apology, however they won’t won’t release a public statement because “that would only feed into it” and hope that the situation blows over
unbeknownst to both companies— xavier finds a way to reach out to you through your old phone (that you hide because you didn’t want to give up your old life just to become an idol) and apologizes for his fans behavior
the two of you actually start to talk since you’re not exactly allowed to go out the dorms save for group outings and music/award shows, he’s been the first person you’ve been able to actually talk to, it was refreshing
you find out despite his baby face— he is not the maknae and is actually the oldest member but his company’s trying to keep that public perception of him (yeah they’re weeeeeird)
you start to confide in each other and talk about idol life but also just random things, he’s a comforting presence in a world where everyone’s eyes were on you
you sometimes text him all night coming to practice absolutely exhausted, tara’s the first one to suspect something is going on
tara actually runs one of y’all’s ship pages LMAOOOOO
when your group wins an award for best new music, he’s the first person who congratulates you (the footage is clipped and before the end of the night it’s viral)
one of the reasons why hunt:ress was so well received was because of their visuals. the girls were pretty, sure— but whoever their stylist was? they were working overtime. there is not a single ‘flop outfit’ compilation or blog about any of you girls. one of your group’s performance outfit goes viral however everyone can’t stop talking about how it captured your aura and stage presence perfectly, it went viral catching everyone’s attention— including someone interesting. your company had ties to a famous designer who rarely showed his face, seemed like he’d just design clothes and have them modeled and call it a day, did not bother to even go to fashion showcases where his work would be the main event. but then he saw a clip of you in his work go viral— he had to see it for himself. that’s when you met rafayel.
when you heard that the designer of all your performance outfits wanted to meet you specifically you were nervous, after all this had to be some respectable man
let’s just say you were a bit confused when you showed up to his studio that looked like a tornado had ran through it— everything was strewn around
in its wake? an attractive young man who was probably the last person you’d think would be the person responsible for your group’s outfits
he’s an audacious man, skipping all pleasantries to immediately ask about your measurements
he asks for your chest size first and you resist the urge to chuck a nearby thread spool at him
you start to interrogate him, there’s no way that he’s the decorated designer that’s well respected in the industry… right?
but despite his demeanor, you can’t argue with his skill when he pulls out a dress that immediately catches your eye— you’re itching to try it on
he snickers at your wide eyes and tells you to change into it (he makes a joke about how he wouldn’t mind dressing you himself and you give him the craziest look)
once you’re all dressed up you step away from the changing room, doing a little twirl as you showed off his work
he was in awe, videography did you no justice compared the real deal— he shamelessly asks you to drop your idol career to be his model, his muse
and just when you thought you couldn’t give this man any more crazy looks
you really couldn’t deny it though, it was almost as if his work was made for you— the dress complimented you deeply
but alas you had worked extremely hard to get to where you were now, no amounts of flattery would coax you out of it
no matter to him, he wasn’t one to give up so easily. in a sea of fish, you were quite the catch
eventually he convinces your company to “lend” you to him as his model— the company agrees because not only is the versatility of idols really important but also free promo lolz
he now starts to attend these fashion shows so he can bask in your presence showing off his work, people whisper about the man who manages to get the best seat every time wondering who he is
at the end of every show he’s waiting for you with a bouquet of flowers, you always accept them joking about how it was just another failed attempt at him trying to get you to be his permanent model
little did you know that that wasn’t the only thing he was gunning for
whenever the question “who’s the most hardworking?” would arise in group interviews, without a doubt your fellow members would answer your name. your trainee days were rough, strict diets, endless hours of practice, appointments with vocal coaches, promo— you took it all in stride with no complaints. nowadays as a debuted idol in a well performing group, you still couldn’t help but watch what you ate, practice until your muscle ached, finding every opportunity to better yourself. tara often tried to reassure you that you already were good enough and that it was alright to be gracious and lenient towards yourself. you appreciated her words but you were fine, it wasn’t nearly as bad as being a trainee. that mindset eventually landed you in trouble causing you to collapse at a pre rehearsal for a music show. fortunately with no footage, rumors of your company potentially mistreating you only had the questioned credibility from word of mouth. eventually coming to with an iv connected to your arm and caleb scolding you for never taking breaks, your company insists that your group does the next few music shows without you so you can rest. before you can protest, a doctor that’s introduced to be your primary care walks in. that’s when you’re reunited with zayne.
you’re still a bit groggy but you recognize those pensive green eyes anywhere
he tries to not cross the line of a patient doctor relationship but the minute caleb leaves he gives you an exasperated look
he makes a quip that despite all these years later you still are inadequate in taking care of yourself
you grew up in the same small town as him and went to school together, of course he left for medical school while you perused your dream— who knew that you’d reunite in the big city
despite being in for mild dehydration and being treated for it with the iv, he insists on doing a full exam which gets you nervous and rightfully so, he’s very thorough
and lo and behold— he unravels your secret that you’ve kept from your company, your chronic illness
when auditioning and being signed on as a trainee the medical records you had submitted were from a shoddy doctor who never ran any tests
you beg him not to rat you out, after all you had made it this far with not a single person suspecting a thing
he’s very adamant about letting your company know, he tries to reassure you that the more room for accommodation for you the better but you cut him off pleading
he didn’t know how ruthless the industry was— you’ve seen plenty of popular groups put members in indefinite and unfair hiatuses for something beyond their control, if it wasn’t your company than the general public would know you as the sickly idol
you had worked too hard for it to come crashing down like this and his cold eyes softened in realization
he let out a sigh before begrudgingly agreeing to keep your secret, reminding you that you had been lucky that he was employed by the hospital rather than your company who by under contract he’d have to tell
he also makes a condition, you would have to start taking care of yourself more— if you ever landed in a hospital bed with another iv in he wouldn’t hesitate to let your company know of your state
you thank him profusely, you had worked far too hard for this. he knows because this had been your dream since you were children
you offer him to lunch in the upcoming weeks as a means to catch up, he only agrees under the guise that he can keep an eye on your condition while making sure you actually eat
❀° ┄───╮
a/n: wowza that was a lot 😵‍💫
y’all i love this game so much it’s not even funny— zayne my beloved pookie bear oml
i hope y’all enjoyed this fr, maybe i’ll write something(s) inspired by this au and hopefully expand on some of the headcanons ‼️
if y’all get some inspiration off of this pls tag me i wanna read yalls work so badlyyyy okay bye guys mwahhhh 🫶🏾
╰───┄ °❀
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haykawas · 7 months
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✩•̩̩͙*˚ TUESDAY – GETO SUGURU.
summary : you have five days to ask your hot tattooed boss out. better make it count.
word count : 3.6K. tags : tattoo shop owner!suguru, modern au, pining, workplace AU, fem!reader, very domestic, fluff (?), satoru being annoying.
MONDAY – TUESDAY
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It was still very early in the morning. Just a few cars were driving by, and most of the curtains were still drawn. The only sounds you could hear came from the soft pitter-patter of the rain crashing against the pavement.
You wiped a droplet that had caught on your eyelash, inhaling the fresh air of October.
You loved fall.
Vivid colors were beginning to paint the trees and foliage everywhere, and people had already started decorating their houses for Halloween, setting the mood for the whole city. Another advantage was that almost every morning, you got to warm your cold hands around some hot cocoa.
You grinned as you took a sip of your drink, the warm beverage burning your throat, and you let out a pleased hum of satisfaction at the feeling. Your umbrella shielded you from the rain almost entirely, even though a few drops still managed to reach you. But you didn’t mind that, at all. In fact, it soothed you. So much, that you could feel your eyelids becoming heavy.
You shook your head to wake up from your daze. Today, you actually had some work waiting for you at the shop, and you couldn’t afford to fall behind it, or become distracted. At all. Be it by the soothing sounds of the rain, or by your stupidly handsome boss and coworker.
You pushed the door of the shop open, shaking your umbrella before putting it down to dry. You expected to find the parlor still dark and quiet, but you were surprised by the sight when your eyes caught onto Satoru.
Satoru. Here. Before you.
You had to be dreaming.
It wasn’t that Satoru was a heavy sleeper, no. In fact, he was actually often – always? – up very early, but he absolutely never arrived before you did. Despite being an early riser, he almost came to work late every morning for some reason, and you simply blamed the fact he’d always been peculiar as far as you’d known him. That or maybe he’d gotten involved into some shady operations, but again, it was none of your business.
It must’ve helped that he was the most talented tattoo artist you’d ever met – the best of his generation, you’d often heard people say. And Suguru’s best friend, too. 
As you approached him, you couldn’t suppress the smirk that crept onto your lips, “Gojo Satoru, here already? Thought I was seeing a ghost. Did you get lost on your way to your secret underground lair?”
Satoru laughed, wiggling his brows at you, “You wish I’d tell you, uh?” You couldn’t help but snort.
“Yeah, right, just wanted to know what you were up to. You think because you’re friends with the boss you get to slack off, loser?”
Satoru feigned indignation, one hand hovering over his heart, “I’ll have you know I’m a very busy man!”
“And to what do I owe the please of your company then, Mister busy man?” You said, trying to keep yourself from laughing at his face.
“Does there always have to be a reason?” He lifted a brow, hands on his hips.
“So?”
“Suguru asked me.” He grumbled as your smile grew even bigger. “But I won’t be around all day, just came in earlier to get more work done.”
“Oh?” Your eyes found his, curious, “Any reason why?”
“He needs some help with personal stuff, I think? So I’m dropping by. And since he won’t be coming in to work today, I volunteered to take in his shift. Aren’t I just perfect?”
“He didn’t give you a choice, did he?”
“Nope!”  Your friend exclaimed, and you watched him walk away to prepare the shop for opening.
However, your smile quickly faded and you found yourself lost in thought. Was there a particular reason why Suguru wouldn’t show up at work today? You observed your friend for a moment, a faint smile on your lips as you saw him struggling to set up all the work equipment for the day, wondering if you would even dare ask him about his best friend’s whereabouts.
Of course, such a question wouldn’t have been abnormal at all if you’d asked literally anyone else. But this was Satoru. The same Satoru that had always teased you relentlessly about your love life since you’d met in college. The very same Satoru who’d caught you, not so long ago, daydreaming while intently looking at his best friend. You remembered it like it was yesterday, the knowing smile he’d made when your eyes had met after you had averted your gaze from Suguru.
And since then, it’d been hell. He just wouldn’t let it go. While he hadn’t addressed the matter directly with you, he’d been dropping constant hints, which you’d vehemently denied.
But this had been your mistake, denying it. Because even if carefree, Satoru was far from stupid, and he must have realized that you’d never gone to such lengths to deny a supposed crush before.
And yet, he’d teased you more than once, and not only with your former college aquaintances, but also with Choso, your coworker – the same Choso you’d always considered like your own brother, the mere thought of the two of you together making you uneasy.
He must have felt your persistent glare on him, because Satoru stopped what he’d been doing and turned to you, hands on his hips.
“Spit it out, I know you’ve been dying to ask.” He said, breaking the silence.
Your eyes widened, and you felt your cheeks burn. Why did he have to be so observant? You sighed, breaking eye contact, unable to withstand his piercing blue gaze. He knew you far too well now, so much that it had become dangerous.
“You know, secrets have a way of gnawing at you and you’ve never been good at hiding things from me! So,” He dragged out, slowly approaching you, “what’s up?”
You rolled your eyes, “You’re making a big deal out of nothing, again. Just thinking about Suguru, he usually, like, never misses a day.” You immediately cursed at yourself for saying it that way, and admitting you were literally thinking about your boss, his best friend.
“Ohhh, so that’s what it was about?” He replied, his eyes twinkling with mischief, but he made absolutely no comment. Well, that was new. And concerning.
He shrugged, “He didn’t tell me much.”
“But if you’re that curious, I’m heading to his place right after my shift. Sooo,” He dragged out, feigning nonchalance, but side-eyeing you at the same time. “You could tag along.”
You blinked at the proposal. You? At Suguru’s house, uninvited? When you could be home relaxing instead of freaking out for intruding on his private space? Yeah, sure, like you would agree. However, before you could voice your refusal, Satoru beat you to it.
“He could use your help.”
Oh. Oh, that fucker knew how to play his cards just right.
“Fine, I’ll go.” And before Satoru could jump on you to choke you with one of his infamous bear hugs – they were more like headlocks, really –, you lifted a finger to add one condition, “But only if I don’t fall behind on my appointments!”
Satoru rolled his eyes, waving you off, “Sure, yeah, whatever you say!”
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You now stood in front of Suguru’s apartment, cursing the day you’d decided to befriend the white-haired menace that was your friend.
You considered going back, but the door opened before you had the chance to say a single word, revealing a very disheveled Suguru. Your mouth fell open in surprise, eyes briefly meeting Suguru’s dark orbs before he redirected them towards his friend, who was already whining, making comments about him being some kind of sorcerer, because how could he possibly have known they’d be here?
“You stomp like crazy, man. I’d have to be deaf not to know.” He grumbled. Satoru stuck his tongue out at him, showing no signs of remorse, and Suguru flipped him off.
“Hey, manners! I brought a guest!” He exclaimed, his arms still around your shoulders as he squeezed you against him to make your presence known. 
Suguru immediately redirected his attention toward you, his scowl transforming into a small knowing smile.
“I can see that.” His eyes lingered on you, before he redirected his attention to Satoru, “And to what do I owe the honor?”
His friend groaned in annoyance, “Quit the formalities and just let us in!” He said, immediately pushing Suguru aside to barge into his flat. “Don’t you know letting guests wait outside is rude?”
“You’re not a guest. Who called you in, already?”
“You did! Shoko told me you also wanted me to bring you stuff. And because I’m such an amazing friend, I’m here! There,” Satoru tossed him the folders he’d brought from work, Suguru catching them effortlessly.
He sighed, figuring out the issue. “I specifically asked Shoko to do it because I knew for a fact you were gonna come here and give me a headache.”
The white-haired man lifted his hands in surrender, “Promise I’ll be on my best behavior!” Before disappearing into his friend’s house.
You silently cursed at your friend for leaving you there alone with his best friend, especially so when you turned your head towards him only to find him already eyeing you up with a slightly amused smirk, enjoying your slight – and very noticeable – discomfort.
“You wanna come in?” He asked as he made space for you. You nodded and stepped into the apartment, brushing against Suguru who still lingered in the doorway.
You observed his place, eyes going over his wooden furniture, and found yourself pleasantly surprised by the warmth it seemed to exude. It was certainly very different from the modern and somewhat cold feel of Satoru’s apartment, which you’d visited several times before.
“You like it?”
“I do, it’s very…warm. And personal.”
He laughed deeply, “I do spend most of my time here, and Satoru’s there very often. It had to be.”
You hummed, smiling at him in understanding.
“So what made you skip work today, boss?” You lift a brow with a teasing smile, finally asking the million-dollar question.
“Ah, please don’t remind me. I keep thinking about the things I’m gonna have to take care of when I get back.” He sighed. “But I’ve been feeling sick since last night, figured I’d stay home like a recluse instead of contaminating you all.”
“Well, until you two showed up.”
“Hey! I had to, Satoru practically dragged me here!” You exclaimed, and he snorted at your apparent distress, not thinking for a second that you’d just lied to his face. Satoru had asked you once, and you’d said yes. He didn’t even have to convince you. 
“I know how he can be, I’m not blaming you!” He chuckled fondly, envisioning perfectly how Satoru must have dragged you here against your will like he’d always done with him.
“But just so you know,” He continued, “you don’t have to go all this way for me because I’m your boss, hm? They’re gonna think I’m taking advantage of you outside your hours.” He teased with a grin, and you had to advert your eyes from the blinding sight that he was.
“It’s not like that, really. You’re a friend of Satoru’s, so you’re not just my boss.” You said without thinking, and Suguru hummed in approval. “Besides, I figured you’d need some help with stuff. And I’m not sure Satoru’s the one for the task. Where the hell did he go?” 
“Help?” He cocked his head, as he thought about it, ignoring your question. He knew where his best friend was, either sleeping or rummaging through his games and making a mess in his bedroom, as usual. It must have looked innocent to some, but the dark-haired man knew his friend had been up to something, for the past few days. And he had to find out what it was.
“Well, now that you’re asking, I was just about to start on dinner before you two barged in. Care to help out?”
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow across Suguru’s cozy kitchen, you found yourself standing beside him, listening to his voice as he gave you advice on how he liked to prep his ingredients. 
“So, what’s on the menu tonight, Chef?” You joked, trying to break the tension that seemed to hang in the air. You two weren’t used to be alone without Satoru as an intermediary, and it couldn’t be more obvious.
Suguru cleared his throat, his voice deeper than usual, slightly hoarse from the sickness. “Hm, was thinking of making my famous stir-fry,” he replied, “can you gather the ingredients?”
“Yes, Chef!” You grinned, and he chuckled at your enthusiasm. He leaned against the counter, a soft smile on his lips as he watched you bustling about, gathering all the utensils you’d need to make dinner. You quickly turned to ask him where he kept the rice, and caught him following your every move, his eyes half-lidded. You heart skipped a beat, and you immediately turned back around, forgetting what you were about to ask him.
He was sick. You had to get it back together.
Shaking your head, you opened the cupboard to grab the salt, but sighed when your eyes found it, perched on the cabinet’s top shelf. You tiptoed, convinced you could retrieve it on your own, but the cabinet was strangely positioned in a rather elevated spot.
“Here.” Suguru’s sweet and deep voice suddenly reached your ears, his warm breath tickling the back of your neck. You could feel his solid body against yours as he stretched to grab what you’d been trying to, and you swore you could feel his abs pressing against your back even through his loose-fitting shirt. His fingers brushed against yours as he took hold of the item.
As soon as he put it down on the counter, you smoothly pushed him away and put distance between the two of you, accusatively pointing at the cupboard.
“What the hell is it so high for anyway? Do you live with giants?” 
He laughed, “Well, in a way. Me and Satoru could be considered giants.”
“Right.” You shook your head, pushing yourself to get back to the task at hand to avoid thinking about what had just happened. Your hands began chopping the vegetables, the rhythmic sound of the knife against the cutting board filling the room. 
The scent of garlic and ginger filled the kitchen, and you smiled as you inhaled the pleasant scent. You couldn’t help but sneak a glance at Suguru, and you wish you hadn’t. He seemed lost in thought, his dark hair was slightly tousled, and his cheeks were slightly flushed, a combination of his illness and the warmth of the kitchen. 
The man sighed as his hair got in the way yet again. He hadn’t found the time to trim it recently, and it had gotten quite long.
He paused for a moment, rinsing his hands before his fingers deftly started to gather his long dark hair. With a practiced grace that was so common with him, he pulled his hair back, securing it in a loose and messy ponytail. He sighed in annoyance as some strands were too short to be kept in place, blowing air to get them out of his eyes. His eyes found yours as he seemed to notice your sudden silence, strands of silky hair framing his face, accentuating the sharp angles of his jaw and elegant curve of his neck.
He gave you a shy smile, surprised you’d caught him in what had strangely felt like such an intimate moment to witness, and averted his eyes to the rice that’d been fizzling in the frying pan. After hard work came comfort, and you both sat down to savor the delicious meal you’d prepared – well, Suguru had done most of it, you’d mainly chopped the vegetables and fetched the ingredients, really –.
Suguru watched you intently as he waited for you to taste his famous dish. His eyes crinkled in amusement and he couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh as you let out an involuntary moan of pleasure at the taste.
“This is fucking incredible, Suguru!” You managed to say between bites, cheeks full, “I can’t believe how good this tastes! Why the hell didn’t I know how good of a cook you were?” You exclaimed.
His lips curled into a proud smile at your praise, “Glad you like it. I wasn’t always that good, you know? I used to burn pasta.”
“Pasta?” You deadpaned, eyes wide. “How come you’re so good, then?”
He grinned, “Had to fend for myself since I was very young. Practice makes perfect, right?”
Oh. Your heart ached as you considered the implications of his words. At the end of the day, you didn’t know that much about him, and the fact he might have had a difficult childhood would have never crossed your mind if he hadn’t made allusions to it. You nodded, not really knowing what to respond, but not really keen on delving deeper into the issue.
You weren’t close, there was no need for him to tell you about his past struggles when you were only sharing a meal.
You proceeded to talk about your respective days, you telling him about the peculiar clients that had come in today, and him intently listening to you for the most part. He’d also told you about the documents Satoru had brought him, which you’d been curious about, and happened to be sketches he’d started and wanted to touch up before tomorrow morning.
You smiled as you watched him talk, nodding slightly whenever he would speak about something that demanded an immediate reaction. You couldn't believe how comfortable you'd gotten with him. Sure, there were still moments where you felt embarrassed, after all, he was a new acquaintance you still hadn't gotten used to. However, he had this talent that was so unbelievably his, the skill to put anyone at ease with just a few words.
He might have looked intimidating to a lot of people, with his fully tattooed arms, many piercings and dark eyes, but this image of him completely crumbled the moment he opened his mouth. He was a smooth talker, luring people in and charming them effortlessly.
And you couldn’t deny it. The fact Suguru wasn’t only a skilled chef, but also a vision of breathtaking allure. And you wondered how someone like this could ever reciprocate the feelings you harbored deep inside.
After the meal, you moved to the living room, settling onto the sofa. The warmth from the kitchen and the contented feeling brought by the dinner you two had just had enveloped you as you continued your conversation. 
As he talked, you couldn’t help but notice a few strands of Suguru’s long hair escaping from his ponytail, falling gracefully across his forehead.
You spoke up, feeling brave, “You know,” he immediately gave you his undivided attention, and you felt slightly shy under his gaze, “If you’re finding your hair bothersome, I could help you with it. Maybe trim it a bit?”
“Oh.” He said, voice tinged with surprise at your question, and at the fact you’d noticed his annoyance. “You’d do that?” 
“Yeah, it’s no big deal.” You approached him on your knees so you could get a good look at him, skimming your fingers through the strands of dark hair framing his face, as you thought about how you could arrange it, “I’m used to your type of hair, shouldn’t be too difficult.”
The man cleared his throat, turning his head to the side to avoid your gaze, “Alright, well, I’ll consider it and let you know then. Thanks.”
You nodded, but then your brows furrowed and you bolted from your seat, “Be right back!”
He saw you leave for the bathroom, lips parted in confusion. When you reappeared with a wet towel and a sheepish smile, he couldn’t stop but let out a snort as he understood what you’d been up to.
“Hey, don’t laugh! I know I’m a guest but you’re still sick.” You rolled your eyes in feigned annoyance, but the amused smile on your lips was betraying you. “Your cheeks are so red, I can’t believe I just noticed.” Then, you proceeded to delicately cover his forehead with the cold towel, making sure you weren’t covering his eyes. You observed his features up close, and you noticed that he was struggling to stay awake, his long lashes fluttering with exhaustion.
 “You should lie down a bit.” 
Suguru was about to protest, but a yawn escaped him, resigning him to accept his fate and lie down for a while. “Just a minute, alright? Then I’ll walk you back home.” You nodded, knowing you had to go home very soon, the fact you'd stayed more than a few minutes at your boss's house already shocking to you.
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bonus –
Your eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, you were disoriented. The soft glow of the morning sun was beginning to filter through the curtains, but you weren’t on your bed. And as your senses slowly returned, you realized you were not alone.
Panic welled up inside of you as everything came rushing back to you when you took in the sight of Suguru sleeping beside you, his messy hair out of the ponytail he’d put them in a few hours ago, the string lost somewhere on the ground, while his limbs were sprawled out on the couch. His soft snore was making his chest rise and fall, his shirt rising up to his middle.
You didn’t have time for that. 
You bit your lip, searching for your phone in a hurry, making sure you weren’t making any noise in fear the man would somehow wake up, silently freaking out as the situation dawned on you. 
you where the fuck r u ???
satoru i’m home?? where r u
you .
satoru oh fuck DONT TELL ME oh my god
you  …
you why didnt you wake me up when you went home . wth satoru
satoru oh man that’s rich im telling shoko right now
you do it and i’ll kill you
satoru too late
satoru by the way i actually didn’t wake you up cuz sugu’s an insomniac never does whole nights so thx!<3
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AN : I SAID LET THEM COOKKKKK ok back to the topic. god. this was twice as long as the first piece of this series (and i actually kinda struggled with this one? i'll have you know i'm a master at writing angst but fluff isn't really my forte - if you can call this fluff). kinda sweet suguru here cuz he's sick and all (and i couldnt already rush things), but expect him back on his feet and SMUG as hell in the next pieces ;) sooo yeah, hope yall liked it! also, not proofread yet, i'll come around to fix mistakes but it's 1:40 am here and i have class tomorrow so goodnight
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gillthorpe · 1 year
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distracted, xavier thorpe
xavier thorpe x reader
summary: xavier couldn’t help but do what he wants to do
warnings: it’s literally just fluff, use of baby?
a/n: first fic, please be nice. Apologies for any grammer mistakes oops
You could feel his eyes on you every now and then, alternating between his homework that he held up with his hand and you who’s sitting across from him. You didn’t bother to look up, putting all your focus on the essay you had to write as homework.
The library was quiet, only the sound of you and Xavier’s pen scribbling on paper and the occasional sniffing. You and Xavier would always go to the library to finish up the homework you two have for the day. It was your routine even before you and him started dating.
Unfortunately, Xavier isn’t the most responsible student. He would often goof around, trying to distract you and would do anything but his homework.
Today was no different.
“And… done!” You sighed, dropping your pen onto the table and leaning back against the chair. You let your eyes relax for a moment before peeking to see Xavier still focused on his homework. “Are you almost done?”
He bit his bottom lip, ignoring your question, too wrapped up in his work to answer you.
“Maybe we can swap our essays and spot if there’s any mistakes?” You asked, pursing your lips as you wait for Xaviers response.
He hummed absentmindedly, his eyes never leaving his notebook. You smiled, admiring your boyfriends pretty features when he concentrates. You were proud to see that he was actually putting in effort on his work.
Xavier finally stopped writing, placing his pencil down and picking up his notebook and admired it before giving himself a content nod.
You bounce eagerly, “Can I read yours?”
His eyes finally met yours, a hint of mischievousness behind those eyes. He smirked, clearing his throat as he sat up straight and swapped notebooks with you.
You were practically gleaming with excitement, excited to read his essay and actually feel like you have a real study partner to learn and point out mistakes with.
Until your eyes landed on his notebook.
Your smile has never dropped so fast. Your shoulders dropping, and you couldn’t contain the gasp that left your mouth.
A snicker came from the man you were about to murder.
“Xavier Thorpe I swear to fucking god—“
“—I love you, baby please—“
“—All this time I thought you were writing the essay—“
“—You’re so pretty I couldn’t help it—“
“—And you were drawing instead?!”
You stared at him incredulously, your nose flaring at him due to how pissed off you were. He was enjoying this, his cocky smile still plastered on his face as he laughed at your reaction.
“I’m sorry, baby. In my defence, I did try to write the essay. I just got distracted…” Xavier said, his hands holding yours as his thumbs rubbed your hands softly.
You blinked at him, sighing as you look down at his notebook to see at the top right hand corner he did wrote a few words before giving up.
“As much as I want to scream at you right now, this drawing is beautiful,” you sighed with a small smile, studying his artwork.
It was a drawing of you reading your textbook, you nose scrunched and your hair a mess. He managed to enhance your best features, capturing every little detail about you. He was truly talented.
“Thank you. Please don’t be mad, i’ll start on the essay right now,” he said softly, ensuring you aren’t upset with him.
You playfully rolled your eyes at him, sighing loudly. “You better do it or no cuddles for you tonight.”
You ignored his protests as you get up from your seat to find a book to keep you company. Safe to say Xavier was diligently doing his work with a determined face, and within thirty minutes he was done and started begging you for a hug and a kiss.
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giorno-plays-piano · 3 months
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Binary Star
Part II
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Pairing: academic rival!Satoru Gojo x reader
Warnings: yandere, obsession, power play, hurt/comfort, no curse au, this series will get darker as the story progresses.
Words: 1.2k
Summary: It has to pay off, he thinks as he waits for the headmaster to finally announce the valedictorian, knowing she is there too, shifting from one foot to the other impatiently. What face is she going to make when his name will be called? Is she going to cry? To yell at him and publicly demand a re-evaluation? Or will she, perhaps, finally admit he’s done a fantastic job and won fair and square?
Part I
P.S. Academic rival -> CEO!Gojo
_____________
When he spots her name in the stack of papers his HR left on her desk, Satoru gets a brain freeze for a second. Couldn't be the girl he had once studied together with, no. It's been what, more than ten years since he had last seen her? It must be some other woman wearing the same name.
But he can't just leave the paper be, immediately taking it in his hands while the manager makes a confused face: Satoru only looks at the candidates' profiles when they are aiming for the high management positions in his company, nothing less. This woman, however, applied for the middle-level position, only recently becoming a senior at her old job. Why is the CEO looking at her CV so intently?
All Gojo sees is the name of the school they both graduated what feels like a hundred years ago, and he knows it's her. It's the girl who was his one and only rival, someone he had finally considered his equal when they both were fighting for the position of a valedictorian. It's her. He can finally understand what has happened.
Not that he wasn't searching for answers right after graduation. Knowing Shoko sometimes hung out with her, he was showering the girl with questions until she groaned something about the family of his classmate moving and that it's likely he would never see her again. She didn't tell why. Said she had no idea.
It's true, Satoru sees now: his old rival did move god knows where, nearly half across the country to a place he didn't even know existed. Some tiny city, he thinks as he googles the college she attended only to realize that it is, in fact, a community college. Community college? For someone as talented as her? Was she out of her goddamn mind? Even if she, for some unfathomable reason, didn't want to go to Harvard like him, despite her scholarchip, she could have chosen any other decent place with her marks. How could she do this to herself?
He continues reading the resume, the memories of her annoyingly pretty face fresh in his mind as if it all happened just yesterday. Internships at some tiny companies, assistant positions, and other entry-level jobs she should have never taken in places he has never heard of either... Until she finally moved here about two years ago and started slowly climbing the career ladder. Unfortunately, her CV leaves Gojo with more questions than answers he expected.
"I want you to interview her," he finally says to his HR manager, who's been shifting in her seat impatiently ever since he had taken the printed papers from her desk. "And if she says yes, I want to know when she'll come."
He isn't sure why he's doing it. It's been far too long to be holding any grudges, and, honestly speaking, he isn't angry at his old school rival. Curious, perhaps? This must be it. He just wants a closure of sorts. He wants to know why she has abandoned everything she believed in, even if it's selfish of him to be prying into her past. Clearly, something had happened. Something horrible.
Did she get pregnant, maybe? Gave birth? Remembering her father, he wouldn't be surprised if it was the reason they had to move. And yet, she didn't seem the type to do something like that... Not when he had never seen her speaking to boys outside of school, and even then, she would only be talking to them about lessons and future college or university prospects.
He has to have some patience, Satoru thinks. Surely, she'll accept the interview and come in person.
And she does, walking in the building - Gojo watches her from above, peering down from his fancy cabinet with enormous windows - just two days later. She looks somewhat different - not that he didn’t expect her to change after all these years - but there's the same air about her, he can feel it in his bones. It makes him strangely nostalgic, and he starts to itch to go down and talk to her the second she waltzes into the office of his HR. He needs to know why she left. Her secrets are making him restless like a child.
He needs to see her face when she realizes he's both the owner and the CEO of the company she wants to work for.
After giving her about 10 minutes, Gojo runs down the building as if he's a boy chasing an ice cream truck. He needs to see her. The itch that has been dormant for almost ten years is almost unbearable now, and he has no time to waste before she disappears again from his life.
"Yuki, I have a question..." he starts as if he has no idea she's conducting an interview at this very moment, making a surprised face and almost shouting the name of the woman he once called his equal. "Woah, I can't believe it! Is it really you?!"
Satoru knows it's not right to be that happy about her baffled - if not fearful - expression, but he can't help himself. Here she is, the girl who could never shut up in class whenever a teacher asked them a question, sitting in the office he built with the money he earned, not borrowed from his father. He is where she has always wanted to be, Gojo is sure. Geto would probably smack him for being a smug bastard in front of a woman who surely has nothing against him, but Satoru feels ecstatic.
Until he sees she is not only scared: she is terrified. Why? Is it because her old rival ended up doing much better than her? She must be feeling upset and jealous, but she shouldn't be horrified. There's nothing to be scared of. Is she worried she won't get this job because she thinks Satoru is a manchild who can't forgive her for their silly school competition?
Or is she scared of him?
He doesn't like the thought.
"I'm so happy to see you!" He adds with a too-wide smile. "What are you doing here?"
It's concerning how she bites down on her lower lip, nearly ripping the thin skin covered in lipstick.
Thankfully, Yuki finally acknowledges his presence with an awkward smile, "Mr. Gojo, good morning. I apologize, but we are in the middle of a job interview. If it's alright with you, I'll come see you a little later."
The woman in front of him still doesn't utter a single word, and he feels like she'll escape him again if he lets her. With a dramatic sigh and a smile so wide it's a wonder how his face hasn't cracked yet, he announces to her, "Oh dear, I'm so sorry for interrupting! But you'll wait for me after your interview, alright? We can go grab a coffee together! It's not like it's against our company policy, right, Yuki?"
If eyes could kill, he would definitely be dead by now because his HR is ready to stab him with a fork she once stole from a cafeteria and is now keeping in one of her drawers. Satoru isn't that suicidal yet, so he quietly leaves her office before his old rival can utter a single word.
Now, this is about to get interesting.
_________
Tags: @minshookie29 @mononlogue @whore-for-hawks @theoriginaluzisimp @khatte @brooke-gvf @nimuelis
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chrollohearttags · 6 months
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LICK BACK
it didn’t take long before the rumor mill began to hit the last place anyone wanted it to. Chatter and discourse circulated among everyone over at AMG. From staff and crew to the top level..concerned about what it meant, not only for the PR manager and her clientele but the company as a whole. Honestly, it all seemed more like some sick, deluded fever dream. There was no way that a photo from years ago, taken completely out of context and held zero weight was creating all of these problems! Although they were both young and there were a lot of drugs and alcohol involved the night that said picture was snapped, they both were adamant in the fact that nothing came of it. There was no way in hell that she’d even entertain the idea of sleeping with EJ. The thought alone made her skin crawl. She didn’t see it for him then and damn sure didn’t now. And vice versa. And even on the off chance there was some forgotten one night stand…what did it matter now anyways?! They had obviously both moved on and there were zero romantic, sexual or otherwise feelings there. Whoever decided to dredge these up from the archives was either bored, miserable or mad as hell over something. Could’ve been a mix of the three..who knows. But what was certain, was that this had to be fixed and quickly..before everything fell apart!
pacing the floor of her high rise condo, purchased for work years ago, the talent scout nursed her glass of wine as she trembled. Fear and anxiety had taken over her entire body…her eyes bloodshot from crying for hours on end. Her heart felt as if it were going to explode from her chest..it was all too much to bear.
“So what are you going to do? Everyone seems to believe that something happened. Even if it was years ago, it’s going to be hard to convince the world that there’s nothing going on.”
“I’m sorry, Aunt Vivi but I’m not worried about convincing the world of anything. They’ll talk and believe what they want regardless. I’m only concerned with what my husband and (y/n) thinks. They’re the victims in all of this…they don’t deserve to have to deal with it.” But alas, she was wrong. Although that was her main priority, she failed to take into consideration how the rest of her clientele must’ve been feeling. She was the public relations manager..the quintessential fixer who made problems go away…if she was knee deep in her own scandal, how the hell could they trust her to get rid of theirs? It was a nightmare!
finally feeling as if the unbearable weight had caught up to her, Mikasa plopped down on a nearby couch, where her aunt and creative director Vivian Ackerman was seated. The older woman would cradle her niece’s head onto her chest akin to the way she had when she was younger. In truth, she was the only adult in her life who had actually taken the time to see her as a child in her adolescence rather than some machine; the ideal artist who moved on everyone else’s time but with her, she could be herself. And right now, the thing she needed most was a shoulder to cry on. To let her frustrations out.
“He left for his tour last night..didn’t even say goodbye. Once social media started talking, he went to a hotel and didn’t say a word. But the look on his face? I'd never seen him in pain like that. When I called him..he didn’t even answer. But then I found his ring on the nightstand. That and the necklace I gave him when he first started playing in my band. He never took that stupid thing off for anything….I guess it’s really over, huh? I screwed up..”
she could feel herself slipping further into despair. The thought of losing the one man who’d always given her the world. The man she joked, laughed and had more fun with than anyone. Who saw her flaws as perfections, accepted her in any way. The love of her life, Jean was gone and now her sweet (y/n) was pissed too. She had blocked her everywhere and was refusing to answer her or Eren’s calls. He told her that (y/n) had someone send for the rest of her belongings and that she wouldn’t be coming back. And EJ was in worse shape than she was. Not even bothering to get out of bed. How could they possibly convince you or anyone else that this was all a huge misunderstanding. But what shocked them both was that there was a single post uploaded to her Instagram page with her on a private jet. Tan leather seats surrounding her along with some roses. She sat posed as if she were straddling someone’s lap and her bare back was facing the camera with her face out of the frame. And coiled around her? Were tattooed arms with some rather familiar looking ink. The caption simply read “having my way.” Comments were shut off for the post so no one could have a field day underneath but trust, the alarm bells were going off something crazy. But one thing was for certain…when it was all said and done, those two would be the ones left crying!
“You think that was a little too much?”
“For what they did? Please..they’re lucky their asses aren’t dead right now. I’d say they got off easy.”
because right now..you were on a flight, headed to Europe. Lying in bed, draped in sheets as they caressed your naked body. But the linen wasn’t the only thing touching you. Right now, those very same arms and hands from the photo were rubbing and caressing your body. Only after using them to bounce you up and down on him. Some might say it was one hell of an overreaction to something that couldn’t be confirmed but fuck it, it shouldn’t have gotten this far. And as for who was helping you exact this little cruel act of revenge?
“Besides…I think this is much better. They can sit and think about that shit while we have some fun. Not like it’s the first time. What do you think?”
“I think you’re right..”
that too would remain a mystery!
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violette-hue · 1 year
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Summary: You get stuck in an elevator with the person you possibly hate the most. . . Ushijima Wakatoshi.
Trigger Warning: unprotected sex, trapped in an elevator, language (?), arrogance, smut without a plot, not proof read, **aged up character(s)**
Word Count: 1.7k
A/N: Found this bad boy from my old blog in my google drives. I hope you guys enjoy the bread *muah*
**minors. and ageless blogs do not interact**
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Things literally could not have ended up worse. There you were, trapped in an elevator with the ultimate douche bag: Ushijima Wakatoshi. Why the hell did he have to be so blunt all the time? Or so cocky? Has this man never heard of being humble? 
You crossed your arms over your chest, leaning against the elevator wall far from said douche bag. You huffed in annoyance for the uptenth time, earning another pointed glare from Ushijima. 
“Huffing won’t make the elevator work, Y/N,” he stated matter of factly. 
You rolled your eyes. “It seems it won’t make you disappear either,” you retorted, a bit of bite to your tone. 
Ushijima stared down at you and you couldn’t quite pinpoint the look he was giving you. It seemed to be a mixture of annoyance and something else..? His features were hard, but his eyes were soft.
You tore your eyes away from him, not wanting to see him look down at you for god knows how long you’d be in this elevator. You pulled out your phone for some company, only to find zero bars. Great, just what you needed. Tense silence with a man you hated. 
You huffed again. How the hell had you gotten into this situation? Oh. That’s right. The both of you were on your way to a dinner party with the team. You weren’t the manager or anything, but you helped out a lot since your uncle was the coach. 
When you arrived in the parking garage, you opted to take the elevator up since you weren’t too keen on walking up stairs in heels. That’s when Ushijima showed up. He passed the elevator and had done a double take. You could tell he was debating on whether or not he should join you, and, before the doors could close, he stepped inside. 
You mentally cursed yourself for not pressing the closed door button as you adjusted your champagne slip dress. True, it was only a dinner, but your uncle had chosen one of the fanciest restaurants in town and the occasion was black tie. You assumed there would be some sort of after party once the dinner was over. 
You stole a glance at Ushijima, looking him up and down. You’d be lying if you said he didn’t look good in that suit. He looked very good. Instead of wearing a basic white button down with his suit, he wore a black turtleneck. You subconsciously bit your lip as your eyes trailed over his toned arms that were very noticeable in his dressing. Your eyes trailed up and met his gaze and you quickly looked away, red dusting your cheeks. You saw him smirk from your peripherals and you scowled. Of course he would be a douche about catching you checking him out. 
“Do I make you uncomfortable?” he asked after a moment of silence. 
“Yes,” you answered, not daring to look towards him. 
You heard him grunt and shuffle. “Why?” he questioned. You heard him step towards you and you tensed up. 
“You’re a douche bag. You only care about yourself and you think you’re so much better than others,” you answered. The more you spoke, the more angry you became. “You’re so cocky and rude and...and arrogant! And for what? You’d be a lot more attractive if you just were a bit more humble!” Your breathing was ragged, your chest heaving. You were fully looking at him now, your eyes boring into his olive orbs. 
You searched his face for any sort of emotion. He was frowning and his eyes were no longer soft. Instead, they were dark and roamed down your body. 
“Is that what you truly think of me?” he asked, the question coming out low and soft. 
“Yes,” you breathed, sticking out your chin. 
He shook his head. “I don't mean to be so arrogant. I know my talent and my worth, much like you, Y/N…” he trailed off. “Please forgive me if I’ve made myself unbearable.” 
You only just realized the lack of space between the two of you. Your chest was brushing against his with every breath you took and your faces were mere inches away from each other. You looked down to his lips, your mouth salivating at the thought of kissing him and having your way with him in this elevator. You snapped back to reality, shocked at your lewd thoughts. 
You pushed him away, growling softly. “Oh shut up! Don’t try and be nice now—god what the fuck is your problem?! You—you’re so—URGH!” 
You crossed your arms over your chest and shoved yourself in the corner of the elevator, breathing heavily. You were so worked up and you had no idea why. Why was he getting you so angry so easily? You dared take another glance at him and instantly regretted it. You were met with another smirk, this time wider. 
“I’m what?” Ushijima asked, stepping closer to you. 
You shook your head, a lump forming in your throat. You didn’t trust yourself to speak, least you say something you’d regret. You instinctively backed further into the corner, looking anywhere but him. You could feel him looming over you--his eyes boring down into you. You shifted your stance, feeling suddenly small and heated. Why...why were you so heated? 
“I’m. What?” he repeated, smirking a bit. He stepped even closer to you, tracing your jaw with a finger and tipping your chin up to look at him. “Look at me,” he ordered. 
Your eyes flicked up to him, his words making your core throb. You cursed yourself for deciding not to wear underwear, feeling your wetness drip down your thigh. You examined his features, your eyes tracing over his eyes, then his lips. You wanted to kiss him so bad...to feel his warmth on you and his cock in you. Subconsciously, you puffed your chest out to show off your cleavage. You noticed his eyes trail down to your chest, then trail back up, stopping at your lips. 
“Truly, you’re such an infuriating woman,” he admitted, cupping the back of your neck and placing his lips on yours before you could respond. 
You stood there, shocked, but quickly kissed him back. His hands trailed down to your waist, pulling your hips flush against his. You let out a small gasp as you felt his hardness against you, the movement of your lips allowing Ushijima to slip in his tongue. He pulled you closer, his large hands settling on your ass, the fabric of your dress barely guarding you from his warmth. Ushijima squeezed your ass, pulling you even closer. 
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful…” Ushijima murmured against your lips. 
Your eyes flickered up to his, your hands trailing down his chest and to his belt. He watched you fumble with the buckle and helped you pull his trousers down. His bulge seemed bigger now that he was only covered with his boxer briefs. You stroked his length through his boxers and palmed him, eliciting a soft groan from Ushijima. God, you really didn’t want to get dirty in an elevator, but at this point, your cunt was practically begging for it. 
Ushijima grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand away from his crotch and swiftly picking you up. He gripped your thighs and pinned you up against the elevator wall, his lips attaching to your neck. He sucked on the sensitive spot on your neck, earning a small moan from you. The position you were in caused your dress to hike up your thighs, your pretty pussy on display for Ushijima. He trailed his fingers down over your folds. 
“You’re so wet already,” he mumbled, pecking your lips. “All this for my cock?”
You huffed, your chest puffing out again. “Well what if it was?” you asked, pursing your lips. 
Ushijima let out a deep chuckle, pushing past your folds and softly circling over your clit. Your hips bucked up and you moaned, throwing your head back. His lips attached to your neck once more, adding a bit more pressure to your clit. 
“U-Ushijima, please…” you whined, rolling your hips up. “The elevators can be fixed at any--HAH!” You were interrupted by a loud moan as Ushijima eased his cock inside you. 
Ushijima was a tall man, his features larger than most, but you hadn’t expected his cock to be this big. As he pushed himself deeper inside you, you felt every inch of his cock stretch you out. You gripped his biceps, your nails digging into the fabric of his white pressed shirt. He thrust into you, picking up a hard pace. With each thrust, he buried himself deeper inside you until your clit met his pelvis each time. He was pounding into you, the lewd noises of your sopping cunt and his balls slapping against each other filling the room. 
Your puffy walls clenched around him as your orgasm built in your abdomen. If Ushijima kept up this pace, you’d surely come undone soon. He adjusted his stance, snapping his hips into you at a different angle and hitting your g-spot. You screamed out his name, nails raking down his arms. 
“F-Fuck, I’m close,” Ushijima breathed against your neck, thrusting into you harder. 
You bit his shoulder, a scream coming out of your lips as your walls fluttered around his cock. You desperately tried to hold on a bit longer, but the pressure in your abdomen was too much, causing you to squirt on his cock. Ushijima thrust a few more times, cuming inside you. He stilled his hips as he painted your walls white and breathed heavily. 
You tilt your head back against the cold metal wall, your legs trembling and your breathing labored. “Fuck,” you let out, chuckling. “The minute you pull out and set me on this floor, your cum is gonna drip down my leg…”
Ushijima let out a chuckle and pulled out. “I have a handkerchief in my pocket,” he said, adjusting his trousers and buckling his belt once more. 
You shifted, feeling his cum start to travel down your thigh and grabbed his handkerchief. You quickly cleaned yourself up and jolted as the elevator began to move once more. You looked at Ushijima, smiling as you watched him fix his tie. 
Maybe you didn’t hate him as much as you thought. 
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secretsecretbunny · 2 months
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idk if you do drabble requests but I love your writing so much! you really have a way with words so i was wondering if maybe you'd do a drabble about new!idol fem reader (can be solo or group w/e) who really looks up to and admires BTS and they meet her before watching her perform for the first time? also maybe there's some flirting? (idc which members I'm ot7) just one of my lil day dreams I wanna get out there 🥺 anyway! keep writing, you're genuinely really good 🫶🏻
I do now!! This sounded too cute to pass up 💕
Title: "Run."
Genre: drabble, one-shot, casual??? fluff??? idk how to describe this one lmao. I hope you enjoy!
Notes: y/s/n = "your stage name". Things that are underlined are links to the outfits described.
Your nerves had you literally shaking with anticipation as you waited behind the scenes of the show. So many incredible talents were performing today and here you were, an unknown newbie who was about to take the stage in front of a live audience. Why did they even want you to debut at this big of an event in the first place? Your manager reassured you it was because they believed in your talent and knew that taking a chance on you and letting your first performance be somewhere as prestigious as this would draw in fans, who would appreciate the unique sound you bring to the table. In particular, if the responses of other idols who are more famous and well-known were captured on camera and shared with their fanbase through broadcasts or similar media channels.
The way they styled you had you feeling nervous as well, with a form-fitting pink mini skirt that hugged your curves and a white button up top that was tucked in with a black and pink tie, adding a touch of elegance to your look. The cropped black blazer and black gogo boots with heels made you feel like you were going to fall at any moment, but the white leather garter with a chain on one of your thighs added a bold touch to your outfit. You felt a little exposed but you took a moment to be silently appreciative of the safety shorts you wore beneath your skirt.
You had always dreamed of being part of a group, working together towards a common goal. That's why you were initially brought on as a trainee for the company in the first place. However, after careful consideration and evaluation of your skills and strengths, it was ultimately decided that your talents would be best utilized flying solo. But you deeply wished you had people to lean on, members who could offer support and distract from your potential mistakes. You tugged at your skirt awkwardly as you stood around waiting for your time to perform. You still had nearly 30 minutes but you were too nervous to sit, instead you opted for watching the screen positioned on the wall, showing the current performers on stage.
You smiled at the screen at the talent being shown. BTS. You had a deep admiration for the group and enjoyed watching them perform their song DNA. The members exuded confidence and comfort on stage, making it seem like they never worried about mistakes at this point in their career. You watched as they moved fluidly across the stage, perfectly in sync with one another. 
A close up of Jimin had you grinning like an idiot. God he was pretty. Fuck, they all were. Hoseok with his vibrant smile, Namjoon with his unique features and buff build, Yoongi and his piercing eyes, Taehyung sporting the flirtiest looks you had ever seen, Jungkook somehow looking both innocent and dangerously delicious, and Jin with his world wide handsome face. And even more than their looks, they were so incredibly talented and hardworking.
You had heard the detailed story of how they rose to the top, overcoming numerous challenges and obstacles along the way. Their journey was filled with both good and bad experiences, but through it all, they showed great dedication and strength. And here you were, you hadn't even had your first performance yet and you had been ready to give up multiple times just during your 4 years of being a trainee. Working for the same label as the musicians who inspired you to pursue music in the first place left you feeling both grateful and slightly out of place, as if you hadn't earned your spot there yet.
You completely dismissed those thoughts and made your way towards the snack and beverage area, specifically designated for idols and staff members. You were in dire need of water and something sweet to give you an energy boost. As the boys finished their performance, the booming cheers from the crowd echoed through the air. You froze in surprise when you heard the seven of them laughing and panting out of breath as they entered the same room you were in. You attempted to seem nonchalant as they eagerly grabbed water bottles and snacks for themselves, while you discreetly tucked your hair behind your ear and reached for a water bottle too, all the while listening intently as Jungkook and Hoseok laughed uncontrollably about some unknown joke or incident.
In their fit of laughter Jungkook backed up into you, making you stumble back a bit. He whipped around suddenly "shit, sorry!" he apologized with a small bow. "Kookie you've gotta be more careful!" came a voice from behind you. The voice placed a hand on your shoulder. "You okay?" As you turned your head, you caught sight of Jimin with a gentle smile on his face. You quickly nodded in response, your eyes wide, causing him to let out a soft chuckle. "Hey! We making new friends?" Came Hoseok's voice as he reached his hand out to you. "I'm Hoseok. Or Hobi, J-Hope, whatever's fine." he said. His signature smile was contagious, spreading warmth to the pit of your stomach as he spoke. You took his hand lightly, stifling a giggle. "I uh, I know who you are. I'm y/n. Or y/s/n. Whatever's fine." You mimicked with a warm smile. He laughed. "Nice to meet you, y/n!" His hand was warm, and making your head swim, prompting you to let go.
"Wait, y/s/n?" Yoongi asked, stepping into the conversation. "The new girl? You're debuting today, right?" As you glanced in his direction, your nervousness was evident in the rapid nodding of your head. "Mhmm! In uh.." you checked the time on your phone. "shit.. 15 minutes actually." You said, taking a shaky breath in. "Nervous?" came Taehyung's voice from behind Yoongi.
You were now the center of attention for the seven boys, who were anxiously anticipating your next words. "Incredibly so.." you replied, making them all smile at you. "Hey I'm sure you're going to do great!" Namjoon chimed in "yeah, you're going to sound amazing!" Said Jin. They all nodded as you laughed
"you guys have never even heard me sing, how would you know?" You asked with a playful lilt in your voice. "Well, you're beautiful, so I'm sure your voice matches." God. Jimin was just as flirty as people described him, with a playful smile and a wink that could light up the room. You rolled your eyes with a laugh. "Smooth, pretty boy." You chuckled out, making him smirk. Jungkook looked you up and down for a moment "Your outfit looks great, your stylists did an amazing job." You took a moment to examine your outfit, making sure every piece was in its place and smoothing out any wrinkles on your skirt.
"Thanks, I actually had to beg them to add black into the theme. They originally wanted me in all pink and white and that's just... really not my vibe." This had Hoseok raising a brow. "What's not your vibe? ...sweet and innocent?" He asked with a smirk and the tilt of his head.
For just an instant, your eyes flickered with something that looked almost like mischief before settling back into their usual serenity; however fleeting this transformation may have been, its impact left ripples. Luckily you were saved by staff running up to you. "Y/n you have 10 minutes! Please come get your hair and makeup touched up!" The girl sounded almost panicked. You gave her a sweet smile. "Be right there!" You said, putting your sweet and shy persona back on. "I should run. Thanks for the pep talk, boys!" you said with a small bow. "You got this!" Namjoon said as you turned to leave. Jin's voice stopped you "would it make you more or less nervous if we said we'll be watching?" You paused for a moment in thought. "Hmm, well, I think I'd be more motivated not to fall on my ass if I knew THE Bangtan was watching my every move." This made them smirk. "We'll have our eyes glued to you then." Hoseok said with a subtle wink, his voice low. "You better." You replied amorously as you walked away.
With you fully out of earshot now, the boys spoke. "she's cute as hell."  Jungkook said. "Hm, she acts cute, but I think she's a little darker than that." Hoseok laughed. "Her and Jimin have the same vibes" Taehyung said playfully. "Oh, so I'm cute AND sexy? Thanks Taetae." Jimin retorted playfully, making the man roll his eyes. "Alright guys keep it in your pants." Yoongi commented. "Right, let's just go watch her performance like we promised, yeah?" Namjoon stated as they headed towards the changing room to switch outfits before returning to the audience.
As you stepped onto the stage, your nerves seemed to vanish into thin air as you effortlessly slipped into your performance persona. The song you performed was sultry, sassy, and sensual. Your manager referred to it as 'the triple S.' You found that you fell into the role easier than you thought you would since you discovered that with how bright the stage's colorful lights were, you could barely even see the crowd, but you could feel their energy and passion.
As your performance was coming to a close, one of your backup dancers suddenly fell near your feet. Despite knowing you needed to continue with the choreography, it felt wrong to simply step around her and ignore her situation. So, you decided to help her up while still singing and dancing, offering a reassuring smile and squeezing her hand gently when she looked panicked. She quickly fell back into the routine and the rest of the performance went on without another issue. 
As soon as you left the stage, you were immediately ushered off to change into more appropriate clothing for sitting in the audience with the other idols who either weren't performing or had already finished their performances. A simple long black dress with two high slits on either side, though you still wore a leather garter with a chain, this time in black though. Your seat was just a row behind the bts boys, you gave a small bow and a smile as you passed them. Once you sat down, Hoseok, Jimin, and Jungkook all turned around to give you a thumbs up or small claps, telling you that you had done a good job. Despite your best efforts you couldn't fight the bright smile that took over your features.
No more than 2 hours later you were at the after party being reprimanded by your manager for stopping mid performance to help your backup dancer. "You know you're supposed to keep going in instances like that!" She barked out. "I technically did keep going! I wasn't just going to ignore her while she was struggling!" You spat back with an eye roll, arms crossed over your chest. She let out a deep sigh, her shoulders sagging in resignation.
However, before she could continue with whatever she was going to say, you abruptly turned and started walking away from her. Unfortunately for you though, your hasty retreat led you straight into the path of an oncoming person - or more specifically, their chest - resulting in a jarring impact that sent you stumbling backward several steps. "fuck! I mean, augh... sorry!" you bowed. "We're just always bumping into each other, huh? Now we're even." you looked up to see Jungkook with a couple of the boys not far behind. You let out a small laugh "I guess we are." as Hoseok walked up, he peeked around you for a moment, eyeing your manager as she huffed and stomped away.
"You get in trouble for something?" he asked. You nodded with another eye roll. "She's upset that I stopped to help my backup dancer when she fell." His eyebrows furrowed "she's mad at you for being a kind a decent human being?" You smiled "that's one way to put it I suppose." you replied. Jimin, hearing the conversation being had, pouted "I thought it made you look cool and likeable!" he said with a tilt of his head. You anxiously fiddled with your fingers, feeling a bit nervous. "Thanks guys, I appreciate it. I really hope it didn't ruin the performance." Hoseok shook his head. "Not at all! You were amazing up there!" Jungkook and Jimin nodded, agreeing. "Let me get you something to drink to get your mind off it, yeah?" He added. You smiled "sure, that'd be great."
As Jimin and Jungkook started mingling with the crowd, you and Hoseok headed towards the bar, located at the distant end of the room. The venue had arranged for an assortment of drinks to be served, and the bartender was busy filling orders.
He ordered you your drink of choice and something for himself as well. You two engaged in a casual conversation for nearly half an hour, exploring various topics and discovering shared interests such as music, movies, and hobbies. The ice in your second round of drinks had mostly melted, indicating they were nearing completion when he posed the question "you wanna get out of here?"
Halting your speech mid-sentence, you turned to face him with an inquiring gaze before your expression shifted into a sly grin that showed your true intentions. "Absolutely." You responded. He grinned widely as he grabbed your hand, his grip firm and confident, leading you towards the exit with purpose.
As you walked, he waved goodbye to his members, a gesture that seemed almost automatic. You spotted your manager heading towards you, her expression written in annoyance, causing your heart to race in anticipation. You gave Hoseok's hand a stern warning squeeze as your manager approached, making him raise an eyebrow at you in confusion. However, the mischievous grin spreading across your features told him everything he needed to know - you had no intention of being deterred by anyone.
"Run."
You said before pulling him into a dash towards the exit. You both burst into a fit of laughter as you rapidly made your way out of the building, the sound of your hurried footsteps on the hard floor growing fainter with each passing second until you were no longer in sight.
Tonight might be fun after all, you decided.
aaaa okay how was that? Thoughts? Critiques? Requests? Let me know what's up. Love you!! 🩷
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 1 year
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So, reader is a huge softy that has many talents in various carework, for bots and kids. They are hired as the new Daycare Assistant/Handler and/or jack-of-all-trades for the Pizzaplex and the first interaction they have with any of the bots is respectful and kind. Reader has no judgement on them for not being human and considers them just as much a person as anyone else.
This includes every Staff bot they meet. They call them by their serial code (Hey there, M-1056!) or a nickname if they know them well enough. They help any Staff bot they see when the bot can't do it by themselves, with prior consent ofc. Getting magnets unstuck to them, helping clean up with them, even helping Map-bot with handing out maps. So, when some parent that isn't listed on the pickup list starts yelling at the reader and getting aggressive towards the increasingly uncomfortable Reader, the Staff bots are...displeased. Their AI isn't as developed as the glamrocks or the daycare attendant, but that is their friend. Their honorary handler. So, imagine the shock when some of the staff bots did their best to push the aggressive parent back from Reader and get Reader to safety. Security flashlight beams into their eyes, mop tripping them over, the works. After everything, the Reader is just so happy because "I didn't expect to gain such good friends!"
You can add whatever other bots that react to it happening in front of them/told to them later, but I'd like Sun's and Moon's reaction if you could. Thank you.
It was late in the evening when the Attendant needed some extra help cleaning up Superstar Daycare. But lucky for him, you were working tonight and provided him with some STAFF bots to assist.
You didn’t exactly program them to do that, but rather asked them politely. Of course it was their duty as janitors, guards, and many other things, though you still treated them as if you would the Glamrocks or any other advanced animatronic.
Your respect towards robots goes beyond the superstars of the Plex--that especially included the STAFF bots.
Because of this, you became the sort of “jack of all trades” handler. From helping a Glamrock get ready for a birthday party to assisting a Map Bot who’s passing out maps by elevator....you could do it all.
Sure, the STAFF bots didn’t have very eccentric personalities or voices, nor were they configured to have complex thoughts or emotional processes. But they all seemed to enjoy your presence--getting tasks done for you faster, saying “thank you” for helping them out of sticky situations, and more.
Some coworkers didn’t know why you cared so much about those “blank slate” bots, considering they replaced a majority of their friends and colleagues. Though nobody ever got on your case about it.
Even management noticed how you’ve kept them in tip-top shape, helping the company cut back on repair and/or replacement costs.
It turns out they needed you more than you needed them.
So you were quite content with your role.
In the daycare tonight, you had a few Mop Bots and a pair of Security Bots to sweep the place while you stayed at the security station, looking over the pickup list on the computer and finding only one child remained on it. She was with Sun, who would keep her entertained with a puppet show while waiting for her parent to arrive.
Soon enough, someone did and approached your desk. 
“Hi, I’m here to pick up my daughter.”
Looking up, you smiled at them. “Good evening. May I just have your name, please?”
They told you exactly that, but much to your confusion..the name they gave didn’t match what was on the list. You checked the date and sure enough, it was today’s, so you were looking at the correct one.
“Ah, unfortunately I have a completely different name listed here.” You told them, seeing their slight frown. 
“Really? I could’ve sworn I gave it to that stupid grinning robot...” Their eyes flickered to Sun. “Unless it glitched and changed it entirely.”
You noticed he was silent now, staring over at you both. While you didn’t take too kindly to this person calling him “stupid”, you stayed calm. “I can assure you that’s not possible. Our Daycare Attendant has the highest level of security and protects the data of all visitors-”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah I don’t need you to explain it to me. Can I just get my kid over there?” They huffed, suddenly having a thin amount of patience. “It’s a school night and I got here late, so I’m kinda in a rush.”
“Sure thing, could you just confirm her name for me?”
And they did just that, too, but you were still adamant about releasing them to this person. Glitches that completely changed somebody’s name in the daycare’s database simply didn’t happen. 
So you decided to ask them one more question to be sure. “And for safety reasons, may I also ask what school she goes to?”
They immediately looked at you with disgust, caught off-guard. “Why? Do you need to know every little thing about her? Does this place need her blood type, too?” They sneered.
“...no, but every parent is given a form to fill out, and they’re required to include their child’s school.” You pointed out. “I would assume you did that when you dropped her off today.” 
“.....ohh, uh..I-I’m actually just a family friend.” They abruptly changed their entire story, looking a little nervous as they did so. “Her parents asked me to pick her up so I didn’t sign any form.”
You just stared at them like they were the dumbest person on the planet. Did they seriously think you’ll believe that?
As uncomfortable as you were, you tried to stay calm. “I’m sorry but your name isn’t listed anywhere on the child’s emergency contact list, so I can’t release her to-”
“God what is this, Fort Knox?!!” They suddenly snapped. “I didn’t drive all the way to this shitty place just for you to hold her hostage!! Just call her goddamn parents and they’ll be able to tell you!”
You flinched slightly. Even Sun and a few STAFF bots began looking back your way, though you did your best to get this guest out of here asap. You’ve rarely dealt with irate parents, so your nerves were getting worked up. “Hey, there’s no need to use that language in the daycar-”
“Sorry. It’s just....look, I get it,” they huffed. “This company has a history of kidnappings and shit, but you’re making this more difficult than it needs to be.”
“..and it’s for that exact reason that I can’t let you leave with her. You telling me you’re her parent, and then a family friend is just a little suspicious. You can’t be both-”
“Jesus..am I gonna have to snatch her from that robot myself?! I see why they replaced you all with those stupid machines..they wouldn’t give me all this crap!”
At this point, your hands were growing shaky as you reached for the security button. This person was clearly attempting a kidnapping, only getting angry because they got caught in a lie.
Meanwhile, Sun was extremely concerned over the aggressive guest, especially since the little girl didn’t seem to know that person at all. At that point, he was ready to let Moon take over so he could deal with this “parent” himself.
Though before any of that could happen, he noticed all the STAFF bots in the play area suddenly cease their duties, making their way over to you.
Now that they were more in-tune with human emotions, they could sense your discomfort and the guest’s growing hostilities. And seeing you being harassed was..displeasing to witness.
You were their friend. Their handler. You treated them all with the utmost respect.
You didn’t deserve anything less than that.
So they came to the rescue, as a Security Bot tapped the guest on the shoulder and spoke in a rather annoyed monotone voice. “Hello, friend. Profanity and aggression towards staff are against our rules-”
“Don’t touch me you-!!”
But as the stranger turned around to scream at the bot next, they were met with a bright light shining directly in their eyes. They yelled in slight pain, going completely blind for a moment as they backed away from your desk.
Then a Mop Bot positioned themselves behind them and “accidentally” stuck out their broom too far, making them trip and fall onto the mat, sending some party canister crashing down.
“OW! Son of a--what’s wrong with your damn robots?!” They shouted in panic, getting up and rubbing their eyes right as two more Security Bots took them by the arms. “HEY! Let go!! This is j-just a misunderstanding, alright?! I-I didn’t mean to shout at your employee!”
They looked to you, hoping you could give them another chance. But you simply smiled and waved as they were forcefully escorted out of the daycare.
Only when the large doors slammed shut did you breathe a sigh of relief.
‘Thank god that’s over..’
“Are you alright, [y/n]?”
Looking to the Security Bot now standing by you, you smiled and nodded. You couldn’t believe they came to your defense so quickly--without even being ordered to. “I am now. Thank you, S-0032.”
“Head of security has been notified. This guest will be permanently banned. Effective immediately.”
“Amazing..I’ve never seen them be so..protective before.”
You saw Moon jump onto the desk, gazing down at you curiously. But his smile seemed a lot bigger now. “I got a mess to clean up..but I’ll let you slide. Just this once.” He wagged a finger at the bot, before leaping away to attend to other matters.
In the meantime, you just laughed, seeing a Mop Bot approach you as well.  “I didn’t expect to gain such good friends. That was a great one, M0-1056.”
“Always happy to help, [y/n].” They nodded respectfully.
Even though neither of them could smile, you had a feeling they would be if it were possible.
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